27

LONDON

 

I AIMED MY body down a London street, scanning faces.

I took in buildings as well, and the occasional car as we strolled past yet another wooded park, a different park from the one we’d first passed as we’d left the tube station.

I stopped at a newsstand and stared blankly at the morphing feed headlines blaring from a monitor over the stand window. My eyes took in the actual words beats later, which went something like this:

“NEW SYRIMNE KILLS 28 IN PAKISTAN BOMB BLAST! TERRORIST PLOT LINKED TO CHINA!”

Even after months of travel and India, I still commanded the front page.

I read details as they ran out under the headlines. Apparently I was believed dead again, I noted. I was still reading about how I’d died when Maygar came up from behind me and took my arm none too gently in his thick fingers. He led me down a street lined with white houses that looked to me like they’d been torn from the pages of a London storybook.

Flags from different countries flapped over our heads.

A limo slid by with tinted, bullet-proof glass and small square flags on the front of its hood, too, then another flanked by military police.

It struck me as interesting that Maygar had brought me here, where representatives from at least a dozen countries seemed to have taken up residence, most of whom would pay top dollar to see me collared and stuck in the back of a windowless van.

Still, it was pretty, where we were.

The park flourished in the background, dense with green, filled with strolling men in suits who held the arms of women wearing hats and gloves, giving it a strangely timeless feel. I looked down at my own hands, which were dyed darker than my normal skin tone. My stubby nails made me look like a drug addict, or some kind of street kid. Touching the silver chain necklace I wore around my neck, I shoved those same hands into my pockets.

For the plane ride over, the seers used everything but surgery to disguise my appearance. I flew out of Kolkata wearing facial implants, skin dye, blood patches on all my fingers in the event of a random racial screening, colored contact lenses, a wig, a hat, several scarves. My fingerprints and DNA matched my ident, which was that of an East Indian woman traveling for business with her merchant husband.

My current attempt to blend was a bit more West than East, and consisted of men’s mirrored sunglasses and a hoodie. Pretty low-tech, but surprisingly effective against the street-level facial recognition software employed by cameras that dotted most London public areas.

I still wore the black wig and skin dye, blood patches and contact lenses under the dark shades, but the facial implants had started to hurt, so I took most of them off. Maygar seemed to think we could avoid the higher grade facial-rec stuff as long as we weren’t picked up...and as long as we stayed away from banks and private residencies in the more exclusive areas.

The Seven employed seers in London who could intercept a breach, as well.

According to Maygar, they would pick up any flags well in advance of the humans...if not perhaps in advance of the Rooks.

Still, despite all the precautions they insisted upon, most of the Seven’s Guard seemed fairly comfortable with my proposed trip and destination. London remained a Seven town, at least in terms of operational majority.

My clothes were men’s, oversized and shapeless, and I wore tennis shoes, making me look like a punk American tourist. On the other hand, considering the multiple versions of my face now in papers and feeds, I figured it was as good a disguise as any. I glanced at another gabled house with high windows when Maygar thrust a carton of juice into my hand.

“Stop looking up,” he said. “And drink. We’re not far.”

“Have you been here before?”

He grunted. “No, Bridge. Your husband and I were never on ‘dinner guest’ terms. Sadly.”

I focused down another row of attached houses adorned with white pillars. Each one had a main story above the road that stretched up double the usual height, with heavily curtained windows. I found myself thinking about seeing Peter Pan as a kid, in the theater.

“Maybe you got the area wrong,” I said.

“And maybe I didn’t,” Maygar said. “You know who he worked for, don’t you?”

I focused on a bronze lion’s head with a ring in its mouth. It stood on a pole in front of steps leading to an entrance framed by more white pillars and perfect, corkscrew shrubs before a heavy oak door. I saw cameras on both sides of the door, but otherwise, I half-expected Mary Poppins to walk out, singing a song.

“No idea,” I said.

Maygar clicked at me softly. “Bastard didn’t tell you anything.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Do you want me to tell you, Bridge?”

I had to think for a minute. “No.”

He shrugged. I could tell he still wanted to tell me.

“Vash had to approve it,” he said, trying to tantalize me instead. “Dehgoies was still officially in penance, so the work he did remained under scrutiny.” Stopping then, he pointed up the street. “There. That’s the one.”

I swallowed when I saw where his finger pointed.

The corner building dominated half of one street block, also white, but taller than any of those we’d passed. Given the height of the windows, at least one of the eight floors came equipped with 20 foot ceilings. Ionic columns of a similar height supported that floor, with smaller versions of the same on two of the other floors, each with ornate capitals in the shape of four-cornered scrolls. Flags rippled above the main entrance, displaying a distinctly British-looking coat of arms. Small trees decorated the upper balconies, cut in precise shapes.

“He lived there? Seriously?”

“Yes.” Maygar let out a quiet snort. “His employers let him have it for security reasons...and because their main buildings are nearby. The penthouse flat was his. It takes up the entire top floor. The rest is leased out to rich humans and foreign dignitaries.”

I focused on the doorman out front, who stood with clasped gloved hands over a fitted jacket. He bent to open the rear door to a stretch limo that pulled up to the curb, taking a woman’s hand to help her out a few seconds later. Watching as more doormen bustled around to remove packages from the inside and trunk, I swallowed.

“Okay,” I said. “You’d better tell me who he worked for.”

Maygar smiled, his light exuding a warm flicker of triumph. “This building, my dear Bridge, is owned by the British government. Around the corner, on that square we just walked through...which is the famous Belgrave Square, by the way...is the Royal College of Defense Studies. Your husband worked there as an instructor.” He gave an odd kind of laugh, shaking his head. “Dehgoies taught worms how to fight seers.”

I turned slowly, staring at him. “You’re not serious.”

“I am,” Maygar assured me. “From what I understand, his addition to the faculty upped the international student count considerably.” Again he grinned. “His name wasn’t given out, of course. Hell...for all I know, he only taught from VR, using an avatar. He contracted for them on the side, as well...but a good seven months of the year he taught tactical inter-species warfare to rich military brats from all over the world.”

By then we were approaching the high-rise building. I stared up at it, gave a half-laugh.

“Then the big secret is...he was legit? He had a real job?”

“A real job?” Maygar’s mouth hardened from its previous glee. “Bridge, do you have any idea how many seers would have actively tried to kill him if they knew he did this ‘real job?’ If there ever was a blood-traitor job, that was it.”

Grabbing the juice from me, he took a long drink. Once he’d lowered the carton, he gave me another look, humor once more teasing his full lips.

“...The joke among those of us who knew was that Dags was a worm fucker.” He grinned wider before clarifying, “...that he preferred worms to seers. Given that he married one, and the Kraut daughter of a Nazi General, at that, I don’t think it’s such a stretch, do you?” Tilting his head back to drink more of the juice, he swallowed as he lowered the carton, his eyes still on me. “Come to think of it...he picked a human over you, didn’t he, Bridge?”

“And a seer,” I said.

He grinned. “Yeah. That’s right. But he fucked the human, yes?”

I felt this as a sucker punch to somewhere in the navel region. The irony should have struck me, but it didn’t.

“Yeah,” I said. “Yeah, he did.”

Maygar grinned again, clapping me on the shoulder.

“Don’t be so sensitive, Bridge. He’s dead.”

By then we’d reached the front door. The doorman opened for us once Maygar showed his ID, but not before giving me a down-the-nose disapproving look for my attire. A security guard walked us to an art deco elevator and stepped inside after motioning us ahead. Stepping just inside the door, he inserted a key, twisted it sideways, then punched in an access code before pressing the top button labeled ‘Penthouse.’ Watching all this, I felt a little sick.

“Maybe you were right,” I muttered to Maygar.

“About what this time?”

“I’m beginning to think this was a bad idea.”

The security guard gave me a questioning look, but I barely registered it. Did I really want to see where he’d lived? I was pretty sure I’d find out yet more things I didn’t want to know. My stomach continued to hurt the higher we traveled, until I started to wonder what the hell was wrong with me. Maygar apparently wondered the same thing. He nudged me with an elbow.

“You look like you’re going to throw up,” he said out of the side of his mouth. “What is wrong?”

I shook my head, giving him an irritated look.

The elevator let out a soft ping, and the doors slid open. The security guard used gloved fingers to point us down the hall. He smiled at me as we exited, giving me a wink as he hit the button to go back down.

He needn’t have bothered with directions. There was only one door. It had no markings, no identifiers of any kind. A small eye of God stuck out of the ceiling, one of those cameras with a darkened bubble guarding the lens.

“Do we knock?” I whispered it for some reason.

Maygar held up a set of keys, jangling them. “Why?” he said. He bent to the lock, but the door suddenly opened, revealing a small, wiry man in his thirties with a wide face and thinning brown hair. Maygar and I both lurched back in alarm.

The man appeared startled too.

Looking at him, I wondered if they’d rented out the apartment. The man stared between Maygar and me, then focused on me, almost like he knew me.

Hesitantly, I stepped forward.

“We’re friends of Dehgoies Revik,” I said. “He used to live here. We’ve only just now come around to pick up his things. If we’re too late, maybe you could tell us where they’ve been moved...?”

“I know who you are,” the man blurted.

I felt Maygar tense behind me.

Taking a breath, I said, “I don’t think so, Mister...?”

“Eddard,” he said. He stepped out of the doorway, moving almost gracefully. “Please follow me.” When I hesitated, Eddard said, more insistently, “Please...ma’am. Come with me.”

I glanced back at Maygar, who was shaking his head minutely, eyes adamant. When I indicated with my head that we should follow, he shook his head again. When I stepped forward, however, he did the same, only pausing to hold up his hands as if to say, Fine, but this is a terrible idea.

I knew I was being reckless. Neither of us could risk using our sight; the apartment was likely to be under surveillance no matter who this guy was. But, I figured, we could either risk going in now or bolt out and hope they let us leave. With the former I at least had a chance of getting what we’d come for.

So I followed Eddard inside.

When the human got a few paces ahead, Maygar stepped closer, lowering his mouth to my ear.

“We’re in a building owned by the British military,” he murmured. “Following a man who says he knows who you are.”

“It’s going to be okay,” I told him.

“Really? How reassuring.”

“Just trust me. Please, Maygar.”

He looked at me like I had brain damage, but shrugged when I didn’t flinch, falling in step behind me.

I focused so intently on the man in front of us that I barely took in the house itself. Once we’d reached the first staircase, however, I found my eyes pulled off his back, and suddenly I was seeing the high, wood-paneled walls and ceilings, bronze sculptures, paintings and stone floors. Hanging tapestries the size of my apartment floor covered one of the high walls of the main hallway. Faded with age, they looked like they belonged in a museum.

Even the walls had been polished recently. A blanket-sized thankah of that Buddha with the many heads drew my eyes as we passed to the left of the giant marble staircase. Staring at the thankah, then up to the landing below the second floor where I saw another Asian vase, I found myself thinking that maybe these were Revik’s things after all, waiting for auction. I let my eyes travel further up, taking in the domed cupola above the stairs, an oval window with smaller but equally ornate ionic columns ringing it like the bell tower of a cathedral.

Eddard led us into a room with built-in, floor to ceiling walnut bookshelves and worn but expensive-looking leather furniture planted before a marble fireplace. The walls were paneled like the others, but I saw another Asian-looking stand in one corner, a heavy, hand-painted Chinese cabinet and a number of Japanese vases. Olive green drapes as old and expensive-looking as the rest of the furnishings hung beside tall sash windows.

No pictures decorated the room, I noticed...then paused. Well, only one. A small, normal-sized photograph sat on the mantle in a wooden frame.

As I walked towards it, I felt something constrict in my chest.

“Wait here, please,” Eddard said.

“Hey,” Maygar began. “Wait a...”

But Eddard was already closing the double doors, blocking us off from the main hall. Folding his arms, Maygar turned on me.

“Great. This is brilliant, Bridge. He’s probably calling his pals in the Sweeps.”

My eyes remained on the photograph, tracing the lines of an image I knew so well I found it difficult to look at. In it, my father held me in his arms, smiling. He’d already lost weight from the MS, but he looked happy, and strong.

My mother’s face shone from the other side of the frame, so young it shocked me, and between them, I leaned against my dad’s chest, grinning, one arm clamped around his neck as I played with my mom’s hair. The picture hit me like a punch in the face.

Maygar finally seemed to have noticed. “What?” he said. “What is the matter?” He looked at the mantle over the fireplace, where the picture stood. “What, Bridge?”

“I want to go,” I said.

“Did you feel something?” Wariness sharpened his voice.

“No.” I shook my head, looking away from the photograph.

The doors slammed open. I turned, but couldn’t see past the clouds in my eyes, couldn’t take in the form running at me across the Persian rug. When she finally reached me, she threw herself into my arms, nearly knocking me over, then squeezed me so tightly I couldn’t breathe.

But gods, she was so thin...like a ghost. Even in my shock, I was afraid I might break her.

“Allie!” she shrieked. “Allie! Allie! Allie! Allie! Allie!”

I stood there, feeling like I’d been repeatedly hit in the face. Cass snatched the sunglasses off my eyes, yanked the sweatshirt hood and the wig off my head. When I saw her without obstruction, my heart seized.

I saw Maygar jerk in our direction, unholstering his gun.

“Stop!” he said.

His tone of voice shocked me, jerked my eyes off of her.

“Take your hands off her!” he said. “Now!”

“No!” I held up a hand to him. “No! It’s okay!”

Then I saw my brother in the doorway, and lost my voice.

I barely recognized him. His black and red and blond-dyed hair had grown out in a streaked tangle past his shoulders. His face was paler than I’d ever seen it, his eyes too large, his cheekbones too prominent. One of his hands wore a flesh-colored bandage, but he didn’t look like Cass, who...I turned, staring at the scar that split her face, feeling sick for staring but unable to stop. I wanted to touch it, to see if it was real, when she grinned, shaking my shoulders to get my eyes back to hers.

“Hideous, aren’t I?” She grinned, but I saw a denser pool of sadness there. No, not sadness, a kind of brokenness that disappeared even as I glimpsed it. “Forget that! You’re here! You’re here!” She squeezed me again, jumping up and down.

I hadn’t managed to make my mind emit so much as a single coherent thought, but when she grinned at me, something in me seemed to break. I gripped her, pulling her against me. I held her as tight as I dared, still afraid I would hurt her.

“How are you here?” I managed. “How did you get here? Cass! How are you here?” I clutched her tighter. “Cass...”

“How did we get here?” Cass demanded, shoving me playfully. “We heard you were dead! That you blew up in a bomb! In Pakistan, no less!”

By then, Jon reached me, too, and he pulled me away from Cass, crushing me in his thinner but still strong arms.

“Damn it, Al.” He kissed my face. “I can’t believe it. I’m so glad to see you.” He choked, and when I saw him fighting not to cry, I felt myself do the same, although my mind still hadn’t caught up. I could barely look at him.

“Jon...” I managed. I clutched his shirt. “Where did you come from?”

“Where?” He gave a strange kind of laugh, wiping his eyes. “We finally caught a plane from Istanbul. Revik’s going to freak, you know...like, lose it.”

I froze in his arms, but Jon went on talking, not noticing.

“We had to dig ourselves out of some hole in Georgia...as in Stalin, not banjos.” He let out another strangled laugh. “Since then, he’s been moving us in circles for weeks, worried we would lead them to you, and now you come to us, like some kind of...” Seeing my face, he trailed, as if confused by what he saw. “Your picture was all over the news. We thought you were dead...they said you were dead! Revik’s been talking to Vash since we got here, but no one’s heard from you since they dropped you off in Kolkata...” He wiped his eyes again. “They couldn’t say where you were going...some security thing.”

“Revik?” I managed. “Did you say—”

“Shit.” Jon stared at my face. “I can’t believe you’re here. I’d given up. I really had.”

“Revik?” I repeated.

“Yeah.” Jon did a double-take on my face. “You don’t know! He’s with us, Al. Terian got me and Cass in San Francisco. They brought Revik in a few weeks later. He looked like hell...” Jon gave a humorless laugh. “...Still does, if you want the truth. But he saved our lives...more than once. Of course, he nearly shot us dead, thinking we were more Terian bodies. Terian had him drugged, and we were all a little crazy by then...”

He paused, thinking. His eyes grew puzzled as he looked at me.

“Al,” he said. “You’re not here for us at all, are you?”

Cass laughed. “Who cares? She’s here!” She yanked on my arm. I stared at her again, unable to take my eyes off the scar. I looked at Jon’s bandaged hand. It looked too small.

I reached for it, and he pulled it away, smiling at me wanly.

“Don’t trip, sis. We’re okay.” His eyes remained on me, carrying an odd intensity I didn’t recognize. “And what the heck happened to you?” He held out my arms, looking at me. “Even in that get-up, you look like you should be carrying an uzi. You actually look...taller. What have those crazy seers done to you?”

I couldn’t force out words. I stared between them, feeling like I might pass out. Just then, Maygar seemed to have come to the end of his rope.

“Bridge,” he hissed through his teeth. “Who are these fucking humans? What is going on? If you don’t tell me, I’m going to start shooting people...starting with myself!”

Cass and Jon’s eyes swiveled, taking in the muscular seer who, I realized suddenly, still hovered over me, trying to decide if he should intervene.

Cass spoke first, looking Maygar up and down. She nudged my elbow, giving me a wan smile.

“Who’s the cutie?” she said. “You two-timing, girl?” Lowering her voice, she murmured by my ear, “...I hope he has insurance.”

I glanced at Maygar, baffled, not sure at first what she even meant...when the look on his face brought me up short. Maygar’s eyes were trained out through the study doors. As I watched, a deep scowl lined his features.

“I don’t believe it,” he said. “That son of a bitch has nine lives.”

Without thinking, I followed his gaze, and my eyes connected solidly and without warning with Revik.

He stood several yards back from the doorway, wearing a dress shirt and black pants, arms folded tightly across his chest, talking to Eddard. From his face and profile he looked about forty pounds lighter than the last time I’d seen him. I felt him notice my stare, even as I realized he wasn’t going to return it. I watched his hand comb long fingers through his black hair, noticed the absence of his ring, and suddenly the chain I wore felt heavy around my neck.

Averting my eyes, I clutched the back of the leather couch.

My hands actually shook. I gripped the couch harder, but it didn’t help. Cass caught my arm, her voice excited again.

“You won’t believe the crazy shit we’ve seen!” she said. “We were in Russia, Allie! In this town of slave traders in the mountains! Some guy tried to buy me! It was freakin’ psychotic. And Revik speaks Russian, so he basically told the guy—”

“Not now, Cass.” Jon patted my shoulder when I didn’t look up. Taking my hand, he rubbed my fingers with his. “You all right, little sis? Your brain’s not going to explode, is it?” Once my eyes flickered up, he smiled. “Surprised to see us?”

I nodded.

“Did you think we were dead?” he said.

I nodded again, feeling tears come to my eyes.

“And Revik?” Jon prompted. “You thought he was dead?”

Fighting the impulse to turn, to confirm what I’d seen standing in the hall, ignoring me, which should have been confirmation enough...I gave Jon another nod. I wiped my cheek with the back of my hand, then sank to the leather couch. Cass and Jon sat on either side of me, each with an arm slung around my back. I don’t know how long I sat there, but eventually, I took a hand from each of them. I cleared my throat.

“We haven’t eaten,” I said. “Maygar’s probably—”

“Yeah.” Cass’s voice was quiet. “They’re talking right now...him and that other guy.”

“Oh.” I didn’t look towards the door.

“So I guess Terian wasn’t lying about you and Revik?” Jon smiled, punching my arm. “You’ve got a frickin’ husband, Al? How did that happen?”

“He really did save our lives,” Cass added. “He’s a nice guy, honestly...if a little scary at times.” Her voice grew tentative. “Is he still your husband though, Allie? He thinks you’re really mad at him. It sounded like he deserved it...but, well...I like him, Al. A lot.”

I stared at the pattern in the rug.

After a few seconds, I let out a short laugh. It sounded like a seal’s bark.

“I think she’s in shock, Cass,” Jon said.

“Well, where is he?” she said, sounding angry. “I thought he’d come in here at least. What’s he doing out there?”

“Hiding.” Jon laughed, poking me in the ribs with his fingers. “Turns out Rambo might be afraid of his wife. Are you going to talk to him, sis? Or let him stew out there?”

I raised my hands, using my fingers to comb the hair out of my face.

“Is there a bathroom?” I said.

I felt them look at each other.

Then Jon’s voice grew matter-of-fact. “Yeah. Sure.”

He stood me up, steering me gently towards the door of the study...then right past Revik and Maygar, both of whom I felt looking at me now. I followed Jon to the base of the staircase without returning their stares, and he pointed up.

“Bathrooms are bigger up there. You can even take a bath if you want...in fact, I highly recommend it. There’s clothes, too. Cass has bags of new stuff...second door down, I think. He took us shopping a few days ago, and man does that guy have an expense account.” Jon grinned when I glanced up, but the grin faded when he saw my face. “Al. Are you all right?”

I nodded. “Don’t wait for me. I won’t be long.”

He pulled me into his arms. I felt his heart, a warm flare in his chest.

“I’m so glad you’re all right, Al. I’ve been worried about you. For months. I was beginning to think...”

Tears stuck in my throat. “Me too.”

He let me go. After standing there awkwardly for a few more seconds, I turned and began to climb the stairs. When I glanced down from the half-floor landing, Jon still looked up at me, his eyes worried, his hands resting on his hips below too-thin arms decorated with tattoos. I noticed new scars, fading bruises, and looked away.

I need a bath, I thought. Then I would feel normal again.

Then I would be all right.

IT TOOK ME longer than what I’d told Jon.

I didn’t know whose bedroom I was in, didn’t want to think about it too closely when I saw women’s shampoo on the rack alongside men’s.

Wrapped in a towel once I’d finished, I wandered into two different rooms before I found the bag Jon mentioned. I was over two inches taller than Cass by then, with a chest about two sizes smaller, but I finally settled on low-hung silk pants and a stretchy tee. After scrutinizing my reflection in the mirror for far too long, contemplating make up, then abandoning the idea, I tied my hair in a loose knot at the base of my neck and made myself go downstairs.

Jon and Cass were alive. My best friends were alive. By the time I reached the bottom of the stairs, that much had finally penetrated.

My smile as I entered the dining room even felt real.

I sat in the chair closest to the door without making eye contact with anyone other than Jon, who, seeing my smile, grinned back. I looked for Cass, found her sitting next to Revik in the opposite corner. He had an arm draped over the back of her chair, and she laughed as she told him something. He smiled, tugging the ends of her long hair. I stared at his hand where he touched her, saw more affection in his eyes as he looked at her than he’d ever aimed at me.

Then I heard Maygar’s mocking voice as we’d approached the building.

...prefers humans.

Revik’s eyes swiveled to mine. For the first time, he looked directly at me, and the look there was...christ. It was guilt.

I moved before my brain could process a complete thought.

“Allie.” Revik’s chair squealed on the hard wood. He stood almost as I did. “Allie.” He held out a hand, what looked like a peace gesture, or something you might do to calm an animal. “Allie...where are you going?”

Silence fell on the room. I swallowed, looking around at faces.

Maygar sat back in his chair, arms folded. He raised an eyebrow at me, but I flinched when I saw the pity in his eyes. Jon gave Revik a warning look I couldn’t interpret, and Cass just looked confused.

I couldn’t make myself look at Revik.

“I...” I cleared my throat. “Sorry.” I waved vaguely at the spread on the table. “Go on, eat. I’ll be right back.” I was lying. I knew I was lying, that I was running away, but I couldn’t do it, not even for Cass. I’d just walk away, I told myself. Pull my shit together. Then I’d come back. They’d obviously been through hell. I had no right to begrudge anyone anything that might have come of it, especially since I was—

“Allie!” Revik’s voice was sharp.

When everyone looked at him, he cleared his throat.

“Can it wait? We need you here. Maygar didn’t want to speak for you.”

I looked at Maygar, who nodded, indicating for me to sit. “We need a plan, Bridge. Your husband...” He said the word with open contempt, and I felt Revik’s eyes shift to him. “...Seems to believe they may have been followed. That they were allowed to escape in the hopes he would lead the Rooks to you.” Maygar looked to Jon. “Did I get that right?”

“Yeah.” Jon glanced between Maygar and Revik, wary. “Yeah. That’s right.”

I stood there, feeling trapped. I looked at Cass, saw that Revik had moved his chair several feet from hers. Feeling sick, I looked at Jon. His eyes openly asked me to stay. Noticing again how thin he was, I swallowed, nodding. I glanced at the scar on Cass’s face, saw her looking at me with worry in her eyes, and hated myself more. Gods, what was wrong with me?

“All right.” I lowered my weight to the chair. “Sure.”

I felt everyone around the table exhale.

Cass was the first to smile at me. “Maygar said you’ve been in India this whole time?”

I nodded. “Yeah. For the last few months, anyway. Learning. Training. You know...”

“Why are you here?” Revik said.

Before I could stop myself, I looked at him.

His face had fallen back into the infiltrator’s mask, his eyes focused on the table. He really was thin. Thinner than Cass or Jon, although all three of them looked like concentration camp victims. When Cass shoved a plate at me, I tugged it closer with my fingers, picking at a pile of what looked like fried potatoes with a fork.

“I was looking for clues,” I said. “Imprints, I guess.”

“Of what?” Revik said. He didn’t raise his eyes.

“I’ve been tracking Galaith...I got as far as you.”

Cass shoved a forkful of salad in her mouth. “What’s a Galaith?” she said.

“The head of the Rooks’ network,” Revik said. “Terian’s old boss.” His voice aimed back at me. “Why him?”

I shrugged, not answering. I felt him react to my silence, a near flinch.

“What about the bomb?” Jon said. “Was that you?”

I felt the illness worsen, realized Revik was actually scanning me with his light. “No,” I said. I glanced at Jon, forced a smile. “No bombs lately.”

There was another silence while everyone ate. I watched Revik cut up a piece of meat and stare at it. Jon and Cass ate like they were starving, like they might not eat again. I saw Cass nudge Revik to eat then, and looked away.

“Allie,” Revik said, still not looking at me. “What do you want with Galaith? You know he’d only be replaced, if—”

“Yeah, I know, I...” Realizing I’d cut him off, I stopped. I felt my face warm, but kept my voice neutral, almost businesslike. “The seers in India, they had a plan. I’ve been able to help them some...” I shrugged, looking back at my plate. “...The plan is kind of a long shot, but anything would have been. I had my own axe to grind, I guess...and more of a direct line to Galaith than a lot of them, so...”

Feeling them all staring at me again, I glanced at Maygar, maybe for help.

“Look, maybe I shouldn’t involve any of you in this,” I said. “We should separate. They probably know I’m in London.”

I felt a pulse of something, realized it came from Revik. Whatever it was, it was intense enough to startle me. I glanced over at his face, but his eyes were fixed on Maygar.

His voice flattened. “You should know...there’s a factional struggle happening within the Rooks. Terian’s making a play for the top spot. My guess is, he wants you to do it for him...or to use you as leverage, maybe. Maybe even to do whatever it is you’re planning to do...”

“I doubt that.”

“Allie,” he said. “All I meant is—”

“I know,” I said, cutting him off again. “I got it, Revik. You think he’s playing me. That he maneuvered me into whatever I’m doing. You think I’m part of his little game now.”

There was a silence after I said it.

I felt my face warm, but didn’t look at anyone around the table. Replaying my own words, I realized again how what I’d said probably sounded to them, after everything. A kind of futility washed over me.

Revik broke the silence.

“I didn’t mean what I said as an insult, Allie,” he said, quiet. “He’s good at that. Manipulating events. All I meant was—”

“I understand,” I said. “It’s all right, Revik. Really.”

I felt my jaw harden when I realized I’d cut him off again.

Avoiding his eyes, I looked around the table, forcing myself to take in their physical condition, to really see it. I replayed Revik’s words in my head, looking at Jon’s hand, the cut on Cass’s face, whatever was wrong with Revik’s neck. Suddenly, everything I’d been doing with the Seven seemed pretty childish.

“Maybe you’re right,” I said, speaking into the silence. “You probably are right, Revik.” I hesitated, looking around at them again. “...I guess I went after the wrong Rook.”

I felt my face warm again when I replayed my own words.

Shaking my head, I fought my voice.

“Look, I’m sorry. I really am. I’m not saying anything right. I guess I don’t know how to say how terrible I feel about what happened to all of you...”

“Allie,” Cass said, softly.

I glanced at her. Seeing the brightness in her eyes, I looked at Jon. “The truth is, it’s still not safe, being near me...you must realize that now. I wish that were different. I really do. But it’s not. It might not ever be.”

When no one said anything, I cleared my throat, wiping my eyes.

“When we’re done here, Maygar and I’ll clear out.” I hesitated, glancing at Revik. He wouldn’t return my gaze. Looking past him, to Cass, I said, “Revik can probably get you somewhere safe. I’ve got money now. Vash promised me funds...I could...” I glanced at Revik. “...Hire him, I mean. If that’s all right.”

Another silence fell. I felt them staring at me, everyone except Revik.

Then Maygar grunted in amusement. He glanced at Revik, tossing his napkin to the table.

“Hear that?” he said. “You’ve been dismissed, Rook-boy.”

“Shut up, Maygar,” I said.

“Oh, don’t worry...I approve, Bridge. And you’re right. He’s probably screwing the redhead...”

“What?” Cass stared at him, then at me. “What did he say?”

I shook my head, giving Maygar a hard look. “He didn’t say anything, Cass. Please, just forget it.”

I saw her open her mouth, then look back at Maygar. Her eyes narrowed at him, right before she seemed to make up her mind, folding her arms.

“Whatever.”

I stood up, unable to look at any of them now.

“Look, this isn’t personal. Maygar was assigned to me by the Council, so he’s stuck...but none of you are.” I looked at Jon. “I don’t want to leave any of you. I love you. I hope you all know that. I’m serious about the danger, okay? Revik knows...he’ll tell you.”

There was a silence, this one longer. Revik didn’t move in his chair.

The human servant, Eddard, finally broke it by walking into the room. He glanced around, one eyebrow arched in question at the silence.

Then he cleared his throat, looking directly at me.

“Ma’am?” He waited for me to turn.

For a moment I couldn’t take my eyes off the others around the table. Jon was staring at Revik, as if willing him to say something. Cass was looking at me, her eyes holding a kind of disbelief, but I saw anger there, too. She glared at Maygar then, but he only smiled, winking at her before he kissed the air with his lips.

When I glanced at Revik, I found I couldn’t look away. He was staring at the table, his face completely devoid of expression.

“Ma’am?”

I turned my head finally, realizing the words were aimed at me.

“What?” I said. “Eddard? What is it?”

“The military is outside.”

“What?” Maygar leapt to his feet, shoving his chair back. “Which one?”

Eddard looked only at me. “I believe all of them, sir.”