Rojan Dizon 03 - Last to Rise

by Francis Knight

  I crouched down in front of him, glad for the distraction. After a minute or two, his eyes came back to here.

  “What did you see?” I asked.

  “Storad in Top of the World. Storad everywhere. Not as ghostly this time. I think… I think it’s becoming more true, or more possible?”

  I patted his arm, a pathetic attempt at making him not worry. I mean, we were screwed and it was obvious. Maybe Pasha had got the better deal – quick, probably fairly painless except what he’d used to fire up his juice. Namrat was going to be busy, already was, and many of those he ate would take longer. “Maybe. Anything else? How did they, er, do they get in? Did you see us?”

  He frowned, maybe trying to make sense of what he’d seen. “Through the gates, how else? And they cut their way up and… and… there was blood and something squealing… and…”

  “All right. It’s all right, it hasn’t happened.” Yet, I added to myself. “What else?”

  “They all rise.”

  “What?”

  “I don’t know. Someone says it, only I couldn’t see who, or what they meant. Just, they all rise. You’re not there, I don’t think. You’re… I don’t know. It seems stupid.” He risked a strange look at me. “I mean, you know, what with you hating the Goddess and everything.” The way he said it, it sounded like a bewildered accusation.

  “How about you tell me, and I’ll tell you if it sounds stupid?”

  “I don’t know exactly. But you were standing in a temple, looking up at the saints and martyrs. You weren’t praying but… you looked weird.”

  Well, I would if I was looking at saints and martyrs. I was probably thinking what a bunch of silly sods they were. I didn’t say that to Allit, because he looked worried enough as it was.

  “I wish I could do stuff like you, or like Pasha – like he did, I mean. Useful things. What use is this, when I can’t even say for sure it’s true, it will happen? It’s stupid.”

  “Hey, look at me.” I gave him a bit of a shake, just enough to make him listen past the frustration that was scrunching his face. “You can do magic. You know how many people can say that? Not many, not many at all. It may not seem useful now, but you’ll find other ways of using it, maybe find your Minor too. Or maybe this is your Minor and you’ll figure out what your Major is. But no matter what, I bet you there’s no other kid in this city who can do what you just did. And it does help.” I wasn’t even lying about that, because he’d given me an idea. “If we know, or are pretty sure, that a: they’re going to get in and b: they’re going to head for Top of the World, then there are things we can do. Not waste men trying to stop them, if we know they can’t. Not worry so much about the tunnels – they’d hardly collapse the city if they’re going to be in it. Evacuate between the gate and Top of the World, excepting the guards, those with means to defend themselves. Try to get some people out of the Mishan gate, maybe. If they’ll take us, which they may not. You did good, Allit. You did good. You keep trying, keep looking. Who knows, maybe you’ll be the person that saves the whole city.”

  Yeah, I know. Doesn’t really sound like me. But my brain seemed to have taken on a wedge of darkness and talking to Allit like that, seeing the worry fade, at least a bit, helped. Not much, but frankly right then I would have taken anything, anything at all to let a little light into my head. Besides, the boy had done good. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing, and he’d seen – he’d seen Pasha use the machine, and he’d been right about that, and listening to him had brought me back a bit of resolve. A bit of light and hope when all had been black and hopeless.

  I took him with me to the lab to talk to Perak and Malaki, wanting someone next to me when I couldn’t have Pasha, and between us we came up with something. I hesitate to call it a plan, because mostly it was guesswork and hoping, but it was something at least.

  There was a fair bit of arguing involved, mainly about me and whether Perak was going to allow me to use any magic. I shouldn’t, I knew that. The edges of my vision were dark and blurred, making everyone seem somehow twisted. Faces darkened, eyes shadowed, till I began to wonder who was friend and who was foe. The voice of the black kept up a constant sweet singing in my head, luring me, tempting me. I shouldn’t, but Pasha’s face haunted me. Triumphant, how could death be triumphant? But he’d done it, even when he knew he shouldn’t, that it could kill him. He’d done it for what he believed in, for what he loved, and so I had to too or I was betraying him, or so it felt.

  I didn’t say any of that, only argued that I was needed, that I could help, a lot. Perak wasn’t having any of it, and neither was Malaki. “No magic” was pretty much all Perak said, apart from “I need you here, Rojan. We’ve lost Pasha and, if nothing else, I need you because we still need Glow and you’re the one who needs to provide it, when you’re recovered anyway. We’re going to win this thing, and then I’ll need you more than ever.”

  I kind of wished I had Pasha’s magic, just for a while, so I could persuade Perak into letting me, but it was hopeless, especially when Malaki threatened to bring in some men to make damned sure I didn’t do anything, go anywhere. Talk about feeling useless, helpless.

  So I lost the argument, but I was used to that, I’m a past master at losing the argument, and we went on to what we actually were going to do. We went back and forward and got nowhere until Allit piped up with what he’d seen.

  “You’re sure?” Perak said.

  “I – well I’m sure I saw it. I don’t know how true it is, or will be.”

  Perak pinched his lips together, went to stare out of the window, and I went with him. We looked up at the fantastical spire of Top of the World, at Clouds looming over the city like a cancer. Perak had that look in his eyes, the one I’d learned early on usually meant trouble for someone, usually me. It was an unfocused stare coupled with a wistful smile, as though he was dreaming of other worlds, other ways to be. Other ways to blow shit up and get me in trouble.

  “Whatever it is you’re about to suggest,” I said, “the answer’s no.”

  “Hmm? Oh, well.” The smile hardened into something more determined. “How likely is it, what Allit sees, do you think?”

  “No idea. But he saw someone use the machine and that happened. He saw the Storad bring their machines over the mountain, and we know they’re on their way. He saw Dench getting hold of Jake. He says he’s seen one or two things that didn’t happen but… Pretty likely, I think.”

  “So do I. I can’t do it on my own, Rojan. All this, the Ministry, being Archdeacon, trying to change things. It’s not about who’s in charge. It’s the whole damned thing, and it’s too big for one man to change.”

  “First things first. If we can survive the Storad, then you can change things, make Ministry what it should be, Mahala what it should be.”

  Perak once told me I was wrong about him, that he’d changed and that what I called dreaming, he called thinking. I really should have paid attention. It would have helped, later.

  “‘They all rise,’” Perak said. “What do you think that means?”

  “I don’t know! Look, it doesn’t matter. The Storad are probably going to get in, and of course they’ll head to Top of the World. No shock there. The question is, what are we going to do about it? What can we do about it? Apart from bugger all, just die. It’s not appealing. Maybe we could make a human shield out of cardinals. It might not help, but I’d feel better.”

  The smile turned into a full-blown grin. “You always hated everything, didn’t you? I thought that was just you, that the way things turned out made you like that. Now I’m not so sure.”

  “Perak, will you tell me what plan you’ve got running through your head and how it will involve me falling from a great height into the shit? Because it will. It always does.”

  “Maybe not this time. I’ll – I’m not sure, not totally, yet. Not on my end. Top of the World is my domain, where I belong, so you leave that to me. I’ve got a plan for that, and it will work, no m
atter what I have to do to make it happen. I’ll make it damned well work. You, I think, have to concentrate on the ‘They all rise’ part. Trust me on the rest – if all else fails, I’ve a plan for Top of the World, especially if I can get around the cardinals.”

  The thought of Perak having a plan didn’t fill me with confidence, but I kept quiet on it.

  He rifled in the pockets of his robe and pulled out a slip of paper, scribbled something on it, gave it the official archdeacon seal and handed it to me. “Think about it, what ‘They all rise’ might mean, how we can use it. In the meantime, Lise needs some help, and perhaps you can give it. Use this if you need anything. Anything at all. And please. No magic. Not yet. Dendal was quite firm about it, and I’m not about to lose you too.”

  With that he went to go and confer with Malaki, and left me more confused than ever. I was never sure, from moment to moment, whether my brother was just a dreamer dreaming ideas too big and too explosive to ever work, or worked way too well, or whether he was so intelligent it scared me. Perhaps both – there’s more than one type of smart and it’s not always sensible.

  Instead of dwelling on whatever crackpot idea Perak had come up with, under the watchful gaze of two Specials who looked like breaking any limbs they happened to find wouldn’t bother them one little bit, I went to help Lise like a good helpless brother.

  I found her at her desk, scribbling furiously on a notepad, little squiggles and symbols that meant less than nothing to me. She’d stuck the plans for the damned machine back together with tape, making them look more demented and incomprehensible than ever. Every now and again she’d glance up at the picture on her desk, of Dwarf, her mentor and perhaps more. I hadn’t liked to ask, especially after he died.

  “It’ll work,” she muttered when she noticed me. “He shouldn’t have used it, not yet – why did he?”

  “Because he didn’t see any other way,” I said. Because I wouldn’t let him use any other way, I thought.

  “I can make it work, I’m sure. Safe too.”

  “Wouldn’t it be better to work on the —”

  She glared up at me, the family donkey line firmly in place between her eyes. I was going to lose this argument as well.

  “If I can get this to work, we’ll be safe, all of us. If I can’t, it doesn’t matter how many guns the factory puts out, how much steel we can find. Guns won’t win this.”

  And I couldn’t help with that, or understand half of what she was actually doing. I felt like one of her spare parts. Funny, I used to loathe my magic, afraid of it, not wanting to hurt myself, or get addicted to it like Dendal was. Well, I still thought hurting myself was a damnfool way to cast a spell, but now… I couldn’t use it, Perak was right. Not if I wanted to live, stay sane. A mage needs to be well fed, well rested, to get the most out of himself, the most out of his pain, and I was far from both of those things. I didn’t fancy dying much, so, Perak’s orders or not, magic was out of the question for now, and hell did I miss it.

  Up there, in the pain room on the cusp of Trade, I was nothing more now than a hindrance, someone to get in Lise’s way or distract Perak from whatever scheme he had in mind. Worse, I had no Pasha. No one to call a little git, no one to rant at me and be my conscience. No more monkey grins, no passionate talk of the Goddess, no turning lion just when it was most awkward or calling me a prick when I needed to hear it.

  I had no business being Over because I was Under through and through. I was useless, hopeless, helpless. So I did what anyone might do and went home.

  Chapter Twenty

  I hesitated at the door to the office. Something didn’t feel right and I cursed under my breath. Comes to something when a man goes home to find it isn’t what it was when he left.

  The office seethed with people – youngsters, magelets. They were perched on Pasha’s desk, on the lumpy old sofa, on whatever floorspace they could find. One was even sat astride Griswald, who looked bizarrely pleased, or as pleased as a century-old stuffed tiger can look.

  I was about to vent my entire spleen and ask what the hell everyone though they were doing when I caught sight of Halina and Dendal in a cleared space in the centre of the room. Dendal’s candles guttered in the breeze of more people breathing than our office had seen, well, maybe ever. The magelets were rapt, watching with avid eyes as Halina cracked a finger out of its socket.

  I’d never seen Dendal quite so with it, or not for so long a time, not for more than five minutes or so. Then again, magic and its uses in the service of the Goddess always got him focused.

  “All right, see how Halina concentrates, pulls that pain in. You feel it come up your arm like a warmth, a knowledge. Yes?”

  Most of the kids nodded, though one or two looked dubious.

  “Then you have to show it what to do, lead it along your path, whatever your path is. It will want to go somewhere else, almost always, but you are the master. Remember that. You master it, not the other way around.” Ah yes, the start of Dendal’s famous “mastery” speech. Soon he’d start banging on about control and I’d start to nod off. Or I would if there was any space to sit.

  “Halina?” Dendal murmured.

  She favoured us all with an arch and superior smile, half closed her eyes and concentrated. Nothing much happened for a moment, and then a boy gasped as Griswald lifted into the air and twirled slowly round, as though showing off his new boy-coat.

  Halina let Griswald down to the floor gently, and Dendal caught my eye before he carried on.

  “You all know by now what happened to Pasha. And the warning there is twofold. That is what happens if you can’t control your magic, when it masters you rather than the other way around. And also,” he held me with eyes clearer than I’d ever seen, “also sometimes it is what you have to do. No matter what the priests say now, they once held that the Goddess made us this way for a purpose. I believe that, with all I have. You have a purpose, and so does your magic, but it’s up to you to decide what that purpose is. For Pasha, it was to save Jake and others like her, perhaps to show us the way. It always was his purpose, and he was clear in his mind about what he was prepared to do for her, for them, us, and he did it. Now, Mahala is going to need us, and soon. She’s going to need everything you can give it, everything you can give to the people who, whether they like it or not, know it or not, will be relying on us, on the guards, on Lise and whatever genius she can perform. So I need you all to work with me, with Halina and Rojan here to do your best to learn some control. And I need you to think on your purpose, for the Goddess.”

  At the mention of my name, they turned to look at me, and I couldn’t bear it. All young kids, all half starved, half scared to death with not just the siege, the threat of the Storad, but with half-formed magical urges. And with hope. That was the worst. They looked at me like I was giving them hope.

  Cabe was there, the boy who’d cut his hand in the Slump, and his look was the worst. “They all rise,” Allit had said, and hadn’t known what he meant. What Perak had told me to concentrate on, because I was damn-all use for anything else right now. Was this it? These kids, were they going to rise? It didn’t seem possible, and even if it was, I wasn’t going to be the one at their head.

  It was the oddest thing: until a few months before I’d been untroubled by family or friends, except for Dendal, who barely counted as he was away in his head so often. I’d liked it that way too – no one to worry over, or to worry over me. No one to be responsible for, or care about and then see them die, like Ma. Only now I had family, I had friends. Pasha had been right – they were my way back into the world rather than being apart from it. I had these kids, who were almost like a second family because I saw myself in them at every turn, wanted to make sure they didn’t make my mistakes. My family, and a weight on my heart, on a conscience that wanted so very badly to be feckless and free. And still I couldn’t do that to them, not to these kids who were just trying to figure out what they could do, how they fitted in. Boys like I once was,
full of fear. I was still full of fear. I think I always will be.

  Cabe said something to me, I don’t know what. I couldn’t listen. I didn’t care if Allit had seen them rising, had seen them going up to take on the Storad at Top of the World. I didn’t care what he’d seen, because I wasn’t going to let it happen. Not to these kids, my kids.

  If it wasn’t going to be them, it had to be something else, something I hadn’t thought of, someone I hadn’t thought of, and it had to be me doing the thinking because Pasha was gone and Perak had his hands full.

  It was down to me.

  The thought crushed the breath from my chest like a tombstone had landed on it. If it was down to me, we were screwed and I couldn’t look at that damned hope any more.

  I made for the door, ran into Cabe’s father, Quillan, pushed past him and out.

  It was down to me.

  There had to be something I wasn’t thinking of, someone. There had to be a different way. Goddess’s tits, I would have given over a fair part of my anatomy to have Pasha back, just there, showing me how to be the good guy. I had a funny feeling I was going to make a right cock-up of it on my own. I usually did.

  The cold air outside slapped a bit of sense into me, but not much. Snow drifted down in little clumps through the mesh of walkways, a dollop here, a cluster there, a blob to wriggle its chill way down my back. It dusted the walkways so that they looked like icing on a fancy cake.

  There had to be something. All I had to do was think of it.

  Someone came out after me and I whipped round, ready to snap them in two with words, but I came up short when Halina looked at me with half-closed, appraising eyes.

  “Running out on them already?” she asked, as though she already knew the answer. “Why am I not surprised?”

  “No!” I shut my eyes for a heartbeat, because actually, yes. Until then, until she asked me so baldly. “No. Did Dendal tell you Perak thinks these kids are the answer, the only answer he’s got? That we can use their magic, send them down to the gates, only he doesn’t know what it’s like, how most of them probably haven’t a clue what their Major is yet, and would probably kill themselves if they tried anything. Only there has to be something – Allit saw, or rather heard. ‘They all rise.’ What does that even mean? Perak thought maybe mages, but it’s not, it can’t be. Or not these mages anyway. And the Storad are almost through, and if we don’t figure it out now it’ll be too damned late and Pasha will have died for nothing. All that sacrifice, all that hurt, wasted, and I can’t let that happen. I have to do something, only I can’t use my magic unless I want to make another Slump, and what good am I at anything without it? I’m a fair bounty hunter and a world-class flirt. That’s about it.”