by B.Y. Yan
death by the shadow of an enigma. I met you, and since then this is as close as I have ever gotten.”
“Alas I believe it is only all too easy for a man to become lost in a city of seven million, especially with time to worry away at his legacy until all evidence of his having been is destroyed, and his very presence obliterated.” Breakerfast, in a moment of impetuousness, embraced his guest out of pity. “At least, my lord, you have been spared a continental trip. And I as well, for I do not get on well with trains, and ships make me seasick even away from the water.”
As the evening soon wound down the house fell silent, save for where a flicker of candlelight behind a window was here and there covered and uncovered by a restless shadow. The crushing conclusion of affairs following their adventure at the circus and the long wait of inactivity afterwards served a heavy burden to its principle participants. One was by now driven into a deep slumber brought on by intense fatigue, while the other was robbed of his ability to get any rest at all. Bailey paced his small chamber in a restive fit, too tired to make heads or tails of the discouraging situation, but just as unable to escape the clutches of trepidation which worried away at his iron constitution. Resolved as he was to get to the bottom of things he still would have been on the first train out in the morning, made to retire from his mission unwillingly. There was quite simply nothing else to go on, and no more leads to chase. And being the sort of person who loathed above all else leaving things unfinished, as well as intimately fond of getting his own way, you can imagine the depths into which his spirits sank as he replaced his papers and passports into his leather valise in preparation for the return journey. Much to his surprise then the gloomy atmosphere in his chamber was suddenly interrupted by a knock at the door, and he soon admitted the wife of his gracious host. She, apologizing for her intrusion in very few words, took in the state of affairs from the room at a single glance.
“Ah, but it is much too early to be getting off and away, my lord,” she said. “You will not find a cab at this hour easily, I’m afraid. But even if you did it is too late to book passage, for the first train out is filled.”
“How do you know?”
“I wired the ticking offices. And as it is the season of heavy traffic they are all over themselves working to make certain the lines all arrive leave on-time. You couldn’t find standing room if you tried.”
“So,” said Bailey with a snigger of resignation. “Even you are looking to get rid of me now.”
“You do me injustice, sir,” she replied. “As you left for your rooms dejected my husband spoke to me worriedly, and we both of us have decided.”
“What, pray?”
“To convince you to abandon your hopeless quest, but also that you would not desert us yet so readily.” She took hold of his hands affectionately. “Oh, Mr. Bailey, we would hate for you to be turned away empty-handed, with such a terrible impression of our fair city that does it neither favors nor justice. And we have grown fond of you in our own way, so that we have come to cherish your company. It is our wish, impetuous that it may be, for you to stay on with us a while longer, but no longer as a knight errant begging for petty lodging on his way to destiny. You will be instead an honored guest, so that we may show you a side of these peoples and life inside the tall walls to repair your opinion. It is my good man’s wish to cure your humors, but I saw the light beneath your door passing by and sought to make an early start of it.”
“And your husband now? Where is he?”
“Put to bed and fast asleep, but not well, I’m afraid. Still, he needs the rest sorely. As an honest man he too seems reluctant to let things rest as they are.”
Bailey heaved a long, wearied sigh.
“You are both good people, Alex. But I’m afraid nothing you can say will change my mind at this hour, for I have come to the conclusion that I have nowhere left to go but away.”
“Oh but it is only a little bird you have been unable to catch.” She laughed then, as if talking down to a child who has got his mind fixated on something impossible and impossibly small. “And just between us you probably should have never tried.”
“How so?”
She glanced around the chamber furtively with a mischievous glint in her eyes.
“Promise to tell no one?”
“I shall not if you make me,” he replied, curious. “But I don’t fancy hiding anything from your husband. He has become my best-friend in these lands.”
“Well in that case you can rest easily,” she replied. “He knows the story. He knows well what I am about to tell you. But perhaps even he does not understand its significance.”
“And what is it you are about to tell me, madam?”
In reply she led him out of his room into the common chamber, and sat him in his chair before the fireplace. The coals were stirred; she brought out a tray of small refreshments before settling into the chair opposite him with her hands in her lap.
And so Bailey beheld for a time the visage of that exquisite creature, the very figure of indomitable dignity which bespoke of a great and proud heritage, so much so that her simple frock and garb, on the merits of an active imagination, transformed at once into the gown of a graceful, noble queen. Her lightly traced brows fixated into something approaching a furrow of indecision, her lips curling into the smallest grimace of unwillingly held secrets. But in the corners of her eyes he read that same playful, almost roguish intent to divulge to him something impish and delightful she was holding close to heart. She was so absorbed in her own mind for a time that it seemed she had forgotten Bailey’s presence altogether, until at last her distant gaze returned to rest on him once more.
“This Owl movement is making everyone uneasy,” she said. “Then and now, a shadow of his actions linger. And just like your strongman, for instance, who probably did more harm than good doing what he did. All it will mean is that more people—people like you, my lord—will come looking. It always ends the same way, with us smaller folk getting caught up in the middle. What I am about to tell you I have not another living soul, save for my husband and my father, who were involved with the end of things but ignorant of the beginning.” She leaned forward with the firelight between them dancing over her excited features, and drawing very close she whispered: “I have seen your Owl before, my lord. He saved my life once.”
Bailey would have cried out with surprise, but she managed to stifle him with an upraised hand held to his mouth, along with a commanding glare.
“Oh madam!” he whispered, passing a hand over his feverish brows.
Her eyes darted warily from side to side, showing a glint of pleasure along with immeasurable anticipation for what was to follow.
“Quiet now! Or else my story will have to remain untold.”
He would have happily sewn his lips shut for any light she was able to shed on the mystery. And for the duration of their conversation he remained then a contented and eager listener.
“I used to be something of a character,” she told him. “To know something of your Owl you must first learn something about me and my past. My father—alas, you would not know him, and I won’t mention his name—was as wealthy as he was greedy, and as powerful as any king which walked upon the earth. But his was the household of a true demon, a fiery-fiend in man’s skin, an absolute brute in the depth of a bottle, which was sadly more often than not for him. He was a drinker and when he drank he was also a monster. Suffice to say my childhood was not an enjoyable one. I look back on it with every day a prayer spoken for my timely escape, and even then not soon enough before my own mother died from a broken heart and the molestations of the rotten patriarch whose blood I am forced to share. I tell you this, sir, only that you should have an idea of from where I come, and understand where it was I found myself on that fateful night as I was going.”
“Where, Alex?”
“Away. Anywhere. I fled from my home. It would not be the last time I tried to run,
but I am aware it was my first time striking out on my own. Deep into his cups the baron was having one of his fits. And as by then I can no longer count on the protection of my mother my only hope was in escape. His man, an intimate butler sorts who was on his best of days an even worse man than he, did then the only good turn which came about in his sorry life of a lackey, drawing me away and shutting me up in my room for my own sake. It was on the second floor in a mansion that was gargantuan, a castle by any means of the definition, and certainly they could never have anticipated I would jump. But even broken ankles would have been preferable to being huddled away in my bed while the voice of the tyrant boomed outside. So I leapt, and thankfully the gardener had done his good work, and I broke my fall on thick shrubs beneath my window. Then soon after I found myself walking through the city streets with their weird bends and narrow passageways, the buildings looming over me like long frowning faces. A rain beat down on me then, and the night was dark also, here and there made blinding bright by falling flashes of lightning followed by the distant echoes of thunder.”
She paused, took a deep breath, and when she spoke again her gaze vanished far away into her mind reminiscing.
“The night as you can imagine put me in very bad humors. I could not