Tale of 2 Cities: The living and the undead
Lilian, Jem and Kinley get more answers - and few good outcomes.
The story so far…
It started as a voice in Jem’s dream, that drew her across the river into the timeless city of Aeon on the opposite bank. Her lover, Lilian, followed, along with Finley - a jaded guard with a nose for trouble. Since that moment, they’ve discovered, demons, ghouls, skeletons, abandoned soldiers, magical machines and a millennia’s worth of greedy politics.
They want to solve the time puzzle and go home. Everyone else seems intent on war.
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 soldier’s nature stockade was ruined. Its woven walls had been torn down and the contents of the boxes scattered everywhere in a stew of pulped food and muddy clothes trampled underfoot.
“Colei’ Lord Ariduis muttered. “I was hoping for something more tangible. Something written.”
Lilian stared at the corner she had shared the previous night with Jem. The mat was still there, sporting a boot print and a blood spray. “Why?” she asked. “I've told you everything I know.”
“It's not enough.”
Weariness stole over Lilian. She was so sick of other people's agendas. “What, then?” she asked. “You've got a fresh prisoner and he will tell everything the squad is up to. Apparently” - her throat caught in a sob - my city’s as crazy as yours and they think Gowan’s Tower is stealing time.”
Aridius shrugged with a downward twist to his mouth. “It probably is. That's not why I'm here. Our young people are obsessed with an up-river settlement. They're leaving Aeon in their droves and no one knows where they go. Even with the travellers from your side of the river, our population is dropping like a stone. I wanted something - some evidence - that would keep them here. The half-baked ravings of a traitor won't do it.”
Lilian licked her lips. “You don't know where they go? I thought no one could leave this place.”
Aridius sighed. “They can't. Our alchemists proved that centuries ago. They've probably been swept away by the river or fallen down a cliff.”
Lilian squatted, to inspect an injured crate, its cargo of raisins spilt in a perfect half-arc. Combined with the blood, it reminded her of cockroaches.
“You said you were looking for evidence,” she said, keeping her voice light and carefree. “But all of these soldiers came from the opposite bank, not upriver. They wouldn't have anything here to help you.”
She heard Aridius click his tongue as he shifted his body.
“Oh, it was never about exploration my pretty fish. What did you call yourself on the way here - a Pearl? No, I was looking for a crisis. Nothing focuses your mind like your home being attacked. I need a credible threat to the city that the other nobles will accept. Especially now the Tower is open again and we can use it.”
She scooped up a handful of the dried fruit, repressing her revulsion. Her fingers brushed against a hidden object in the box, something small enough to conceal under the winding fabric around her arm. When she stood to face her companion again, her face was smooth and calm. “Then we might be able to help each other, Sir. I told you I run a night saloon, but that is merely my income, not my vocation. As a Pearl, my purpose is to keep secrets.”
*
Jem elbowed Kinley who looked like he had fallen into a light doze. He opened his eyes instantly, proving he was alert the entire time. They waited as the splashing came closer.
“It’s a bunch of belching louts,” Cassius muttered from his ledge. “Your soldiers, no doubt.”
“Are they being chased?” Kinley whispered.
“No.”
With a suppressed groan, the tracker got up. The cold stones of their hiding place had left his muscles tight and his feet numb. He leaned out the door to spy a bobbing light round the corner.
“Hey,” he said laconically with a wave. “I see you made it down here.”
Captain Afizere - from what Kinley could see of the shadowed face - swore and fumbled at his belt for a weapon.
“How do you know this place?” he asked hoarsely.
“We had help,” Jem chirped up, ducking under Kinley’s arm. She pointed up at the skull above the door. “This is my great-great-great Uncle Cassius who built the sewers. I’ve been catching up on family history.”
With a sigh, Kinley jumped down from their nook’s opening into the underfoot muck of the main tunnel. At least the water was mostly puddles, here.
“It’s been a snarled-up day,” he said with a shrug. “We’ve made a lot of discoveries ‘bout the town, the Tower, an’ Jem here. We should talk.”
“I’d be thrilled,” Afizere said with an odd smile. “But my men were ambushed at our hideout and my Sergeant was captured. I have to get us all to a safe place before the night falls.”
“Where are you headed?” Jem asked, picking up on Kinley’s cue. If he wasn’t talking about Afizere’s weapons cache, neither was she.
“We’ve got a storage cellar close by, where we can rest up for the night. It’s not ideal during the day as it gets used,” Afizere admitted. His hand was clutching his left side and Kinley realised the soldier was wounded.
“Lead on,” the tracker offered. Behind them, he heard the scrape of bone on stone as Jem retrieved Cassius and the skull’s muted grumble as she thrust him into her backpack. Kinley stepped in beside Afizere and lifted the soldier’s own bag from his shoulder.
“Yer don’t need to play the hero to me,” he murmured. “Let’s keep that light straight an’ get to safety, yeah?”
Afizere gave a strained nod, without noticing Kinley’s fingers easing the dagger from his belt. The captain still had his sword, but it had been shoved back in the sheath half-sticky with blood and Kinley reckoned he could wield the knife quicker than the captain could draw his sword. This close, he noticed that Afizere’s uniform was stained with mud at the knees and on his sleeves.
“So, where have you been?” Afizere asked as they walked. From further back, Jem mingled with the rest of the squad and Kinley heard the odd muted word come back.
The tunnel was going down now, its height shrinking. Kinley hunched his shoulders and wondered if they would end up bent double.
“Graveyard research, as we agreed, where we picked up Cassius. Then we got a warm welcome from Aeon’s mob an’ fled into the tunnels down by the river. Turns out there’s still magic here if yer knows where to look. So we’ve been running up an’ down the town an’ learning a thing or two along the way.”
Afizere grunted. “Such as?”
“Jem is Gowan’s heir,” Kinley offered, staring straight at the man.
Afizere stopped and gave a short, barking laugh. He shook his head in disbelief. “Really?”
“Yeah, really.”
“I could have saved myself a lot of trouble today if I had known that.” Wincing, he started to walk again.
Kinley skipped forward to keep up. “How so?”
Afizere hesitated.
“Gowen’s worshipped round here. You know that.”
“No, that bit about trouble. What have you been doing?”
Afizere said nothing for a few more dogged steps. He reached out to touch the wall and Kinley realised, it was an old door, set a foot above the floor, so warped and mottled by time that it had faded into the background of the tunnel. The captain pulled out a thin metal rod with a hook at one end and pushed it through a crack in the split wood.
“Latch is on the other side,” he explained to Kinley, as he gently jiggled the tool. “Ah…”
With a puff of mould, the door swung outwards. Warm, dry air accompanied it.
“Give me a hand up,” Afizere commanded. “As soon as we’re settled, I will tell you the rest.”
“Fair enough.”
The cellar was half-filled with vegetable bins. Kinley eyed the hanging ropes of garlic and onions clustered on walls. They left an acrid tang on the air, but the floor was clean, the room was warm and he wasn’t going to be choosy this close to sundown.
Afizere put his lamp down on the closest surface.
“Keep your voices down,” he warned. “Eoin, barricade the door and find those aid kits you stashed away last time. The rest of you, find something to eat and somewhere to lie down. We’ve not got long before sleep takes us.”
He turned to Jem, who stood there with her arms crossed. “Lady Diamous, will you help the injured? I know you have some skills in that direction.”
“As soon as you tell us what is going on,” she volleyed back at him.
Afizere leaned back on the wooden bin, which rattled as it took his weight.
“Gowan’s Tower had crowds of people around it today, with a full company of guards. We could not get near it. However, from the descriptions we overheard, the machine is powerful and fragile. All it would take is one good push to destroy it.”
“Yeah, na,” Kinley agreed. “We’ve been over this. Ev’ryone would die in the fallout.”
Afizere grinned. “Not if it’s the Tower that pushes the machine over.” He looked at their confused expressions. “I’ve been working with my squad today to undermine the foundations. When the Tower falls apart, its masonry will destroy everything inside.”
“And cause a city-wide explosion!” Jem half-yelled.
The ceiling creaked as someone walked overhead - and stopped. The cellar fell silent, every face looking upwards.
After a pause, the footsteps resumed.
Jem glared at the captain. “Hundreds of people could die.”
“They’ve been killing us for years,” someone else muttered close by.
Afizere nodded. “Eoin’s right,” he said. “The Calculation Guild figured it out decades ago when they started running their annual city census. You won’t find anyone over fifty-five in Alinakard now.”
Kinley blinked. “That can’t be right,” he protested. “I see older folks all the time, ‘specially on market-days.”
“They travel in, yes,” Afizere said with restrained patience. “From the countryside. When you move five miles out of our city, you live fifteen years longer. The Guild realised it happened within a tight, radius of the river that matched Aeon’s banks.”
Jem fumbled into her bag and brought out the skull. “Did you hear that, Uncle?” she asked Cassius.
“Veritus,” the skull grunted. “It makes sense. A time depletion zone, in the same way a firestorm sucks up all the air. We linger too long here whilst your lives are cut short.”
“Hence the weapons,” Kinley said out loud. “You need them to fight your way out of Aeon.”
Afizere sniffed as he took an aid kit from Eoin and offered it to Jem. “Please my Lady,” he begged, touching his wounded side. He looked back at Kinley. “You saw our cache? Well…we had to be prepared.”
“It will take many barrels of firepower to destroy the foundations,” Cassius pointed out. Jem put him down on the wooden bin next to Afizere and started to pull out the bandages from the kit. “You can help, too,” she nudged Kinley. “See who needs stitches in the squad.” She turned back to Afizere. “Uncle’s right. You would need to cave in the tunnel under the tower to make it move and anyone down there at the time will die.” She motioned at the captain to pull up his noisome shirt. Afizere did so, exposing a wicked cut just below his ribs.
“True,” the captain said with an intake of breath as Jem got to work. “But we’re not going to use firepower. The sewers go directly under the Tower. We merely need to break the supports.”
“Which will still kill you,” Kinley retorted, his voice floating across the room from the half-circle of light close to the door. He held up a needle and thread above his wounded patient.
Afizere just grinned, his face copying the skull next to him. “You can’t kill the dead, Keeper Kinley. We won’t be down there. Aeon’s ghouls will be, instead.”