(Author'Note: This chapter is dedicated to jinnis and her ONC 2021 medieval adventure story, Raven's Heir. )

The room was silent, except for the rhythmic ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner and the occasional spit from the logs burning in the fireplace.

The clockmaker was working late. Crouched over his worktable, he adjusted the lamp, then held his breath as he gently eased the last tiny spring into place. Then he heard a faint sound at his back.

He froze, was there someone else in the room? He spun around on the stool, but the room was empty. Nothing in it except for the clocks and the furniture, and the shadows cast by the flickering fire.

He shook his head with a rueful smile. He was tired and beginning to imagine things. Old houses creaked from time to time, especially as floorboards cooled in the night air.

He took a sip from the water glass, carefully placed on a separate stool away from the work area, then turned back to the worktable. The carriage clock was a beautiful piece – it deserved his best attention. He gave the gilt and enamel a final polish with a soft cloth, then sat back. There, the job was done, ready to be returned to the owner on the following day as promised.

The clockmaker rubbed his eyes and stretched. The tools of his trade were scattered over the worktable and he yawned as he tidied them away, already looking forward to his bed. As he shut the last drawer, he felt a cold shiver cross the back of his neck.

Someone walking over my grave, he thought.

As he made his way upstairs, he heard the clocks chime three.

~~~

Rik picked his way along the slippery cobblestones, trying to hurry. Having grown up with flat, smooth pavements, he found cobblestones tricky to negotiate, despite having lived here in Mercer for a year, and usually found himself treading cautiously. But this morning he was in a hurry, eager to get to his appointment. His ten o'clock appointment with Ari.

Rik realized he was smiling. He'd only met Ari a week ago when he was searching for an expert clockmaker to mend the duke's carriage clock, but something had just "clicked" between them. They had both smiled a lot and talked and Ari had taken him upstairs for a cup of coffee in the kitchen, something he didn't offer to do for everyone.

Today was a business appointment, but Rik was planning to invite Ari out for a drink afterwards, and then perhaps, if all went well, a proper date...

He turned the corner, into a street lined with terraced buildings on both sides, most of them small shops with living quarters above. Intricately carved woodwork decorated the shop fronts, framing the panelled glass. Rik frowned as he neared Ari's building. The shop was still dark, the lamps unlit. Odd, since Ari was expecting him. He checked his pocket watch. Surely he hadn't got the time wrong? But no, it was ten minutes to ten. A little early to be sure, but... Something didn't feel right.

He knocked at the door and peered inside the window. He could see the counter, shelves lined with clocks behind it, a couple of display cabinets and two chairs ready for waiting customers. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary except for the fact that it was dark and there was no-one there. He knocked again, loudly. Maybe Ari had slept in.

Rik grasped the door handle and turned it, just in case, but the door was locked. He should have found that reassuring but... he didn't. Ari was a professional, one of the best clockmakers in the city and highly regarded, and he wouldn't have forgotten a business appointment, not unless something was wrong. Was he ill? Worried, Rik stood back and stared up at the top story windows. The curtains were still drawn.

He chewed his lip. He supposed the sensible thing would be to go away and come back later, but he was too worried to be sensible. After a quick glance around, he slipped a small tool case from his pocket. Moments later, the door swung open and Rik stepped inside. He closed the front door then made for the stairs in the corner.

Ari was probably exhausted, sound asleep, he told himself. Rik would apologise, profusely, when he woke him, and they'd have a good laugh.

"Hello? Ari?" he called as he climbed the stairs. "It's me, Rik Sandro. I've come for the clock. Are you awake?"

Silence.

"Everything all right?"

Rik had only been as far as the kitchen before but he could see there was a workroom on the other side of the passage. After a quick look to check that Ari was not in either room, he continued up to the top floor, his steps slowing with each tread. Something was badly wrong. Ari could scarcely have failed to hear him with all the noise he was making.

His heart in his mouth, Rik pushed open the door to Ari's room, half hoping to find it empty. Ari was on the bed, sprawled flat on his back, his arms stretched out to each side and his eyes staring up at the ceiling. Unblinking.

"No!" Rik didn't realise he'd spoken aloud. He ran across to the bed, feeling for the pulse which he already knew would not be there.

Ari was dead.