Clockwork Dream

i The Clock Tower

A sonorous bell rang out causing the panels beneath the young man's feet to hum rhythmically. The tones chimed for the quarter hour, then a pause before the recognizable voice of Big Ben tolled. It sang in E natural, imperceptibly flat due to a crack it had received before its christening. It reminded him of a musician he'd once known who refused to perform in London again because his well-tuned ears were too sensitive to the strange note ringing at all hours night and day. The clockmaker's apprentice preferred to think of that as one of the Clock Tower's many eccentricities.

After the twelfth and final bell, the last note hung in the air, filling it with an electric spark of life before finally fading into the void of the night. He stood silently, eyes closed, straining his ears to catch the last whisper of sound. No matter how many times he heard them, the midnight chimes carried a magic that was entirely their own.

"Leo, I should have known you'd be up here," a familiar voice called, causing him to jump, released from his trance. It was Jonathan Raymond, his mentor and closest friend. He was a towering hulk of a man with burly shoulders and a bellowing voice in contrast to Leo's thin frame at least. His fingers could be trusted with even the most fragile thread though; an engineer at heart.

"Where else would I be when I have the best seat in the house?" He said.

"Oh I don't know, maybe out for a night on the town just like every single other boy your age who lives in the city."

"But if I was like everyone else I would be terribly dull."

Jonathan snorted. "With all your talk of bells and gears it's no great surprise you can't convince a young lady to sit with you for more than a few minutes before she faints of boredom."

"Just because I don't spend my time chatting up women doesn't mean I have nothing to talk about."

"I feel like your old landlord would beg to differ."

Leo's cheeks flushed red as the unwanted memory surfaced. He'd taken to sleeping in his workshop beneath the great pendulum so often, that his landlord started renting out his apartment to a young couple while still collecting his payments. It had taken him nearly a month to spot the ruse.

Jonathan laughed at his obvious embarrassment then clapped him on the shoulder. "The nights still young you know, it's not too late to get a life."

"I have a life!"

"Don't tell me you weren't planning to lock yourself up with your machines for the next few hours."

He really couldn't argue with that. "Fine, I'll go out tomorrow." It was the only thing he could think of to get the man to leave him alone about it.

"Tomorrow! Tomorrow is Sunday, no one goes out on a Sunday night. I tell you what, I'll take you with me right now. I might be older than dirt but I still know how to have a good time!" Jonathan declared. He wrapped a massive hand around Leo's wrist and pulled him to his feet.

Begrudgingly Leo allowed himself to be dragged towards the stairwell. Once Jonathan set his mind to something there was no changing it. At the very least he hoped his wrist wouldn't bruise. His friend really didn't know his own strength.

***

The Masquerade had been a central hub of London night-life for as long as anyone could remember. The food was decent and the music danceable but any number of high-profile clubs could have surpassed it in those regards. What it really offered was anonymity. True to it's name, every patron was required to wear a mask. Under the eerie glow of the alchemical lights even the most notorious face was easily forgotten. As a result there were people from all walks of life, rich young dukes basking in the glory of youth, old cut-purses drinking away the bad memories, and women of all ages dressed to show a scandalous amount of skin. Even among such diverse company, Leo was absolutely certain that he was not meant to be there.