The Phenomenals: A Tangle of Traitors Read Free Page B

bloody entrails of a dead body.
    ‘The Thief, the Traitor and Death,’ ventured Citrine doubtfully. She looked at Suma, who smiled approvingly. ‘What does it mean?’
    ‘Remember what I said?’ said Suma. ‘The art of card-spreading cannot be taught. I can only guide you, and even then there is no guarantee that you will succeed.’
    ‘I see no answers about my father,’ said Citrine. ‘I’m just not good enough, am I?’
    Suma touched her lightly on the arm. ‘Citrine, you understand the cards better than most, but there are many ways they can be interpreted. Sometimes, the harder you look for answers, the
more questions you throw up. And, remember, some will believe in them blindly, others will heed only the cards that promise good fortune and the rest, like Edgar, will dismiss them
altogether.’ She looked down at the doom-laden cards before her. ‘Only time will tell how these play out.’

C HAPTER 4
     
T HE F IRST G IFT
    ‘Spletivus!’ oathed Vincent in admiration. ‘
That’s
what I call a clock.’
    After nearly a day’s walking Vincent was worn out, but his fatigued spirits were invigorated by the sight before him. He stood now in Mercator Square, in the heart of the city of
Degringolade, staring up at the magnificent Kronometer. The tower was constructed from thirteen close-set burnished steel columns and the mechanical workings of the clock were clearly visible
between them; numerous golden interlocking cogs turned haltingly in alternate directions, and a gleaming black pendulum swung back and forth, hissing as it passed through its wide arc, causing
shards of reflected moonlight to shoot off into the night sky.
    Inscribed into an angled slab at the base of the tower were the words:
     
    Omnes vulnerant, postuma necat
     
    ‘ “All hours wound, the last kills”,’ said a voice, causing Vincent to jump. ‘Cheerful, eh?’
    Vincent turned to see a young boy at his side.
    ‘New to town, are you?’
    Vincent nodded, quickly assessing the youth and concluding that he was not a threat. ‘And I am confused by your clock,’ he laughed, pointing at the clock face. ‘The dark tells
me that it is evening, but what in Aether is the time?’
    Vincent was right to be confused. The Kronometer’s face was round and numbered as usual, but it was also divided into four parts. Each part had a large letter – N, L, P and C –
and a separate small dial.
    ‘Nox, Lux, Prax and Crex,’ said the youth helpfully. ‘Night, day, afternoon and evening. In Antithica the light is divided into four segments, Nox being the longest, Crex the
shortest. The segment hand has just touched Crex and the dial hand is on six, so it is 6 Crex.
    ‘You mean six o’clock?
    ‘Nanyone says it like that round here. You’ll learn – if you stay, that is.’ The youth touched his hand to his left shoulder and hurried off.
    ‘Hmm,’ mused Vincent. ‘We’ll see about that.’
    Quickly, unnoticed, Vincent slipped in behind one of the columns of the tower. Instantly he was hidden from view, as he liked to be. He began to climb, using the internal
latticework of the structure as rungs, until he was high enough to look down on the marketplace and the surrounding buildings below. He settled in, quite securely, behind the pendulum, disturbing a
flock of corvids as he did so. He blew on his hands, the metal was cold, and contemplated his position, both metaphorically and literally.
    You could learn a lot about a place when no one knew you were there.
    Casting an eye over the city Vincent could see that it was a place worthy of the Kronometer. The buildings were constructed from a curious combination of stone and metal. The rooftops were
steeply pitched and were made from brazen sheets of riveted metal rather than tiles. The skyline was a ragged silhouette of domes and steeples, pinnacles and cupolas. Grotesques and gargoyles and
dripstones were in abundance under the eaves, and all about decidedly lifelike stone corvids