Evan Burl and the Falling, Vol. 1-2

by Justin Blaney

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Evan

  Thursday

  6:33 am

  40 hours, 16 minutes until the falling

  I opened my eyes. Pearl's skin was clawed and scratched; her fingers sticky and red. Blood covered her chin and lips.

  My blood.

  A vision flashed through my mind. Her teeth clenched into my shoulder; her mouth tearing flesh from bone. We'd always been so scared of what lived outside the courtyard gates. We should have been more worried about what lived inside.

  My shirt weighed heavy on my shoulders. It, too, was soaked with blood.

  A crash behind me. I jumped to my feet, caught Ravenna by the shirt. My other hand formed a fist.

  Ravenna shielded her face. "S-s-sorry." I backed away. The noise came from a fallen rack of tools.

  That's right, little girl, a voice said. Don't upset the beast.

  My eyes drifted to Pearl. Ballard moved to lift her, but Pearl lurched. She pulled back into the shadow of a clanker, her gazed locked on me. A raw patch ran around Pearl's neck where the chain of the necklace lay.

  She didn't blink. "Take it back."

  Slowly she rose then lunged at me. Ballard grabbed her by the leg as she got her fingers around my wrist. Ballard ripped her away. She screamed. Spit flew from between her lips. He stuffed a rag in her mouth. Squirming and fighting, Pearl almost got away until all three Warts bound her feet and hands until she was no more than a rolled rug slung over Ballard's shoulder.

  Mazol jerked his head toward the door. Pearl screamed into the gag, wriggling and fighting. I made out a single word as Ballard carried her out of sight.

  "Murderer."

  Pearl—the affliktion had taken her mind. She confused me for someone else. Mazol. Yesler. The real killer.

  You gave her the skull.

  "I was trying to help her."

  You were trying to prove your innocence.

  "No—"

  I stopped. Everyone stared. They couldn't hear the monster—they thought I was talking to myself. They'd seen me use sapience. They'd seen me almost kill a ten-year-old girl.

  "There's no way you could have known," Henri whispered.

  "Known what?" I snapped.

  "That it was Pearl who attacked you." She put her hand on me. I pulled away.

  "What was that?" Henri said.

  I avoided her eyes.

  "What stopped Pearl from killing me?" she said.

  I stared at a clanker behind Henri.

  "That's why your fingers are bloody, isn't it? You've been using sapience."

  I needed more time to figure out what was happening. I couldn't be causing the affliktion. Unless, the rubrics...

  Pearl said, 'Take it back.'

  'Murderer.'

  Could the rubrics be causing the affliktion? No, Pearl started itching before I gave her the skull. I had to get that pendent from Pearl before Mazol discovered what it did. I moved to the door. Mazol stared at me. Yesler too. I expected anger, but their faces were stretched with terror.

  After all those beatings, all those years of abuse, their fear was priceless. Yet dread wasn't enough. I wanted them to hurt. To feel my pain. I smiled. Fear made me smile. No. Because I could hurt them, I smiled. Revenge lay before me. All I had to do was reach out and take it.

  And then I saw me as my father did. He was right about me. The heart of a nightmare beat inside me. I couldn't deny it any longer. I stepped back, pressed against a clanker. Still they stared at me.

  This is your chance. Crucify Mazol. Save yourself.

  I leaned over a rusted oil drum to support my sagging body. "I can't."

  Then do it for the others.

  I shook my head. Yet I watched my arm reach out toward Mazol. The monster was taking control. Images flashed through my mind.

  A whirlwind circled inside the Elusian. The toys, the books, the pictures, all the things I'd so carefully collected, exploded before my eyes. The hutch crumpled in on itself. Debris whipped through the room, circling around me. The fireplace erupted with blue flames.

  Nightmares or memories?

  I'd been resisting sapience, hadn't I?

  The blackouts. The waking up where I don't remember going. The forgotten hours. These were the moments when the shadow owned me.

  Mazol and Yesler were frozen in place. My fingers clenched into a fist. Mazol clutched his chest. He'd be screaming soon—

  Ballard burst through a door. The moment broke. I collapsed to the ground. He whispered in Mazol's ear. My uncle's mustache twitched, the kind of pleased tick I'd seen before. Some of the girls whispered to each other. Some stared. I couldn't leave them. I had to keep fighting. The images from the destroyed Elusian couldn't be real. It's not possible. No one can do those things. Not a sapient. Not a monster. Not me.

  Mazol aimed a kick at Ravenna. "What're you staring at? Get to work!" He turned to Yesler. "Get the gimp—" He glanced at me, cleared his throat. "Get Burl bandaged. The others will have to make up for him until he's healed up."

  Yesler didn't move.

  Henri whispered into my ear, "I was right about you."

  Mazol pushed Yesler at me. "What are you waiting for?"

  "In the closet," Henri said, "I believed in you."

  I shoved past Yesler, grabbed Mazol's arm. "What are you doing to the Roslings?"

  Mazol pulled away. "I don't answer to you."

  "Tell me the truth," Henri said. "Please."

  I watched Mazol. He'd seen the letter before I stole it. He knew I'd turn dangerous someday. It couldn't be a coincidence that the Roslings started dying the same week I became a sapient. Mazol was the murderer. He must have been planning it, waiting until my transformation. He wanted everyone to think I'm the killer.

  "Where's Pearl?" I demanded.

  "Where do you think?"

  "Tell me!"

  "She's gone the way of a two week Shade."

  The room spun. I grasped his shirt. "You killed her."

  "We all saw what happened," Mazol said.

  "I thought she was Yesler."

  Roxhill and Othella started crying.

  "Roslings don't just die," I said. "You did something to make her lose her mind."

  "Why would I kill her?" Mazol said. "We can't run the clankers without Roslings."

  Listen to your uncle.

  I felt Yesler pulling me toward the door. Mazol flashed me a pearly smile. I lunged at him. Yesler tightened his grip on my arm. I ripped away. My leg brace caught on a clanker. The splint shattered. I felt nothing.

  Sapience coursed through my blood. I lifted an oil drum above my head. Except, I wasn't touching it. The barrel floated. I stared up. How is this happening?

  "No," Mazol yelled, "Don't do it!"

  Something plunged into my neck.

  My head split with pain. Yesler stood beside me. A syringe fell from his hand, empty but for a few drops of liquid coal. I staggered sideways. The oil drum crashed to the platform, rolled over the side, dropped six floors to the base of the Caldroen.

  Someone whispered in my ear, "you're not who you think you are." The voice sounded like Henri's, but she stood twenty feet away.

  Little Saye appeared. But Little Saye was dead. Wasn't she? Could Mazol have faked it? She said something I couldn't understand. Mazol grinned. Their voices rang in my ears long after the world melted, fading until just one remained.

  You should have slaughtered him when you had the chance.

  I didn't realize—

  You better open your eyes.

  But this isn't a dream. I'm awake.

  Not all who dream are asleep.

  How do I end it?

  Slay the dream.

  And what will I find on the other side?

  That you're a monster.

  ...

  I am a monster.

  Vol. Two

  Whispers