Allie's War Season One (143 page)

“Why do I always get the funny version of you?” I said.

The amber eyes swiveled in my direction.

“I’m quite serious,” he said, and sounded it. “It normally takes at least a decade of intense training for a manipulator to manifest the level of telekinetic ability you have done with absolutely none. I’ve studied your aleimic structures, and I see no evidence of training of any kind. I looked for markers that Revi’ may have tried to structure your aleimi prior to awakening you...he did not. I have seen nothing between the two of you, in fact, but the structure you created from taking him as a mate. There is no evidence he has trained you at all...”

“He trained me a little,” I said. “On the ship.”

Terian waved this off, dismissive.

“Training, despite your rather charming view of it being a sort of weekend seminar affair, perhaps with pie charts and snacks at break-time...is a rather intensive ordeal. By training, I mean continuous work to activate your aleimic structures. You have done little to none of that for even regular sight skills...much less what I am talking about. You are a complete virgin in this...”

“Virgin,” I muttered. Jerking my mind back from where it wanted to go, I folded my arms. “...So what? People are born with abilities.”

“Not this ability, Alyson.”

“I can’t control it,” I said. “So again...who cares?”

Smiling faintly, he shrugged, and it was a human shrug. “You are incurious. You are entitled. Still...I would love to hear Revi’s theories on this peculiarity of yours. I’m sure they’re quite fascinating.”

“What makes you think he has any?”

“Oh,” Terian chuckled, patting my knee once more. “I’m quite sure he does.”

I found myself thinking about this, in spite of myself. He was right, of course. If it was as strange as all that, Revik would certainly have some kind of theory. I was almost a little miffed he’d never brought it up.

All I said was, “I’m past-life girl, right? Maybe I just remember how I did it before...enough to do the basics, anyway?”

He rolled his eyes a little, clicking at me in mild disapproval.

“You don’t believe that. Besides, even if you did believe it...which you
don’t
...it wouldn’t matter. Syrimne was also an intermediary being. He required training. Intensive training, according to those crazy religious-fanatic Sarks I spoke to in the mountains.” He smiled at me. “You know...the ones who actually
trained
him. I took the time to have a chat with a few after I ran across our boy. They said it took them decades, and that those years were not particularly gentle...”

I stared at him, unable to hide my surprise. “They’re still alive?”

The idea astounded me.

Yet, as soon as I thought about it at all, it made perfect sense. Seers lived a long time. Of course some of those same seers from the original rebellion would have survived. Vash was still alive, after all...so was Tarsi. A hundred years wasn’t even all that long, really, from a Sark’s perspective. Revik was considered “young” by the monks I spoke to, and he’d been around that long.

Why hadn’t the idea ever occurred to me before?

I didn’t doubt that Terian had talked to them, either. It made perfect sense that he would go there first after locating the boy.

From what I’d seen of Syrimne’s life, Terian’s claim was essentially accurate, too; it had been almost twenty years before Syrimne could do much of anything. Twenty years of nearly nonstop training, with every kind of coercion one could imagine.

Winking at me, Terian called to the boy in a sing-song voice.

“Nenzi, dear?” He waited for the dark head to turn. “Could you come here, please? I would like to show you something...”

I watched the boy approach, thinking again about what Terian had said, about Revik having a theory about me. Whatever his issues with Revik, Terian’s admiration of his ex-partner’s intelligence seemed sincere enough. He’d mentioned a few times now that he’d wished he could borrow Revik’s brain for one thing or another...or just ask his opinion. Vash had mentioned something similar to me in passing once, about how smart Revik was...smarter than most in the Seven knew.

He’d implied Revik played dumb, actually.

I’d known he was smart, of course. Anyone who talked to him for more than a few minutes could see perfectly well that he was intelligent...but I’d only gotten glimpses of that intelligence on the ship. There, he’d been lecturing me mostly, and often appeared bored.

I wondered now if I’d underestimated him, too.

The boy approached where we sat. I saw him look at the hand Terian had on my knee warily...just before Terian removed it.

The Scandinavian-looking seer rose to his feet.

Bending down, he plucked the glass baton off the floor. Hefting it in one hand, he showed it to the boy, letting Nenzi run his fingers over the carved crystal along its sides. The object was about two and a half feet long and several inches thick in the middle, flaring to a larger bulb on one end. It looked vaguely familiar to me from the archeological stores under the mansion in Seertown.

The boy touched it tentatively, his eyes curious.

“It’s called an
urele,
Nenz,” Terian said. “It was designed for sight work...” He must have felt my eyes on it as well, because his tone shifted, growing lighter. “...although it could have its other uses, I suppose...” He glanced overtly at me, giving me a wink as he indicated towards the glass rod.

I fought back a facial expression, biting my tongue.

“This particular urele used to belong to our friend, Dehgoies,” Terian said, still smiling at me. “It won’t surprise you to know that I stole it from him...back when he declined my offer to rejoin our little organization.” Smiling, he looked back at the boy. “...Seers used them for exams in sight schools, Nenz. Back when such things still existed. They were a way of testing one’s control.”

I saw Nenzi’s eyes on me. A frown puckered his forehead, making a line out of his lips. He’d seen my anger at Terian...and heard the reference to Revik.

Shaking my head minutely, I rolled my eyes, nodding towards the Scandinavian.

Relieved, Nenzi grinned.

He still seemed to think the back and forth with me and Terian was playful banter...like a brother and sister who bickered.

Still, I found myself interested in what Terian was saying.

“...Back in those days, there was a real ranking system, not this bastardized, human-approved version the World Court uses now,” he said. “In the original system, seers were twice ranked. They had their aleimic rank, based on their potential...meaning, what they were born with. Then they had their working rank, meaning what they’d been trained to actually use.” He smiled at the boy. “I imagine some of the old timers in the Pamir even know their original scores...”

I thought of Vash, and had no doubt he did know. Tarsi popped into my head as well.

“...I’d like to see if I can rank you this way, Nenz.” Seeing the boy’s look sharpen, he smiled. “...Just for fun. The urele reacts to aleimic light. It is a bit like playing a musical instrument. You’ll like it...promise.”

When Terian looked at me, I raised a skeptical eyebrow as well.

He smiled, hefting the urele to bounce it in his hand.

“But it’s virtual, right?” I said.

“No,” Terian said, looking at me. “The superficial elements of the room are...the birds, rocks, water, glass, texture of the walls and floor. You, me, the boy...we are not. Neither is the urele.”

“So where are we really, then?” I said.

Terian merely smiled.

“Well?” he said, turning to the boy. “How about we see what you can do?”

Nenzi made a short series of gestures with his hands.

Pausing only the slightest beat, Terian indicated affirmative with one hand.

“All right. Me first, then...”

I exhaled a low snort, but Terian only gave me the barest glance.

Grasping the thick end of the urele, he walked to the part of the floor beneath the highest arc of the glass sun dome. He flipped the wand over his hand expertly a few times; then, once he reached the center of the wide circle of floor, he tossed it sharply up into the air.

With Nenzi, I watched it rise.

About halfway to the high, domed ceiling, the baton started to glow. The wall windows of the sunroom faced virtual east, the glass a tinted dark, so the baton’s glow stood out even under the high dome. I squinted up at it, wishing again that I had access to my sight. The fact that I could see the light at all told me it wasn’t purely a Barrier toy...assuming Terian was telling the truth about the urele being real in the first place.

The glass wand reached the apex of the arc of Terian’s throw...and the warm glow transformed into a sharp burst of light.

I flinched back, as did Nenzi.

Our eyes didn’t leave the airborne wand. A multi-colored flame flooded the dimmed room, erupting from patterned, translucent glass.

I glanced at the Scandinavian seer.

This had to be some kind of virtual trick.

But when I saw his face, I wondered. Terian stared up, watching the urele. His amber-colored eyes showed a hint of concentration as he focused on the wand, until slowly...slowly...the light stabilized.

An elaborate design appeared on the floor in a wide circle.

Nenzi laughed aloud, clapping his hands in delight.

I watched the galaxy-like pattern morph.

The urele started to return slowly...too slowly...to virtual earth. It emitted sparks, colored curls of light. The painting below our feet bled with miniature solar flares. The image expanded as the urele fell; the colored light stretched towards opposite walls, covering my skin, the rocks, the clear waterfall. Staring at the patterns on my arm and hand, I realized the level of detail in the light image itself.

A tapestry of intricate threads, each a shade off from the one before...the design pulled compulsively at my eyes.

It occurred to me then, in a kind of shock, that I was seeing a visual representation of Terian’s light...a part of his aleimic body.

At that precise instant, Terian caught the urele easily in one hand.

The image winked out, leaving the room flat-seeming, two-dimensional.

Sparks continued to erupt off the wand in Terian’s hand.

Rising to my feet, I walked closer, in spite of myself.

He held the urele out, so both of us could see. Light slid liquidly from one end of the wand to the other, traveling through spiderweb cracks in the glass. His aleimi made colored patterns through hairline trails that hadn’t been apparent before his light infused it. I watched in a kind of wonder as the wand pulsed brighter and softer as Terian reflected parts of himself through it.

“Of course,” Terian murmured, glancing at me. “This isn’t my whole aleimic body. Still...I didn’t do too bad, did I?”

I shook my head, unthinking.

I wanted to touch it...then flinched again as an explosion of jeweled beads rained under the green-tinted glass, breaking apart before sliding back to a single pool of light, recombining into narrow threads. I couldn’t help it...I wanted to try it. Maybe it was the competitive side of me, or the artist in me, or maybe it just looked incredibly neat.

Terian must have seen something in my face.

He laughed, and it was the closest to a real laugh I’d ever heard on him.

“Sorry, my dear,” he said. “As much as I’d love to see what you can do, I value my skin a bit more than that, I’m afraid...”

Biting the inside of my cheek, I didn’t look up, still watching light flicker through the transparent wand. Nenzi watched it as well, equally mesmerized. Touching my arm, he looked up at the tall, broad-shouldered seer. He must have asked Terian a question.

“Some other day, perhaps,” he said. Another pause. “...Of course,” Terian said then, answering another question from the boy. “...The same way?”

The boy’s eyes blurred; he didn’t lift them from the urele.

“Well, you can leave it on the floor, sure,” Terian allowed. His voice was magnanimous; he was clearly enjoying the effect the urele was having on the two of us. “...Its design is simple, partly to accommodate seers at different levels. A normal Sark would be required to use several modalities in an exam...