Evan Burl and the Falling

by Justin Blaney

  Then I realized—of course she was alive. She was a Falling, just like Henri and the others.

  "Terillium!" Mazol said, almost falling over a broken chair as he jumped backwards.

  My heart skipped a beat.

  The man looked up at Mazol, but didn't speak, then began to fade away. But just before he was gone, he saw me. His eyes met mine for only a moment.

  "Father?" I whispered.

  "You're alive?" he said. I thought I detected hope in his voice, or even love. But that was wishful thinking. I couldn't have been more wrong.

  He looked at my uncle.

  "Finish this, Mazol," he said. "Kill that boy if it's the last thing you do."

  And then he was gone.

  My face drained of blood. Numbly, I turned to my uncle and stared at him, racking my brain for a plan. Mazol must have the spider. Then I remembered, I wasn't even sure the spider was what I thought it was. I never actually heard what Yesler said. It could be anything. I wondered if he could kill me from a distance. Should I run?

  But I realized Mazol's eyes were full of fear. He couldn't have the spider or he would have used it already. He had the command he had been waiting for from Terillium. I took a few steps towards Mazol and his face drained of blood. He put his hand to his neck, as if to see if his head was still attached to his body as he stepped backwards away from me. Yesler and Henri had come down the stairs and were standing about ten feet behind him.

  "You know what I am going to become," I said to him. "Don't you?"

  He nodded and took another step back.

  Yesler grabbed Henri from behind, jabbing a knife into her side. She screamed in pain.

  "Stay back," Yesler yelled, "or I'll—"

  I held out my hand and the knife was ripped from Yesler's grip. It landed in my palm. I pointed it at him and said, "Don't speak again." He released Henri like she was suddenly as hot as a branding iron. I turned back to Mazol.

  "You know what I am, but Terillium gave you something to kill me."

  He nodded again.

  "I believe you."

  His eyebrow raised.

  "But I know you can't do it now," I continued, "or you would have already."

  He didn't respond.

  "Here's what's going to happen. You're gonna answer my questions. Based on your answers, I will decide whether to spare your life. Understand?"

  He glanced nervously over his shoulder at Henri.

  "I asked you a question," I said. The knife floated out of my hand and started moving, slowly, point first, towards his face.

  "I don't have much practice," I said. "I don't know if I'll be able to stop it."

  He glanced at Henri again. My eyes flashed past him, curious what he kept looking at. Henri was fumbling with the satchel at her side. Just as she slipped something out, she stepped behind Mazol and I couldn't see what it was. Distracted by her, I lost my concentration and the knife fell to the floor.

  Yesler and I both jumped for it at the same time, but he got there first. I cursed at myself for not using sapience to grab it as Yesler flipped the blade skillfully in his hands. He slashed at my stomach before I even realized what was happening. I jumped back, but not quick enough to escape getting nicked in the gut.

  Reaching for my stomach to stop the bleeding, I stooped over in pain. Mazol grabbed me by the ear and twisted my head sideways so we were face to face.

  "We were saving this for later," he said, a smug smile on his cracked lips.

  His sudden lack of fear towards me caught me off guard. Maybe he had the spider after all. Was he just pretending not to have it, to get me close enough to use it on me? I tried to concentrate on using sapience to push Mazol away, but instead, two oil soaked beams rose into the air and shattered. I shielded my face from the splinters. I tried again, this time to pull his fingers off my ear. But I couldn't control the sapience. A copper pipe twisted into a knot at my feet, then liquified and melted into the debris.

  I looked up to see that Henri was standing behind Mazol, but where was Yesler? She needed to get away while she still could. If Mazol had the spider, there was nothing I could do to stop him. None of us were safe.

  But when I looked again I saw a huge syringe in her hand. At last I knew what she'd been carrying in that pouch—I wondered why she hadn't told me before.

  She put a finger to her lips as she snuck up behind Mazol. A thick drip of black liquid fell to the floor as she tested the plunger. I wanted to smile, but stopped myself so my uncle wouldn't see. After all those years of taking Mazol's abuse, Henri was about to get even.

  She raised it above her head, but Mazol kept his gaze locked with mine. I didn't blink, trying to keep his thoughts on me so he would be distracted from what was coming, hoping she'd get to him before he could use the spider on me.

  I remembered how I'd distrusted Henri—all the terrible things I'd accused her of in my head. And now she was saving me.

  I held my breath as her hand fell.

  But she didn't stab Mazol.

  At the last moment, she stepped passed him, just an arms length from where I stood. The tip of the needle plunged deep into the side of my neck. Mazol released my ear, triumphant. I staggered backward, the needle hanging from my neck's sagging muscles. I grasped for it. My fingers were numb, but I managed to draw it from my skin. There was a clanking sound as it fell.

  And then I toppled over sideways.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Anastasia

  Friday

  5:51 pm

  4 hours, 58 minutes until the Falling

  I could smell the dead. I didn't want to see the bodies so I kept my eyes clenched shut—willing them to go away, to leave me in peace.

  For hours after the explosion destroyed our home, I had been laying on my side, cold stones keeping me from sinking into the earth. I knew from the red shining through my closed eyes that the sun had come up long ago and now was starting to dip low in the sky. I had stayed up all night and all day, but I didn't feel tired. I felt so awake, I didn't think I would ever have to sleep again. But that wasn't all that had changed inside me.

  I was different. I could feel it from my clenched stomach to my throbbing head. My blood pulsed with such power, I felt I could be torn apart from the inside, bursting into thousands of shards like Papa had. Maybe that's what happened to him. His blood became so strong, he couldn't hold it in anymore.

  Squeezing my eyes tighter, I rolled onto my other side and curled into a ball; I didn't want to think about Papa.

  But I had to think about him.

  If he was really gone, I would have to carry on for him. I thought of what he told Claire before he died. He trusted her. That little snot. He could trust me too; I would prove it to him. He said Claire had to kill someone named Evan Burl. I had killed before. Sure that was just animals, but how different could it be? I could kill like my father wanted. I could kill Evan Burl.

  I realized the people in the city would look to me. But I didn't want that. It was my birthday, I was only twelve years old; I couldn't run a city. I didn't know all the things Papa did every day.

  No, Papa must be alive. Maybe he was waiting for me; he would be my birthday present. I only had to find him. It was like hide and seek.

  A rat walked across the stones. I could hear each tiny foot, the swish of it's tail; that was something else that had changed. I could hear things. The ocean waves crashing, insects creeping, women weeping. Who needs eyes when this much could be heard.

  I stretched out my hand on the cold stones and held my palms up.

  "Come here, little rat." I said softly, my eyes still clenched tight.

  I heard it turn its head towards me and imagined it was deciding whether I could be trusted. It took a few steps towards me.

  "That's right, come on now."

  After a short pause, it scurried over and stepped tentatively into my palm.

  "That's a good girl." I pet it softly on the head. With my eyes closed, I could feel the rat so much
better. It was like discovering the sensation of touch for the first time. It's hair was coarse but soft in it's own way.

  "I think I'm going to keep you, little rat." I paused, thinking of name her. "How about I call you—"

  I was interrupted by a terrible shriek behind me.

  "It's her!" A women yelled "I found her!"

  Several sets of feet pounded towards me. How had they gotten so close without me noticing them? I must have been distracted by the little rat.

  The thought of being fawned over and inspected like some feeble child vexed me. Why couldn't they just go away?

  For the first time since the explosion, I opened my eyes. The sunlight was very bright, but it didn't hurt my eyes. I wasn't at all near the house like I expected. I was in the town graveyard, lying in the central square near to were my mother's family was buried. A little iron fence ran around the circular patch of stone, about 30 feet across. A few feet behind me was the pointed obelisk where I was told criminals used to be tied up and burned alive.

  I sat up, and scooted backwards so I was could lean against the obelisk. I pet my little rat softly as I thought about how I was going to find Evan Burl so I could kill him. I realized a women was gawking a me and I glared at her. Two other men were standing next to her, huffing like they had just run a long ways. I had a perfect name for the rat, but these nasty people made me forget what it was.

  "We were worried sick," the woman said. She turned to the younger man beside her and said, "Run into town and tell everyone that Anastasia's been found." The young man bounded off and even as he went, I saw more people spot us and begin running in our direction.

  More people to pester me. Didn't they know I had things to do? I had my birthday to plan. I had my Papa to find. And I had a boy to kill.

  "Are you well child?" the other man said, stooping down next to me. "What's this in your hands?" He uncurled my fingers and the women screamed.

  "It's a rat!" she said, stepping back.

  "And dead by the looks of it," the man added. "Give it hear, child, you could get sick playing with a dead rat."

  "It's my pet," I said, yanking it away from him.

  "It's dead. Stop being foolish and give it here," the man said.

  "Don't tell me what to do," I said, but as I did I heard the little rat squeal. I looked down and was found that the rat had died in my hands. In my anger, I had squeezed too hard.

  "You made me kill it," I said.

  "It was already dead child," the women said. "Now put it down before anyone else see's you with it." I did not like this woman's tone. Who did she think she was?

  "Can you walk?" The man said, and offered me his hand. Three or four more people were crowding around us now and I was really starting to lose my temper. Ignoring his outstretched hand, I turned away from all of them—gawking like I was some zoo exhibit. I set the little rat down on the cobblestone, sad that my pet had been taken from me.

  The man put his hand on my shoulder and I froze.

  "Miss, we have to get you to a hospital. It's a miracle you're alive at all."

  I pushed my lips together tight and yanked my shoulder away from him.

  "Forgive me miss, I've forgotten my manners," he said, seeming to try a different tact. "I've been appointed by the town as your steward. I'm here to take care of you."

  He tried to turn me around with his hand.

  "Stop grabbing me!" I shouted and pushed his hand off my shoulder. "It's not nice."

  "Don't misunderstand miss, I'm just trying to help you."

  "I don't need your help." I grabbed his hand and his face twisted in pain. I squeezed tighter.

  "Stop it..." he said, "you're hurting me."

  "I'll do what I like," I said, standing up next to the man. I pushed his hand higher until he was forced to bend over. "I'm not a little girl."

  I kept lifting as he screamed in pain until finally, it snapped. Several people gasped. I was scared by their reaction. It had all happened so fast, I hadn't had time to think it over. I dropped his hand and stepped backward as he fell to the ground groaning. Several more people had arrived and it was a small crowd now. They looked from me to the man; several rushed to his side.

  "Someone call a healer!"

  "I didn't mean to hurt him," I said, but he should have listened to me. It was his fault.

  The man's eyes rolled backwards and he began seizuring. I couldn't help but let out a giggle; he looked so funny, like a fish out of water. White foam rolled out of his mouth.

  A few people ran in the direction of the town as others called for them to hurry, but it was too late. After a few moments, the man's seizure slowed until he just lay there breathing heavily with eyes as white as stars. Then he gasped short. I watched with fascination as his life floated away. I had never seen a man die before; it left me with so many questions. Did blood always run from their ears afterward? Did death always smell like that?

  A man put fingers to his neck and said, "He's dead."

  I became aware that everyone was staring at me, but I tried to ignore them. They were giving me a headache.

  "What d, d, did you do to him?" a small man with a high voice asked as he fumbled nervously with his spectacles.

  Looking him over, I found him undeserving of an answer.

  "What's going on here?" another voice said. I recognized it and realized why when the man who it belonged to stepped forward. It was the mayor of the town; he had been appointed to the position by Papa.

  "Jonathan Stock is d-d-dead," the man with glasses said, then leaned up and whispered in the mayor's ear which I heard as perfectly as if he had been shouting. "We t-think somehow Anastasia is responsible. She d-d-did something... strange to him."

  The mayor hrrumphed in a way I thought only a large man like him could.

  "That is impossible," he said, then looked at me kindly and made a small bow. "My dear Anastasia, I am so sorry for your loss. Will you come stay at my home until we can sort everything out?"

  Well at least the mayor had some manners. He held out his arms to me. I hesitated for a moment, then let him embrace me. Something deep inside of me wanted desperately to cry, though I can't think of why I would feel that way. I managed to hold back the tears, but I did hug him back a little. He was a kind man and Papa seemed to trust him enough to make him mayor.

  "I can't seem to find my Papa," I said suddenly, looking up at him and feeling far more vulnerable than I cared to admit. "Have you seen him?"

  "Oh my dear..." he said and hugged me tighter.

  We began walking together towards the town, he held my hand. The last sliver of sun dipped below the mountains and I shivered, though I wasn't cold. After a while I looked up at him again and said, "Have you ever heard of a boy named Evan Burl?"

  "Is that a friend of yours?"

  "I want to invite him to my birthday party."

  "Hmmm," he said. "No, I'm afraid I haven't heard of him."

  "That's too bad, I really need to find him." I thought for a moment, then asked, "Will you help me find Evan?"

  "Of course dear. I'll help you find your friend."

  I spotted something at my feet and stooped down to pick it up. It was a leather book. I remembered what Claire had been trying to tell me before the fire. Something about a book like this one. It was in her dress when she fell, but could it have fallen out? Could that little book have survived the explosion and landed all the way over here, by the graveyard?

  I flipped it open and found that most the pages were blank. Except the first few. There were two letters in my Papa's handwriting.

  "What is that, dear?" The mayor asked.

  I ignored him and scanned the letter. Then I saw it.

  ...Evan Burl is a monster...

  This book was about my new friend. I knew it would lead me to him somehow. I folded it closed and, slipping it in my dress pocket, took the mayors hand again.

  I think I might like this Evan Burl, he sounds exciting. Too bad I have to kill him.


  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Evan

  Friday

  6:13 pm

  4 hours, 36 minutes until the Falling

  I was supposed to be unconscious. But I wasn't.

  I lay there on my side, face shoved hard against the iron gear of a destroyed clanker, eyes closed. My breathing was slow and steady and my feet were tingling like they had fallen asleep. The smell of rust made me need to sneeze, but I held it in.

  The last time I was stabbed with the black stuff in that syringe, I was out for hours. It wasn't affecting me as much this time.

  I was getting stronger.

  I thought of Henri, how she had made such a fool of me. I should be furious. And I was. But my chest was burning in a way that anger couldn't make it.

  Her lies made it easier to leave, I knew she didn't care about me anymore. How many years had it been since she stopped loving me? Or was it just the last few days, since she learned what I was turning into.

  I should have wanted to run from Daemanhur without looking back, but I wanted to stay. Maybe it was the other girls. Maybe I just couldn't give up on Henri.

  I was angry, but the lump in my stomach told me there was something else going on inside me. I was sick with guilt.

  But I didn't want to be guilty. I wanted to by angry. Why should I feel guilty? She was the one who betrayed me. She lied. She kissed me. She said she was sorry and then turned on me. I have nothing to feel guilty about.

  Yet somehow, I knew she was right. I was turning into a monster. She was only doing what every other person in my life had ever done to me. She saw me for who I was; she was protecting herself and the other girls from me.

  I grit my teeth, pushing those feelings away. I wanted to be angry. She should have tried to help me, not betray me. Henri was no better than my father.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Pearl sit up. Pale as the white sheets that covered Daemanhur's furniture, she swayed, then started heaving. Nothing came out; her stomach was too empty. She probably hadn't eaten for days. Then my stomach growled. I swallowed some spit and ignored the pain.