Allie's War Season One (22 page)

“She likes the paintings, Revi’,” Ullysa said. “Especially the thankahs.”

I glanced down, and saw him looking at me from the bed. The sweatshirt was gone, but he didn’t look like he’d been doing the big sex, like Kat had said. He gestured delicately to the woman who sat next to him in a chair, stitching up his shoulder.

As soon as he had, she pressed a palm to his forehead.

When she took her fingers away, his eyes were closed. Seeing him lying there so still and pale, I stepped closer to the bed, my hands shoved deep in my pockets.

“He will sleep now.” The woman stitching his shoulder...or girl really, I realized, now that I stood closer...smiled. Her bleached, platinum hair stuck up in curled tufts around an elfin face. “I let him stay awake until he saw you...but no more. I am sorry.”

I hesitated, not sure I was ready for more bad news.

“Is he all right?” I said.

“The shot was clean,” she assured me, tugging the thread up by the needle, pulling his skin taut. “Physically, he will recover well. He has lost a lot in structure, though,” she said more somberly. “...That will take longer.” The elfin face turned to mine. “Will you hold for him?”

My mind puzzled over this for a few beats. I glanced at Ullysa.

“We will all provide light,” Ullysa explained to me. “But one person serves as a conduit. Ivy is asking if you will take that role.”

I still didn’t get it. I nodded anyway.

Ullysa’s smile warmed. “As in many things, the best way to learn is by doing.”

My jaw tightened. “I’d rather not use a dying guy as my test case. You’re his friends...why don’t one of you do it?”

Ivy glanced up at me in surprise. “He asked for you.”

My cheeks warmed. “Fine. But I’m not exactly qualified. And I’m pretty damned tired myself, if you want the truth.”

Ullysa took my arm, guiding me gently towards the bed. “You must be very, very tired, sister,” she said, her voice a near purr. “This requires no strength or effort, I assure you...merely structure, and you have that in abundance. We will do the rest.”

I stared at Revik’s body sprawled on the dark orange comforter. Ivy was knotting the stitching on his shoulder. I watched until she glanced up, smiling as she bit off the excess thread. A pulse of warmth reached me from the girl’s light as she did it, like what Revik had done to me in the other room. It seemed to be a form of affection...or reassurance maybe...like a hand on the arm at hello. The simple gesture brought my emotion surging to the surface.

“Is my family all right?” I said. “Has there been anything on the feeds about them?”

The warmth from Ivy increased.

She nodded. “Interviews were released by SCARB. They have all said you are innocent...that you would not hurt anyone.” Ivy clicked softly. “No avatars, of course, but we will protect them. We believe the Rooks were behind that, the showing of their real faces...”

“No avatars?” I said. “What did they look like?”

Ivy rolled her eyes up in thought. “A very sad and worried woman with dark curly hair and large eyes who they say is your mother. A handsome man with streaked hair, Chinese writing on his arms, and broad shoulders who is your brother. A Thai girl with hair like Ullysa’s and who wears dark lipstick...” Ivy held her hands out to approximate Cass’s generous chest, and I laughed in spite of myself. Ivy smiled. “They seemed very nice.”

I felt myself take a breath. “Then they’re okay.”

Ivy smiled. “They are fine, Esteemed Bridge.”

I hesitated, staring at her.

Esteemed Bridge.
Those were the exact words the other woman had used...and the same ones Revik called me whenever he didn’t forget and call me Allie instead. Or when he was stressed out and wanted me to do something, like when he’d been dragging me across Golden Gate Park by the wrist, trying to get us out of San Francisco.

Before I could ask, Ullysa pushed gently at my back until I sat on the edge of the bed.

She very efficiently removed the jeans I’d stolen off the clothesline earlier that day, leaving me with the long-sleeved T-shirt and nothing else. I slid my legs under the quilt, not caring. Lying down was followed by unspeakable relief as I sank between clean sheets. I watched Ivy continue to work over Revik, bandaging his shoulder. If I’d known him even a little better, I might have curled up on his other side, maybe even wrapped my arm around him.

I was tempted to do it anyway.

I turned to Ullysa, but she held up a hand.

“Shhh, Esteemed sister. Do not talk. I apologize profoundly for the lack of warmth in your greeting here. Revi’ has already told us that you saved his life several times...”

I was about to argue, then decided she probably didn’t care.

“What do I do?” I said. “The holding thing, I mean?”

“Relax,” Ullysa said.

This time it was a command.

My eyelids immediately closed.

11

VOW

I STAND IN a field.

Grasses pool at my feet, flooding down the hill below me like ocean waves. The wind stirs them into rippling patterns, woven wildflowers creating a mosaic of dusty pinks and purples in the cold, clean air, and I am awake, more awake than I can ever remember being. Snow-covered mountains loom above where I stand, jagged and coarse, and incredibly still. Those mountains have their own presence, even apart from the sky and towering clouds, and I look up at them, drinking in their beauty until...

He pulls on me, turning my head.

He stands there, alone, staring up at those same mountains, his long form utterly still.

He doesn't seem to see me, but I feel him all around me, as if I’m looking at him through him...as if I am inside him, too.

This place, it is a part of him, somehow.

...I WALK A corridor now, barefoot.

It is carpeted, with high-walled, dark wood paneling, oiled to a lustrous shine. Lamps hang down the center of the ceiling at regular intervals, made of crystal and iron. They flicker as I walk past, but I am a ghost here, invisible. Brightly-colored paintings garnish muted wallpaper, as different from the paintings on Ullysa’s wall as they can be. I trace them with my eyes—white men on muscled steeds, Wagner-esque with a hint of Valhalla. The riders’ expressions mirror one another, stern but wise, unintentionally cartoonish.

Through an open doorway, a harsh, emotional voice speaks over the crackle of an ancient radio.

Servants stand over it, listening. They don’t notice me, but I recognize the voice, even understand the words, although in the real world I don’t understand German.

“
God knows that I have indeed wanted peace...”

Ahead, the sounds of a larger party beckon.

The man’s strident words pull at me, inexorable.

“
...We were forced to fight. In the face of such malice, I can do nothing but protect the interests of the Reich with such means as, thank God, are at our disposal...”

Voices grow louder from the room off the corridor ahead. I hear laughter interspersed with the murmur of conversations, some of it tinny and off-kilter, drunk-sounding.

A cluster of men walk towards me, wearing uniforms.

“
...They were bound to regard this action as a provocation emanating from the State that once had set the whole of Europe on fire and had been guilty of indescribable sufferings. But those days of using seers and Jews to fight the battles of men are now past. An error we regret, one we will not repeat...”

Four men approach in that group. Soldiers. I recognize the color and shape of their uniforms and what they mean, their import, but here, the clothing feels mundane.

They speak German, like the radio.

“The
Fuhrer’s
speech is not finished,” a tow-headed boy of maybe seventeen says. He shoves a cap back on his head, rubbing his forehead. “We shouldn’t have left.”

The man next to him throws an arm over his shoulder. “Aw, read the text in the papers. I need something stronger to drink...and there are nothing but dogs in that pen.” Drunk already, he grins, eyes bleary. “...At least that I could bark at without getting shot!” He laughs, slapping the tow-headed one in the back of the head. “Dogs! Ha!”

A third looks over, a giant with dark hair and thick lips. His arm, when he raises his flask, is the size of my thigh.

“My god...you didn’t have the view I did. Did you see Rolf's wife? Holy Christ.”

“What an ass on her!” tow head says, smiling.

“And she has that look—” the drunk one leers.

“—Like you want to surprise her,” the giant says. “Yes, I saw. Lucky bastard.”

The fourth one listens intently. Of them, his eyes shine clearest, a blue that looks like steel in a ferret-like face. His uniform is the least rumpled, the least sweat-stained. He also wears a slightly different insignia at his collar.

“He should not have brought her here,” he says only, into the silence.

Tow-head takes the flask from his giant friend. “He’s in love. It’s romantic, isn’t it?”

The ferret-faced man’s German remains clipped. “It is no excuse for stupidity. Blauvelt was not subtle in his attentions. I would not want the assignments Rolf pulls after this meeting.” He mutters, softer, “...Especially with his pedigree.”

“What?” the giant asks. “What did you say?”

“Aww, who cares?” the drunk one says. “He’d cut our balls off if we breathed on her. Let’s go find our own tail...some that doesn’t have a Luger attached to it.”

They walk through me and past me down the corridor from which I’ve come, as if I were a puff of smoke. I watch them leave out another door, but my feet compel me to continue in the other direction.

The sounds of the party grow louder. I follow the clink of glasses, the low murmur of voices, but above this, the rise and fall of the emotional speech dominates. Occasionally the words are broken by wild applause, both by those in the room ahead of me and by a crowd far bigger that carries through the loudspeakers themselves.

“
...The training of our officers is excellent beyond comparison. The high standard of efficiency of our soldiers, the superiority of our equipment, the quality of our munitions and the indomitable courage of all ranks have combined to lead at such small sacrifice to a success of truly decisive historical importance. What need have we of homo fervens? Of Syrimne? Should we weaken our humanity further by dependence on foreigners and half-breeds...?”