The story so far…
Lilian, Jem and Kinley are trapped in the fabled city of Aeon, a place of frozen time, with ghosts, ghouls and a demon living among the ordinary citizens. Lilian has been swept up by one of Aeon’s leading nobles, looking for a political advantage. Jem and Kinley are with a squad of fugitive soldiers from Alinakard, their home town on the opposite riverbank. Jem has managed to explode Gowan’s Tower, which started off the time bubble in the first place, and now is a reason for 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 piece will jump you straight to the next chapter.
Lilian trotted down the street, her green taffeta dress rustling with every step. It was loose on her, and she wondered what had happened to its last owner. It was not Aradius’ wife—that much was certain. She had glimpsed the lady between the column pillars of the family room the night before: she was a thin reed with long black hair and a mobile face.
Lilian's hair was tied with pink ribbon (a minor rebellion), and she flatly refused the metallic feather earring that marked the servants of Aridius. With some difficulty, he had persuaded her to accept one of his silver bracelets instead, stamped with his symbol on the clasp.
“For protection,” he had explained.
Lilian hoped it would not be needed. She preferred the ledger to be loaded on her side in any relationship, especially for a man as well-connected as Ariduis, and right now, it was sinking under the weight of her dependence on him. As she walked, she muttered a short prayer that Sergeant Jere would have some answers to trade and that Jem would be safe. Of course, Jem's worst enemy was her own impulsive nature.
The double doors of the civic palace were locked. She had to hunt around the building until she found the clerk's side entrance, with them lined up like so many pigeons. They looked barely awake, each clutching a coffee mug.
“Where is everyone?” she asked. The clerk who had processed her sentence yesterday stepped forward. “Scholar Lilian?” he asked curiously, his breath steaming in the morning chill. “Of Alinakard?”
Lilian smiled. “Temporarily demoted,” she reminded him demurely, giving a little twirl to display her skirts.
“Well, yes - but what are you doing here? It’s too early for court business.The judge does not sit before noontide.”
Lilian curled her lips upwards. “I’m here to see a prisoner before he goes to court, Clericus Raul. Here is my writ from Lord Aridius, in his capacity as City Shield.” She proffered a scrap of paper and winced when she saw Raul’s eyes fasten on the bracelet.
“Erm, yes,” he mumbled. He took the paper and checked the signature. Lilian heard the rattle of bolts being drawn back and the scrape of the door opening. The line of clerks started to move forward, disappearing into the building’s maw.
Raul gestured to her, his moustache bristling in agitation. “I can secure an interview,” he said, pulling her into the line before him. “For a consideration, of course.”
Lilian allowed herself to be led. “Such as?”
“Ten denarii.”
Lilian chuckled. Aridius had been right. She slid the coins into his hand and found herself propelled up the back stairs, away from the bustle of the clerk’s offices. The aroma of coffee, ink and parchment gave way to mildew, then - as Rual took her through a gated corridor - a lingering scent of piss, overlaid by vomit. Lilian slapped a hand over her mouth and nose.
“The day porters have not yet cleaned the cell buckets,” Raul said matter-of-factly. He led her into the large room at the end of the corridor, quartered by ornate metal bars. Their quarter held the only door in and out, a wall-mounted cabinet and a high window near the ceiling. The other three sections were prison cells, with a bench against the wall and a bucket to use. The left-hand cell held two drunks, snoring noisily, whilst the far right cell was empty. Sergeant Jere was in the corner holding, hunching up for warmth, with his hands tucked into his armpits. He glanced at Lilian, bright-eyed despite the bruises on his face.
“I’ll leave you to it,” Rual offered magnanimously, stepping back two paces.
“Not like this! I need an interview room that doesn’t stink and where we can’t be overheard. And coffee. You can manage something to drink on the stipend I’ve just paid you.”
The clerk pushed out his bottom lip. “No. You get to see him early, and those two madidus dregs won’t stir before noon. It means rousing a guard if we have to escort him out of here. I don’t think you want that attention - do you?”
Lilian scowled. “At least take the night buckets with you!”
“Not my job.”
“It was the minute you agreed to my terms. I need to talk to the man without throwing up. Unless you want me to talk to the judge about your side-earnings instead?”
Raul huffed but agreed to shuffle out with the buckets. Jere pushed his towards the small, narrow opening next to the barred door, whilst the drunks barely stirred when the clerk tiptoed in to retrieve theirs. The odour improved as soon as he left.
“Thank you, Lady Lilian,” Jere rumbled, stepping close. “I’ve slept in worse places, but not by much. Are you here to free me?”
Lilian grimaced. “Not yet. I can’t do it alone. Do you know where the rest of the squad are? Or Jem and Kinley?”
Jere shrugged. “We have a few hiding places around the town and by the river. I wouldn’t worry about that right now. Your people can care for themselves, and I can meet with the Captain when free. Can you bribe that clerk again?”
“No,” Lilian said absently. “I don’t have the coin. Right now, I need something I can use to postpone your trial. I’m here as part of the Shield’s household - the one that defends prisoners…”
“I know all about him. Bastard.”
“He’s our best chance of freedom.”
Jere tightened his lips, making his moustache bristle.
“No. We’re handy scapegoats to him. You’re deceived, Lilian. He won’t help us. I’d rather beg the demon we faced together.”
Lilian paced the square scrap of ground open to her. “He’s the one who got me here. He’s also let slip that there’s a way out of Aeon. Their young people are disappearing. I need to get hold of Kinley to verify it. We can leave peacefully.”
That got Jere’s attention. “He meant this?”
Lilian nodded emphatically, making her skirt rustle. “Yes! Really! If you are still bent on destroying the Tower, we can check before you attack.”
Jere huffed. “Unlikely, my lady. We scouted out the site last night. Hopefully, the city will die before I do. I hid my notebook in camp; when Afizere finds it, he’ll figure it out.”
Lilian’s heart sank along with her smile. “What have you done, Sergeant?”
Jere sloped back to the bench and sat down, crossing his legs at the ankles. He looked like he was waiting for a passenger coach, not a trial with a death sentence. “I wasn’t always a sergeant, Lily-Pearl. Before all this, I was the Calculus Master, overseeing the census. I discovered that Aeon was stealing time from us, and now I’ve worked out how to stop them. “ He bared his teeth at Lilian in a half-smile. “It’s beautiful, the way the equation worked out.”
Lilian blinked, the pieces confused. “I saw your research at the library on time…”
“Yes. I tried to find a way to reverse and manipulate it. But we couldn’t get to the machine, and the demon couldn’t be controlled long enough to get us out of the Fight Court, let alone to the Tower. Then you came, and I realised I was looking at the problem the wrong way.”
“I, I - don’t understand?”
The Sergeant smiled at her, genuinely grateful. “You talked about patterns and puzzles, whilst Kinely talked about the undead. I wondered why the ghouls were penned in the court - and if we could move them elsewhere. It turns out that you just need the invocation on the seating.”
Lilian shook her head. “Or we could go home and leave them to it.”
Jere pointed a finger at her. “They are killing us by proxy, my lady. It’s more subtle than a poisoned well or battalion of soldiers, but we are at war. We have to respond.”
Lilian stepped back from the cells towards the door. “Not like this, we don’t. Aeon is looking for a pretext to attack us, and Alinakard’s not prepared.”
She fumbled for the concealed pocket in her skirts and drew out the small, battered notebook stuffed with extra paper. “Did you mean this notebook, Sergeant?”
She jumped as Jere flung himself against the bars in an attempt to reach her, his outstretched fingertips brushing her elbows. “Give it ‘ere! “ He bawled. “You stinking d’shem! Give it!”
Lilian took one more step and disappeared through the outer door.