“Ha. Well, there’s a recording of my entire life back in the city,” Marcus said bitterly. “You should have started there.”
“Nah, that’s rubbish,” Kendra said, navigating around a stray cabbage. “I believe in.. authorial intent. The mind that made and saw those movements. I’d much rather get the goss from – what do they say? From the horse’s mouth? Why do they say that? Isn’t it kind of insulting? I mean, no offense to horses, but I don’t see what man stands to gain in comparison, unless, it’s, well, y’know..”
“I don’t,” Marcus said, puncturing this sudden tangent before it could roll any further out of control. “And I don’t care either. Look, you were there yesterday when your boss almost put a hit out on me. I’m only here because I don’t have a choice, because you people are desperate enough to gamble on the potential saviour angle, on a ‘connection’ that means nothing. If you honestly think that I’m going to save the day, then I don’t know what to tell you.”
“I don’t know about that,” Kendra said, shrugging. “I don’t know if I trust in fate and destiny and an indefatigable determinism that lights the paths we’re meant to tread.. but I do trust the Master, and I believe she trusts in you. In the end, Marcus, if all you do is all that you can do, well at least you did something. But will you?”
“But will I what?” Marcus asked, lost in a labyrinth of words.
“Will you do something?” Kendra asked, more vehemently this time.
“I don’t know!” Marcus said urgently, not entirely sure of the direction the conversation was taking. “We have no idea what’s ahead of us, how can we plan for it? I’d like to say I’ll contribute in some way, but to be honest your people seem more than qualified to take care of this. I’ll be quite content to let this all play out from the sidelines, then go back to normality.”
“Yes,” Kendra said, “you must miss your normality.”
Marcus gave her a sharp look, but her expression was a picture of twinkly-eyed innocence. Intentionally barbed or not, her statement had shot a spike through his gut. Memories of his pre-Mirrorworld existence, from the last time he’d truly had a handle on ‘normal’, rose up, reminded him of why he’d so hated to remember them, and sped away again, leaving behind the simple message that normality – how he’d lived it, at least – wasn’t quite as desirable as he might like to think. A long march towards a high probability of painful death might not be the most fun thing ever, but in terms of life plans it was a solid step up from ‘wasting away in a pit of dourness, depression and drink’. It was a daft thought, and a dark one, but somehow it bought Marcus a measure of good cheer.
“Aw, I’ll take that!” Kendra said, in response to the small smile that crept across his face. “I knew you had some sparkle in your sad face somewhere.” She squeezed his shoulder, bestowed another sunbeam into his safe-keeping, and jogged on ahead. After a moment, she turned back. “The charm of adventure,” she called, “and the chance to save the world.”
“What?” Marcus asked.
“That’s why I’m here,” she explained. “Since you forgot to ask.”
Grinning again, she turned away, and went to talk to Musk about something. Marcus was left alone again, bewildered but still slightly better. At least one person, it seemed, had some faith in him.
Inspired by having had a successful conversation, Marcus decided to shoot for a repeat performance, and so caught up to where Lucin was walking next to Fervesce. Distant sounds of an argument floated back to them from up ahead, where Musk and the Assassin were now engaged in debate.
“Hey,” Marcus said. Lucin, who was walking with his eyes closed for some reason, didn’t respond immediately. After a moment, he opened his eyes, a small motion that he somehow made seem like the most exhausting thing in the world, and directed them in a glare towards Marcus, who sighed.
“What have I done?” he asked.
“I was miles away,” Lucin said. “Literally. What do you want?”
“Just to talk,” Marcus said with a shrug, although he was already getting the feeling that this conversation wasn’t going to go very well. “What do you mean, literally miles away?”
“Musk told me to look on ahead to Plumm, to check on our supplies and make sure everything will be alright when we get there. That’d be easy if I knew anything about where they were supposed to be, and riding around in people’s heads makes me tired. And groggy. Do you know how many times I’ve almost fallen over in the last five minutes, walking along blind like this?”
“You’re blind?” Marcus asked, surprised.
“No, I’m not,” the man snapped. “I can always see, but when I’m looking out of someone else’s eyes I can hardly be looking out of my own as well, can I? Imagine how useful that would be, to see a town on the horizon cross-referenced with this lovely view of Musk’s shuffling buttocks. Pah.”
“You don’t seem a very happy man, Lucin,” Marcus wisely noted.
“Well neither do you, Marcus, but I don’t feel any need to inform you of that.”
“I think you just did.”
“Yes, I did. Why don’t you go and bother Musk? I’m sure he’d appreciate it.”
Marcus hesitated, caught off-guard by a twinkle in the eye and a certain set to the head that suggested dark mischief in the smaller man. “Why?”
Lucin, unexpectedly, broke out into peels of wheezing laughter. “Because,” the man said, between breaths, “and he hates this, which is brilliant, but, for as long as we’re on this ridiculous suicide mission, well, you’re his appointed second. So why don’t you go and give him a few tips about how to look less of an idiot?”
Marcus was so surprised he stopped walking. Lucin didn’t, so after a moment of processing Marcus was forced to break into a jog to catch up to him. “What?”
“Oh man. Are you an idiot? Look, cowboy, any Viaggiatori mission has a designated leader, and each leader has a designated second. The leader has absolute power, but their second is capable of objecting to any decisions they make. They can’t be overruled outright, but they can be forced to put actions to a vote with the rest of the group. This is the sort of thing that saves lives when people make a bad judgement call. And of course, if a bad judgement call means the leader gets blown up, their second gets an instant field promotion. Did you get that? Shall I say it again with less syllables?”
“I got it, thanks,” Marcus growled. “But, why me? I’m not even a Viaggiatori!”
“Hell if I know. Because the Master wanted to support your burgeoning leadership skills? I doubt it, somehow. Because she likes a good joke? Could be. Because she’s completely mad? Also likely. Ask her yourself, if you make it back alive.”
“Wait.. Eira did this?”
“Do you think he’s found out, yet?” Eustace asked.
“If not, he will do soon enough,” Eira said happily, sinking back into her chair. Eustace had popped by to let her know that the strike team had successfully departed the city, and in her utter desperation for good news even this little fact had cheered her up. “I made sure Lucin heard me telling Musk, and if any aspect of that man’s personality is reliable, it’s his affinity towards causing trouble. It’s practically guaranteed.”
Eustace nodded sagely in agreement. “But why did you do it? I didn’t really think Marcus had much inclination towards leadership if it didn’t involve leading himself somewhere quiet and safe.”
“Well, yes, you might be right,” Eira conceded, putting her feet up very pointedly on the small note that the council had sent her requesting an update. “His psychologist didn’t give me a glowing report either. But I had three very important reasons. First,” she said, holding up a finger, “who else could I have given it to? The Assassin can’t be trusted, Kendra is a wild card, Lucin even worse, and Fervesce spends most of the time asleep. Plus, a healthy regard for one’s own skin might just help temper any dangerously over-confident plans Musk comes up with. You know what he’s like, he doesn�
��t always think of non-brute force approaches. Not that that hasn’t worked for him so far.”
“Was that one reason or two?” Eustace asked, settling himself opposite Eira.
“It was one, I just added a bit. Reason two is that this entire endeavour is a gamble against huge odds. We have no idea what they might find out there, or what will happen, but we do know that something about Marcus makes him important in some way, and if a little authority might help bring it out of him, then I’ll take that as a possible advantage, however unlikely it may be.”
“Alright,” Eustace said, graciously accepting a cup of the coffee Eira had just poured. “And the third reason?”
“The third reason is that..” Eira paused, sipped her own coffee, and grinned. “The third reason is that the thought of the look on his face when he finds out makes me giggle.”
“Of course Eira did it,” Lucin said, rolling his eyes. “Musk is hardly likely to have appointed you himself, is he? You see, he’s all about the physical strength, not only in action but planning. He doesn’t need a back-up. Whatever plan he devises, I’ll give you good odds right now that it will begin and end with ‘charge!’” Lucin hesitated, but when Marcus didn’t take him up on it, he sighed and carried on. “So maybe we’ll get to see some of your judgement calls, eh? Why not. Go cause some chaos. It’s what I’d have done if the position had been given to me.. which is probably why the position wasn’t given to me. Ha.” The short man grinned, in a highly malevolent manner. His bird squawked knowingly.
Marcus dropped back to walk by himself again, head swimming. Well, this surely explained Musk’s newly frosty attitude, even if the man had displaced his fears of usurpation onto the more threatening figure of the Assassin.. yes, that was about right. Life in the Mirrorworld, it seemed, was full of surprises, and now Eira had dropped another one on him. It was a testament to her skill and veracity that she was capable of making life more difficult for him even when she wasn’t actually there.
16
Plumm’s main gate was a beautiful, pointless affair. It was tall, wooden and foreboding, with a stone frame peppered with flaring lanterns and the town’s name in large red and yellow lettering across the top. Unfortunately the general effect was somewhat diminished by the fact that the town didn’t have any walls, compromising the structure’s defensive utility in how anyone looking to invade could just walk around them. Nonetheless, the gates swung open dramatically to mark the Viaggiatori’s arrival, and Marcus walked through them with an appropriate level of humble awe, wondering exactly what it was they had in here that could justify them.
As the group moved through the streets, Lucin pointing the way towards the inn where they’d be staying the night, Marcus couldn’t help but be disappointed. He concluded quickly that Plumm was a definite downgrade from Portruss; in the latter city, it was almost impossible to take a step without becoming entangled in a debate with someone else who’d taken the same step coming from the other direction and crashed into you. Portruss buzzed like a hive, whilst Plumm buzzed like a tired bee, spiralling through the sky en route to an emergency landing on a nearby flower. Even here on the main street, there were very few people about. A few blocks over to the right, a bright neon glow battled with the increasing darkness for control of the sky, and snippets of faint music floated from the alleyways that led off in that direction. There was light and life somewhere, at least, but it wasn’t here.
The name of the inn they were staying at turned out to be The Last Waltz, a creaky, shambolic motel glitzed up with fairy lights that only made it look more tragic. Musk paused their group just outside the tiny, dirty reception office. “Alright lady and gentlemen,” he said, “is everybody listening?”
Marcus leant forward, hugging his staff; whatever arcane force powered it had adjusted it to a perfect height for him to rest his head against it and look petulantly tired. To his left, the Assassin stood, similarly slouching. On his immediate right, Kendra appeared to be listening attentively. Lucin and Fervesce made up the circle on her far side, the one staring blankly and the other with eyes still closed, somehow attentive even in sleep. Marcus decided to keep an eye on him.
“Okay,” Musk said wearily. “Here we are in Plumm. We only have two rooms with three beds apiece for the night, so you’ll have to go forgo privacy, Kendra. Sorry.” The woman only shrugged. “Fine. Now, once we’ve checked in, feel free to do whatever you want with yourselves – we are meant to be here looking into strange activity, so I recommend taking a walk and looking curious for the sake of our cover. Still, I won’t pretend to command that you do exactly as I say; I’ll leave it with you. Just make sure you come back tonight, because we’re leaving early in the morning, and I won’t have anyone moaning about lack of sleep. Alright?” There was a murmur of assent. Musk relaxed, and went to butt heads with the receptionist regarding the state of their rooms.
Marcus ended up sharing with Fervesce and Kendra, since Musk and the Assassin both claimed the larger, cleaner room, and Musk wanted Lucin on side to scout the city with his magic eyeballs. The former three were thus sent to the room next door, which had a higher population of miscellaneous insects than it did human residents. Marcus spent a few minutes playing whack-a-mole with the beasties lurking in his mattress, trying not to choke on the mushroom cloud of dust that each hit sent fountaining into the air, whilst Kendra made herself at home and Fervesce collapsed face-first onto his bed despite the state of it. After a while, Marcus sat down on the edge of the bed, exhausted, and was relieved to not immediately feel anything crawling around underneath him.
“This town is horrible,” he said forlornly to no-one in particular. Kendra had gone outside to sit on the porch, and Fervesce had already proven himself not much of a conversationalist. Nonetheless, this was the first moment Marcus had found himself alone with the man, so he decided to undertake an investigation. Full of resolve, he spun around to face Fervesce and said hello. There was no response. He leant forward and poked the man gently.
Stop that, said a voice in his head.
Marcus froze, finger still pointed treacherously outwards.
Ahem, hello? The disembodied voice continued. Can you hear me? If so, don’t poke me.
A few seconds passed wherein Marcus very slowly retracted his finger.
Oh good, I guess you can. Okay. Hello. I’m Fervesce. Or rather I’m not. I am an automated message left by Fervesce in case anyone attempts to wake me from my current state of shutdown. Message continues: stop doing that. I am currently running at 15% capacity in order to pre-emptively take care of any exhaustion that will come about from a severe exertion of my psychic abilities, so please do not further attempt to awaken or converse with me, lest you actively desire to jeopardise this expedition. You punk. Thank you, this message will now shut down and be replaced with a far less polite one if you poke me again.
Marcus decided to go outside. He wandered out onto the porch and sat down heavily next to Kendra, who was stretching out and leaning back, staring over the rooftops towards the lights of the town. As he fell into place next to her she glanced at him. “Y’alright?”
“I was just insulted by a voice in my head,” he said blankly. “All I did was poke an old man.”
“Oh, Fervesce? Yeah, that happens. Good, isn’t it?”
“He said he needed sleep. For his ‘psychic abilities’.”
Kendra glanced at him again from around the angles of her characteristic head tilt. “No need to be like that. He really does have psychic powers.”
“I can believe that,” Marcus said, doodling inattentively in the sandy dirt underfoot. “It’s the fact that he said he was taking care of the exhaustion he’ll feel after by going to sleep before that got me.”
“Ah, our Talents work in mysterious ways,” Kendra said with affected wisdom, staring off into the distance. “Ways that makes no sense, usually. Musk can make himself stronger or weaker at will. That doesn’t make any sense. Still, it’s handy st
uff. Which is the point, really..”
“I feel like I’m missing something here,” Marcus said as she trailed off. “Have you all got these ‘talents’, then?” After a few moments of silence in which Kendra continued to stare blankly ahead, Marcus felt moved to repeat himself, and waved his hand in front of her eyes.
“Hello,” she said with a smile. “What’s up?”
Marcus contented himself with repeating his question again.
Kendra nodded. “Yeah we all have them. Musk’s you already know. Lucin’s I think you do – the eye thing.” She ticked them off on her fingers. “Fervesce is he of the incredible psychic ability which means he can pretty much do anything if he sleeps for long enough beforehand – I know, I know, don’t ask. The Assassin has his magical resilience which is the whole reason we’re here. And then there’s me. And you,” she added, raising a finger on her other hand.
“What’s your – wait, me?”
“Yup. We get our Talents from the Mirrorline, you know. Everyone who passes through gets marked by it with some new toy, for better or worse. We’re all here because we’ve got the most useful stuff for this situation, but, well, you got dragged over from Earth, and though you might not be here for the same reasons we are – did you figure that out yet? – doesn’t matter. Point is, you crossed the Mirrorline just like we did, so you’ve definitely got some of our magic jazz in you!”
Marcus stared at his hands, which were now covered in dirt from the surrealist masterpiece he’d carved into the ground underfoot. “I don’t recall feeling any different.”
“You probably won’t,” Kendra said, rocking back and forth on the edge of the porch. “Until you do. Don’t try and predict it, it could literally be anything. Friend of mine back home can instantly boil water, very handy, doesn’t save the world at all. The only thing that comes close to making sense about Talents is that they always get stronger the more you Linewalk. Fervesce, he’s been at it for decades, so he can melt you with his mind. Pretty cool, huh?”
Mirrorworld Page 21
