Along the Razor's Edge (The War Eternal Book 1)

by Rob J. Hayes

  Barrow Laney was a Photomancer. He entered the academy around the same time as Josef and I, and we both counted Barrow as a friend. He was always quick with a smile and knew jokes that could even make the tutors blush. There was an easy charm to Barrow, yet I have never known anyone so devoted to their studies. Perhaps it was because he was the only son of a merchant and had been expected to learn the business before the academy took him, so studying came easy to him. Or perhaps it was because he knew from the start that his particular attunements would eventually drive him insane, and he wanted to fight it. He was a master of Photomancy even at a young age, took to it like water to a sponge. Barrow could make you see things that weren't there. Illusions crafted by his imagination and brought into existence by his magic. He once handed me a bouquet of flowers so red they shone like blood. But they weren't real, and when I tried to take them my hand passed through the stems and the petals burst apart to become butterflies that flitted about my head and landed on my shoulders. I was only eight or nine at the time and I giggled as only a child can, truly and utterly lost in the joy.

  Of course, the tutors had a much more sinister use for Photomancy.

  The academy was there to teach Sourcerers, all schools of Sourcery. Well, most of them. Some schools were deemed too useless to bother learning, or too dangerous to teach. But the Orran Empire was at war, it needed Sourcerers trained for battle, and Lesray, Josef, and I were the newest batch of recruits. It wasn't enough that we knew how to use our magic to bring death and destruction to our enemies, we needed to be willing to use it. We needed to be able to see what we had done, what we were doing, and not balk. Not waver. We needed to be weapons. Orran's weapons. The Emperor's weapons.

  The three of us were separated from the others twice a week, taken aside. They started slow, I suppose. The academy Photomancers showed us things, wove the light into illusions. Perhaps they were things from the imagination, or perhaps the horrors they showed us were from memory. Bodies. Hundreds of them. Thousands. An ocean of blood, thick with corpses like islands. Scavengers picking at dead flesh. Crows ripping out eyeballs, dogs fighting over a leg torn free in a ragged, wet squelch. This was what they called starting off slowly, adjusting us to the things we would see. After all, it wouldn't do if they newest little soldiers broke down at the horror of their first battle. Bastards! They started off slowly, but it was only the beginning.

  Twice a week, every week, they took us three aside and showed us things, made us do things. All in the aim of desensitising us to the violence, to the pain, and to the death. All in the aim of removing us from the consequences of our actions. We were just the weapons, and a dagger does not feel guilt over the flesh it parts.

  Twice a week for ten years.

  All those times they told us Terrelans were animals, not people. All those times they told us Terrelans would murder and rape their way across our kingdom, slaughtering good, honest Orrans. When they told us we were heroes, bringing justice to the world by killing monsters. It was not our responsibility, that others would shoulder the burden of conscience. All those times they told us we were just weapons. We were arrows, the tutors and generals we would serve were the bows, and the Emperor was the archer. I believed them. I believed all the lies. I believed them because I wanted to. I wanted to stay in the academy, stay with Josef. I wanted to be useful, to the tutors, to the Emperor, to the Iron Legion. I believed the lies because I looked up to the tutors. I thought they had our interests at heart because we were children, and they were adults, and I trusted them. I believed them because I didn't know any better.

  I am the weapon. They drilled that into us over and over.

  See the horrors of war. It doesn't matter. The victims aren't people, Terrelans deserved to die. I am the weapon.

  Kill an ant. Its life was meaningless, nothing. I am the weapon.

  Kill a mouse. It was an animal, not really alive. Mindless and soulless. I am the weapon.

  The corpse of a man, peeled open, innards on display, the smell of death nauseating. It was only a Terrelan, as numerous and worthless as the mouse. I am the weapon.

  I am the weapon.

  I am the weapon.

  Twice a week, for ten years. A day of death, of pain, of punishment. A day of being forced to see and do things no child should endure. I don't know if I was ever truly innocent, but what little I might have had, they stripped from me.

  I found Yorin where he slept in a small, private cavern on the nineteenth floor. It took quite a bit of asking around, and a few incentives, but it was useful information to know. I had already considered sneaking up to him in his sleep and putting an end to the uneasy partnership. Unfortunately, I wasn't sure I could kill him quick enough to get out with my own life. That, and I needed him.

  Despite the danger of creeping up on a known murderer, I did it anyway. Crouching down in front of him, I wondered how easy it might be to kill a man while he slept. I had certainly been close to trying with Josef. Nobody wanted Yorin along, but we didn't have a choice. Unless we did. One swift rock to the head was all it would take. Put him out of all our miseries.

  I was still considering how easy it might have been to kill him when Yorin's eyes flicked open. He was quicker than I, muscles practised to instant motion. Yorin leapt up and his hand closed around my neck, bearing me down onto the ground. I didn't fight back. I doubt I could have squirmed free even if I had tried, and I had no weapon with which to defend myself, only the icy blue of my eyes and the knowledge that Yorin wanted freedom as much as I did. That, and I was his only chance of that freedom he desired. Without me, he would rot down in the Pit for the rest of his dwindling days.

  When his hand eased from around my neck I sucked in a deep breath and coughed, rubbing at the tender flesh he left there. You would think I would have learned my lesson about sneaking up on people long ago, but I still haven't. I think I like to see the shock and sudden fear in their eyes. At least these days I am better able to defend myself from retribution.

  "Are we ready?" Yorin asked, standing up and crossing his arms. I surged to my feet and stared up at him with a slight smile tugging at my lips. Yorin scared me. Hardt wasn't wrong in calling him a murderer. I knew full well there was little between me and a painful death. But I refused to show Yorin that fear. Another man might have taken offence at that, but not Yorin. He didn't seem to care one way or the other. A true pragmatist. Along with a murderer. It made for a dangerous combination.

  "Later today," I said "We have the way out, just collecting supplies."

  "When?"

  "After feeding down at the Trough. There's a tunnel on level ten, far side. Use the stairwells. The lifts won't be working." I took a deep breath. "I need you to do something first."

  "I've already not killed someone for you, girl. What more do you want?" There was an edge to Yorin's voice. He always had an edge to his voice.

  "I want you to not kill someone else," I said it with a grin, as though it might make the request more reasonable.

  "Done. Can we go?" I think that was the closest I ever heard Yorin come to a joke. I gave it a smile at least.

  "Fuck you. There's a foreman called Prig," I said. "I need you to beat him up. Badly."

  Yorin raised an eyebrow at that. "You want your foreman out of the way so he doesn't search for us? Why not just kill him?"

  I might have lied. I could have said his death would cause too many questions asked and we didn't want Deko looking too closely into it until we were long gone. Sometimes a lie is necessary. Sometimes a truth is better. "Because one day I'm going to return, and I want to kill the fat fucking slug-licker myself." It's just as important to tailor a truth to the audience, as it is a lie.

  I expected him to smile, but Yorin just nodded at that, not a trace of emotion. "Done."

  Gruel was carried to the Trough in vats. The bread was carried down in sacks. It was all handled by the foremen and Deko's captains. Hard work was usually done by the scabs, but Deko was wise enough not to trust
any of us with the food. We were kept hungry for a reason and food was the highest form of currency to us down in the Pit. Deko wanted it that way because he controlled the food. One more way to keep the scabs in line. It was fucking diabolical.

  I dragged Tamura down to the Trough with me, and we waited for the food to be delivered. A raised dais where the gruel could be spooned into bowls and handed to us. Where mouldering bread could be thrown into starving hands.

  There were two captains manning the Trough. Burly men hand-picked by Deko for their ability to knock heads. I realised then where my plan was so likely to fail. I was the weakest link. I was small and not nearly strong enough, and I didn't know how to fight. I needed the captains out of the way and I wasn't strong enough to remove them.

  I was still hesitating even as the first bowls of gruel were handed out. I was running out of time. I needed the scabs hungry.

  "Calm before it breaks," Tamura said, his voice knowing and sage.

  "I'm hesitating, I know." I ground my teeth in frustration. "I just... I need..." I trailed off as Tamura started forward with a giggle. We were to the side of Trough and I watched him skirt around it, leap up onto the dais, and strike.

  The first of the captains went down to a punch to spine before they knew Tamura was there. The second turned, brandishing a ladle. In a move so quick I couldn't follow it, Tamura disarmed the man and chased him away with his own ladle. I'm not sure if I was more surprised than the scabs watching, but I leapt into the opening Tamura had bought me.

  Climbing the dais behind the food I caught the scabs' attention easily. Some laughed, a few cheered, most watched with eager eyes, wondering what I was about to do next. They had come to expect momentous events from me, and I didn't plan on disappointing them. If only they knew the price.

  There is a secret to working a crowd, especially a crowd of underfed workers living their lives in the worst conditions imaginable. First, tell them the truth. Just a little bit of it. Just enough for them to swallow the lies that follow.

  "Deko uses food to control us," I shouted. Out of the corner of my eye I could already see his thugs over at the Hill standing and staring my way. It would be only moments before they got order to remove me. I had just set in motion something I couldn't undo. Either I got the scabs to listen, to respond, or Deko would kill me. The rumours and fame were something he could ignore, but this was not. This was inciting rebellion. Luckily, there were far more scabs than foremen, and at feeding time almost all of us were down at the Trough; a churning crowd of flesh and sweat they would need to push through to get to me. "They dish out meagre portions for a lifetime of endless bloody digging. And all the while they keep the best bits for themselves.

  "Fresh bread, more than most of us see in a week." The crowd was nodding along, but I needed them to do more than just agree. I needed them whipped into a frenzy. "They don't want us to know it, but they don't just get this shit." I kicked at the gruel to make my point. "The Terrelans give us broth. Real meat. Real food. Deko didn't get that fucking fat by accident. They steal the food that is meant for all of us." I can be quite compelling when I try and the crowd bought my lie without hesitation. In all fairness, it was easy to believe.

  The foremen reached the crowd of scabs in front of me, trying to push their way through, but the scabs were pushing back. It wasn't just that I was speaking, of course, they didn't want to lose their place in line for food.

  "It's not just the food, either," I continued while I could. "Clothes. Bedding. They steal everything meant for us." I was almost screaming to be heard over the noise of the crowd. I've always found it quite surprising how loud a crowd can be even when all they're doing is listening. "We're prisoners, not slaves!"

  The first of the foremen to push his way through, reached the dais and leapt up. Tamura appeared behind the man and, with a twist, sent him tumbling away into the crowd. I didn't see him rise again.

  "They make us fight in the arena for extra scraps." The crowd shouted at that. There were still foremen trying to push their way towards me, but there were others, captains included, at the edge of the crowd who started to back away. There was a charged sense in the air. I didn't realise until then how close Deko kept the scabs to revolt. Walking the knife edge between open revolt and resigned destitution. It must have been a tough balancing act for him, but he managed it with such brutal skill.

  "Down below he is using us to build a palace underground. Deko thinks he's a fucking king. But he's not. He's nothing. Just another prisoner like us." Another cheer and the foremen struggling to push their way through the crowd suddenly found themselves being dragged down. I saw little circles open up in the scabs where the more violent started to kick at the downed foremen. More deaths on my conscience. More skulls paving my way.

  "We outnumber them!" I screamed myself hoarse that day. It was worth it. "They keep us down with fear. But I am not afraid. We are not afraid. This isn't fear. This is unity. This is strength." The crowd screamed with me. "Let's take back what is fucking ours!"

  I finished by pointing towards the Hill where Deko and his captains were massing. It was hard not to see the glint of steel in hands. Shivs and clubs. Harder still not to see the snarl of rage on Deko's face. As I have said, burning bridges is a speciality of mine. If I didn't escape, I would have half the Pit tearing me to pieces by the end of the day, and the other half cheering them on.

  Watching a crowd turn is terrifying when you're behind it. A shift in momentum, the damn breaking and flood waters rushing out in a wave that is all destruction and no reason. It's even worse when you're in front of it, and I have to give respect to Deko and his thugs. They held their ground against numbers that could have crushed them. They didn't. The rebellion lasted only an hour at most before Deko regained control. I have no idea how many scabs died that day, but I am the weapon, and it is not for the weapon to count the lives it has taken.

  No sooner had the crowd turned, then I dropped back down behind the dais, and hurried away with Tamura, clutching two sacks of bread each. Even as we reached the closest stairwell, I could hear the sounds of fighting and the sounds of dying. I had just started my very first rebellion. It would not be my last.

  Chapter 24

  We are insular creatures. We rarely consider, truly contemplate how our actions affect others, affect the world around us. It is not selfishness or arrogance, it is simply a matter of perspective. Drop a pebble in a lake and the ripples will reach every bank. We cannot track every ripple, we cannot see every outcome. Consequence is defined by perspective. That same pebble dropped in the lake, affects a bird resting on the surface, and a fish swimming underneath in entirely different ways. And we cannot be expected to consider them all. Then again, maybe I'm just making excuses for my actions. For the violence I caused.

  I tried to forget that I had just traded away hundreds of lives for a chance at freedom. I can't forget. Nor can I justify it. I did what I did, and I would be lying if I said I wouldn't do it again. Maybe that makes me a monster, yet it is far from the most monstrous thing I have done.

  We found Yorin pacing a tunnel intersection near our escape route. He reminded me of a caged animal left hungry too long. Short steps, balled fists, muscles tight as though he were just waiting to pounce on something. When we got closer, I noticed fresh blood on his knuckles. Yorin seemed to calm when he saw us, standing up to his full, considerable height and taking a deep breath.

  "Is it done?" My first words were all business. Yorin never did pleasantries.

  "I don't like leaving them alive," he said. "Especially not a foreman. If you don't get me out and Deko hears of this..."

  "We're getting out," I hissed and pushed past him towards our tunnel. "Besides, Deko has enough to worry about. If we don't get out, he won't care a rat's blistering arse about you when he has me."

  Tamura let out a giggle. "Winter winds." He twirled a finger around in the air then clapped his hands together with a loud crack. "Churning waters. The mountain meets t
he storm."

  "What does that mean?" Yorin asked.

  I shook my head and glanced back at Tamura. He looked happy enough, despite the gibberish he had just spewed forth. "Sometimes I just don't know," I said.

  When we reached the crack, Tamura collected my food sacks and placed them with his own against the far wall. He took a length of rope and tied them all together, leaving enough of the hemp to tie around his own waist so he could haul the food up and out.

  A nervous energy filled my veins, and not just due to the prospect of escape. I didn't realise it at the time, only through looking back do I see why. There was a sense of fear, far greater than any I had ever felt, flowing through the Pit. It moved through rock and empty air alike. Hundreds of people fighting and dying below. Ssserakis fed on the terror and I felt it.

  "Up there?" Yorin asked, staring into the darkness of the crack above.

  "Yes."

  "It leads out? I don't see any light."

  I picked a lantern from the ground and stood next to him, shining it upwards to reveal cold stone above. "It leads to a way out," I said. "A buried building or something." One way or another, Yorin would have to learn the truth. "We haven't had time to explore it."

  I saw him turn to me out of the corner of my eye. I chose not to look back.

  "You don't know it leads out?" he asked. "Are you saying we could be trading one prison for another."

  "Fuck you." I glanced to find his face unreadable. "Ask yourself this, Yorin. Down here there is nothing but death for you. A lifetime of fighting and killing before you have a bad day and someone beats you. Or maybe you survive long enough you just can't keep up any more. Or maybe Deko gets bored of you always winning. One way or another, you stay down here, and you will fucking die down here.