Allie's War Episodes 1-4(133)

I nodded. “Got it. So as Rooks, they’re über-strong. And if they leave—”
Vash laughed. “Alyson! You misunderstand. I was trying to tell you that this power of theirs is, in the main, illusory. It comes from the symbiotic nature of the Pyramid itself. It does not belong to the individual seers, who are themselves quite ordinary.” Vash gave a graceful shrug, his dark eyes studying mine. “I also wished you to understand something of your husband...and the kind of man he would need to be to leave them, after he had been living inside that structure for over thirty years.”
I felt anger from Maygar’s corner and ignored it.
Outside the open windows, rain pattered on bamboo and slate tile roofs. A golden-colored eagle wheeled past one window, dark against the sky. When I looked at Vash, he was watching me with compassion in his eyes.
I cleared my throat. “If he were reconnected with them. To the Pyramid. Could he, well...be stuck?” My face warmed when the old man’s gaze didn’t waver. “...Even if he died?”
Vash looked up at the ceiling, eyes thoughtful. “It is a good question.” He leaned back in his seat, holding his knees. “What do you think?”
My throat closed. “I don’t know. It feels like he is.”
Vash studied my face. “I see. Well, it would not be ideal to leave him there, would it?”
I didn’t answer. After another beat, he laid a hand on my leg.
“Alyson,” he said. “I understand from Chandre you have found the Head of the Rooks’ network.” He paused, his silence questioning. “Is that true?”
I looked up. Glancing around, I was a little startled to see fear...even wonder...in the eyes of the seers sitting in a wider circle behind Vash. Even Maygar stared at my face, his expression showing a kind of dumbfounded shock. Only after I noticed the eerie glow of reflected light on the surface of my coffee did I realize how I had managed to scare all those seers so badly. My eyes glowed the same iridescent green I’d seen reflected in Revik’s more than once.
“Yeah,” I said, without looking up. “Yeah, I did. More or less. I don’t know who he is outside, though. Outside the Barrier, I mean.”
“Could you show us?” Vash said.
I sighed, feeling incredibly tired suddenly. I looked at Maygar, and saw the skepticism that had returned to his eyes.
“Yes,” I said, watching him stare at me. “Sure I could. Why not?”






 
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24
HUNT

 
Less than an hour later, I lay on a beat up recliner in the same building, staring up at a water-damaged ceiling. Beside me paced Maygar. Another seer attached electrodes to my face and arms. I winced as he pressed down on bruised parts of my skin.
“Tell me something,” I said. “This war...?”
“It is the most likely of outcomes,” Maygar said, giving a dismissive wave.
“So not inevitable?”
“No.” He gave me another look, that one slightly less hard. “I would have said differently before. I would have said it’s not about death, but rebirth. That the Bridge doesn’t cause war. That her being here merely signals it’s time for it to begin.”
He ran a thumb lightly over his bicep. I noticed a tattoo there, what looked like writing. His knuckles were bruised too, probably from connecting with my face.
He cleared his throat. I looked up.
He was focused on my mouth, not hiding the meaning behind his stare.
When I rolled my eyes, he only smiled.
“There’s even some who say Death comes,” he added in a light voice. “Syrimne d’ Gaos...‘Sword of the Gods.’ It’s where that other seer got his name, the one during World War I. It’s also the meaning of the sword and sun you see drawn on the temple door. And on me...” He lifted his shirt’s sleeve, showing me a tattoo of the bisected blue sun on his arm. “This is a terrorist’s mark, Bridge. A real one.” He grinned at my unimpressed look.
“The real Death,” he added. “The real Syrimne...he’s supposed to be a creature like you.” He gestured with one thick hand.
“...A brother, as it were.”
My hands tightened on the chair.
Maygar didn’t notice, but only shrugged again, his voice bored. “I’ve also read interpretations that perhaps he’s the one as causes the shift,” he added. “But Bridge, the end of every cycle is a mystery. There are too many variables...and even humans have free will.” He glanced to where James, the robed follower from reception, stood talking to Chandre by the door, smiling at her with obvious adoration in his eyes.