Dragon: Allie's War Book Nine (92 page)

“We’re going to find him,” he said, his voice harder. “He’s going to be all right, Allie…I promise you. We’ll get there in time. We will.”

I nodded, but I still didn’t look at him.

As much as I knew Jem meant it, and as much as I loved him for saying it…I knew how meaningless that was, too.

“…did you hear me, brother?” the voice said, stronger that time.

Revik glanced over, frowning slightly when he realized he hadn’t.

Dust kicked up around him in some foreign place. Endless horizons. Jagged tires.

He didn’t know where he’d been.

The seer sitting next to him now was familiar to him, however. Very familiar. Unlike most of the others who passed by and at the edges of his light, Revik actually knew him.

Without having to think about it, that is.

“No, uncle,” he said politely. “I apologize.”

The seer waved a dismissive hand, his voice understanding. “It is quite all right, Nenzi,” he said. “I do need you to comment on this, however, so please pay attention…”

Revik nodded, arranging his seat as he leaned forward slightly.

It was morning again.

He had faint memories of the night before.

Of food. Of being in a soft, warm place.

Somehow, what he remembered best came later, though…after he was alone, drifting in the more chaotic tumble of dreams and light. Dreaming of dust, or turning tires, of guns. Of kisses and warm fingers. Of a land where there were no trees…no birds…

He could see men on horseback there…holding rifles.

Gunfire. There had been gunfire…

Now colorful kites twirled in the wind overhead through the open walls of the raised platform where they sat. He could hear birds in those trees, could smell someone cooking breakfast in a nearby room. Below them, Revik heard water falling over uneven rocks, the murmured laughter of voices in the garden. Voices that he knew to be human.

They were servants though, he thought.

Not dangerous.

Sighing in a purring, clicking kind of sound, the older seer gave him a level look. “Nenzi?”

Revik turned at once that time. “Yes, uncle. I am listening.”

Menlim nodded, the frown fading from his lips.

“Very good, brother,” he said, nodding again. “For this is important. Do you remember what I told you? When we spoke of your family the other day?”

Revik felt his mouth harden slightly as he thought.

He did not feel impatience from the other seer, perhaps because he knew he was trying to answer him. Even so, Revik felt some milder frustration with his own inability to find an answer that met the other’s requirements. He looked up after a beat more, to find the old seer staring at him, his light eyes holding an emotionless scrutiny.

Seeming to see that Revik had no answer for him, Menlim leaned back in his chair, which was also carved of wood and covered in elaborately embroidered cushions. He folded long white fingers over dark pants, studying Revik’s face.

“…About your new brother?” he prompted, softer. “The one I said might be coming here?”

Revik thought about that. He did remember.

He remembered that.

He felt for him, for the brother.

He remembered how colorful he was…how beautiful…

Darkness coalesced behind his eyes…

“No, Nenzi,” Menlim said, his voice gentle. “No…do not. Do not go to him now.”

Clicking out of the Barrier, Revik nodded, adjusting his weight on the wooden chair, feeling a mild discomfort without knowing why at first. The thought of that discomfort did not please him. It also made him faintly aware of what might have been a mild panic living somewhere in his chest. His mind found the reason for both things a few breaths later.

He had once more failed to assess the data correctly in order to conduct the right actions. He felt his discomfort with his inability to do so worsen.

“I apologize,” he said.

“There is no need,” Menlim assured him.

He studied Revik’s face for a few beats longer.

Then he sighed again, his light exuding peace.

“I do not wish to alarm you, brother,” he said next, his voice patient once more, measured. “But we may have to relocate you, my son…and soon.”

“Relocate me.”

“Yes, Nenzi.” Menlim made another of those softer, more nuanced clicking sounds, and Revik found himself following the resonance with his light, strangely fascinated. “…Yes. Your brother is very important to me, of course…as are you. However, he is somewhat unstable at the moment, and I must take steps to protect you from that. If necessary, from him…”

“Protect me.”

Revik
…
I
’
m here, baby. I
’
m here
…

“Yes," Menlim said, making an affirmative gesture with one hand. “We have been given intelligence that he might be here now. In Asia. And that he is looking for you, Nenzi. Until he is made well, I cannot risk that he might harm you, if only by accident…”

Revik thought about this. His puzzlement returned once he had. Looking down at the carved wooden armrests, he stroked them with his fingers as he answered.

“He is my brother, is he not?”

“Yes. He is your brother.”

Revik
…
baby
…
I love you
…

Revik winced, feeling that pain worsen.

He focused on the aged seer. Confused. Confused by his words.

“Then why would he harm me?” he said, meeting that pale gaze. “Why would my own brother harm me?”

Menlim clicked at him softly, his voice holding regret.

“He is not well, brother Nenzi,” he said then, his voice gentle. “Brother, I know this is difficult. But do you remember your sister? The one who betrayed you?”

Revik felt that distant pain in his chest worsen.

Revik
…
please
…
don
’
t listen to him
…

“Yes,” he said.

“Well, then you remember how dangerous she is,” Menlim said, his voice a touch harder.

Revik
…
I love you so much
…

“Yes,” Revik said. “I remember.”

“I am sorry to tell you this, but your brother has been in contact with her, Nenzi,” Menlim explained, his voice softer again, more careful. “He is not well from that contact,” he added. “We can help him…of course we can. And we will. But I cannot risk him harming you right now, while he is…confused.”

Revik nodded, feeling the confusion in his chest worsen.

“I understand,” he said.

“I knew you would,” Menlim said, clicking softly, affectionately now. “We had hoped to intercept him before he got so close. He is unpredictable in this state, and––”

“Where is she?” Revik said. Realizing he had spoken out of turn, he looked up, his eyes focusing on the angular face. “I apologize, uncle,” he said, his voice subdued. “But my sister? Is she with him now? Are they together?”

That more distant pain throbbed somewhere in his light as the question left his lips.

It hung there, detached. Looking for meaning.

She had…hurt him. He could not remember how.

The pain lingered. It coiled into and around him, like a living thing.

It reminded him…

But he could not remember what it reminded him of. Not precisely.

He was not sure he wished to know.

Menlim clicked regretfully, making a graceful gesture with one hand. Leaning forward, he laid the same hand on Revik’s arm, pulsing light into his skin. “I do not know that, Nenzi,” he said gently. “But do not concern yourself. We will rescue your brother from her. I promise you. We will not allow her to harm him again…”

Revik nodded.

Revik
…
gods, baby
…

Pain hit at him. Intense.

Not his.

He nodded again, looking up at the kites, watching them twirl slowly in a colder breeze.

But that pain in his chest didn't lessen.

He stared at the edges of blue sky, grown darker against shocking white clouds.

Revik
…
baby
…
I
’
ll meet you by the wall.

He sees an image there. In his mind.

An opening in the outer wall around the City. He sees it so clearly, there in his mind. A secret latch that lets one outside, a latch that only the guards know. It opens out. Outside the wall. It opens to more trees, a small park…he sees a horse there. A white horse.

The horse is beautiful.

Not now, baby
…
not now. Look at the other side. Your side of the wall
…

He does as the voice says.

He knows the place. He remembers those trees. The side he knows, the corner of garden inside the wall…it is where the roses are, when the season allows. He saw a squirrel there once. He has walked there before. Alone?

Yes…he had been alone.

Come to me
…
please. After dark. Don
’
t let them hear you, baby
…

So familiar.

So, so familiar.

The pain in his chest felt like fire then. Distant, but almost frightening in some way.

Distant though, so distant…

“Are you going somewhere, brother?”

Revik looked down.

He realized only then that he had regained his feet. He stood on that platform now, looking down on the aged seer in his throne-like chair.

He thought about the seer’s question, about the currents he could feel pulling and coaxing his light.

Baby
…
please. Please gods
…
come to me tonight
…
please
…

“I want to go for a walk,” he told the seer, feeling that pain in his chest worsen.

“Would you like company, brother?” Menlim asked gently.

Revik
…

“I want to be alone,” Revik said.

Taking a breath, he fought to think.

He did want to be alone. Why did he?

Normally it made no difference to him.

“I want to walk in the gardens,” he added. “There is a horse there…a white horse.”

He tried to think of more words. His mind went utterly blank.

He could not hear in that high place. He could only feel…something, like a light tugging around his throat and mouth and tongue. It made him want…something. That wanting slid through him, dissipated between his fingers like smoke on wind.

It left…something, though. Some wanting of light. Some wanting of beauty.

He remembered the birds.

They would be leaving here soon.