Mirrorworld (26 page)

“But, that’s not all,” Musk said slyly. “There is a contradiction in your orders. You can’t let them in, but you can’t
not
let us out. You can no longer carry on as you are.”

The guard’s brow furrowed as he processed this information.

“It occurs to me,” Musk continued, “that in this situation, you’ve no choice but to disappoint someone – either your boss or me. And while I’m sure your boss is quite fearsome, I feel I should point out that he isn’t here right now, whereas I, contrarily, am.” For punctuation, he rested his hand gently on the man’s shoulder. It wasn’t a gesture of violence, but it did inevitably draw attention to exactly how hefty the hands in question were at this moment of time. Marcus actually saw the guard glance down at his armour as if assessing how it might hold up against a blow from one of them.

“Alright,” the guard said, meeting Musk’s eyes at last. “Open the gate!”

This last was said louder, and produced a flurry of activity from the other guards in the vicinity as they moved into whatever preparations were required to ease the great gate into opening. Musk came striding back over to the rest of the group, wearing an expression of ultimate triumph. “Next stop, Plumm,” he said, his grin widening to the soundtrack of distant clangs and creaks and the piercing crunch of his knuckles as he began to crack them with idle self-importance.

“Where?” Marcus asked, and the grin vanished into a cold glare.

“Plumm is the next city to the north,” Musk told him, his voice cloaked in a sudden irritation that Marcus was sure he had done nothing to earn. “It is, as I already mentioned at length, where we’ll be stopping off to pick up our carriage and supplies for the rest of the journey, before going incognito. Please try to pay more attention.”

“Apologies, dear leader,” Marcus said, bowing with his palms together. “It’s certainly
my
fault that I’m not yet one hundred percent certain on the geography of an entire world that I only learnt existed a few days ago. I’ll try harder.”

Musk nodded, then frowned as he noticed the sudden deadpan poker faces that Kendra and Lucin were wearing. He turned back to Marcus suspiciously, but, before he could say anything, their attention in general was diverted by the laborious screech that marked the opening of North Gate.

The great iron portcullis that was its outermost layer had begun to retract upwards, loudly protesting its lack of oil as it retreated into an unknown space within the mass of surrounding stone. As it rose, the solid wall beyond it cracked and began to fold back on itself, offering a brief glimpse of many similar walls doing the same thing along the length of the gate tunnel. A floor slid in innocently, settled gently over the pit of sharpened stakes that lay beneath, and created a path through to the outside world that was now visible beyond the last retreating obstacles. It was like looking through the world’s largest keyhole; within the frames of the gate there lay an image of green fields rolling away to the far horizon, where mountains stood sentry at the edge of the sky. It was the Mirrorworld beyond Portruss, and the sight of it filled Marcus with an odd thrill, and a quiet, anticipatory fear.

The group was rushed through the gate quickly by a company of guards, who walked with weapons levelled to meet the threat that lay beyond. But no-one rushed them. It was only when they were clear of the gate that Marcus caught sight of the refugees, and they were a sorrowful bunch, sat by the sides of the road, staring, only half seeing, at such fools who would choose to depart from the safety of those walls for a less comfortable existence beyond. Marcus felt his fear twist with his thoughts, and it grew further as the guards retreated and the gate closed up again behind them.

“A sorry sight, aren’t they?” a quiet voice behind him asked. He turned, and found Kendra stood there, a sad, complicated expression echoing from her eyes. “They came so far, running from their fears, hoping to find a better life, and they found cold walls and no-one to care.”

“What did they fear?” Marcus asked, shivering. There was a beaten-down blankness to the refugees; they had the same faces as the folks he had seen in the various bars of his final Earthly bender, faces that barely concealed the empty hopelessness where life had sucked the soul out of them.

“Oh, all sorts of stuff,” Kendra said, suddenly enthused. “Death, famine, the destruction of their livelihoods, the knowledge that the careful framework they’ve built around their lives could be destroyed in an instant by a cruel spin of circumstance. The north has never been a good place to live, but when the choice is between staying the course, or giving up what little you have for an uncertain future outside the gates of a city that doesn’t want you, which do you choose?”

“I wouldn’t want to,” Marcus said.

“Well, maybe you should think about it,” Kendra said. She cocked her head on one side, studying him, solemn now. “You might have to make that decision, in the end. Well, anyway,” she continued, rebounding into good cheer, “don’t worry about these guys. Given time they’ll work their way around to East Gate, and they’ll find a home of sorts in the suburbs outside of the wall. Hopefully Keithus doesn’t have the same idea when he comes calling, hey?” Her expression split into a wide smile, lighting her face with warmth, and she turned and wandered off after the others, who were already making their way along the road away from the city. Bemused, Marcus followed.

For some time they walked along that road, each member of Eira’s strike team alone in the company of their thoughts. At the front of the column, the Assassin and Musk continued their silent battle for the honour of leading the way, the former in provocative jest and the latter with deadly seriousness. Behind them, Fervesce continued as he had so far that day, which was, apparently, by sleepwalking. Lucin walked with him, seemingly happy with company that not only acted as if you weren’t there but legitimately had no idea that you were present. Kendra had been strolling along by herself, speeding up and slowing down and occasionally glancing back to Marcus, who remained content at the back, trudging along, leaning on his staff, watching the fields slowly pass him by. Eventually she seemed to reach some internal resolution, and dropped back to walk alongside him.

“Hello,” she said.

“Hi,” Marcus said. “Again.”

“I thought I’d come and cheer you up,” she said, smiling a gentle sunbeam.

“That’s nice,” Marcus said, “but I’m actually ecstatically happy already.”

“Of course you are,” Kendra agreed. “That’s why you’re hanging out at the back, wearing the saddest face in the basket of faces and dragging yourself along as if your legs were thousand ton weights and every step required the strength of a falling star. Right?”

Marcus had to lean away from the pure deductive prowess of this statement.

“There’d actually something I’d quite like to ask you,” Kendra revealed, as he reeled.

“Fields,” Marcus said desperately. “I’m naturally depressed by the colour green.”

“I know you’re trying to deflect me with sarcasm,” Kendra told him, “and I dig it, but it’s not gonna work, because I can be really, really,
really
persistent. So you might as well just let me ask. Tell you what, I’ll let you ask the question of me in exchange. How about it?”

“Sure,” Marcus said, wondering how far away the end of this conversation was and how else he might be able to accelerate its arrival. “Ask away.”

“Amazing. Okay hang on, I want to make sure I get it right.” She appeared to think for a moment. “Cool. Ready?”

Marcus shrugged.

“Alright shrug-face, here it comes. What’s your motivation for coming on this trip?”

Marcus glanced at her. She was again wearing an expression of solemn, benevolent curiosity, studying him with her head tipped slightly to the side. “Why are you asking?” he inquired.

“Because I’m interested
,”
Kendra said simply.
“You’re quite the mystery man, you know. All ‘enigmatic saviour’, but who’s the person beneath? I can’t help being curious.”

“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?”