Allie's War Episodes 1-4(128)

I stared at her, mouth open in disbelief.
Chandre called humans “worms” most of the time, when she wasn’t ordering them around like robots programmed to do her bidding. She gave me a cold look, motioning for me to follow her up the stairs. I bowed awkwardly to cousin James right before I did. The whole bowing thing was pretty weird to me still.
Once we’d climbed a few steps, Chandre spoke under her breath through gritted teeth.
“We are in a construct now. I would appreciate if you kept your thoughts civil.”
“Sure,” I said agreeably.
I felt her irritation through the construct and smiled.
At the top of the stairs stood an opening in the wall covered with a tapestry of yet another sprawling blue and gold sun, bisected by a white sword. Grasping one edge of the heavy cloth, Chandre slipped through the opening she created and vanished.
After a bare hesitation, I followed.
I straightened inside a low-ceilinged room covered in bamboo mats.
Open windows revealed a dramatic view of the Himalayas and a tree-filled valley housing the rest of Seertown, covered over in prayer flags like a roosting flock of brightly colored birds. Against the wall, a handful of collar-less seers wore Western clothes, talking silently amongst themselves and gesturing with their hands.
Closer to me and the door, another group of seers stood in a loose ring, wearing sand-colored robes. The man from the framed picture stood in the middle.#p#分页标题#e#
He turned as I dropped the tapestry behind me, staring at me. His eyes shone a piercing black, utterly still, yet carrying so much light I found it difficult to hold his gaze.
Without waiting, he crossed the ten or twelve feet to the door.
I took in his angular, unlined face, a little taken aback by his height. I didn’t move until he pulled me in his arms, lifting me off the floor. Squeezing me tightly and then letting go, he laughed aloud at my strangled sound, his teeth straight and white, dark eyes bright with tears as he drank in my face.
“You are here at last!” he said in perfect English, patting my shoulder in an awkward overflow of emotion. “I am very, very pleased! Very pleased!”
I could only nod, stunned by his tears.
“You are welcome here,” he said. “Most welcome!”
I felt my face warm, fumbled with something to say that wouldn’t be completely inappropriate...
And heard a derisive snort.
I turned my head towards the sound.
Amongst the seers wearing Western clothing and sitting by the wall, a male in a black T-shirt with shoulders like a gymnast watched me with Vash, his full mouth curled in an ironic frown. I felt his light on me and flinched. My cheeks flushed at what lived in that single, darting probe. Feeling my reaction, that same male gave me a sideways smile, glancing at the two seers sitting beside him, who stopped staring at me long enough to smile with him.
The first one’s light stayed by me though.
I felt him explore, felt a flicker of surprise from him at what he found, but couldn’t interpret its meaning. When I met his gaze the second time, his chocolate-brown eyes shifted away. He nodded to Chandre in passing as she sat among them, and the moment ended.
Glancing up at Vash, I saw a hint of a smile in his black eyes.
“You must be very tired,” he said kindly.
“You have no idea,” I said.



That night I curled up on a foam mattress on the floor.
A sheet lay over me, covered in sheep and cow skins, soft and warm and smelling comfortingly of animal. Through the wooden slats of the windows over where I lay, I could see mountains framed by moonlight and white clouds, stars just visible at the edges of the moon’s glow. Monkeys called to one another occasionally in the trees, screeched and scuffled over the roofs, their black paws scoring the bamboo.
Mostly, though, it was quiet.
Lying there in the dark, feeling crippled me, more than I’d had to contend with in what felt like months. Maybe being in the home of a bunch of monks, stationary at last––and sober for a change––I should have expected for things to come crashing down on me. Even so, I couldn’t help feeling like I’d been stripped naked with a paring knife and left to feel every breeze and drop of sweat over my open wounds.
The construct exuded a simple warmth that worsened the feeling. Even the Himalayas amplified it, until something inside me started to unclench, so quickly and effortlessly that I couldn’t pull back the threads.
By the time the monkeys’ footsteps receded, the middle of my chest throbbed as it had on those cold shores in Alaska.
I couldn’t breathe, but my mind remained dead silent.
The moon rose, and I was still awake, despite being exhausted. I lay there and watched as the valley filled with a soft, penetrating light.