Evan Burl and the Falling

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Evan Burl and the Falling Page 27

by Justin Blaney


  I found a hole in the clanker where I could see most of the room. Pressing my face up against the machine, I watched them, my eyes wide. One by one, the four fallings crawled out onto the pile of ruble and up the tower I had created as a cage for Ballard, Mazol and Yesler. When they reached the top, they began peeling back the iron bars that held the warts captive. In less than a minute, the work was done.

  "How do we know you're not playing us?" Mazol said, after he climbed down. It was the same question I was thinking. "How do we know you're not up to something with the gimp?"

  "Evan," Henri said, correcting him.

  "Whatever."

  "I don't see that you have the choice."

  "Where are the rest of the girls?"

  "Evan told them to gather in the entrance hall."

  "Are they eating?" Yesler said and Ballard seemed to suddenly become more interested in the conversation.

  "I don't know. Probably. They know that you were trapped in here."

  "That's our food," Yesler snarled.

  "He's right," Mazol said. "We need it for the trip."

  "They won't eat any food when they're dead," Yesler said.

  "We're not going to kill them," Henri said.

  "We can't take them with us," Mazol said.

  "I already have it worked out. We'll leave them here. Then we'll tell the people in the town when we pass through. Someone is sure to come up and take care of them."

  Yesler laughed.

  "Not everyone is as heartless as you," Henri said.

  "No one out there is going to care."

  "They will care, if we tell them the truth, that the girls are fallings."

  "You think people are going to believe that? I don't even believe it and I've been living with you freaks for five years."

  "That's enough," Mazol said. "We'll do as Henri said. I can see there's no changing her mind." Henri looked satisfied and began walking to the door. She didn't see the look Mazol gave Yesler behind her back, the look that said they had no intention of following Henri's plan. They met at the top of the stairs and I moved further around the back of the clanker so they wouldn't see me.

  "What about these four?" Yesler said.

  "Are they alive?" Ballard said.

  Henri turned around and stared at the four dead orphan girls. They had sad looks on their faces.

  "No," Henri said. "They're not alive."

  "Are you sure?" Ballard said.

  "If anyone would know, it would be me." I wondered what she meant by that. Was it because she and I had found all the dead fallings right after they died? Or because she was responsible? My stomach was sinking. How long ago had she found the spider? Mazol really couldn't have been responsible if Henri had it. But that would mean, that the killer was Henri.

  "I don't know what they are, but they only come around when I've got the skull pendent." Henri held it up in the air and inspected it warily.

  "Can you make them go away?" Yesler said. "They're giving me the creeps."

  "They come and go when they're told," Henri said, then turned her attention to the girls. "I'll call for you again if I need you. Thank you for helping." The four girls walked back through the door into the dark hallway. They seemed to disappear like vapors just before the shadows took them.

  "Go make sure the girls don't eat all our provisions," Mazol said to Henri.

  "They have to eat something," Henri said, then seemed to realize he had a point after all. "I'll make sure they don't take too much. We'll leave just enough for them to eat until the townspeople come to find them."

  "What a waste—" Yesler said, but Mazol kicked him in the shin.

  "One more thing," Henri said. "The girl who fell is named Claire. She's looking for Evan too. Said she's planning to kill him. I don't think she's right in the head. I'd be careful."

  "Fine, we'll keep our eye out for her," Mazol said and Henri disappeared through the same door the four dead fallings passed through. After she was gone Yesler walked up close to Mazol.

  "What's this all about?" Yesler said. "We're not actually going along with her are we?"

  "Of course not. We can't take five. Only four. You, me, Ballard and the gimp."

  "So what are you going to do?" Ballard said.

  "We stick to the plan," Mazol said.

  "Can I do it?" Yesler said. "Can I kill them?"

  "I don't think it's right, killing all those girls" Ballard said.

  "You never seem to get that I don't care what you think," Mazol said. "Just do as your told and I'll make sure you keep that enormous belly full. That was our deal five years ago. That's our deal today."

  "Is the chest safe?"

  "Luckily, I hid it in a hole in the wall before that girl fell." Yesler clamered up a set of stairs, then returned a moment later with one of the small iron chests under his arms.

  "Better make sure it's all still there." Mazol took a key ring from his pocket and opened the latch. Just like the first time I saw one of those chests open, my eyes widened as the lid slowly opened on it's own. I'd never thought about it before, but it must be made with sapience. Whoever sent the fallings to Daemanhur, and since then, all the chests filled with whatever was processed in the clankers, must be a sapient.

  I leaned forward, unable to contain my interest in what was held in the chest. Five years I worked those clankers and never once knew what we were doing. Mazol reached in and lifted a fist full of something in his hand. Hundreds of tiny, bright blue stones fell from his fingers. I'd seen stones like that before, but the ones described in Natural History were supposed to be clear. They were called diamonds. Could these be the same stones? They were supposed to be immensely valuable. A chest full could pay for safe transport through the jungles and a lot more.

  "Looks like it's all here," Mazol said, then snapped the chest shut and handed it to Yesler. His eyes were bright as he and Mazol walked through the door, leaving Ballard behind. "Go to the entrance hall, but don't do anything until I get there. I'm going to check my bedchambers to see if Henri really did steal the spider. It's not likely, but maybe she managed to make a fake."

  "When was the last time you saw it?"

  "Quite a while. She could have taken it weeks ago and I wouldn't have known."

  If Mazol was telling the truth, Henri really had to be the killer. The spider was the only thing that could kill the fallings and Mazol hadn't touched it in weeks. The thoughts rushed through my mind, but I resisted them. I could believe Henri would turn on me; she knew what I was going to turn into. But killing the girls? It wasn't right. Why would she be trying to protect the others if she killed four of them?

  "You really think she's lying?" Yesler said. They were in the hall, but I could still hear their conversation.

  "Only a fool would take Henri at her word. She's in love with the gimp. She'd say or do anything if she thought it would help him. Look what lengths she's gone through to hide the truth from Evan. If she knows about the spider, she must know the truth about him. Evan would destroy himself if he found out what she knew."

  "So are we ready to kill them off?"

  "Knock Henri over the head and take the spider from her. Then lock her and the others up in the entrance hall until I've had time to check my bedchamber. If Henri's got the real thing, we'll use it to kill everyone off. Otherwise, I'll find the real spider where I keep it hidden. Either way, this will all be done in the next few hours."

  "What about the girl who fell?"

  "She's a falling like the others. We'll kill her too."

  "Then we get out of here before anyone comes looking."

  After this, I heard two pairs of light footsteps and Ballard's heavy stomping following behind on the hard marble, slowly growing fainter until the sounds of buzzing bugs and rain drowned them out.

  I stepped out from behind the broken clanker and sat on the top stair that lead down to the Caldroen floor. I rubbed my temples for a moment, then stood back up. My head was throbbing, but there was no time to sit. I di
dn't know what to make of Henri, but somehow I knew she was involved. She had the spider the whole time the fallings had been dying. There was no way to get around it.

  "Henri is killing the fallings." I said it out loud, hoping it would sink in more that way.

  I felt numb as I walked to the blast door Henri disappeared through, but I stopped in the threshold. Feeling dizzy, I put my hand out to brace myself against the thick stone walls. As soon as my fingers touched the wall, something in the stone began chirping like a cricket only more mechanical. My palm was fixed to the stone as I watched little lines of light pulsed under my skin.

  With a shaking crash, all six doors to the Caldroen slammed shut. I could hear the bolts move into place that held the doors shut if there was an explosion. I looked down at my feet just in time to see the platform beneath me disappear. At the same time, a dark hole formed in the floor on the first level below me.

  There was a moment of dizzying weightlessness.

  I had jumped from the great Balizia tree into the courtyard lake countless times, but never gotten used to that feeling of falling. It was worse this time, I didn't expect it. I yelled, but no one would have heard me when the blast doors were shut.

  I landed in a cloud of dust. The dense silence of this room I had fallen into was broken here and there by debris settling. Something loud crashed a few feet away, the echo went on and on as if the room stretched on for miles into the darkness. A few long beams of light streaked through the dust, but it wasn't bright enough to see walls in any direction. The floor was made from roughly carved stones and had groves so deep between them I could stick my fingers in as far as they would reach and not feel the grout.

  Finally, my eyes began to adjust to the darkness. There were shelves. Rows and rows of shelves ran like courtyard walls into the jungle as far as I could see. I landed in some kind of circular room; a few wooden tables, stuffed chairs and workbenches stood around me.

  Out of the silence, something creaked behind me. I whipped around, my fists steady in front of me, but could see nothing in the darkness. There was another creak and I yelled, "who's there."

  There was a long silence as my chest pounded harder and harder. I took a step forward. Something flashed in the light, but then it was gone.

  "Show yourself."

  Then I heard a voice.

  "Welcome back."

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  Anastasia

  Friday

  7:39 pm

  3 hours, 10 minutes until the Falling

  I wanted to watch the house burn.

  I climbed a big tree across the street and waited, but I was disappointed. The house never caught completely. Smoke billowed from the windows for a while, but it eventually stopped. I remembered the burning chair was on a stone floor and there wasn't much wood around to burn. My stomach growled and I was about to slip down when a carriage rattled down the street. The Mayor and several others got out.

  I could smell it from across the street when they opened the door; burnt hair and flesh. Coughing, the men dashed inside yelling for me and Baxter. I wondered what they would think when they saw him lying in his own ashes. Perhaps when they saw what happened to liars they would be inspired to become better people themselves.

  After a few more minutes, I decided it was time to head home; Papa would be worried sick. Then I remembered with a rush of excitement that it was my birthday. I couldn't wait to see my presents, Papa always got me the most wonderful gifts. I played with the bracelet on my arm, wondering how long ago it had been that Papa gave it to me. I took a shortcut through the jungle, planning to pass through the graveyard where the townspeople found me earlier that night.

  I had to watch the ground carefully, stepping over roots and rocks to keep from tripping. Though it was a moonless night, I could see almost as well as if it was midday. I imagined I was a jaguar; my tutors taught me that cats can see well at night and it was fun pretending.

  When I passed through the gates to the graveyard I came back to myself and stopped short. Feeling inside my pocket, I found the leather book that talked about killing Evan Burl. I flipped through it's pages again and was surprised to find there were more pages with writing; some of my favorite stories. I loved to read when I was younger, but hadn't for years. I walked to the center square with my nose glued to the pages.

  Sitting against the obelisk, I read faster and faster, reliving the entire tale. There were swashbuckling pirates and maidens and gold and jewels and the open sea; the story was better than I remembered it. As I read, the words began to form pictures. The waves under a great warship splashed off the page and mist sprayed my face. I could hear the sounds of swords clashing and men shouting as they swung from one mast to the next. A shot fired and I jumped at the booming sound. The cannon ball flew off the page, making a whooshing sound as it narrowly missed my head.

  Then I heard voices. After a moment, I realized they weren't coming from the book.

  "She was walking this direction," one said.

  There were lots of footsteps, perhaps dozens of people. They were walking fast.

  Then I saw them. Coming out of the jungle was a horde; they carried torches, spears, clubs and ropes. I wondered what they were possibly doing at this time of morning marching through the jungle. Could I have fallen inside the book? Maybe this was just another story. It sounded like great fun to live inside a story.

  "There she is!" someone yelled and many began to run.

  They stopped a short distance from me. No one seemed to want to get to close and they looked uncertain of what they were doing. They were excellent actors.

  "Arrest her!" someone yelled.

  "This is ridiculous," said another. "Look at her, she's just a child."

  "There must be a trial," said another.

  They weren't making any sense. I looked at the book for a clue to what was going on. What story were they acting out?

  I turned the page, scanning the pages when I noticed the mayor stepping forward.

  "We all know what you've been through...," the mayor said, "but we need some answers. You may only be a child, but you're old enough to tell us... well, two men have died today. Can you tell us what happened to them?"

  The mayor paused like he was waiting for something.

  "No one is accusing you of killing those men," he said. Someone coughed and others mumbled before the mayor continued. "But, we need to know what happened."

  The mayor paused again. I looked up from my book.

  "Why are you all staring at me?"

  "Anastasia—"

  "Oh, you were talking to me. Well why didn't you say so?"

  "Cut out this nonsense." The mayor paused again, but seemed to be growing cross.

  "Impatience isn't a virtue," I said. This wasn't a very fun story.

  "If you tell us what happened, everything that happened, there's a chance you'll get some extra consideration because of your age and all the terrible things that have happened to you."

  "I can't play right now. It's almost my bedtime."

  "Anastasia, this isn't a game. Two men are dead. What have you to say for yourself."

  I felt my eyebrows furrow. "You're starting to sound like my mother. I don't like it when people mother me."

  The mayor turned around and held his arms up helplessly. "I don't know what to say, but we're not getting anywhere. She's obviously unwell, even unstable. I hate to do it, but I think we should take her into custody and sort this out after everyone has had some time to sleep on it."

  "But she's a murderer!" someone yelled and there was a murmur of agreement.

  "I won't have anyone making any rash judgements, this is the Lord Amadaeus's eldest daughter. By rights, she is our Lictor."

  Several city guards stepped forward.

  "Gentle now," the mayor said. "No need to scare the child."

  A large man pushed to the front of the crowd and said, "I'm not leaving here until she answers for what happened to my pappe."

&
nbsp; "We want answers!" another yelled.

  The guards turned to face the crowd and the mayor stepped between me and the large man.

  "Baxter's memory won't be honored by spilling blood tonight." The mayor said, his voice rising to be heard above the growing commotion from the crowd. "I will not have anyone touch the girl. There will be an investigation."

  The people pushed forward and the guards jumped in front of the mayor with their spears lowered towards the crowd. It was all quite fascinating, but I was going to lose my patience if they stayed much longer. No one likes a guest who can't tell when they've worn out their welcome.

  "My mother doesn't like me having anyone over at this hour. You'll have to go now." It seemed like everyone was shouting at once and I didn't like having to repeat myself. "I said you can't stay!"

  I slammed the little book shut and the four guards were thrown backward, landing on their backs.

  The mayor turned around, staring at me.

  "What is this devilry?" I heard someone whisper as the mayor looked at me with shock on his face.

  "Get up, clutz" he said as he helped one guard to his feed and pushed him towards me. "Keep your feet about you and let's arrest her. Mam's got something cooking and I don't want to eat cold chicken."

  "Y-y-you arrest her," the tradesman said, stuttering as he stepped backwards. He tried to push someone in front of him, but tripped backwards over another guard who was still laying on the stone. None of the other guards seemed ready to get up and most of the crowd was pushing backwards away from me.

  Baxter's son stepped forward, holding his axe below the head and raising it above his head.

  "I'll arrest her," he said.

  The mayor stepped in front of him and said, "You'll do no such thing. You will not hurt her." He kicked at the guards. "Come on, you, get up and do your job."

  Two of the guards got to their feet and stood at the mayor's side, though they were swaying somewhat and kept looking back as if deciding whether or not to run.

  "Show us your hands," one of the guards said.

  "Don't worry," the mayor said, "we're not gonna hurt you as long as you do as you're told."

 

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