The story so far…
Drawn by madness and magic, Jem stumbled into Aeon; a timeless city on the opposite river bank to her own. Her lover, Lilian, betrayed Jem to her despotic father in a frantic attempt to save her, only to be forced across the bridge after Jem. She was accompanied by Kinley - a sardonic city guard with a knack for turning up when people need him.
They want to go home. But first, they have to deal with rebel soldiers, power-hungry nobles, a demonic entity and time itself. If they get it wrong, Aeon will burn.
You can read the last post here, or start from the beginning with The City On The Other Side. The links at the bottom of each post will jump you straight to the next chapter.
The servants were lighting the lamps as Lilian scurried through the front door behind Lord Aridius. It was a palatial residence, nestled behind high walls and an outer courtyard planted with herbs. Outside, she could see the last of the sunset dying behind the city’s rooftops.
“Don’t we have to worry about nightfall?” she asked the nearest servant who laughed and shook his head. He was dressed in undyed linen trimmed with green ribbons and wore a single earring with a metallic feather dangling from it. The pewter gleamed against the man’s olive skin. “We’ve got ward loops around the main house, ” he explained, still smiling. “Just stay indoors and you can stay awake until midnight! You must be from the city stacks, discipli. The cheap windbags down there never extend their waking time.”
Relieved, Lilian chuckled with him and walked into the sumptuous hallway. It had more statues, artwork and trailing vines than anything she had seen in an Alinakard home on her side of the river. It also contained a scowling woman wearing several layers of green silk and a circlet around her elaborate woven hairdo of white curls. Her ire was directed at Aridius who had bowed his head before her.
“You missed supper again,” she chided him. “Soon your family will not remember your face!”
“Duty before pleasure, Mother. As the City Shield I had to attend a guard operation that overran.” The matriarch gave a gentle scoff. “I’m sure,” she said. “And this is your latest…acquisition?” Her eyes skewered Lilian, taking in her sweat-stained scholar tabard and unkempt hair. With as much poise as she could muster, Lilian smiled back.
“Remember you are a Pearl,” she told herself.
Aridius tipped his head to one side with a grin. “I tore her from the loving clutches of the court archives. The dolts did not realise her value. She will be an asset to our outside treasure house and a fund of stories for the younger clerks.”
His mother sniffed. “Away from the house, then? Good.” With a final flick of her countenance, the noblewoman dismissed Lilian as you would do a stray dog. She took her son’s arm. “Caledulia is in the music room with a new composition. Wash and join us. I will arrange for a platter and some wine to be sent in.”
Aridius allowed himself to be led away without a backward glance. Lilian hovered awkwardly in the foyer, looking around. There was no one else present to help her. After a few minutes of waiting, she wandered over to a promising door that had the crash of crockery and voices behind it. She turned into a cavernous kitchen occupied by two men and two women - this time with stained aprons overlaying their household uniform and bandanas wrapped around their heads. Cooks or maids, she presumed. Each one wore the same metallic feather earring as the lamplighter. It looked like a household symbol.
“Quis es?” the nearest one asked. Her black brows drew together in irritation and puzzlement.
“I’m lost,” Lilian said with a disarming smile. “Lord Aridius brought me here and I don’t know where to go for food and lodgings.”
The four stared at her and then at each other. After a moment of silent communication, the nearest maid sighed and crooked a finger. “Come,” she said. “You are too late for food, but we will find you something from the cold larder. Then you will wash.”
Lilian obediently ate a plate of jumbled leftovers at the table, then followed her rescuer through the maze of corridors. The decorations quickly gave way to bare brickwork with a series of doors opening to dormitories. The servant kept going until they made a right turn into a steam-filled bathhouse with stone friezes on the walls. The centre of the room was occupied by an oblong pool, filled with warm water.
“Bath here,” she ordered coolly. “The water refreshes every three hours. Take a clean towel from the outside stack and seek out Ancilla Marta afterwards to find your quarters. She allocates the rooms.”
With that, the servant turned and left. Lilian blinked. She had been treated as a begrudged interloper before, but rarely this quickly and with so little cause. She decided to linger and enjoy the hot water before plunging back into the petty rivalries of the servants’ world. It felt like weeks since her last bath and she idly wondered how much time had passed, on her side of the river.
Aridius walked in as she was soaping her hair.
“I wondered where you had gone,” he remarked.
Lilian ducked down into the water and wiped the suds from her forehead. “I did not realise…” she began awkwardly. Then she saw he was stripping off.
“It’s fine,” he said, striding down into the water. He looked more muscular than his clothes and bearing had hinted at. “Finish your immersion. You are not the first woman I have brought home and my servants know when to err on the side of caution. We can talk freely here.”
Lilian decided to take him at his word. She dipped her head back, removing the rest of the foam. Then she swam over to his side. He was half submerged, anchored by his elbows on the ledge behind them. She did the same, lifting her torso out of the water and letting her breasts float on the surface. To her amusement, Aridius’ eyes dropped briefly down, before he fixed them on her face.
“They were not happy about my presence here,” she said, the words rolling out as a flat statement. “What do they imagine my status to be, my lord?”
Aridius chuckled. “A scholar who is secretly my lover, of course. They are ruled by my wife and mother, so you will not make many friends here. You must be used to that.”
Lilian shrugged.
“It’s not usually so blatant,” she admitted. “And what am I, to you?”
“A friend. Help me safeguard this city and earn your place here. I can find you a sinecure, or a marriage, in return.”
Lilian pressed up against him and felt, rather than heard his indrawn breath. He was not as indifferent as he made out.
“I do need a friend,” she agreed softly. “And you need Captain Afizere if you want to convince your councillors and youth there is a crisis. Sergeant Jere won’t confess. The man is loyal enough to face down a demon. He won’t fold in your courts.”
“We can be persuasive.”
“Torture? Will anyone believe you, with his fingernails gone and his lips bleeding? They will say you made it up and he submitted to the pain. No - you need his leader. The captain is more reckless. A skilled questioner will trip him up in public, where everyone can watch.”
Aridius huffed in resignation.
“And where do we find this reckless captain, now his hideout is gone?”
Lilian turned to face him, letting her fingertips graze his arms. “At the Tower, of course,” she said, keeping her eyes intent on his. “It’s their only way home and they need to destroy it. If you set a trap for them there, you will catch them. Let me talk to the Sergeant and I will find out when they will attack. He trusts me.”
Aridius shifted, hooking a leg around her hip to draw her closer. A small shift of the head and they could even kiss. She could feel the heat of his skin in the water and the tickle of his chest hair under her palms. She kept her thoughts carefully away from Jem.
“And why should I trust you?” he asked. “After all, you want to go home, too.”
Lilian shrugged. “As I told you earlier, I came in pursuit of a lover who does not want me,” she said, allowing a trace of pain into her voice. “I need a fresh start.”
“Hmmmm. As a Pearl?”
“As a woman.”
Aridius’ mouth nuzzled hers and she opened her lips. He tasted of musk and wine. It was pleasant enough; it just lacked the wicked spark that Jem lit in her.
“Jem, I wish this were you.”
*
Jem rolled over, shading her eyes. Something poked her in the back. Again.
“Get up,” Kinley muttered. “We’ve gotta go.”
Around her was the stumbling of soldiers, a few muttered oaths and the odd fart. It was just as well the cellar had onions strung on the walls. A lone candle burned on one of the storage bins.
“Where?” Jem grumbled. “Can’t be morning yet.”
“Sorry lass, it is. C’mon.”
Grumpily, Jem followed Kinley through the door, back into the sewers and up into the streets. By the time they emerged, shivering, into the dawn’s half-light, she was awake.
She could hear the rumble of carts and the first call of the birds.
“Let’s get coffee and grub,” Eoin said from behind them both.
“I thought we were wanted?” Kinley asked.
“There’s a few places close to the river where no one cares about your name. We can get breakfast and information there.” the soldier said.
Breakfast turned out to be a slightly stale stuffed fish roll at a shack made out of crates, with upturned reed baskets acting as seats. Oddly enough, the coffee was hot and fresh. Jem listened with dismay to the conversation between Captain Afizere and the shack’s owner- a skinny, loquacious man with dark brown skin and a ragged beard. She was the only one who seemed to care. The rest of the squad dug into their food and Kinley swatted at the flies whilst drinking, his eyes focused far away on the river.
“Bigods, something came in from my dear friend Raul, when I rose to prayer this morning. Your sergeant is being held in the cells on his third charge. The weights are already in place at the docks for him.”
Afizere grimaced.
“No chance of a reprieve?”
“Ah, no. An angel shining with the light of heaven itself could not stop it. A third charge means death. No judge has ever said otherwise in this city. His soul will be on the water by tonight.”
“Have you heard about a lady?” Jem asked, surprising herself. Kinley jerked around, wide-eyed. “Hair the colour of wheat and blue eyes. Anyone like that arrested?”
Their host paused, finger raised, mouth half-open. Jem almost did the same, before she saw Kinley’s mocking grin and closed her lips.
“There was one such delicious damsel,” the man said slowly. “But she was in the archives and spirited away by a lord. Raul was most put out. Few women ever qualify for that level of mastery over the scrolls -.”
Which lord?” Jem interrupted.
“Eh?”
“Which. Lord.” she enunciated.
She held onto her patience as the man chewed over the question, finger upraised again. “Raul did not vouchsafe it to me,” he said at last.
Kinley grabbed her wrist as she rose from her seat. “Don’ burn yer bridges yet,” he said softly. “He’s useful an’ we’ve got free coffee.”
Afizere dropped a palmful of coins on the shack’s rough surface. “Can you get us into the cells, my friend?”
The man shrugged. “I might be able to get you in,” he said cautiously. He waited, his eyes darting between the pile and the soldier.
“That’s all I’ve got,” Afizere replied.
“Ah, no. It’s not enough. The door bribes alone...”
“For Alinakard,” Afizere said persuasively. “For the chance to see your children again. We finally have a plan in place and it will work. You could be home again by this evening!”
The stallholder licked his lips.
“Truly?”
“By all the saints and demons. Truly. But we need Jere to make it happen.”
Under Jem’s eyes, the stallholder seemed to inflate, his cheeks puffing out and resolute.
“Midday, then. Meet me by the clerks’ entrance on Washdown Lane. I can get two, maybe three people in, but I can’t get them out. It will be hard and fast with fighting and it has to be someone the guards won’t recognise.”
Afizere looked directly at Jem and Kinley. “Fortunately, we have two loyal citizens here who fit your description. If my sergeant is free at noon, Aeon will be on fire tonight.”