They dragged me to the contraption Dinga had mentioned with red and blue lights, with “police” painted on the side in white lettering. So that’s what they called their knights here. The policeman roughly shoved me in the back seat. I hung my head. I only hoped Dinga would keep her safe, show her where we crossed. I prayed silently he still had the dagger. Even if they left me to rot in the Quod, Alayna had to get back to Clock City.
The queen’s life depended on it.
Chapter Thirteen: Quod
ONCE I SAW THE QUOD of this world, my hope diminished. Tucked into the side of a hill with three stories, it was bigger than even the palace back home. Did such a place have so many criminals that they needed such a Quod? I’d never seen the inside of one. Since my father’s death, I’d tried to keep my head down to a certain extent. I knew the residents of Clock City thought I was just a crazy inventor, but you couldn’t be arrested for being crazy, at least.
The police engine wound up the road to the top, drove around the back of the steel doors that announced “Sherriff” and to the back of the large building. They stopped in front of a black gate, and the driver rolled down his window to type into small metal box attached to the gate. We drove around and pulled up to a tan door just marked “Official.”
Once you were in the Quod, did they tell your families? The knights usually didn’t, or so I’d heard on the streets. What did it even matter? Alayna was the only one I knew in this world. Who would they even tell?
Please, Alayna, just get me out of here. I told myself, knowing she couldn’t hear me, but hoping she would do what was right this time.
They took my clothes, my gear, my goggles, and made me dress quickly in pink. Pink! My father would have been ashamed. Even Victor would have given me the eye of disapproval. Other policemen, these ones dressed in tan outfits with more weapons at their side, barked orders at me:
Wear this.
Stand here.
Smile.
A round picture-taker clicked as they made me turn this way and that.
“Any tattoos?” the man behind the counter asked me.
“Do I look like an air pirate, sir?”
The man eyed me over the picture-taker. “Don’t get smart with me.”
“My apologies, I was only just—”
“That’s what I hate about you cosplayers,” he sneered at me. “Y’all think you can just do whatever the hell you want when you come through on the way to these conventions. Well, not in our town.” He gave me a cruel smile.
I decided keeping my mouth shut for the time being was a good idea.
So, I let them lead me, shackles on my arms and ankles, to the main part of the Quod, which was essentially a round room with orange couches circled in front of a small black box with moving pictures.
Two other pink-clad individuals lounged on the far side of the couch. They stared intently at me as the officer led me through the metal doors.
Along the back wall and on a second story were all tan doors with no handles. I was a long way from home. I followed him to the steel stairs on the far side and we climbed.
At the top of the stairs, he swiped a card into the slot on one of the doors and threw open the thick steel.
“In you go, buddy,” he smiled sadly.
I sighed. I didn’t have a choice. The door shut behind him and I was greeted with two metal beds stacked on top of each other, thin blue pads on each, and a gray toilet and connected sink on one side of the room.
I sunk down on the thin blue bed. It was just as comfortable, if not more so, than the lounge in the lair of the Order. Surrounded by so much metal and steal, my power was useless here. I missed my workshop; I missed my bedroom at home.
Of all those things, I missed Alayna most.
I didn’t sleep that night.
THE SMALL SLIT OF A window beside the bed announced the coming to morning, their bright yellow sun blinding me when I tried to look at the outside world.
The door clicked and a different officer from last night opened the heavy entrance to my cell. “You posted bail.” This officer was much less gruff than the night before.
I sat up. “What does that mean?”
“It means someone paid for your crazy ass to get out, bud.” He motioned for me to follow him. When we got to the couches, he told me to sit, and I obliged. “I’ll be back with your paperwork.”
The room was empty, and I wondered if it was still early in the morning. A clock above the silent metal box had a short hand on the number seven. I wasn’t sure what time that meant, exactly.
The paperwork took an eternity. A little past eight, the officer came back and handed me a stack of papers to sign. He watched diligently, his hands tucked around his weapons, as I signed with the dry ink capsule he gave me to use.
The last page was a bright pink slip of paper with typewritten ink. “IMPOUND.”
“What is this?”
He looked over my shoulder. “It looks like they impounded your vehicle.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means you’ll have to contact them and pay to get your car out.”
“Delilah is more than a car,” I tried out the unfamiliar word.
“Delilah, huh?” He chuckled. “I had a motorcycle once, named her Gretel. We get attached to our stuff, don’t we?”
“Please sir, what is a ‘motorcycle’?”
The officer frowned me. “Boy, you don’t know what a motorcycle is?”
“No.”
“It’s a, well, more like a bicycle with an engine?” He looked confused.
“Bicycle?”
“Never mind. Were you raised in one of those Jones’s cults or something?”
“Cult? No, sir,” I told him. Who was Jones? “But I do come from far away.”
“That explains why you didn’t have any ID, I guess.” He shrugged. “You done there?”
I handed him the paperwork. “Yes, sir.”
“By God, you’re the politest inmate I’ve ever had in ten years of work.” He chuckled as he said it. “Wish they were more like you. Come on.”
Outside the doors to the cells, a woman officer—They let women work with criminals? Shouldn’t they be home with their children?—handed my clothes over, my goggles folded neatly on top. I pulled them over my curly hair first, feeling the one comfort of home.
Who had bailed me out? Surely it was Alayna. I wondered what “bail” was and how much it had cost. A few gold pieces, I’m sure. If it was too much, I’d have to ask Victor to pay her back. I’d already done too much damage.
The officer let me out the back door into the harsh sunlight. I had never wanted the red sun of home so badly. I threw my goggles over my eyes and adjusted to the brightness. Before my eyes could recognize anything, I felt a hand grip mine. “Come on,” Alayna’s voice said, “you must be exhausted.”
I couldn’t clearly make out her face beside me, but I channeled a small spark into her hand, just so she knew I heard her.
She shook off my hand. “Really, Sebastian? Is that how you say thank you? When I spent the money I’d saved for a car on you?”
“Thank you,” I told her.
“Come on,” she motioned, “we have to take the bus, but it won’t take long. Dinga’s at my apartment. It’s small, but it’s something. At least, until I can get you both back to your home.” She walked toward a post at the end of the parking lot with a metal flag on it.
My shoulders sank as I sat down on the white bench next to her. “Don’t you mean our home? Alayna—”
“Not here,” she hissed at me, “later.”
A few minutes later, the thing Alayna had called a bus rumbled up the hill. It was square and long, almost the length of my workshop.
Black smoke came out of the back end like Delilah. “And they say my car isn’t road worthy,” I mumbled as I followed her through the sliding doors. Did all doors slide open for people in this world? Except for the ones in the Quod, which they opened not with keys but
small rectangular cards?
The bus ride wasn’t a long one, but Alayna’s silence bothered me. The last time I’d seen her I couldn’t get her to shut up. None of us could. Now I found the only thing I wanted to hear was her voice.
We stopped in front of another three-story complex, but unlike the Quod, this was clearly a living place. A small fenced area to the right contained laughing children and some bright green play equipment. The parking lot was full of cars, and a few older girls and boys stood around a miniature automaton car that was moving of its own free wheel.
“Remote control.” She noticed I was staring. She pointed to a little girl with cropped hair, holding a black box with two antennae jutting out the top.
“Fascinating. A car that is wireless and steam power.”
“Wait until you see my computer.” She laughed. “Come on, I’m on the second level.”
I followed her up the stairs. “Computer? Like the metal boxes in your shop?”
“It’s not my shop, I just work there.” She stopped in front of the third door on the right. “And yes, like those metal boxes, but smaller. And has, uh, moving pictures and typing.”
“Fascinating,” I said again.
She produced a key and turned it in the lock. “Sorry it’s a bit of a mess, it was finals week and I was cramming all last week.”
“Pardon, what are finals, and why did you need to cram them?”
“They are—”
“Mistress!”
Dinga hopped on one leg just inside the door as she opened it. “Those crick-cuts were delicious! May Dinga have more?”
Alayna smiled at him. “I’ll go to the pet store later, Dinga.” She looked at me. “Take a seat.”
“Where?” I looked around. A small table on the far side of the room was stacked with narrow boxes marked “pizza,” whatever that was, and papers littered the room. Heavy, thick books marked “Math” and “History of the United States” stacked up on the lone lounge pushed against one wall.
Alayna blushed, her normally pink cheeks flushing a deeper red. “Sorry,” she cleared away the books and papers from the wide lounge. I sank into it, not feeling the hard, wooden backing. It wasn’t until then I realized how tired I was and fought to keep my eyes open.
“Dinga, will you get Sebastian some water? Remember I showed you the cups and the water from the fridge?” She pulled a green chair up in front of me.
“Oh yes!” Dinga skipped away, to a side room with white cabinets. “Master, she has a waterfall in her fridge. It is remarkable. My Eisha would love a waterfall in our village.”
He chattered away, but I was too focused on Alayna, who was staring expectedly at me. “What is all this?” I motioned to the mess around me.
“I’m a college student now,” she blurted.
“What is college?”
“Like school, for adults. I take classes in the morning and work in the afternoon and night.”
“School? For adults?” I shook my head. I was very tired, but I had to stay awake.
“Yes,” she was nearly beaming “It’s community college, but still, it’s a good place to start.
“School, new house... Alayna, you have done so much in two cycles?”
“Sebastian, it’s been three months since I saw you last. Not two years.” She must have seen my confused look when she added, “less than half of a cycle.”
“What?” If I hadn’t been so exhausted, I would have jumped up from her comfortable lounge. “Half a cycle?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Time just works differently,” she looked at her hands. “You saw my mother. She wasn’t a day over thirty cycles when I saw her last, and in your world, she was closer to fifty. Time moves slower here.”
“It’s been two cycles since you left,” I told her, leaning forward.
She gasped. “You said that, but I thought you had it wrong. Two years, Sebastian? What in the world have you been doing?” She frowned. “And what happened to—”
“Well, everything progresses much worse, I’m afraid,” I told her gravely. “It took Victor two cycles to figure out how to retrieve you. You must come back to Elestra.”
“Well, I’m not,” she affirmed.
I wanted to hold her hand again, but I resisted. I had a feeling she wouldn’t like it. Plus, though I wasn’t above begging, I thought there must be another way to convince her. A thought occurred to me. “Your father allowed all this?” I motioned to the building around us.
“I don’t give a shit about my father,” her words were so blunt they shocked me. “I moved out of my father’s house and into this place. It’s not the best neighborhood, but it’s a roof and four walls.”
“I meant, your father allowed you to live alone, and travel on that bus-thing without an escort?”
She actually laughed at me. I frowned.
“Women aren’t fragile. We go where we want, do what we want.”
“Strange,” I muttered.
Dinga appeared and shoved a glass in my hand. “The waterfall water is the best water, you’ll see.” He settled next to Alayna, his legs crossed under him.
With both of them looking at me so expectedly, I took a sip. Dinga was right. It was clear and crisp, as if poured from a stream.
“Your world is strange,” I downed the glass of pure liquid, “but I do rather like this.”
“Dinga told you so,” the nearly naked demon said excitedly.
“My mother, the keeper,” she blurted, “spill.”
“Spill what?” I looked down at the glass in my hand. “Why would I want to spill this?”
“Tell me what happened,” Alayna rolled her eyes.
“It is a sad story, mistress, shall I fetch a tissue?” Dinga asked.
Alayna shook her head but smiled at him. “I’m sure I’ll be okay, but thank you, Dinga.”
“As I said, the keeper has her, but I’m exhausted, Alayna. May chance I can rest before delving into the story?”
She sighed, and I could see she was frustrated, but she nodded. “All right. You just rest there. I’ll cook up some dinner.”
I dozed off for a little while, with Alayna and Dinga chatting the kitchen. The bang of pots and pans and the sizzling of a skillet were comforting sounds that helped me drift to sleep.
“How do you feel about spaghetti?”
I awoke with a start and pushed myself into a sitting position. “How long did I slumber?”
“About an hour,” she pushed a plate at me.
“I know not what this is,” I looked down at the swirl of noodles on my plate. Noodles I’d seen, but the red sauce on top was mixed with meat and red and green vegetables. “Does it have thin potatoes and meat sticks from your, I mean, the shop you work for?” I gingerly took my first bite. Hints of tomato and cheese, with bits of sausage. Interesting.
“Do you like it?” Alayna laughed. “And meat sticks? What?”
“It’s delicious,” I found my appetite at last. “The...” I stumbled over the words with my mouth full, swallowing fast to maintain my decorum. “The bags that I tried to steal.”
“Potatoes chips and beef jerky?”
“Jerky?”
“It’s dried meat.”
“Why not just call it dried meat?”
“I don’t know. It’s called advertising.”
“What is the reasoning behind that?”
“Good God,” Alayna slapped her thighs and stood. “I can’t explain advertising to someone like you.”
“Like me?” I set my empty plate aside and stood with her. “What do you insinuate?”
She patted me on the shoulder. “Never mind, Sebastian.”
As she dropped her hand, I caught her fingertips, splaying her hand into mine. I leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “I missed your fire and spirit,” I whispered, touching my forehead to hers.
“I missed you.”
“Mistress, the oven!” Dinga called from the kitchen.
“Oh, damn!” She swore, which always shocked me, and rushed to her kitchen.
I followed her, in time to see a plume of gray smoke float from the oven as she pulled out a tray with blackened rounds of bread.
“I burned it,” she looked at me, helplessly.
I reached around her and grabbed a towel from the front of her icebox and waved it in the air. As the smoke dissipated, an alarm sounded, a series of loud beeps.
Dinga covered his head and cowered. “Have they found us, mistress?” He yelled.
“The smoke detector!” She rushed down the hallway at the back, waving another towel high above her head. In a short time, the beeping stopped.
She reappeared in the kitchen. “I’m sorry, I’m not a very good cook.”
“It’s all right. It was good food.” I looked at the smoking platter on the stove. “Though this, I fear, is not edible.”
“No,” she picked up the platter with her towel and dumped it in a tall white bin nearby. She sighed. “I tried.”
“Yes, you did,” I bounced from foot to foot. “May we sit so I can tell you your mother’s tale, now?”
“Yes, please.” We went back to the lounge and this time she sat beside me. It was welcome.
Dinga curled up in her chair nearby and promptly fell asleep. I was a bit jealous.
I told Alayna the story the same as Victor had regaled it, thought I was not there to see it happen.
Her mother had been taken by the Keeper while Victor and Edwin were on patrol. Their house had been burned to the ground by the Keeper’s metal dragons.
Victor’s house was a pile of smoldering ashes when he returned, with only the frame of the door left standing. A white parchment note was tacked to the frame, which read, “If you want to see your queen alive you will bring me the marlita and the heir. Time is of the essence.”
“Oh no,” Alayna interrupted me. She wrung her hands in her lap, still holding the towel she had used to stop the machine from beeping earlier. “Is she, is she alive?”
“We think so,” I nodded. “At least, Edwin thinks so. He’s beside himself.”
“Why?”
“Well, he’s...” I looked at her. How could she not know, at least by now? I decided to keep the secret for a little longer. “...obviously upset, as Victor is, to see our queen taken captive.”
Clock City Page 13