Rojan Dizon 03 - Last to Rise (13 page)

She got up and paced across a delicate silk rug, done in patterns that twined in her favourite green and gold. “Going to try what?”

“Erlat, can you stop? You’re making me dizzy. And I’m not really sure yet, except try to rearrange part of the machine up to the lab. That might bugger them up a bit. Nothing to worry about. Look, would you mind if we talked about something else?”

Because right then it was the last thing I wanted to talk about, or think about, because I was scared to the point of pissing myself at what I’d agreed to.
Suggested.
I should really learn to shut the fuck up when I thought I had a good idea.

Peace was what I wanted, a respite from the ever-present fear, a respite that I’d only ever found in two places. Here at Erlat’s, and in the black. That’s why it called to me, why I listened. Only it could give me no fear for the rest of my life, and it was tempting. Maybe that’s why I never heard the black here at Erlat’s – it had less purchase on me because I had no fear here either. Maybe.

She smiled, but it looked slick and fake and I was sure there’d be more later, more questions, more worry. I couldn’t blame her – half the city was stiff with fear. The other half just didn’t realise how bad things were. But for now I just wanted to sleep and maybe, hopefully, not dream. At least, asleep, I could pretend I wasn’t almost pissing myself wondering what I’d got myself into. But I was too jittery for sleep, and so was Erlat.

“Let’s talk about something else,” I said in the end. “You, perhaps.”

A laugh burst out of her, trailing off into little giggles when she saw I was serious. “What, Rojan Dizon, walking advert for the male ego, wants to talk about something other than himself? Oh, I love it when you make me laugh.”

It was hard to be offended when she was right, and that’s why I loved going there.

And there, just as it had sneaked up on me, threatened to drown me, it all went away. I was at Erlat’s, drinking tea, and she was laughing at me, with me, poking fun and teasing, and everything else was very far away. It was almost as good as sleep.

As always, Erlat knew what to say, how to get me out of my own head. I tried to do the same for her, told a few scathing and sarcastically drawn stories to make her laugh some more. That laugh did wonders for me, it always had. Showed me just how ridiculous I was. We ignored the boom-shudders and forgot the world outside, just for a few hours.

We only touched on the rest once, when Erlat said with sudden seriousness, “Sometimes you scare me. What the hell do I do with a man who won’t let me seduce him?” She tried to laugh, but it came out wrong and she tried to cover it with more words. “What are you scared of, Rojan?”

“You seducing me” brought a smile, but that night… it was a rare thing for me. A time when I felt I could be as truthful as true gets. Something about sitting there with Erlat, drinking tea like we didn’t have a care in the world, like the Storad weren’t at the gates and nothing was wrong, even though everything was wrong. Something about the way she looked at me, and how just being there knocked me sideways so I almost wasn’t me. Maybe this was what templegoers felt when they went to confess their sins to the priests. “Screwing it up, that’s what I’m scared of. Failing when people are relying on me. That part scares me witless, because I am world-class at screwing it up.”

What I didn’t say, because there are some truths that are too true to be said out loud, was that I was coming to realise that that was why I was in love with Jake. Partly because I admired her – I loved the way she fought back against every crappy thing life had thrown at her, had scratched and clawed to get a hint of happiness, wouldn’t, couldn’t give up. But also I was beginning to see that I wouldn’t make a play for her, and not just because of Pasha, because he was my friend and I couldn’t do it to him, even if I’d had a hope in hell. That was my excuse, but it wasn’t the reason. If I couldn’t or wouldn’t try, I wouldn’t fail, wouldn’t bugger it up in my usual style. She was safe to be in love with.

Erlat said nothing, and I was glad because I didn’t want to think about it any more, the prospect of failing. Instead she smiled a secret little smile, poured more tea and changed the subject.

Maybe confession is good for the soul after all, because the next thing I recall is Erlat shaking me, and me all but falling off the lounger with treacle for brains and what felt like a slug for a tongue.

“You do say some strange things while you’re asleep,” she said while I tried to remember which way was up. An odd tone to her voice that I couldn’t quite pin down.

I got myself arranged in something like normal order, and realised I actually felt halfway to decent, bar the ever-present hollow ache in my belly. “Like what?”

She didn’t answer but made herself busy with hot water and tea, with setting out two plates on the low table. I steeled myself for grey mush, but it wasn’t too bad. At least it had the texture of real food, even if it tasted like ashes. At that point it was almost luxury.

“Good thing I didn’t have any more clients booked,” she said. “You snoring and whiffling on about Jake would have quite put them off their stroke.”

I could feel the blush starting round my ears, but I didn’t even get the chance to defend myself, because Erlat was clearly enjoying this.

“Didn’t even have the decency to share my bed. Of course, you’d be ruined for other women then. Maybe that’s why, hmm? Or you’re just scared. I bet that’s it.”

She was chattering – not like her, too quick, too smooth, covering up some nameless fear perhaps. Even so, there was a possibility my face might boil off in embarrassment – hell, even talking about what I was going to be doing in an hour or two, creeping behind enemy lines, exposing myself to crap-only-knew-what, seemed preferable. Actually, right then, Namrat turning up and offering to eat my soul seemed preferable to talking about why I wouldn’t take Erlat to bed.

She raised an eyebrow, obviously waiting for an answer. And maybe it was the way she’d said it, or that I wanted to think about pretty much anything apart from down there, outside the gates, in a
war
, for fuck’s sake – that made me blurt out something close to the truth.

“I’m scared, that’s it.”

Of course I regretted it as soon as I’d said it, because she cocked her head on one side like a little bird and waited for me to go on.

I wasn’t going to let her fool me that way. There were things I would rather die than say, and that was one.

“Lise has built a new machine,” I said instead. “Like my pistol, only bigger. Could really help, a lot. Only Perak won’t let us use it.”

She laughed at my obvious tactic, but didn’t push things and took up my strand of thought. “Why not?”

“Too dangerous. Lise says she’s not sure what it’ll do to the mage in question.”

“Then Perak’s right.”

“Maybe. And maybe we should try it anyway. If the Storad get in, it won’t be one mage we’ll be worrying about. It’s everyone.”

Erlat began clearing the plates and cups away. “Ah yes, but it’s you he’s worried about.”

“Then why exactly am I due to go down there, right in among a load of Storad? I’d rather risk the machine, thanks for asking. Lise is pretty good at machines. I am crap at sneaking about in the middle of a group of men with guns who would all like to shoot me.”

Then it was time to go, and it was strange. I had this odd sense of weight in my stomach, a dread of leaving, of thinking that if I left now it would be too late to say or do any of things I needed too. Only… only I didn’t know what the hell those things were, I only knew that they were scaring me badly.

Erlat was odd too, more nervy than I think I’d ever seen her. She seemed half about to say something, then changed her mind and saw me off with a luscious smile and a soft “Come back.”

I couldn’t help thinking that, if that was it, the last time I saw her, I’d missed some golden opportunity, missed some cue in our conversation that would have perhaps made me see what I was supposed to see.

I stepped out into the frigid air of the Buzz, watched my breath freeze in a cloud in front of me and pushed it all away. Whatever it was, I’d have time, lots of time, to figure out later.

I made it back down to the ’Pit without screaming in the lift, which counted as a win. Perak’d had all the blocked-off tunnels marked on the map, and there was just one left that led Outside. Well, one we knew about other than the booby-trapped one, which I really wasn’t going to risk. “Fingers crossed” isn’t really a good tactic in anything other than kids’ games, let alone a war, but it seemed about all we had.

Luckily, said tunnel wasn’t anywhere near the bad memories encased in a room of broken glass in the heart of the keep. Instead Pasha, Halina and I found ourselves at an innocuous building near to the inner wall of the castle. If the piles of fossilised crap were anything to go by, this had once been stables. Or maybe those piles counted as art for our illustrious ancestor.

A half-dozen guards eyed us suspiciously and came towards us with that look I’d come to know so well – the “I-don’t-like-you-so-I-think-I’ll-arrest-you” look. Quite satisfying to show them the official bit of paper that said they weren’t allowed to, see the look of smug superiority bleed off their faces as they realised that no, we weren’t just some scum from Under they could do what they wanted with.

They were all as tense as hell, if the way their shoulders were up round their ears was anything to go by, and I couldn’t blame them. There wasn’t much between them and an invading army, just ingenuity and a hidden tunnel that might not be hidden for long. Worse, Perak’s note indicated that some of them would be coming along for a little rearguard action.

Bizarrely, the smell of cooking food was everywhere, strong enough to send me mad with it, make my stomach growl like Namrat. I shook my head. Ridiculous, but that didn’t stop me smelling it. Maybe Dench was using it as a form of torture – I wouldn’t have put it past the bastard. Actually, I wouldn’t have put anything past him, up to and including tap-dancing through the gates dressed in nothing but a hat and a modestly placed hand, if he thought it would give him an edge. He never liked to lose. Who does?

Like most of the other tunnels I’d seen, this one started, or finished, no wider than your average man. The walls either side were sheer and slick, except where handy little holes, far above where any man could reach, allowed arrows or guns to poke through; larger holes had boulders teetering on the edge, relics of a simpler kind of warfare. Ones that gave me a tickle of an idea, which I saved for later.

We looked at each other in the near-dark, and wondered what the hell we were doing. Well,
I
did anyway. One day I will learn to keep my stupid mouth shut, I really will.

It should have been a rare and magical experience, my first time Outside. But the prospect before me, of getting close enough to all those Storad who would quite like to see me publicly executed, big and mean, with bigger, meaner-looking weapons, put rather a crimp on it. I reminded myself that this was my suggestion, and all I could come up with in response was a new rule: stop making stupid suggestions that might get you killed.

We took the tunnel, left the guards about halfway along where they could come and rescue us if it all went tits up (or scarper, more likely). After that it was just Pasha, Halina and me, nice and quiet. Secret. Pasha’s sort of magic had a few very useful applications in a situation like this, especially as I made Halina take the lamp and had him listening at all times. No repeat of last time. This time we’d come prepared with a plan. I like to think I learn from my mistakes.

Being able to look through people’s brains had its advantages. Especially when a quick rummage could lead to a small suggestion to any guards who might be lurking that, you know, there aren’t really three people sneaking past. Honest.

Of course, if that was all, it would have been too easy and if the Goddess exists I’m fairly sure she makes it her personal mission to ensure my life is as complicated as possible.

Once we got close, I had Halina douse the lamp and we felt our way forward. The tunnel led right behind the Storad camp, out into a gully full of broken rocks and moss and shadows. The entrance was hidden among a tangle of broken mountains and stunted trees, the tunnel so narrow and bent here that from the outside it looked like just another bit of rock.

Dench knew the tunnels were there somewhere, if not the exact locations of all of them. Dench was not stupid. He’d once been head of the Specials, and he knew tactics like I knew the ten best ways to talk a woman into bed. Shame, really: would have made the whole day go a lot better if he hadn’t.

So I was pretty sure he’d figure we’d try something – Pasha’s rummages, what little he could do over the range, had said as much. Dench knew at least in part what Pasha and I were capable of, so he had to expect we’d try something like this, if not exactly when or where. Plus, the last time we’d tried the tunnels… yeah. It made the whole journey an exercise in simultaneously looking for every possible way he could try to stop us, and trying not to overthink it. Because if I thought about it too much, I could recall just how pissed off Dench must be with me, and what he’d do to me if he found me. It was not a comforting thought, so I didn’t think it.

Instead, we made our quiet way to the end of the tunnel, easy enough thanks to Pasha making sure no one was ahead the whole time. Calmed my nerves just a tad, especially if I forgot how he’d said those Storad before had been muffled somehow.

One step out of the tunnel, and there it was. Outside. Mythical, denied, a dream of what else life could be. Real. It might have been worth the weight of duty on my shoulders just for the feel of it. Open air. No buildings looming over me, no long drop beneath me to shiver my nerves. The sky, right there above me with nothing to block the moon but clouds; no criss-crossing walkways to hem me in. The pass above us, with vague humped shadows lurking – the new machines, with half an army camped beside them.