Dragon: Allie's War Book Nine (12 page)

I knew it was virtual, but to say it felt weird was putting it mildly.

“It’s a small part,” Feigran muttered, tilting his face so he was speaking directly to me, albeit in a low voice. “Very small. But it shines. It
shines…
he keeps it safe…keeps it hidden. He will not let it go. He will not. In through the out door…out through the in.”

I froze, staring at Feigran’s downturned head.

When he didn’t go on, I exhaled, clicking under my breath as I fought to untangle his words. So far on this thread I was mostly lost. However good I’d gotten in learning to decipher Feigran-speak, it always seemed to break down at the critical moment.

“In through the out door?” I said, my voice softer still. “Like with Revik?”

Feigran shook his head, clicking, but I honestly couldn’t tell if that was a no or not.

I pressed him again.

“Feigran…are you talking about Revik?”

“The Sword, yes. It is always about the Sword. And the Bridge.”

“What is? What is about us?” Hesitating at his blank look, I bit back my reaction as well as I could. “This seer. Does he have something to do with Revik, Feigran?”

“He is the anchor,” Feigran said. He looked up at me, still leaning his head against my chest as he enunciated carefully. “He keeps it
alive,
sister. It is most important to him…most important. He is the anchor…”

“What does he keep alive, Feigran?” I said, fighting for patience.

“The world.” Feigran looked up at me. “The
world,
sister Bridge. He is Dragon. He is life.”

I fought to make sense of that too, couldn’t.

So I tried a different tack.

“Is he in Beijing?” I said. “This ‘Dragon’…he’s in China?”

“No.” Feigran shook his head, his eyes distant once more. “No, no. He is under the rocks. Later, he will come for his brother…not before. After he is free.”

Once more, I could only stare at him.

I hoped like hell he’d elaborate. Preferably in English.

He didn’t.

“Feigran.” I bit back frustration. “What does any of that mean?”

But the seer only gave me one of those infuriatingly conspiratorial smiles. I was still looking at him when he raised a charcoal-smudged finger to his lips, still smiling up at me when he reached past the sight restraint collar and the tank and directly into my mind.

Shhhhhh…
he sent to me softly.

I have no memory of an image being sent, or any more subtle, more deeply packed thoughts, but somehow, I felt a second meaning communicated in Feigran’s light. There was a secret here, yes…but Feigran wasn’t warning me to keep it from just anyone.

He was specifically warning me to keep that secret from Revik.

Even as I thought it, Feigran smiled wider.

He looked almost comically relieved as he clasped my hand with his charcoal-coated fingers, leaning deeper into my chest. I knew I wasn’t really touching him, but it felt like I was. I even felt the warmth of his skin, the slight scratchiness of the layer of charcoal on his fingers, the softness of his hair and pajama top.

I barely noticed.

I thought about why Feigran might be warning me. I didn’t get the sense he feared for his own life. Nor did I get the sense he feared Revik particularly. But then, I rarely got the impression Feigran thought much about his own life at all.

It was a pretty big difference between him and Terian, actually. Terian had been equipped with an almost preternaturally fine-tuned survival instinct.

More and more, I suspected Feigran didn’t think in those terms at all.

I thought about what he’d said, that second, cryptic reference to the trigger in Revik’s light. I couldn’t help wondering if the “brother” Feigran mentioned was Revik, too.

Feigran could get very affectionate with Revik at times…unnervingly so.

He definitely saw me and Revik as family.

Regardless, I had no idea what this specific warning meant. I just knew that Feigran didn’t want to answer any of my questions about this Dragon where Revik might be listening. And wherever this Dragon was, it sounded like he was being held underground…and not in China. But maybe he
would
be in China.

I was about to release Feigran, to rise back to my feet…when the auburn-haired seer gripped my hand tighter.

Look for the book…
he whispered in my mind.

When his amber-colored eyes met mine, they looked almost clear. I could see a man behind them, an actual person. The difference shocked me more than his actual words.

I knew what book he meant, though.

There could only be one book…the same book that had been in the security deposit box along with the Displacement Lists. That book had disappeared right before the first big tsunami hit New York, right around the time Cass kidnapped me.

We’d assumed Shadow had it.

I’d asked Kali about the book too, but she hadn’t been able to tell me much. She admitted she’d put it there along with the data key holding the Displacement Lists, but she told me she’d only done it because her dreams told her she should.

Which yeah, not super helpful.

When I asked where she got the book in the first place, she said one of her agents found it in the mountain caves that Syrimne’s rebellion used during WWI.

Apparently, Kali got that from her dreams, too.

But the book. We’d never figured out anything in terms of the significance of that damned book. It had been full of symbols and writing no one could read, or even identify. According to Kali, no one in her group could identify them, either.

Looking at Feigran now, I decided to take the chance.

How?
I asked, barely thinking the words.
How do I look for it, Feigran? Who has it?

There was another lingering pause before he answered.

She knows,
he whispered, the words lingering as if floating on a faraway breeze.
The red-eyed one…the hunter. She knows…

I knew who he meant that time, too.

Even so, I wasn’t Feigran. I couldn’t reach my light past sight-restraint collars, or military grade constructs. I couldn’t reach past Barrier containment tank walls, either.

Hell, I couldn’t even hide most things from my own husband.

So I knew I’d be pressing my luck, if I tried to pursue this any further.

So, yeah…I didn’t ask.

Anyway, he’d given me a place to start.

5

KISS

Chandre stood on the high wall, looking southwest.

Clicking out briefly from her work in the Barrier, she grew conscious of the sunlight turning more orange, deepening and coloring the clouds.

It occurred to her that she hadn’t been monitoring the time very well. A few hours remained in the day, but not so many as she would have liked. She had intended to pull together her small squad for one more planning session that day.

The Sword wanted her to leave soon. Within the next few days.

Out of the city, north and west to Bangladesh, then into India. Then arranging for a boat or plane out of Mumbai or Kolkata and back to North America.

The thought of returning to that place, to what had been called the United States, made Chandre tired. The thought of leaving her people behind was not a welcome one, either…nor was the thought of once more being separated from the Bridge and Sword.

Because of that, the distraction with the Thais was perversely welcome.

So far up here, she’d been using her light skill more than her skill with conventional weaponry, mainly to help push back the horde aiming to overrun the newly-created opening in the wall. She wasn’t working it alone. Jorag had just come down here to assist in crowd control in person, while Deklan, Oli and Anale assisted remotely.

It should have been an easy task for just one seer.

But the raging mob had “help,” if one wanted to call it that, in the form of seers pushing the crowd to rush the wall from the other side, even if it risked their lives.

As a result, using the chaotically structured light of the mob itself only worked in short bursts. Chandre could feel at least six seers working the other side of that wall with the Mythers. They systematically unraveled any calm she, Jorag, Deklan, Oli and Anale managed to descend over the mass of desperate humans. Chandre herself would get a portion of the crowd to snap out of their frenzy only to have to return to that same section moments later as the Myther seers injected jolts of fear back into the group light.

A few dozen Thai soldiers stood just outside of the broken part of the wall, guarding the engineers as they struggled frantically to repair the hole and the corresponding semi-organic containment fields. They would get there eventually Chandre knew, but she wondered how many would die before that occurred.

She’d stopped flinching at the gunfire at least an hour ago.

The automatic gunfire continued, unabated, nearly steady in the background as she did her best to save lives in the only way she knew how. Most of the gunfire came from the Thai soldiers, who had little choice but to mow down the crowd every time it surged violently for the opening.

The people trying to get in weren’t only Thai, Chan noticed.

She saw humans and seers who appeared to be from other parts of Southeast Asia, as well as humans of European descent, some of African descent and a lot of East Indian and Chinese. Grimacing as she watched another line of running bodies ripped apart by automatic rifle fire, she focused back on her work in the Barrier…

Then jumped when someone laid a hand on her shoulder.

Chandre jerked and turned.

Her hand already gripped her sidearm.

The person standing there was probably the last Chandre would have expected.

“Esteemed Bridge.”

Chandre released her gun at once. She bowed, making the respectful sign for her intermediary with one hand as she lowered her head. As per custom, she straightened only after Allie herself made an impatient version of the counter-sign.

Raising her eyes, Chandre looked up and down the length of the upper wall only then.

She grew conscious that they felt alone.

The Barrier held no other seers nearby. Not on the wall at least, not unless they were heavily shielded. Jorag remained down below, near the physical wall breach so he could assist the engineers in addition to providing light coverage.

Chandre hoped the Sword had accompanied the Bridge out here and was simply occupied with the Thais and Jorag downstairs. The thought that the Bridge might have walked out here alone, where she might have been recognized and ID’d…

Still seeing no one and feeling no one with her light, Chandre swallowed, her nerves worsening. She grew conscious of the Bridge’s light focused on hers then, almost invasively. Meeting the steel behind Alyson’s gaze, Chandre decided it wouldn’t be a good time to question the Bridge’s judgment in coming out here unaccompanied.

“Is there something I can do for you, Esteemed Sister?” Chandre said, using the polite form of Prexci. “I was not aware you intended to witness this?”

Allie’s scrutiny sharpened.