Tale of 2 Cities: Locks and Doors
Catch up with our crazed city of ghouls, demons and lovers.
The story so far…
Lilian and Jem are lovers, separated by class and custom, in the hierarchical river city of Alinakard. They live on the West Bank with an excellent view of the mysterious fairytale city on the Eastern Bank. A city that sets itself on fire every dusk and reappears, intact, every dawn. No one has ever made it across the bridge and come back alive. Jem wants to be the first, despite the danger - she is drawn to it, like an addiction. Desperate to save her, Lilian betrays Jem to her powerful father, dragging the sardonic city guard, Kinley, into the mess. Despite her father’s precautions, Jem disappears anyway, forcing Lilian and Jem across the bridge to look for her. There, they discover a city haunted by the mad, the dead and the damned, where nothing ever ends. If they want to escape, they need to find a way to break the time loop. Kinley is trying to break into Gowan’s Tower, where it all started, whilst Lilian is trapped in a fight court with a few other adventurers, a white rabbit and a puzzle box.
Hint: You can read last week’s post, here.
If you want to read this from the beginning, you can start with The City On The Other Side. I have added links at the bottom of each post that will jump you straight to the next chapter until you end up back here.
“Keep still. I’ve got bandages.”
Kinley sagged on the step. Jem hunkered down beside him, mindful of the sheer drop on the other side. Gowan’s tower had steps circling outside of the structure, like a child’s toy, but no guardrails or rope to cling on to. If you stumbled, you died.
Jem was fussing over the arrow, still sticking out of his side. “Careful,” he warned. “They’re still shootin.’”
“They won’t be, with me around,” Jem replied. “They brought me here and wished me well. Apparently, I am good luck.” She nudged the arrow’s shaft, bringing on a fresh wave of pain.
“Sard! Go easy with that.”
Jem grimaced. “It’s stuck in deep. Come on. There’s more room at the top and I’ve got my aid kit up there.”
There wasn’t enough room to walk side-by-side comfortably. Jem went first and Kinley followed, pressing his wad of bandages under the arrow.
The end of the staircase was an anti-climax, after his struggles to get there. It was a simple stone landing, big enough for three men with a balcony and shelter from the wind. The dark, grey metal doors had reinforced hinges and a strange fret-work lock that looked more like a puzzle than an entry point. Jem’s belongings littered one corner, unfurling from the mouth of her rucksack. A woven basket with a shoulder strap sat primly besides the mess.
“I don’t suppose you got a key?” Kinley enquired.
Jem shrugged. “No. I told them about the voice in my dreams, they saw my House symbol and started going crazy. They seem to think I’m a descendent of Gowan, whoever he was, and I will bring him back. I wasn’t going to argue!”
Kinley scratched his stubble. He was certain only half a day had passed, but according to his body clock, he had missed at least two meals and his beard was progressing nicely. “D’yer have anythin’ to drink?” he asked hopefully. Wincing, he sat down, back against the door. Despite its forbidding nature, the metal was warm.
“They gave me an entire picnic, including a berry flask. It was a pain to lug up here.”
“Yeah, you certainly had yer trials,” Kinley agreed sarcastically. “Pass it over an’ we’ll think about that lock.”
Jem straightened and glared in a replica of her father.
“Mind your tone. I didn’t have to rescue you and I’m the only one inclined to heal you.”
Kinley glared back. “I didn’t want run after you, either. The Magnate forced us both across the bridge ‘cause you ran after a galah dream, you ninny. No trainin’,’ no scoutin’ or prep. You just thought yer were special an’ the rules wouldn’t apply.”
Jem sniffed, bent down and pulled out a bottle half-filled with a dark liquid. She spent a moment looking through her pack and produced a large tin with the familiar Caduceus rod etched on the top. The entwined snakes glittered in the sun.
“You don’t understand. Lilian didn’t, either. The voices wouldn’t leave me alone. In my family, you’re supposed to wait them out and a lot of us end up as drunkards or mad. Father used to get into fights, just to drown them out - and then it got worse…” she broke off and Kinley was thankful for that. The Diamous reputation was a dark one and their dungeons were more feared than the City’s own stinking goals. Alinakard’s Council had to follow the rules, publicly at least.
Jem proffered the bottle, just out of Kinley’s reach. He raised his eyebrows in silent reproach.
“You said ‘us,” Jem replied. “Who else came with you and where are they?”
“Yer lass. Lilian. She went into the fight court lookin’ for you.”
Jem’s face twitched with a mixture of anger and dismay. “She’s the idiot who sold me out. She can rot there.”
“She’s doin’ it all for you. She’s a courtesan who risked your father’s notice to keep you safe - d’you know how dangerous that is for people like her? They’re not called Pearls for just their beauty, y’know. Then she’ walked across the bridge into this damned city an’ risked her soul to enter a demon-haunted fight court because she thought you were there. But who cares, right? She’s pro’bly dead now.”
Taking advantage of Jem’s inner turmoil, Kinley breathed out and lunged forward to grab the bottle. His wound flared again with another rush of heat, but at least he had something to drink. The fruit juice was as refreshing and tart as he hoped. He chugged down a third and carefully set the remainder aside. Who knew how long they would be here?
“Pass the medicine, yer ladyship,” he asked with exaggerated politeness. “What have you tried so far, with the door? Do the handles turn?”
Jem started out of her angry trance.
“No. Nothing opens. You can’t pick the lock, either. There’s no spring mechanism that I can see.”
“Humpf. Did your dream-voice say anything?”
“No. It just brought me this far, then stopped.”
“Fine. Help me with this wound an’ we’ll have a spy-round for windows.”
*
Lilian braced herself, picking up the large, wooden puzzle box. She stepped to the right of the arena doors. Afizere stood by the left, straightening the lapels of his ragged jacket. His men stood in a half-circle on either side of them with weary apprehension.
“Eoin, pick up the rabbit,” Afizere ordered. The largest soldier in the squad stepped forward and scooped up the creature in one hand. He looked like a small mountain with a beard.
“Ready?” Afizere asked her. “Remember, run straight for the drummers in the stand. Ignore anything else you see or hear.”
Lilian nodded. Her mouth tasted metallic and her heart was beating fast. But it had to be done.
Afizere banged on the doors, thrice. On the third strike, something outside echoed and they creaked open.
“Run!”
Lilian heard Afizere bellow out the order, along with something else, but it was already lost in the crowd’s roar. She ran straight to the far side, flanked by three soldiers, where Afizere told her to find the trick pressure-stone in the wall. It would open the hidden staircase that led to the stands. “We can’t fight our way out - there’s too many of them - but we can give you enough space to place the puzzle box,” he had said to her.
It seemed simple enough at the time. Now, just finding the right stone felt insurmountable. Lilian slapped at each dappled surface, her hand aching from the blows. She could feel her ears popping from the rising air pressure and she dared not turn around. She had to trust Afizere would keep the demon occupied.
The soldier to her left pushed in the correct stone, dislodging it to the depth of his wrist. Someone else hooked a hand around her waist and pulled her backwards as stones erupted out of the wall to form a flight of steps upwards to the stand. “C’,mon,” someone shouted in her ear, with gust of beer-breath.
Behind her, something shrieked.
Lilian looked back to see Afizere and his team torn up, then tossed aside by a malevolent whirlwind. Eoin crashed into the floor and the rabbit escaped from his grasp in a maddened rush. A moment later, the whirlwind was upon it and the creature disappeared in a dash of red mist.
Sickened, Lilian resettled the cube under her arm and ran up the steps. The rest of her team were ahead, pushing and shoving aside the ghouls that mobbed them. A pair of snapping teeth lunged into her face before her escort punched it back with a sickly squelch. Despite their ferocity, the dead did not have the raw power or desperation of the living. Lilian’s team lurched forward, just above walking speed.
Three steps ahead, the dead-eyed drummer lads in their faded uniforms turned to watch. The heraldic shield with the puzzle lines embossed on its stone face was just out of reach.
“Throw that bench! Now!” Afizere yelled from below. She grinned, before using the box to block a pair of skeletal hands. They disappeared, their owner shrieking and she heard the clatter of its bones on the pit floor. There was a crunch and the noise level of the crowd dropped.
“Go!”, the man in front of her yelled. He pulled aside the drummer, deflecting mottled swinging hand with its drumstick and there - thank all the Gods! - there, was the shield. Lilian dropped to her knees and hastily pivoted the box, looking for the side that would interlock with the pattern.
She managed it on the fourth try, slotting together wood and stone.
The whole arena shuddered and she fell sideways. When the shaking stopped, she crawled to her feet in the ringing silence. Her team looked shell-shocked but alive. The undead audience had collapsed onto the ground. So had the fighting pit itself, now resembling a bottomless well, rather than a muddy arena.
There was no sign of Afizere or the rest of his men.
First off: thank you for the recap. I was able to jump in with this as a first chapter and didn't feel at all lost. And, now that I'm invested, I'll be heading back for the stuff I missed.
Second: awesome scene in the undead arena. Lots of fast-paced action, and when there was dialogue it felt snappy and urgent. Superb.