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Last to Rise(78)





“Then what? Once they’ve fucked over Ministry, we’ll still be in for a load of shit.”



“Don’t you worry about that. The Archdeacon has a plan for Top of the World.” I had no intention of revealing the fact I had no idea what the plan actually was. “Maybe it’ll work, and maybe it won’t. Either way, we need to stop the Storad getting into Under. Even if it’s only until we can get as many people out of the Mishan gate as possible. By sheer force if we have to, because we’ve got some firepower now and the Mishans don’t, and a gun in the face concentrates the mind wonderfully. The longer we can stop the Storad, the more people can get out. We’ll be a shield, but a shield with guns. Agreed?”



“I don’t like that part so much,” he said. “Just a meat shield.”



“If it comes to that, we’re pretty much screwed anyway. But it won’t come to that. I’m hoping we can beat the living snot out of them instead.” If it did come down to that, to just being a shield while everyone got out of town, then I was going to give in to the black and blow the hell out of everything I could reach. Because if it came to that, I was as good as dead anyway, we all were. Naturally I didn’t say that – admitting to being a mage was still a tricky business that might well end up with my head on a stick and, while Quillan knew, I didn’t want the rest of them in on my dirty little secret.



“Thirty men with guns though – how’s that going to be enough?” he asked.



“It isn’t. Which is why, on your way up, you are all going to find a few good men you can trust and bring them with you. Make sure they bring whatever weapons they can find. And when we get there, we are not going to be out in the open, because that would be stupid. I’ll meet you there.”



“What are you going to do?”



“Find some friends. I hope.”



While they were dredging up likely-looking mates to help out, I was pretty busy myself. Now that I had at least the beginnings of a plan, I had all the energy I needed. First I checked with Halina, and she was right where I’d said we’d meet, along with a small phalanx of Stenchers and some suspiciously smelly barrels. I got them going to where I thought we’d need them, and was comforted by the truly evil grin that Halina was wearing.



“You’ve no idea how often we’ve dreamed of doing something like this,” she said.



I then took the time to slip to Erlat’s house, only to find it in chaos. I managed to grab Kersan as he bustled past me, his arms full of various little gewgaws. I didn’t even need to say anything before he jerked his head in the direction of Erlat’s rooms and scuttled off.



Her room was stripped almost bare, with her at the centre, surrounded by all the others – not all working girls, because Erlat’s place wasn’t just a brothel but a safe-house too. The younger kids, refugees from the pain factories that I’d destroyed in the ’Pit, ran around picking up anything that was valuable and stuffing it into sacks.



Erlat talked rapidly to two of the oldest women, who still probably weren’t over twenty. She held out something that glittered gold and ruby. “Look, this should be enough, don’t you think? It’s worth more than anything else in the place, and with everything else you should have a chance. You buy your way through, and remember what I taught you – when you get there, you don’t let any man run your business. You do the work, you pick your customers, you run yourselves. The Mishans are easy enough to please, from what I’ve seen of them. Just keep safe, and together, OK? Hopefully you can all come back when it’s over.”



“If you’re not going, I don’t see why we should,” one of the women snapped back. “And who says there’ll be a city to come back to? Or anyone in it? Erlat, please, you come too. If it’s not safe for us, it’s not safe for you.”



Erlat caught my eye, just for a heartbeat, before she turned back. “I’m staying, but I can’t ask you to stay with me. The younger ones… Someone has to get them out, if we can, and someone needs to look out for them once they’re out. Please.”



The women went off, muttering about “buggered if I’m going if she’s not”. Erlat turned her polished smile on me. “Rojan, a pleasure as always. I’m afraid you find us in a moment of disarray.”



I looked around to where a boy a year or two younger than Kersan was rolling up Erlat’s favourite rug, while another took a nicely done oil painting off the wall. Within moments, pretty much all that was left was me, Erlat, the bath and the bed.