London, Mid-Winter, 1820, Kaoterker
Elizabeth Ritterson looked up from the innards of the watch she was working on, selected and used a miniature screwdriver to fasten the inner casing, then wiped her hands with a soft, clean cloth and smiled up at the customer in front of her. “All done. It should keep perfect time now, Lord Peter.”
The elderly gentleman beamed. “Excellent news.”
She picked up the watch, closed the case tightly and wound the mechanism carefully. Turning it over to look at the face, she gave the glass cover a quick polish with a small blue cloth and handed it back to him.
He reattached it to his waistcoat chain. “I honestly don’t understand how you do it young lady. The mechanics of that watch are so tiny that I need a Magnifying Lens to see them clearly, but you appear to be able to manipulate them without so much as a pair of tweezers.”
Elizabeth tapped her nose. “It’s a trade secret, my Lord.”
“And another thing, the cogwheels aren’t made of metal are they? I shone a bright light on them and they glistened rather like glass.” Lord Peter seemed more amused than normal.
“I can assure you, Sir Peter, they are not made of glass.” Elizabeth stood up. “Is there anything else you need me to do?”
He patted himself down. “Yes, actually, now you come to mention it. Where is that… aha, here we go.” He fished a small envelope out of his pocket. “The wife told me that you are not to say no this time. She insists that you attend.”
Elizabeth opened it to find a gilded invitation to the Duke of Harringbourne’s annual Satyulemas Ball. “I would have been present last year, Lord Peter, but the Queen had a clockwork emergency and it took longer than expected to repair.” She smiled at him. “I graciously accept the invitation. I haven’t been to such an occasion for… quite a long while.”
The Duke nodded and picked up his hat. “Delightful. I believe that the wife has also made sure that a large number of single young men are invited as well, so there is no need for you to find an escort.” He sighed theatrically, “I have far too many daughters of marriageable age.”
“Young women are such a worry.” Elizabeth stood and removed the leather apron that she customarily wore, coming around the workbench as she did so.
He bowed. “Thank you for your aid in this matter, m’dear.”
Elizabeth curtseyed and escorted him to the shop’s wide glass doors. “Thank you for your custom, my Lord. It is always a pleasure to serve such a loyal client.”
He put his hat on and left.
Elizabeth looked around. The room was filled with the soothing tick-tock of her wares, from the very largest of Grandfathers to the smallest, bejewelled ladies pocket watch. I enjoy this life. It’s such a change from… she censored the thought and turned the key in the door, flipped the sign on the door to closed and walked back through the shop, the invitation held carefully so that the gilding didn’t rub off onto her hand.
The stairs to the apartment above the shop creaked a different note as she trod on each; the effect was not unlike a slow crescendo. An out of tune squeak about halfway up made Elizabeth pause, step back down two steps and examine the board. The Pitching Widget is loose.
Sighing, she stepped back down two steps, kneeled on the step below the faulty one and lifted the board. Wrapped around the wooden support underneath was a tiny set of bellows connected to a brass mechanism. A copper trumpet made from a candle stick snuffer protruded from below it.
With a blink and a thought, she adjusted the faulty widget, put the board back down and mounted the stairs again. The step sounded perfect again, so she continued up to the landing and her front door.
There was a rustle behind the curtain on the landing window.
Elizabeth turned toward it, Something smells familiar… She sniffed the air, …Yes, cooked meat and strawberries. She focused on the curtain and caught a glimpse of an orangey-yellow aura. Taking a deep breath, she said. “Get out here, Teacup.”
A small purple reptilian head on a long, slim neck slipped around one half of the curtain. One bright green eye winked as the creature opened its mouth and blew a ring of green smoke from its mouth.
“You do realise that I can tell when you’re around don’t you?” Elizabeth asked.
The reptile emerged from the curtains. “I wanted to surprise you…”, he said, his voice slipping into the back of her mind. “Bugger.”
His claws and wings kept getting caught in the fine blue cloth. Grumbling, he struggled to get free, green smoke puffing up with each noise and threatening to set the pelmet alight.
“Oh for… hang on.” Elizabeth sighed and with two small steps was next to the window. “Stay still, Teacup.” She patiently untangled the little creature, then picked it up and cuddled it.
Thirrin laid his head on her shoulder, flattening his wings out against her chest. “I missed you.”
“It’s good to see you too… but you shouldn’t be here. Dragons don’t exist in this world.” She scolded him.
“I was asked to come and get you.” Thirrin said. He crawled up her body carefully to perch on Elizabeth’s left shoulder. “Can we go inside? I’m rather cold.”
Automatically adjusting her posture to balance the dragon’s weight, she returned to the door, pulling up a bunch of keys from her chatelaine. With a quick sort through, she found the correct key and opened the door.
“Who asked you to come here? Was it Mr Crossworthy?” Elizabeth carried Thirrin through the short hallway and into the Parlour. A fire was laid neatly in the hearth and with a thought, Elizabeth set it alight, a thin curl of flame appearing in the middle and spreading as the wood caught alight.
Thirrin jumped down from her shoulder, walked across to the hearth rug and sat down. “He is involved, yes.”
Elizabeth pressed her lips together. “Then I won’t have anything to do with it.”
The tiny purple and green dragon shook its wings and curled up on the rug. “You don’t have a choice. I don’t quite understand the whole of it, but the summary is this; if you don’t come back with me, the Hall of the Worlds will die.”
She shook her head. “No. Not after… how he treated me.”
“Illi…” Thirrin began, snaking his neck around so that he looked at her from over his shoulder.
“No. Do not call me that ever.” Elizabeth snapped, blinking away tears. “I told you that name in strictest confidence and unless you can bring them back, Thirrin, you will never have permission to use it.”
She stormed out of the room, her footfalls booming as she crossed from carpet to wood.
Whoops… handled that one wrong. Thirrin shook himself. Better think up a different tack.
Elizabeth swept into her kitchen where her maid Lila sat. “I’m giving you the evening off, Lila. I can look after myself tonight.”
The girl jumped to her feet, bobbing a curtsy. ”You sure, Miss? I thought I heard voices; d’you not have a guest?”
Elizabeth smiled. “I was talking to myself, Lila. The Duke of Harringbourne brought his watch to be adjusted today and left me an invite to his annual ball. I was debating on whether or not to attend.”
Lila giggled. “Is he still trying to match you up with that nephew of his?”
“He didn’t mention Nathanial, but he said not to bother with an escort, so I think it likely.” Elizabeth checked the kettle on the stove for water, then lit the gas underneath it with a long match.
“I can make you your tea, Miss.” Lila said, rushing forward as Elizabeth began to prepare the teapot.
“No, you go on home. I know your Mum will appreciate you having a night off.” The young woman smiled.
Lila picked up her cape and gloves from the cubby by the back door. “Will she ever. My littlest sister is such a handful.”
Elizabeth watched Lila sweep her cape around her shoulders, pull her gloves on and raise the cape’s hood over her golden hair. “Give her my best.”
“I will Miss.” Lila disappeared out the kitchen door, shutting it firmly behind her.
Elizabeth waited until she heard the yard gate close with a bang, then moved across and locked the back door.
She slipped from the kitchen into the hall and with a tug of the lever beside the solid oak door frame, water gurgled and steam hissed as a complicated metal shuttering system dropped into place across the back door and the shop’s frontage.
Elizabeth dashed downstairs, checked all the shutters were in place before returning to the mansion flat, locking the front door behind her and heading back into the Parlour.
Thirrin looked up at her as she entered. “You’re still hiding your powers then. You could have lit the stove and put the shutters down without touching them.”
“You were watching?” Elizabeth began setting the table in the bow window for tea. Outside, the sun made a final appearance through the clouds. Peach, amber and red light made the room glow for a few moments before it dropped below the level of the roofs.
“What is the point of being able to become invisible if you don’t use it?” the dragon sat up, stretching his wings. “How else do you think I got here without being seen.”
“Well once you’ve had tea, you can use it to get yourself back to the Hall.” She pulled the curtains together sharply. “If someone sees you or finds out about how I do what I do, I’ll be burned at the stake as a witch.”
“How am I supposed to get out of the building without you opening the shutters?” He glanced up at the pelmet where it hid the transom windows. “Those are too small for me to fit through.”
Elizabeth sighed. “Very well, you can stay the night, but you leave Stemsin in the morning when I open up.”
Thirrin jumped into the air, pumped his wings and swooped across to land on the back of one of the chairs at the table. “Fair enough. What’s for tea?”
* * *
Elizabeth laid in her bed, staring up at the ceiling. In the parlour, Thirrin had curled up on the couch and Elizabeth could hear him snoring despite the thick blanket she’d laid over him.
Why would they send him to talk to me? If he’s spotted and captured, he’ll end up dead on some alchemists table, being taken apart for ingredients. She shivered. Not for the first time she wondered why she’d settled here in the first place. Stemsin is Zonlasin without the ethics or advanced technology.
The thought of the other Earth Analogues out in the Hall of Worlds made her heart flutter. No. she took a deep breath and quelled the sense of anticipation that had filled her the moment the Faerie Dragon had appeared. I gave all that up. I gave up being that person when the Council stopped me from saving them. One breath wasn’t enough to calm her, so she settled into the meditation pattern that she’d learned in Quargard, one deep breath held for ten seconds before letting it out slowly. That breath was followed by another, and by the time she’d released the third, she’d dropped into sleep.
Then she began dreaming…
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