22

FALLING

 

REVIK OPENED HIS eyes. He stared up at a gaunt face, sure he was dreaming. As he met the dark, yellow-tinted gaze, all he could think was that those irises were the color of urine...only the urine of someone sick, or extremely dehydrated.

Then his vision clicked back into focus...and the eyes above him were an opaque white, the color of bleached bones.

The Sark reached for his arm. His smooth voice held concern.

“Nephew...nephew, are you all right? Breathe, my son. Breathe...”

Revik fought to work his tongue. He pushed the wasted hands back, not wanting to touch them, struggling to pull himself off the floor.

The Sark immediately got out of his way.

He watched Revik with those ghost-like, white-irised eyes, unmoving as Revik pulled himself to a seated position. He clasped long fingers in front of his robe, as though waiting.

Revik leaned against the rock wall, not looking at the Sark as he brought his breathing under control. Pulling his body upright, he slid his back up the stone wall to get himself off the floor.

Then he just stood there, supporting his weight on the wall as he tested his balance.

He forced his expression flat.

What came out of his mouth still sounded aggressive.

“Are you Salinse?”

The gaunt seer tilted his head in assent. He continued studying Revik’s face. Whispers of concern flickered around Revik’s light, but he avoided them, fighting the impulse to cringe from the old man’s aleimic touch.

Salinse said, “Do you remember me, nephew?”

Revik’s throat tried to close. The familiar manner in which the old seer spoke to him...even the dialect he spoke hit him strangely. It was Prexci, but unlike any Prexci he had a conscious memory of hearing. He assumed it was from when he’d been a Rook, but, looking around, doubt tugged at him.

“No,” he said. “I don’t remember you.”

The Sark surveyed his appearance.

Revik felt the silver light touch him again and recoiled...even as parts of him responded to that touch.

“You don’t look well, nephew,” Salinse said. “Even apart from the leg. Have you been ill?”

“No.” Revik stepped sideways, putting more distance between them. “If we have some familial tie, you have a hell of a way of renewing acquaintanceship...”

He started to say it, then couldn’t bring himself to call the old seer ‘uncle,’ even though it was the correct form of address given his age and the fact that Revik was technically a guest in his home.

“...Salinse.”

The old Sark exuded mild distress. Letting out a purr that amounted to a sigh, he turned on his heel and walked back towards the fire pit.

Revik stayed where he was.

He noticed for the first time that the old man was barefoot. He watched as Salinse sank gracefully to one of the padded benches around the fire, then motioned for Revik to join him at a opposite bench. Hesitant, Revik stepped deeper into the room, conscious of the limp, of how slow he was moving.

He’d just passed out cold. Jesus.

Wiping sweat off his forehead, he scanned every corner, looked for more doors...not only in the walls, but in the floors and ceiling. He noticed a trapdoor in one wall and put himself between it and the old Sark. He contemplated a bench nearer to the trap door, then decided it didn’t matter. He couldn’t move fast enough anyway.

He sat stiffly across from the old seer and stretched out his leg.

Salinse smiled. His cultured voice grew almost kindly.

“I understand your caution...Revik, is it?” When he received no response, he went on as though he had. “...And I apologize for how you were brought here. I regret that I could not afford the usual courtesies, and that I was forced to rely on Wvercian...how you say...‘the muscle.’” He smiled, but the milky eyes remained still. “...There was no time. I heard about the attack on Seertown, and immediately suspected they might be after your mate.”

He paused at Revik’s flinch.

He added, “I hope you know...I do not myself have the same opinion of you as does Commander Wreg. While I am sympathetic to his passion, I understand very well the circumstances around which you left us.”

Revik tightened his hold on his light, feeling the Sark’s probe. The intensity and subtlety of the scan unnerved him.

It made him feel soft, out of practice.

Salinse’s eyes shimmered faintly.

“...You caused quite a stir, I hear,” he said. “Marrying the Bridge. Of course, I did not know who you were, when news of the happy event first reached me.”

He gestured delicately with one hand, crossing his ankles.

“...I had heard the name Dehgoies Revik, of course. You have a reputation even within your assumed identity. I knew the basics of your story, and your record as an infiltrator. But other than a fleeting thought that you might one day make an interesting recruitment opportunity, I had no reason to think about you beyond that.”

Revik didn’t speak. He found himself listening though, trying again to place the familiarity of the room, of the old Sark.

“An auspicious event,” Salinse said, smiling. “...The Bridge taking a mate. It could not help but be an occasion for gossip. And it is important who is chosen, certainly. I suppose they think she chose badly? Or that you forced her somehow?”

Revik felt his jaw harden. “Again. If this is a social call, I have to question your timing...and your tact, Salinse.”

The Sarhacienne inclined his head. “You are right of course. We must discuss business.”

Once again, he studied Revik’s face.

“This...Terian? He has a grudge against you that is personal, is that true? If grudge is really the word, with one so obviously insane...”

Revik made a ‘more or less’ gesture with one hand. “Yes. But that’s not the main reason he would have taken Allie.”

Salinse continued to study his eyes, as if lost there.

“Yes...of course,” he said then. He clicked softly, as though rousing himself back to the present. “Well, I suppose we cannot waste time.”

He turned that odd gaze back on Revik.

“What do you need? You are welcome to any amount of weaponry, of course...and air transport. We have intelligence we could share. But what do you think would be wise, in terms of numbers? You have dealt with him before. Is he likely to overreact?”

There was a silence.

Then Revik nodded, almost to himself. “I appreciate that,” he said, and meant it. “I think a moderate-sized group for the main assault, with an equal or larger force as backup. Maybe...” Out of habit, he asked for more than he thought he’d get. “...Forty?”

“Done.”

Revik blinked. “I’ll want to leave at once.”

“I assumed that, yes.”

Revik nodded again. “Fine. Do I need to agree to terms now...before we go, or can we settle that later?”

The old Sark smiled. “You do not wish to know what we want from you?”

“Not really, no,” Revik said. “Now that I’ve married the Bridge, everyone seems to want to recruit me for something. Whatever it is, it’s fine.”

He began to use his hands to push himself back to his feet, but Salinse signaled for him to remain where he was. It was the polite form of the gesture, but Revik felt the command behind it.

After a pause, he acceded reluctantly.

“You can do better than that, nephew,” Salinse said.

Revik felt his jaw harden. After another pause, he gestured assent.

“Fine,” he said. “...I’m assuming you still believe the Seven’s claim to leadership is ‘illegitimate’...ever since their treaty with the humans after the wars? So you want me to, what...swear off my allegiance to them and fight for your side? Provide intel, use my position as the Bridge’s mate to gain access to the Adhipan, recruit from their ranks...?”

His anger swelled, darkening when Allie’s face whispered past his sight. He let a pulse of light reach his eyes.

“...you’re probably thinking I married her to gain some kind of leverage, maybe even to get my penance revoked. You’d be wrong about that, but since I’m assuming that’s what most in the Seven think, I don’t hold it against you. If you think I’d turn on her, you’d be wrong about that, too. If you ever give me any reason to think you pose a threat to her in any way, I’ll kill you.”

He paused, then gestured in a conciliatory way.

“But I’m assuming you know that already,” he said. “...Or you wouldn’t be using her to get to me, and vice versa. If you know me as well as you pretend, you also know I don’t much care what you want, as long as you give me a gun first and let me go after my wife. I’ll accept any terms, as long as they don’t harm her in any way. I can’t speak for her, but I’ll relay any message you have.”

The Sark’s narrow lips formed a near-smile.

“Ah. Yes...I see you are still a pragmatist. You want your wife back. This is you ‘playing along,’ yes? You don’t much care about anyone else...or even whether our intentions are ‘good’ or ‘bad’ in the wider scale of things...?”

Revik bit his tongue to keep back a retort. Finally he shrugged with one hand. “Fine. I am playing along. Is it important to you that I seem to care? Fine.”

He nodded, once, gesturing politely with a hand.

“Salinse,” he said. “...what is it that you would like me to do to fulfill my end of the contract with you?”

“No, no,” Salinse shook his head, clicking softly. “...I would not dream of playing such games with you. And perhaps you are right, this is not the time for us to have this discussion. But it pains me to see you so willing to hand your freedom away...whatever the ultimate purpose behind it. I wished only to appeal to your reason...and the ideals I knew us to share in your youth.”

Revik gave him an incredulous look.

“Yeah?” he said. “And what were those, exactly?”

“To ensure the safety of your people,” Salinse said. “To fight for a cause that is just...that would improve the plight of all the races.”

Revik didn’t answer at first. Folding his arms tighter, he sat up straighter, adjusting the position of his hurt leg.

“I thought I was clear...I don’t remember much of my early years.” Letting out a low snort in spite of himself, he looked at the old seer. “...And for whatever it’s worth, this ‘glorious ideals’ version you’re referencing is a new one on me. If I can believe what others have told me...including your own men...my youth consisted of a lot more drinking and fucking than selfless posturing.”

The old seer purred in the back of his throat, a sound of sympathy.

“Nephew,” he said. “I recognize that you are angry. I recognize also that you fear deeply for your mate. I am asking you to rise above the traumas of your youth, as well as any that have occurred since. There is more going on here than simply a rescue operation...the world has changed in very dark ways since those early years. Surely you see that.”

He leaned closer, clasping his long hands.

“This cannot go on...these back and forth squabbles among seers. The Displacement is coming. We can no longer afford to fight one another...over ideology, treaties with the humans, money, power, or whatever else. It is time to declare a truce among our different viewpoints. We have maintained the luxury of isolation for far too long.”

The Sark paused, watching Revik’s face.

“...We are reaching a critical point. You must see that, too.”

Revik returned the seer’s gaze, then shrugged.

“You want me to trust you, Salinse?” he said. “Then tell me...who am I to you? Really? Why not stop with the hints and allusions to my past and just tell me.”

There was a pause before the Sark leaned back on the bench.

“No, I do not think we should have that conversation now, Revik.” He sighed. “...For now, suffice it to say, I am one of those people from the past you do not remember. I think any detail beyond that should come after you return.” At Revik’s narrowed gaze, Salinse added, “I am not toying with you. I am trying to respect your professed wishes. If we begin that discussion, it will take time...time we do not currently have. You must rescue your mate. That has to take priority. We now have confirmation that Terian has taken her out of Asia.”

Revik stared at the old Sark’s face.

In the silence that followed, a swell of pain rose that made it difficult to remain still. He tried again to find her with his light. Again, he hit a wall. He needed solitude...and to be outside of the Rebels’ construct.

After a pause, he made a polite gesture of acknowledgement.

“Thank you. As I said, I would appreciate any help your people could give me. Anything at all. Including simply letting me leave.”

Salinse smiled. “I think we can help you a great deal more than that.”

“Do you know where he has her?”

Salinse gestured affirmative. “You are aware of the boy?”

Revik nodded. “Yes.”

“Good. This is very important, nephew.” The old Sark’s eyes grew very still. “Terian is not your problem...not anymore. He is not the one holding your wife. It is the boy. It is essential that you understand this.”

Revik didn’t speak, focusing his eyes on fire grate. After a pause, he nodded.

“Yeah, I gathered that.”

Salinse’s light flickered palely once more, skirting the edges of Revik’s body. When Revik looked up, the old Sark sighed.

“You do not understand,” he said. “Your experience with Terian has blinded you to the reality of what is occurring now. I do not blame you for this, but I ask you to hear me...to think about my words. The balance of power is shifting again. That which sits at the top will change once more...very soon.” His voice grew sharper.

“...Galaith had his faults. He was overly ambitious in many ways, and had no regard for the free will of our people. He was also far too committed to seeing his own vision fulfilled with the humans.”

He clicked then, softly, making a flowing movement with one hand.

“...and yet...and yet...he was quite effective at organizing both of our peoples. He minimized dissension, used treaties effectively. Most of all, he created order within the Barrier.” Salinse smiled faintly at Revik. “I understand we had you to thank for that, in part.”

Revik frowned, still looking at the fire.

Salinse gave a clicking kind of sigh. “Without Galaith, there is nothing but chaos as the Displacement arrives. Terian will only make that worse. He lacks Galaith’s strength...and his ability to inspire.”

Revik didn’t look over, but found himself thinking.

He nodded, shortly. “That is true.”

Salinse said, “We are on the same side again, Revik, although that may not be so clear to you now. Terian, by himself, would have imploded in time. He was only ever marginally a leader, even with his ties to the Dreng.” Shaking his head, he added softly. “...but if he finds a way to control the boy through your mate, everything changes.”

Salinse met his gaze, his eyes sharp as glass.

“You must kill the boy, Revik. My people can handle Terian.” His fingers pointed at Revik’s chest, “...That is my only contract with you. Kill the boy, and our debt is settled.”

Revik didn’t answer. He found himself turning over the seer’s words, looking for flaws...a trick of some kind. He could find none.

“Done,” he said. “We have a contract.” He gave the old seer a half-smile. “And you should have bargained more, Salinse...I would have done that for free.”

He struggled to his feet, straightening with an effort.

“One last thing,” he said, looking down at Salinse. “If it’s relevant.” At Salinse’s accommodating gesture, he said, “How do you know about the boy at all? Did you have people watching me before now? Or were you aware of what occurred in Sikkim?”

Salinse didn’t hesitate.

“I was contacted by Terian himself,” he said. “He came here, looking for materials on the first war...on Syrimne, more specifically. He wanted our help. He wanted it badly enough to come in person, and we were able to get enough imprints from his light to track him afterwards...”

“Why?” Revik said, genuinely puzzled.

Salinse smiled. “Well, apart from him having the only direct line to the Dreng, he was acting suspicious. Highly suspicious...and his questions were too pointed, too specific.”

“No,” Revik said, shaking his head. “Not why did you track him. Why did he come to you? The records are clear enough on Syrimne...Barrier and otherwise. That’s unlike him, to risk exposure.”

Salinse made a vague gesture with one hand.

“I do not know the answer to that, nephew...but he was very interested in the psychological profile of Syrimne. He wanted detailed, first-hand accounts of his motivations, fears, strengths, weaknesses...any likely triggers or instabilities.”

Revik felt his throat tighten. “What did you tell him?”

“Very little,” Salinse said. “He is not an ally...although he sought such a relationship with me. It was Galaith with whom we had, shall we say...an understanding.”

Revik felt his jaw clench.

“What did you tell him?” he said again.

Salinse sighed. “I will be blunt. He wanted to know about Elaerian mating habits. He wanted to know if finding him a female companion might calm him...or if there was some other method that might work better.”

Revik felt his face drain of blood.

He knew. Somehow he knew, even at that school at Sikkim...even before he saw the little monster lay a hand on her. The kid would head straight for Allie.

Terian was simply his errand boy.

Salinse blinked a pair of transparent lids, studying Revik’s face. As if coming to some sort of conclusion, he folded his hands.

“I am trying to help you, nephew. And to warn you. This boy, whoever he is...he seems to see himself as your wife’s true mate. As a result, he will view you as a direct threat.” The Sark paused. “...And Terian has no idea what he’s dealing with in this. The boy has been alone...for far, far too long. He will not be able to control himself. There are things you probably have not yet had an opportunity to discover about your wife.” Pausing again, he gentled his voice.

“...Elaerian are not Sarks, Revik. They bond with creatures differently than we do.”

Revik tried to hold onto logic, to think about this rationally, but he found himself remembering her light, what it had done to him...not just that first time, but every time after. It never stopped looking for the counterpoint in him, something he hadn’t been able to give her. Avoiding the pain that tried to rise, he forced his eyes back on the room, pulling himself out of the Barrier.

He gestured to the old seer that he understood.

“You said they’d left Asia,” Revik said. “Where are they?”

Salinse smiled wanly. “I suppose they thought it would be an unlikely place,” he said. “...And in a way, it is.” He met Revik’s gaze with those clouded eyes. “They are en route to the mainland of the United States. We haven’t pinpointed a final destination yet...but we’re working on it. It makes sense that he would take her where he felt best able to protect her...”

Revik nodded, backing towards the door.

“Can we be out of here by the end of the day?” he said. “I’d rather do any tactical planning en route...”

He was already calculating times in his head. Twenty hours, minimum, to most parts of the United States from here. Possibly more, depending on what they had by way of transport, how long it took them to gear up, to reach whatever served as an airstrip in this part of…wherever he was.

Salinse gestured affirmative. “Of course. Wreg will assist you.”

Seeing Revik’s hard look, Salinse clicked softly.

“He understands the importance of this mission...and he is loyal to the Bridge.”

“I’m in charge,” Revik said. “That’s non-negotiable, Salinse. They do what I say, or I go alone.”

Salinse smiled faintly, then bowed to him, using the formal version.

“You are in charge. Of course, nephew.”

His smile grew more subtle, containing a flavor of something Revik didn’t much like.

“...As it is all entirely as it should be,” the old Sark quoted, softer.

REVIK LEFT THE elevator and walked out to the main floor at once. Tightening his shields around him a little, he looked around the hangar-like space.

He felt conspicuous suddenly, but he didn’t have time to be shy. He reached out with his light, found Wreg almost at once. Clicking out, he sought him with his eyes, making out his uniformed outline among a group of similarly dressed seers.

Before he could shift the direction of his feet, someone clasped his arm.

He jerked violently, turning.

He’d been half-ready to fight. Instead he found himself staring into a pair of hazel eyes he’d never expected to see again, at least not with life in them.

“Revik? Revik! Jesus...what are you doing here?”

The human’s voice was full of relief.

“Damn, it’s good to see you! But what happened to your leg, man?”

Revik gazed blankly into the face of Jon.

Something about being face to face with the human, the adopted brother of his wife, threw him completely out of his calm, out of any semblance of linear thought. Without fully acknowledging it to himself, he had assumed Jon and Cass were dead, or at the very least, captured by the Americans.

But it was more than that. The human’s open face and light, his obvious happiness to see him, hit like a blow to the face.

Jon released his arm.

He looked up at him, his smile faltering. His eyes took in how Revik looked, the expression on his face.

“Revik, man...what’s going on?” Jon said. “Where’s Allie? Is she here?”

“No,” he said.

Revik cleared his throat, but found it difficult to speak. He was still trying to pull words together, when two other people converged on him from the other side, throwing off his equilibrium even further.

“Revik!” Cass bounded up, her arms wide. She looked different...almost like she had before the events of the past year, even with the scar on her face. She looked almost happy.

“Revik! You’re here! Thank gods!”

Before he could move out of the way, she threw her arms around him, crushing him in a hug. He just stood there, unmoving. Without meaning to, he met the gaze of the man walking up from behind her. Balidor gave him a smile as well, but it stood out on a more emotionally complex face.

His eyes full, he patted Revik’s shoulder affectionately as Cass let him go.

“It is good to see you, brother,” he said. His voice sounded like he meant it.

Revik thought a question, but never got it out.

Balidor answered him anyway.

“There isn’t much left of us,” was all he said.

Revik looked around the giant hangar, as if seeing it for the first time. He realized that over half of it appeared to be full of what were probably refugees from Seertown. Camped out on the floor with blankets and bedding next to piles of scattered belongings, rugs and food, cooking utensils and even domestic animals, they appeared to be crammed together like rodents underground.

“This can’t be everyone,” he said.

Balidor made an affirmative gesture. “It’s not,” he said. “Many went to Delhi...and deeper into the mountains. This is only one place.”

Revik looked at him. “The Adhipan?”

“Assisting refugees. I sent most of them back to the Pamir. For now.” He hesitated. “...with Vash. Tarsi too. Several of the older monks.”

Revik nodded wordlessly. He understood the Adhipan’s charge.

Jon’s voice brought his eyes back.

“Where’s Allie?” Jon said, sharper. He was staring hard at Revik when he turned. “Revik? Where is she? Why isn’t she with you?”

Cass looked at Jon, then up at Revik, releasing his sleeves where she’d still been holding onto his arms. She did what Jon had done then, seeming to take Revik in with new eyes. Her focus landed on the cast, the angle in which he stood, then returned to his face, the expression he wore.

She touched his arm again, but gentler.

“Revik?” she said. “Are you all right?”

Balidor was staring at him too. From the look on his face, Revik thought he might be reading him.

He didn’t care. He didn’t want to have this conversation.

It was one thing to speak tactically about what had happened to Allie, with someone like Salinse. He couldn’t deal with the emotional reactions of her friends, or the look that would come to Cass and Jon’s faces when he told them who had her. After what happened the year before, he couldn’t predict how they might react...and he couldn’t help them with it.

“You should stay here,” he said, after too long a pause. He looked at Balidor. “You’ll stay? Keep things together here?”

From the look on Balidor’s face, he had read him after all. Something behind his eyes had dimmed, despite his infiltrator’s mask.

“Of course, brother. I am at your disposal. You do not want me with you?”

Revik thought about it for a long pause, then shook his head, glancing at the refugees huddled against one half of the hangar.

“Not for this,” he said. “I could use you, but...no. I thank you for the offer.”

“Any of my people? There are ten here, in total.”

“Salinse has offered me numbers.”

Balidor hesitated, then made a short gesture that he understood.

Jon and Cass exchanged looks. Wide-eyed, the two of them looked to Balidor when Revik wouldn’t return their gaze. Jon seemed to catch on first, which didn’t surprise Revik. He’d seen a lot about Allie’s two closest friends, collared or not, while all three were captives of Terian. Despite being human, Jon had near-seer abilities at times. In fact, Revik had wondered more than once if Allie had structured his light, knowingly or not, as they grew up together.

But thinking about her brought another hard pulse of pain, enough that Balidor flinched, then gripped his arm.

“Brother,” he said softly. “Where is she?”

He gestured vaguely. “States,” he said, his voice thick.

He glanced sideways, seeing Chandre approach from behind Jon. He focused on her deliberately, fighting to regain his composure. It was easier facing her fierce eyes, the infiltrator’s mask she wore like a skin. When he looked back at the others, he immediately wished he hadn’t. Jon looked like someone had punched him in the face. When Revik didn’t say anything more, the human blurted,

“I’m coming with you.”

Chandre’s voice rose. “So am I.”

Revik turned, looking at Chandre. Balidor must have told her. He was about to tell them no, that they damned well were not coming with him, when Cass spoke up from his other side, drawing his eyes.

“We’ll stay here,” she said.

She looped her arm through Balidor’s companionably, clutching his sleeve. The Adhipan leader looked faintly surprised, but didn’t step away, or try to disentangle himself from Cass’ hold. Her expression had focus, and her eyes held less of that devastated look that he saw in Jon’s.

She said, “I have a job for big Adhipan man here. We’ll help you from here, Revik. Just get Allie back.”

Revik looked around at all of them, but could barely see them anymore. He couldn’t feel anything as he looked at them, couldn’t comprehend what he saw on their faces. He could feel his light closing to theirs, but didn’t care anymore.

He only wanted them away from him...out of his way.

“Fine,” he said.

Without another word, he walked.

He moved through and past them, heading in the direction he’d last seen Wreg. As he made his way down the middle of a corridor between rows of fighter planes, he tried to pull his mind back on track, to get out of the spiral that started as soon as he laid eyes on the four of them.

Limping, he focused again on his leg, then on the rest of it.

He now knew where Terian had taken her. They’d gotten word right as he was taking his leave of Salinse. Getting inside wouldn’t be easy. Getting inside in a way that Terian wouldn’t anticipate would be even harder. Terian would be waiting for him; he’d made that much clear.

Revik approached Wreg. He waited for the older seer to look up, then cleared his throat, measuring the opaque eyes.

“Salinse spoke to you?” he said.

Wreg gestured affirmative, bowing with one hand.

Neither motion appeared to be sarcastic, nor did he display any lingering anger. Instead he appeared ready, listening and respectful. It was as if that morning had never happened.

One thing about this group, Revik thought wryly—they respected the chain of command.

Truthfully, he had missed that a little.

“You now have full access to the construct, sir,” Wreg said, again with no trace of disrespect, or even undue coldness. “I took the liberty of beginning preliminary equipment assemble and tactical planning for entry into US airspace. I gather from Father Salinse that you want to leave quickly, so did not wish to wait until you were able to free yourself to ask for what is obvious...”

Revik nodded. “I appreciate that.” He let the other feel that he meant it. “Have you selected the team?” he said.

Wreg gestured affirmative. “Only first cut, of course.” He motioned towards the uniformed group milling across from the refugee area. “They’re awaiting your inspection. We have about eighty infiltrators in total, so you have some latitude to choose who you wish...”

“Eighty?” Revik was mildly thrown by this. “That many?”

Wreg gestured affirmative.

He added, “Backgrounds, sight ranks, specialized skills all live in the secure side of the construct. I’ll await the final list from you before conducting the preliminary briefings...”

“What do I need in the way of keys, for relevant intel?”

Wreg flashed a set of symbols at him in the space. They were complex, multi-dimensional enough that Revik found himself giving a short nod of approval.

“Thanks.”

He was about to plug into them, when he felt a soft ping from his other side. He turned, meeting Balidor’s gray eyes.

They had followed him. Great.

Balidor’s eyes met his, holding a warning almost on the surface.

Careful, brother, he sent, barely a whisper.

Balidor’s mind nudged his, indicating towards the light of the construct.

Revik followed with his mind’s eye where the Adhipan leader indicated.

For what felt like a long pause…he hesitated.

He scanned the silver strands writhing there, wound into the structure of the construct itself. Existing within a construct—as Revik was now, simply by being in Salinse’s stronghold—wasn’t the same as using a construct. To access the locked portions and manipulate the layered light as a tool, he would need to open himself, to resonate with the overall design.

He would need to become one with it, in a sense.

Scanning the properties of the silver strands making up the construct’s meta-structure, he understood exactly what Balidor’s warning meant.

The light of the Dreng lived here.

It flowed thick inside the construct, as it had in Salinse’s light; almost as thick as what he remembered from the Pyramid. Whatever Salinse’s claims that Terian carried the only direct line to the Dreng following the Pyramid’s collapse, he hadn’t been fully honest. Their power lived here, too. It came through with a slightly different flavor. It was more subtle, too, as though their light reached the construct through a broader filter. But then, the Pyramid had broadcasted its light into the Barrier like a billboard to anyone with sight.

The fingerprints remained irrefutable.

Staring up at that light, he found himself seeing Allie standing before him in the dirt yard. Terian’s hand clenched on her throat as she balanced on her toes. She’d been naked, covered in bruises, many of them from him. She’d yelled at him, even with Terian holding her collar...telling him not to worry about her.

Seeing her there, so close to him, so real despite the distance between them, broke everything down on top of him.

His heart hurt, more than anything in him had hurt in his life.

He’d told Terian once, he’d turn if he had to.

Somewhere in that instant’s hesitation, he realized his mind had been made up before he’d really contemplated the question.

“Brother Revik!” Balidor said aloud.

Revik didn’t turn, but his jaw hardened.

Brushing the Adhipan leader out of his light, he took the keys Wreg offered him, angry now. Without looking at any of them, he let the silver strands resonate with his aleimi, ignoring the alarm he felt off Balidor...and the tremor that ran through him at how easily that particular frequency still sat in parts of his own structure.

Within seconds, he found himself flexing their weight, reacquainting himself with the added structure, with the multiplication of his light against that of whatever held the reigns at the other end.

For an instant, he stood perfectly still, gazing down from a vantage he hadn’t glimpsed in about forty years.

It was like he was meant to be there.

It was like coming home.