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.
Then I was drawn back to the tower, to the night. For a moment, I thought I was flying. This is how birds learn to fly, they fall first. I felt like I could hover in the air as long as I like. But this is not a dream. I'm just an orphan, and orphans cannot fly.
Evan Burl and the Falling, Vol. 1-2 Page 6