So Below: The Trilogy

by Matt Whyman

  “Here we go,” says Livia now, and switches shots to a camera on Parliament Square. On the screen, Big Ben’s famous clock face shows the big hand crank toward twelve. She punches a second key, returning to another view of the square, and there the crowd go wild.

  “Those fireworks are just too good to be true,” whistles Yoshi, leaning forward in the big swivel chair to admire the view. “I was concentrating so hard on the operation that I didn’t really pay them much attention at the time.”

  For a moment, the crew watch in silence as one rocket after another lifts off from the Chinatown rooftops.

  “Can you go higher?” asks Billy.

  “What’s the matter?” whispers Mikhail. “Are you scared you might be spotted dodging your duties for a second time?”

  “When it comes to the next operation,” says the boy with the rollerblades and bandanna, “I’m staying on the Bridge, no matter what anyone says! I know it’s important that every crew member takes a turn to steer this old tub, but issuing orders is what I do best.”

  “Suits me,” says Yoshi, as Livia returns to the shot of the square with the backdrop of scrapers. “I’d rather be where the action is than watching it,” he says, nodding at the screen. “Maybe it’s because I’m not used to being cooped up in a bunker, but right now all I want to do is head for the rooftops and take myself on an aerial workout under the stars. Would anyone care to join me in a little parkour?”

  “Count me out,” Scarlett tells him. “I can light a fire in a hearth just by looking at it, but I know I can’t leap between high buildings.”

  “Aw, c’mon!” Blaize counters. “Isn’t it about time we lived a little?”

  “You keep your feet on the ground, sister. We’d only crash and burn.”

  Billy looks to Mikhail, who backs away from the invitation. “I’m ready for my bunk,” the young Russian says. “It’s been a long night.”

  “The night has hardly started!” declares Yoshi, and appeals to Billy directly this time. “C’mon,” he says hopefully. “I can make a free runner of you yet, but you’ll have to remove those rollerblades. Travelling across the balconies and parapets is best done in bare feet. It’s all about your connection with the surfaces.”

  “That’s what worries me,” says Billy. “Springing across rooftops is one thing, but I don’t want to risk connecting with the surface on the ground. Yoshi, only you get a buzz from leaping around London’s upper levels. Everyone here just gets wobbly legs as soon as they look over a ledge. So thanks for the offer, but no. I’m staying here in the bunker, where it’s safe.”

  Yoshi shrugs, scanning the rest of the room for signs of a volunteer, but nobody obliges. “OK, suit yourself.” He glances at the big screen playback once more, where some familiar faces from the crew can be seen moving through a crowd in thrall to the fireworks. “As soon as we’ve finished the debrief, I’m going to find myself a very tall building and take a running jump.”

  “The debrief is cancelled.” This is Julius, and his declaration causes every head to swivel around to face him. “There’s no need to pick apart the conjuring tricks you performed out there this evening. I believe I’ve seen quite enough for one night. Now I’m sure if you ask Billy nicely, he’ll prepare some sushi in the galley.”

  “I can do that,” the Executive Deck Hand volunteers. “There’s no chance of breaking an ankle rolling fish cuts into rice and sheets of dried seaweed.”

  “Excellent!” The old man brings his hands together, beaming broadly. “Now off you go, and celebrate the New Year.”

  With Billy and Mikhail leading the way, the crew file out from the Bridge, chattering and laughing as they leave. Livia freezes the footage, while Yoshi spins around in his chair, anxious to be up on his feet and out of here. As he does so, however, he finds Julius standing directly in front of him. He looks up at the old man, finds the cheery expression has vanished.

  “Before you join the others,” he says, addressing not just Yoshi but Livia and the twins, “I believe you owe me an explanation.”

  “About what?” asks Yoshi, mystified.

  In response, Julius draws their attention to the Chinatown skyline frozen on the screen.

  “I know you’re learning to play tricks on the streets,” he tells them, “but you of all people should know not to mess around with real magick. You’re gifted kids, in unique ways. Please don’t abuse it by sneaking out under the city to fool around with the ley lines.”

  “But we didn’t,” protests Scarlett, and her twin sister swiftly backs her up. Julius, however, seems less than convinced. “If the rest of the crew knew that you’d deserted your posts this evening just to have a little fun, they would be most disappointed.”

  Yoshi exchanges a look with the fire-starting twins and the girl with the livid aura. He knows that Livia could easily communicate with him now using just the power of her mind, but it’s clear by the frown on her face that she’s equally bemused.

  “Do we look like jokers?” asks Blaize, her eyes burning brightly now.

  “It’s no laughing matter, that’s for sure,” continues Julius sharply. “Somehow, you managed to fire up the ring full circle. With only four of you available to cover the waypoints, that’s both incredible and, frankly, terrifying. I don’t know how you pulled it off, but in the wrong hands it wouldn’t just have been the odd manhole cover and fuel line that blew to kingdom come. Had you drained the ring of energy, or influenced the charge in any way, the capital could have been doomed.”

  “On my sister’s life,” Scarlett tells him, drawing just a momentary glare from Blaize, “we didn’t go near the ley lines this evening.”

  “Had you removed the city’s protective ring,” continues Julius, regardless, “all manner of dark forces could’ve stepped in unbidden. You really have been reckless. I am most disappointed.”

  “Are you calling us liars?” Blaize demands to know, seemingly untroubled by the sizzling sound that occurs every time she jabs a finger at him.

  “OK, cool it, everyone!” This is Livia, who steps between Julius and the twins. “We’re all friends here, remember. There’s no need for tempers to flare.”

  “Then just tell me how you did it!” pleads Julius, suddenly exasperated. “I’m begging you. I need to know!”

  The old man’s outburst is met by silence. It seems to thicken in the air, giving everyone a moment to think about this angry exchange, and for Julius to regain his composure. Finally, Livia finds her voice once more.

  “Without your help,” she tells him, speaking both calmly and quietly now, “all four of us would still be locked up in Aleister’s Foundation. He wasn’t offering us the kind of therapy that persuaded our parents to sign us on to the programme. That was a con. A scheming trick to persuade them to hand us into his care. Our psychic gifts may have marked us out in different ways, making it hard for us to fit into the world, but we know now that he was basically grooming us to help him conquer the Faerie Ring. What treatment we received wasn’t designed to benefit us. He was basically testing our powers and waiting until they peaked. Had he recruited seven of us, one for each waypoint in the ring, then London would be a very different place today, but you helped us to break free. Julius, we owe you a great deal. You’ve even allowed us to hide out with your crew. Why would we disrespect you by messing around with magick we can’t yet control?”

  “Hand on heart,” says Yoshi, pressing a palm to his chest, “none of us have been near a ley line all night. We’ve been here on the Bridge, just as you instructed, directing operations.”

  Now it’s Julius Grimaldi’s turn to go around them in turn with a searching expression. He reads their faces one by one, only to sigh long and hard on reaching Yoshi. “The fact that I have to believe you troubles me even more,” he says. “Because if you weren’t behind what occurred out there this evening, who on earth could it have been?”

  Yoshi sees Julius lift his attention to the screen behind him, and concludes to himself that the
answer must be in the footage. “Livia,” he says without turning, or taking his eyes from the old man, “replay the display at half speed. It seems we’re missing the main event.”

  9

  YOU CAN’T TRICK A TRICKSTER

  The canteen is located on the same level as the Bridge, just along the gangway. It takes no more than a minute to file from A to B, which is why eyes are raised when the new recruits show up almost half an hour after everyone else.

  “Don’t tell me you got lost,” says Billy, from behind the serving hatch. “It’s lucky I saved you some tuna maki,” he adds, and produces a platter of these fancy fish and rice rolls for Yoshi and the girls. “Otherwise you’d have gone from being lost to being hungry.”

  “Thanks,” says Yoshi absently, and takes the platter to the furthest bench. Livia and the twins follow close behind, ignoring the occasional glance that comes their way. They’d lived with such looks ever since their paranormal talents emerged, but at least here they weren’t tormented for it. Indeed, the rest of the crew have grown used to the strange glow surrounding one of the girls they had helped to escape from the Foundation, and also the way those twins could light up a room without appearing to strike a match. Even Yoshi himself had dazzled them with his ability to describe what was happening behind any locked door of their choice. Through the eyes of these street performers, however, it all boiled down to illusions that they simply haven’t cracked just yet. As far as Yoshi and his fellow escapees were concerned, that suited them just fine.

  Besides, what they had just witnessed through the traffic cams demanded some explanation itself.

  “Well, that was unexpected,” says Livia, as the four take to their seats. “Seven great spikes of fire and water isn’t something you see every day in any city.”

  “And in the Faerie Ring formation, too,” says Yoshi. “Do you think that if each of us put our hands on a waypoint we could summon up that kind of spectacle?”

  “There are only four of us,” Blaize points out. “And seven waypoints in the ring. So do the math, Yoshi. We’re short of three pairs of hands.”

  Scarlett selects a roll, and examines it between her fingers. “We weren’t the only ones to bust free from the Foundation, guys. There are a lot of psychic kids out there. Maybe seven of them banded together.”

  “Get real!” her sister scoffs. “We’re the cream of the crop. Aleister said so himself. He was basically waiting for the next generation of little ones to get to grips with their powers as we had and . . . well. Once he’d reached the magic number, it would’ve been goodnight London, I guess.”

  “Whatever caused those jets of fire and water has certainly rattled Julius,” comments Yoshi. “Not only has it ruined his appetite, he’s taken himself to the Map Room to contemplate what it must mean.”

  “The way I see things,” says Livia, “there’s a race on here for control of the ring.”

  “And whoever controls the ring controls the fate of the city,” adds Scarlett, dropping her voice by several octaves in a bid to sound like the old man himself. “Thank goodness we’ve seen the back of Aleister,” she continues, as herself again. “Otherwise I’d be off my food, too.”

  “Do you think he’s gone for good?” Yoshi offers up the question with some hesitation, as if just voicing such concern might summon the brute into their lives once more.

  “Put it this way,” says Blaize, “the last time I looked down into his eyes, we were standing on a bridge in an underground station, and a tube train was bearing down upon him.”

  “There’s no human way he could’ve survived,” her sister adds, clearly mindful of their showdown with the man. “You worry too much, Yoshi.”

  The boy chews on some sushi as well as her advice. Finally, he says: “After what we’ve just seen I think my trip to the rooftops can wait a while. Right now it sounds like there’s more going on below ground than above.”

  “Correction,” comes a voice from over his shoulder, and when he turns there is Mikhail with his hands spread as wide as his smile. “It’s all about to happen right here before your very eyes!”

  Yoshi faces back to the girls, aware that his Russian friend is still beaming brightly behind him.

  “Now I’ll never get away,” he jokes quietly. Ever since their arrival, Mikhail had been introducing them to trick after trick. Not just so they learned how to perform with the crew and earn their keep, but in the hope that they might show him a thing or two. Under the young Russian’s guidance, Yoshi, Livia and the twins could make a coin appear to vanish inside a handkerchief and cause a card to float from the palm of their hands. With great patience, Mikhail had shown them how to slip the coin from view at the last moment, and position a matchstick between the fingers that allowed them to push up any card as if in defiance of gravity. In return, the lad heard the same old excuse from them, just as he does again now. “Mikhail, it’s very good of you to teach us the tricks of your trade,” says Yoshi, “but what we do is no illusion.”

  “So you keep trying to convince me,” smiles Mikhail.

  “It really is the way we’re made,” adds Livia, her aura glowing brightly now. She turns to the twins to back her up. Scarlett snaps her fingers, which causes sparks to fly, while Blaize simply shrugs and says: “Just accept it.”

  Mikhail thinks things through for a moment, before returning his attention to Yoshi. “But I’ve seen you accurately describe what’s going on outside the bunker without once looking at the cams. How is that possible? You must have a tiny earpiece, with someone up there to see things for you and feed it through.”

  Yoshi shakes his head and sighs. “In the Foundation, I heard the specialists call it remote viewing. There’s no earpiece or accomplice. It’s just a feeling that comes to me every now and then. It’s how I used to stay in touch with Livia, even though we were locked up on different floors.”

  “It’s a psychic thing,” says Scarlett, as if that might help. “It’s a very different kind of magic than the kind you do so well.”

  Mikhail grins, his nose ring glinting in the downlights. “You can’t trick a trickster,” he tells them. “We all know there’s no such thing as magic. It all boils down to misdirection, suggestion and illusion. Everything has an explanation, after all.”

  “So,” says Livia, finishing the last of her sushi, “why don’t you show us something special and we’ll see if we can work out how it’s done?”

  The young Russian turns his gaze from Yoshi to the girls. “OK, here’s the deal,” he says, moving around the bench now to address them from the far end. “And if you fail to work it out, I think it’s only fair that you give me a crash course in remote viewing. What do you say to that?”

  “Mikhail, how many more times?”

  “You can bluff all you like, my friend. It shows you’ll cut it as a showman on the streets. But no matter how much you make out that you’re in possession of a special gift, I refuse to believe it’s anything more than a fine trick. And one I deserve to learn.”

  “Very well,” sighs Yoshi, abandoning the argument altogether. “Though we’ve been here for more than a month. I should think by now we can see through any trick you care to try out on us.”

  “Yeah? Well, you haven’t seen this one yet.” Mikhail rubs his hands together, sizing up his end of the bench, it seems. “Firstly,” he adds, on picking up a speck from the surface, “I need to clear some space.”

  Instead of flicking the speck away, however, he drops it into his palm. On his holding it out for closer inspection, Livia is the first to respond when her aura turns a sickly green.

  “Yeeew. A dead fly! That’s so unhygienic.”

  “Someone should tell Billy,” suggests Blaize, and shoots a glance at the Executive Deck Hand behind the serving hatch.

  “Oh, I shouldn’t trouble him,” says Mikhail, speaking low in case his voice carries too far. “He’ll only take it personally.”

  “Get rid of that thing!” Scarlett tells him sternly. “Before I
incinerate it out of your hands.”

  “I wouldn’t do that, either,” he says, with a hint of a smile. “In fact, why don’t I resurrect it for you?”

  “Oh right,” says Yoshi, aware that this is all part of the performance. “Now this I have to see.”

  The Russian boy stands up straight, rolls his shoulders to prepare, and then shuts his eyes. “In a moment,” he says theatrically, “I shall breathe life back into this poor helpless creature, and raise it from the grave!” With that, he brings his open palm before his lips, and blows gently upon the upturned fly.

  Yoshi glances at the girls, who watch with interest.

  “This had better be good,” mutters Scarlett. “A dead fly is not what I want to see at the table.”

  Mikhail breaks off at this point, and a mischievous glint comes into his eye. “So what’s the magic word?” he asks.

  “Oh get on with it!” demands Blaize, only to fall speechless when Mikhail returns his attention to the fly and allows his jaw to drop in staged surprise.

  Everyone strains for a better look, and then turn to each other. Stunned.

  “It’s moving!” Livia sounds amazed. “Look, its legs are twitching!”

  Again, Mikhail blows gently on the fly. This time, it flips over, flexes its wings, and then, with a little hesitation, takes off into the air.

  “That’s incredible!” Yoshi is up on his feet, as are the girls. “I was watching closely to see if you switched it for a live one, but didn’t see a thing.”

  “Hand on heart,” says Mikhail. “No substitution was involved.”

  “Then you really did bring it back to life!” declares Livia. “But how?”