Rojan Dizon 03 - Last to Rise

by Francis Knight

  The smallest, little Casuco, smiled shyly at me and, with a crack and a hiss, opened his palm to proffer me a sweet conjured out of nothing but his pain. I took it – it tasted even better than it looked – and then Casuco slid his hand into mine. It struck me with a finality that almost robbed me of breath that I was going to have to do something, anything, and when I did it, it was going to be for these little magelets, who were showing more gumption than I’d managed in a couple of decades. They’re your way back in, Pasha’s remembered voice said in my head. I shook it away, because I couldn’t bear that it was only a memory.

  Along with the diversity in weapons, refugees from the ’Pit mixed with men who’d lived in Under all their lives, gang members walked with priests and housewives, bouncers and businesswomen. Everything else was forgotten in the face of Outsiders, because this was their patch now, their city, and they were scared and pissed off. No one cared which way the other praised the Goddess, or how pale their skin was, what their accent was, because we were all the same.

  Erlat came too, along with some of her friends and co-workers. I thought about protesting, but recalled the last time I’d tried, and kept my mouth firmly shut. Instead, I’d asked Erlat if she was any good with that gun. She’d answered by planting a bullet in the wall’s plaster about an inch from my face, so I’d taken that as a yes and said no more about it. “Never argue with a woman with a loaded gun” is a nice maxim to live by, if you like to live.

  Allit kept up a muted commentary about what was possibly ahead as he walked next to me – we tried to hide what he was doing, but after a few sideways glances no one took any notice. It was a liberating feeling, people not side-eyeing us because we were mages, and one I could only hope lasted after this. If we lasted after this.

  Heights passed by in a haze of snow and slush and empty houses, discarded shops. They’d had money here, were probably even now trying to buy a way through the Mishan gate. Some of the Glow globes that lit the way were beginning to fade – since I’d screwed myself over, only Pasha had enough juice to fire up the pain room and power the Glow. One mage hadn’t been nearly enough, and most of what he’d put out had gone to the factories that lay silent under us now. We had some Glow, but no more was being made. We had no raw materials left either, which, for a city that relied on trade, was almost as bad as the lack of food.

  Without anyone saying anything, we slowed as we left Heights. The vast mushroom-shaped estates of Clouds seemed to press down on us, or maybe that was just me. We met with a few straggling Storad, looting and looking for anyone left. They didn’t last long.

  When the first sounds of fighting echoed down from above, a signal from Quillan stopped us all.

  “You’re sure about this?” he said to me.

  “No, but do we have a choice?”

  “There’s always a choice.”

  “Fine, so we all run away and die of starvation. Or wait to get chopped to bits.”

  I felt pretty bad lying to him, to all of them, especially Erlat and Guinto and Dendal, who walked with them, humming his happy song. Pretty bad because I wasn’t sure in the slightest.

  But the very simple plan I’d put forward might even work. If it did, then I wouldn’t have to worry about the other one, the one that the black kept on nagging me about, the ultimate one that was feeling more and more the right – and wrong – thing to do. Pasha had shown me the way. It was up to me if I followed. The very simple plan – get in, get Jake and Perak out, blow the shit out of the Storad up there, try not to die – might even work. At least we wouldn’t be fighting on two fronts then. If it did work…

  The low cloud helped – it surrounded the Spine here, leaving me feeling like I was encased in a damp pillow, but it also meant that visibility was limited. At least for those using their eyes.

  I took hold of Dendal gently and steered him and Allit into a not-very-private-at-all nook by a pillar which announced these were the gates to Cardinal So-and-so’s estates and trespassers would be thrown into the Slump with extreme prejudice, may the Goddess bless them.

  Who needs eyes when you’ve got a couple of mages handy?

  Between the two of them we got a pretty clear picture of what was going on, who was where, doing what. Allit could see, and it was probably real and now. Dendal could communicate, a perfect conduit for information when he was lucid. The pretty clear picture they gave me was it was all going tits up. Top of the World was almost empty and so was Clouds, near as they could tell. What was left of the guards were failing miserably against a vicious assault on the Spine just under Top of the World, and Perak and Jake were there with them. Typical Perak: never was with it enough to know when to get out of the rain.

  Dendal looked at me sadly, almost wistful. “So what are you going to do, Rojan?”

  After I’d got over the shock of him getting my name right twice in a row, and wondering why everyone kept asking me that, I said, “I’m not sure.”

  “Yes you are.” His voice was unusually firm, which meant I was about to get a lecture on the Goddess and my duty to serve her.

  I did my best to forestall him. “No, I’m not. There’re two options. One: head on up, find Perak, beat the living crap out of any Storad we find, get down to the gates before those machines arrive, and hope for the best. We’ve got plenty of people now, all willing to fight. Two: two won’t be necessary. Even if it is tempting.”

  His smile was awful, full of pity and sympathy. “You never did really understand, did you? You were saving yourself, your magic, for this, but not just this. It’s why the Goddess sent you to me.” Then he took Allit’s hand and walked off to stand with the rest of them, all the while telling everyone not to worry, Rojan’s going to sort it, he’s got a plan.

  Everyone was looking at me, like I had any answers. Little Casuco smiled again at me, seeming confident in my ability to get them all out of this, to fix everything, rearrange it all away perhaps. I wished I was as sure.

  They were all looking at me, and then they weren’t. A tremble at first, just a tremor under our feet. A rumble, far off, though not far enough. I looked out. Heights on one side; on the other, where I’d not dared to look because I was chicken, a fading drop that on a clear day would show the Slump, the lasting reminder of what happens when a mage pushes too far, when he goes fully crazy right before he dies. A tangle of girders, vast blocks of stone tumbled in odd patterns, huge splinters of wood rotting gently into mould. A dumping ground. A moving one.

  It didn’t register at first – let’s face it, at first all I was thinking was, Crap, the Spine’s going to collapse and I’m going to fall to a long and messy death, long enough that I will have time to scream quite a detailed lot of last words. Once the bollock-clenching panic passed, I realised it wasn’t the Spine that was crumbling, moving, sliding.

  A block of stone the size of a house teetered, thought about it, and then said “Screw it” and tumbled end over end, rolling down the battered slope of the Slump, pushing friends in front of it until there was what looked like a whole moving mountain. Smaller stones merely the size of men bounced around that first block like puppies taken for a walk, and girders twisted with a tortured screech, all the while reminding me that down was a long way away.

  When, after what seemed like about six months, everything stopped moving, the Slump had shifted downwards. Stones that had stayed where they were for years, since that ill-fated mage had gone boom, now looked like a breath would have them shifting and rolling again. I found that I was holding on to the nearby pillar with my bad hand, pain throbbing up and out, leaching into my head, itching at me, wanting to be used. Do it, do it, take the whole place down. Come on, Rojan, don’t be shy.

  Tempting, so very tempting. Only two things stopped me. Just two, but I’m not sure now whether the two I thought of were the real ones. Perak and Jake were up there, that’s what the small rational part of my brain said. You can’t do it with them up there. You can’t. You can’t do it at all. No matter how much pai
n you suck in, you’re not going to be able to take it all out, not all of it, and what about the Storad at the gates? The machines even now inching their way over the mountains? Think, for once in your life. Plan.

  Whatever we were going to do, it had to be now, before the whole city fell apart and buried us, leaving the remaining Storad to do what the hell they wanted with what was left.

  In retrospect it was only the second worst moment of my life, but at the time it was as bad as I thought it could get. Dendal, Allit, Erlat, the rest, they were all looking at me. Perak and Jake were above us, fighting for their lives, and option one – fight on up, take the bastards at their own game – just wasn’t going to cut it no matter how I tried to spin it. We had men willing to fight, sure, but not enough and poorly armed, and only trained in staying the hell alive. We’d be hard-pressed to win over the Storad that were in the city now, never mind the rest that were on their way, almost here.

  Instead we had option two, Plan B, the thing I had been trying not to contemplate because I couldn’t be sure I wasn’t going to do it out of personal satisfaction rather than because it needed doing. Because maybe I would, again, make everything worse, which has always been my signature move.

  Fucking Dendal and his fanciful notions of what the Goddess wanted from me. That thought of course meant I was going to do it, even if just to stop him looking at me like that.

  “All right, Dendal. Tell Perak to get everyone away from Top of the World. Retreat, look like they’re running away. Let the Storad in.”

  His smile was almost worth it. I say almost, because this was going to hurt like a bitch.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  It took a while, because Yagin and all the rest had been fired up for a fight and all that aggression had to go somewhere. Most of it was aimed at me. But Quillan and Guinto managed to calm them some, mainly by promising them that they’d still have plenty of Storad to batter the crap out of down by the gates, when they got there. The magelets helped more, all bright-eyed and full of hope, saying how they could help, showing Yagin what they could do and giving him a few nasty ideas that made him grin like a shark.

  My main problem was Jake.

  “What do you mean, she refuses to go?”

  The squeak of Dendal’s knuckle twisting in its socket as we huddled by the pillar accompanied Perak’s faint answer, sounding tinny when channelled through Dendal. I wasn’t too keen on the amount of gunfire coming through, either.

  “She just won’t,” he said. “She’s like a woman possessed, and there’s no arguing with her. Goddess knows how long we’d have lasted without her, but now she says she’ll cover our retreat but she’s staying.”

  Women and my love for them will be the death of me.

  “All right, I’ll think of something. Just hold on, as long as you can. If it comes to it, you leave, all right? Let the bastards have Top of the World – it’s not going to do them any good, not if I have anything to do with it. You just find somewhere safe and try to keep Jake out of it. Remind her she’s your bodyguard so she should be guarding your body or something.”

  I got him to promise, and then Dendal’s conduit snapped off and he shoved his knuckle back home.

  “Well?” asked Erlat.

  “Well…” I sucked it up, everything I was about to say, changed the habits of a lifetime and got serious. “You get this lot going. Down to the gates. Those machines will be here soon, and we’re going to need all the men we can get down there.” Just in case I can’t do what I’m planning.

  “But Top of the World? The Storad?”

  “Let me worry about that.”

  Erlat sat back, her lips pressed thin. “Jake. Always Jake. You’re going to swan in and rescue her, be her dashing hero – or try to be.” I’m fairly sure the snort was of the derisive kind.

  “And that’s wrong, is it? Trying to put right what I fucked up by letting Pasha get on that machine, which he did because I wouldn’t let him kill himself trying to rescue her? Stopping her killing herself, or at least letting herself be killed? That’s a bad thing, is it?”

  At about this point, several things that probably should have been obvious much, much earlier struck me – I am not the sharpest blade in the drawer, especially when my magic kept nagging at me to be used, when I hadn’t slept since who-knows-when and I couldn’t recall what real food, or indeed anything remotely edible, looked like. Erlat opened her mouth to say something else, but I got in first.

  “Erlat, enough. I’m going to make everything right, third time pays for all. Get to the lab, wait for me there. I need you to help me.” If I made it, that was, but there was no point saying that part. “Please.”

  She stood up, dusting her hands down her dress, adjusting where she’d hitched it up to make it easier to move, over the makeshift holders for the two guns she had.

  “If this is one of your damnfool ways of trying to protect little old me —”

  “It isn’t, I promise you that. I need you there to help me, because I can’t do it on my own. I think I know what I’ve got to do, but I need to see Perak and Jake safe first.”

  She looked at me awhile, speculating, but there wasn’t time for more arguing and she knew it. “Fine,” she said, and whirled off in a perfect display of high dudgeon.

  Quillan soon had the mob moving out and down. The gangs moved with an easy grace, loping down into Heights and taking to the walkways, swinging from one to the other as easily as I might walk one. Easier, because they didn’t seem to have any terror of heights. I did, and mine was telling me to not do what I was about to do, no, really, don’t.

  Quillan frowned my way. “So what is it you’re going to do?”

  I tried a smile but I got the feeling it came out pretty mangled, because Quillan flinched and took a step back.

  Yagin turned up his own grin – I think he’d seen something in me he recognised. “He’s going to go and put the screws on someone.”

  “Hopefully.”

  That seemed to satisfy him and he followed his men down, flipping on to a walkway with a cheery wave of a knife. Quillan lingered but there didn’t seem much I could say. In the end, he put a protective arm around Cabe and said, “You looked after my boy, and I’m grateful for that. And you don’t act Ministry.”

  “If I have my way, no one is going to act Ministry after this. If.”

  He grunted at that, and left finally with a thoughtful frown.

  At last it was just Dendal and me – he’d sent Allit and Lise and the magelets back down with the rest. Someone was going to regret the invention of that weapon, of that I could be quite sure.

  “I know what you need to do, and I know you can do it,” Dendal said. “I’ve always known that’s what the Goddess sent you to me for.”

  “Enough of the Goddess crap, all right? I’ve got enough to be going on with without her sticking her fucking nose in.”

  His glance was reproachful and made him look more monk-like than ever. It struck me that maybe he really was some kind of monk – he’d devoted his whole life to doing what he saw as her work. Sadly, that involved me.

  “Don’t say fuck,” he said. “It isn’t nice. And it doesn’t matter if you believe in her, it matters if she believes in you.”

  “Oh, fabulous, buggered whichever way, gee, thanks. Look, can we get on? Only Perak’s about to be overrun and there’s these big nasty machines Outside on their way to take pot-shots at him, not to mention us, and the Slump’s on the slide, hell, maybe the whole city might be about to fall down around our ears if they manage to crack another tunnel. If nothing else, I’d quite like to have a living brother at the end of this, if it’s all the same to you.”

  It’s really annoying when you vent your spleen like that and the person being vented at just pats your hand like you’re two and having a tantrum, but what could I say? I had to do it. When push comes to shove, sometimes it’s best to get a proper run up and say, Sod push, let’s fling that shit as hard as we can.

 
I settled down, not trusting my legs due to them having a tendency to give way at the important moment of a spell. I wanted to hope there wasn’t going to be any of my blood this time, but let’s face it, hope is for idiots and loonies.

  Once I called it, clenched my hand and felt the bones grate, felt the pain run up my arm, warm and red and oh so familiar, the juice came in less than half a heartbeat. The black laughed and clapped its hands. I knew you’d come to me in the end. You promised.

  I had, and I would, but I had to hold off long enough to do this first.

  Deal?

  Deal.

  The pain built, took over every thought, a thread of red in the black across my vision. Concentrate. Perak and Jake. Could find them both with my eyes closed and half a brain, usually. Hard now though. Very hard, because black was everywhere but I pushed and it came, the knowledge of exactly where they were. Five hundred yards up, forty yards to the east. Push, harder, because Jake’s got her back to a wall and four Storad in front of her and Perak’s trying to help but looks like he’s more frightened of the gun in his hand than he is of the Storad. Push, harder, harder, forget about no sleep and no food and being screwed, and that something just broke in the front of my head somewhere with a pop. Maybe my brain exploded – certainly felt like it, but no great loss to the community. Forget the warmth of blood flooding down my face, from eyes and nose, frothing in my mouth with a bitter tang.

  At last it came, the sweet rush of juice, up through the black, swelling through me like wine, or sex, or… actually there’s nothing better, not even sex, and this is me saying that. Nothing better than juice. Juice is everything, and the black will give me everything I need, I’ll be nothing but juice. When I let it, and that’s not just yet.