Evan Burl and the Falling, Vol. 1-2 (3 page)

"It's Henri now? You two must be closer than I realized."

"Shut up. She's too old for you anyway."

I stared out on the world as we climbed higher and higher. Daemanhur sits on a cliff's edge, high above the Leschi Sea which fills the northern horizon. A hundred foot wall encircles the courtyard, with houses and shops and passages built inside it. The wall runs close to the castle on the uphill, western side and stretches for nearly a mile down the slopes to the east in the direction of the harbor and a docktown called Queen Anne where a few hundred shipmen and their families live. That city was dying too. Mazol said it used to be home to ten thousand, long before I was born. But the jungles were growing more dangerous. Every week, more people left on north-bound ships and never returned.
 

Soon, Queen Anne would be like Daemanhur's forgotten city. Thousands of people might have lived inside the walls around our castle at one point, but Mazol said they all left a long time ago. Then he told me to leave him alone, and I didn't see him for hours.
 

A creek runs under the wall next to the smaller castle gate and passes through the abandoned city. It keeps the lake full year round, but most of the fish are too bony to eat. The creek runs out the lower side of the city, joining a large river just above Queen Anne. That's where the deliveries come from. An armored car pulled by eight huge horses and a band of hired guards brings us the supplies we need every week. The guards smell like beer and body odor and they swear a lot—but the one who's in charge is different. Dravus. He talks to me sometimes, while they're unloading the carts in the East Gatehouse. Dravus has been asking me to let him inside the walls. He said he wants to see the city. I haven't yet; Mazol said no one's allowed, but I might sneak him in someday. Dravus said he'll teach me magic tricks, maybe even my letters.

I thought about the book and the few words I understood. I wondered if Pike would read it to me. I wondered if I wanted him to know what it said.

It took another half hour for us to reach the top. Crawling over the eaves, we scampered up the ancient clay tiles to the roof ridge, placing our weight slowly as to not slip. Sitting on the ridge, we caught our breath. I pulled the chest off my shoulder.

Pike pointed at words engraved above the lock. "Rosling Corporation, Since 845"
 

"What do you think it means?"

"Maybe that's what they're called," Pike said. "Roslings."

I wondered if Henri had ever been to a city. Traded in a marketplace. Sailed on a ship. Maybe she could tell me what life was like outside the walls. I traced my fingers along the ice cold, rough-edged ironwork. "Do you think we could have come to the castle in caskets like these?"

"It's possible, I suppose."

"I've never seen any pictures or heard anything about caskets falling from the sky."
 

Pike eyed the chest in my hands. "I don't think it's normal."

"What if everything in the pictures is made up? Do you think there are other cities? What if we're the only people alive?
 

"There's Queen Anne."

"What if that's the only city left?"

"Where do the ships come from then?"

"I don't know, but I mean, doesn't it bother you? Everything we need is delivered to the gatehouse each week. Why can't we go to town and buy it ourselves?"

"You wouldn't survive outside the walls for five minutes."

"The runners do."
 

"They're trained. Got armor and a whole caravan and proper protection."

"But still, don't you wonder if this is real? I mean, we could be dreaming right now and not even know it."

"We ain't dreaming."

"How do you know?"

"I'm two years older than you. That's how."

I slid the book from my pocket, stooping over to keep off the rain.

Pike leaned toward me. "What's that?"

"This is why your father's gonna whip me."

He held out his finger to touch it. "Is it real?"

"Not sure."

"Imagine if we sold it? We'd be rich."

"I'm not trading it."

"Why'd you steal it then?"

"I don't remember stealing it."

Pike raised an eyebrow at me.
 

"There's something in here... I think Mazol's afraid that I might read it." The words ran through my mind, burned into my skull. I tried to ignore them.

Pike tried to grab it away from me. "You don't know your letters."
 

"I know my name." And a few other words. Like monster. I tucked the book under my belt and stared out into the fog of rain and mist. The moon appeared in a hole in the clouds, disappeared again before I spoke again. "Do you ever wonder where you fit in?"

"Like, what I want to be when I grow up?"

"If the whole world is a huge puzzle, where does your piece fit?"

"I don't know... far as I can see, I'm probably staying, help my father run Daemanhur. At least we're safe from the jungle here."

"I want my life to matter. I want to help people."

"Then help people."

"It's not that simple."

"Why not?"

"Because you have a father."

"What's that got to do with anything?"
 

"If I had a father, he'd show me how to be a good person."
 

"My father helps you."

"He wishes it was just the two of you."

"I don't think so."

I paused, the words from the book burning the insides of my eyes. "It's more than that. Remember the story Mazol tells. About how the castle's haunted?"

"About the shadow who roams the halls? He just trying to scare us."

"I heard those two men talking about it. Said people in town knew the story too. That people are afraid of coming up here. That's why we never get no visitors."

"We don't get no visitors because of the jungles."

"But what if there really is a monster living here? Mazol said the monster strangled my mother."

"Think we'd've spotted it by now."

"Unless..." I stared at the book.

"We should go," Pike said. "Father's gonna be burning angry."
 

"You're the
son
. You won't get in trouble."

"I'll tell him I didn't see you. Do you have enough food in the Elusian to stay hidden for a while?"
 

My eyes drifted to the corner of two roof peaks where a trap door was hidden. It led to a room I called the Elusian, an attic hidden in the rafters of the castle that Mazol didn't know about. "What if that's where the monster hides?"

"What're you talking about?"

I thrust the book into Pike's hands. "I don't think Mazol was making up stories about shadows."

Pike flipped through the pages, shielding it from the rain. Most were blank, except the first few.
 

I leaned over his shoulder. "Can you make it out?"

He studied a line, his lips moving a little. My heart beat so loud I wondered if Pike could hear.
 

"Well?" I said.

"I'm working on it." A moment later, he folded the book shut.

"What?" I said.

Jumping up, he slipped a little on the wet tiles. I reached out to steady him, but he flinched at my touch. His arm trembled.

"What is it?" I said.

He stared into the masked sky above the crashing waves far below. "You don't want to know."

"It's about me."

He turned away.

"From my parents, isn't it?" I said. "I saw my name. I saw the word... monster."
 

His eyes met mine. "I'll read it. But you ain't gonna like what you hear."

CHAPTER FOUR

Pike held the book close to his face, tracing his fingers along the letters as he read.

"Salve Xry Mazol,

"Until today, I never realized how foolish it was to allow Evan Burl to live.

"I had hoped, of course, that he might slowly grow strong, at a pace that matched his ability to handle the increasing power. And then, in time, he would have carried on in my place, keeping sapience in check, ensuring no one abused the power for their own gain.

"Of course, it was always possible the boy was only a minor sapient, capable of little more than a street magician. But alas, I fear now that he is neither a minor sapient nor capable of handling the sapience that soon will be thrust on him.

"Rather, I now believe it's highly probable he will become the most powerful sapient this world has ever known. Far stronger than me, or any of the three Cultures. If this is true, and because of the unique circumstances that surround the boy (partially due to my tinkering, I admit) it's likely he will grow not just deadly, but pure evil.

"I'm submitting the boy's blood for a test, a process that will reveal who, or what, he really is. This is very advanced stuff, difficult to get right. Therefore, I expect the results of this test will take some time. In fact, the boy may come of age before I can contact you again.
 

"Unless you hear from me, go through with the plan as I've previously instructed, with one exception. You will have to be much more aggressive now. The Spider alone may not be enough. If you have the ember, as I expect you do, that should save you. I would demand that you kill him now, but I still hold out hope that I'm wrong. Sometimes I meddle too much. Sometimes it's better to let the game play out. By the time the code in this letter reads zero, we'll know the truth, one way or another."

Pike stopped reading and scanned me. I wasn't sure if he was worried about how I'd react, or if he was afraid of what I might do to him. I stared out over the mournful dead city; trees growing out of the tops of buildings and in the streets and the strangling vines wrapped around the bones of all that was left behind by the ones who lived here long ago. I traced my eyes along the circle of longgrass around the castle, thinking about how nothing grew within a hundred feet of Daemanhur's foundations. What were the plants so scared of? The castle? Or the darkness that lived inside it? "What's the Spider?" I said.

He shook his head, turning to the page.
 

"Is there a surer sign of our changing times than this? Terillium Amadeus, afraid. Of a child, no less.

"He may appear to be a normal boy while he's young, but when he comes of age you will not recognize the monster Evan Burl becomes. You will watch the evil grow in him during his last year. And watch him carefully, because he must be stopped before too much strength resides inside him.

"If things go ill, and if the boy survives, remember this: no one will be spared. Not after the falling.

"Our only hope is that I'm wrong.

"Fortunatos and good luck, Terillium."

"6 years, 11 days until the falling."

A long silence followed. I thought about the dream. The falling. My bones turning to dust. Maybe, at the end of the falling, the part when I always close my eyes, maybe that's when Evan Burl dies and the terror is born. Maybe the monster is already inside me. Growing. Maybe he only comes out when I'm asleep. Maybe that's when the beasts come out to play.
 

Pike seemed to read my mind. "Father's just trying to scare you. He must have known you would find the book."

"The man who wrote this, Terillium, I think he's my father."

Pike put the book into his pocket. "We better get going."

"That's mine," I said, grabbing at it, but my foot slipped and I fell backward, pulling him with me. We slid down the pitch, bringing a few loose tiles with us. I scrambled for a grip, but every tile I touched broke loose. My hand caught on a nail just high enough to get my fingers around. My body swung sideways as I pulled Pike away from the roof edge. Spreading my legs and arms, I managed to support my weight without knocking any more tiles loose.

After a few heavy breaths, I said, "Almost forgot we're three hundred feet above the ground." I risked a glance down at the waving field of longgrass, an emerald ocean, but bone-crushing hard. Pike's body shook, but I was stone steady. I was convinced that if I ever needed to, I'd learn to fly. Birds learn to fly by jumping from their nests. Why couldn't I? Maybe that's what happens in my dreams right after I close my eyes. I learn to fly. Maybe I never hit the ground.
 

Pike breathed out. Laughed one strange 'ha' that was humorless. "You're going to kill me someday."

"Yeah," I said, echoing his fake laugh. "You might be right." Inside I thought about what monsters do. They kill.
 

"Let's go." Shifting, I put my knee on the tile, but it was too much weight and the tile broke loose. My leg slipped out from under me and I hit the roof. Three more tiles broke free. Pike tried to stop me, but he fell too. Our hands clasped together, but I couldn't stop sliding. Our bodies rolled over the edge of the roof. The leather book caught in the eave. Letting go of his hand, I wrapped my fingers around a beam just in time. Pike caught the board next to me. We dangled in the air.
 

"I'm slipping," he cried.
 

I tried to catch my feet on a window ledge but wasn't quite tall enough to reach. I watched Pike's fingers slip off the wet clay and was just able to grab him with one hand. Groaning from the strain, I felt my fingers slipping. I heard something above us, sliding down the roof. A baby cried. The chest. I knew in that instant I would not be able to save them both.
 

The chest toppled over the side.

I felt Pike's fingers slipping from mine. My eyes locked with his. Then he was gone, plunged into the fog below. My fingers grasped at nothingness, as if I expected to pluck Pike from the night air. The casket whooshed past. I clenched at the grass sling, grasping it at the last possible moment. It swung beneath me like a clock's pendulum, smashing through the glass window in the topmost room of the tower. My hand slipped off the eve as the chest clanked onto the wood deck.

Was this the falling? Or a dream?
 

I saw a vision of a salty ocean shore and a cottage. Smoke rose from the chimney. Someone ringing the bell, calling me to come to dinner.