The Slow Regard of Silent Things: A Kingkiller Chronicle Novella (The Kingkiller Chronicle) (3 page)

A second later she claw-clambered her way up again. This time her free hand caught the stone edge of the pool.

Auri heaved the thing out of the water, and it struck the stone floor with the sound of a bell. It was a bright brass gear, big as a platter. Thicker than her thumb with some to spare. It had a hole in the middle, nine teeth, and a jagged gap where a tenth had long ago been torn away.

It was full of true answers and love and hearthlight. It was beautiful.

Auri smiled and heaved up half a stomachful of water on the stones. Then heaved again, turning her head so that it didn’t splash against the bright brass gear. She coughed then, took a mouthful of water, and spat it back into the pool. The brass gear lay heavy as a heart on the cold stones of The Yellow Twelve. The light from up above made the surface of it shimmerant and gold. It looked like a piece of sun she’d brought up from the deep.

Auri coughed again and shivered. Then she reached out and touched it with one finger. She smiled to look at it. Her lips were blue. She trembled. Her heart was full of joy.

After she pulled herself out of the water, Auri looked around the pool at the bottom of The Twelve. Though she knew better, she hoped to see Foxen bobbing idly on the surface.

Nothing.

Her face was solemn then. She thought of going back. But no. Three times. That was the way of things. But the thought of leaving Foxen in the dark was enough to put a fine, thin crack straight through her heart. To lose him after all this time. . . .

Then Auri caught a glimpse of something deep below the surface. A glint. A glow. She grinned. Foxen looked for all the world like a great bumbrous firefly as he bobbled and bumped his slow way slowly up through all the tangled pipes.

She waited five long minutes, watching Foxen’s bottle bob and drift until it finally popped up to the surface like a duck. Then she caught it up and kissed it. She held it to her chest. Oh yes. It was well worth it, doing things the proper way.

First things first. Auri freed Foxen from the bottle and set it next to the others on the wall. Then she headed down to Clinks and rinsed herself in the roiling water there. Then she washed herself, using up the slender remnant of a cake of soap that smelled of cinnas fruit and summer.

After soaping and scrubbing and cleaning her hair, Auri dove into the endless black water of Clinks to rinse herself one final time. Under the surface, something brushed against her. Something slick and heavy pressed its moving weight against her leg. It did not bother her. Whatever it was, it was in its proper place and so was she. Things were just as they should be.

Dripping clean and wringing out her hair, Auri headed off through Tenners. Not the quickest way, but it would be unseemly to head through Dunnings in nothing but her pinkness. But even taking the longer way, it wasn’t long before she turned the corner into Bakers, wet feet slapping on the stone. She rested Foxen on a piece of jutting brick nearby, as he wasn’t fond of too much heat.

The thick steel pipes along the tunnel’s wall were too hot to stand near today, and the walls and floor had been basking until they too were all crickly with heat. Auri spun in a slow circle to keep any part of her tender altogether from getting roasted by the silent red roar pouring off the pipes. It was only moments before the place had dried her skin, set her fine hair floating, and cooked the shivers from her icy bones.

After that she fetched her favorite dress from The Yellow Twelve. She slid it over her head, then carried all her treasures back to Port where she arranged them on the central table.

The leather belt was etched in odd curling patterns. The great brass gear was bright straight through. The key was black as black. The buckle though, it was black with bright beneath. It was a hidden thing.

Might the buckle be for him? That would be a good beginning to the day. A nice thing to have settled early on, his gift all ready with his visit days away.

Auri eyed the buckle sharply. Was it a proper gift for him? He
was
a tangled sort. And he was much hidden, too. Nodding, she reached out to touch the cool dark metal.

But no. It didn’t suit him. She should have known. He was not a one for fastening. For holding closed. Neither was he dark. Oh no. He was emberant. Incarnadine. He was bright with better bright beneath, like copper-gilded gold.

The gear would need consideration. It almost felt like it could be for him—but that could wait. The key needed urgent tending. It was for certain the most restless of the lot. This wasn’t even a slim sliver of surprise. Keys were hardly known for their complacency, and this one was near howling for a lock. Auri picked it up and turned it in her hands. A door key. It wasn’t shy about the fact at all.

Black key. White day. She cocked her head. The shape of things was right. It was a finding day, and there was no doubt the poor thing badly wanted tending. She nodded to herself and slipped the key into the pocket of her dress.

Even so, before she left, Auri helped everything to find its proper place. The belt stayed on the central table, obviously. The buckle moved to rest beside the dish of resin. The bone nestled almost indecently close to the holly berry.

The gear was troublesome in this regard. She set it on the bookshelf, then moved it to the table in the corner. It leaned against the wall, the gap from its lost tooth pointing up into the air. Auri frowned. It wasn’t quite the proper place.

Auri brought out the key and held it in front of the gear. Black and brass. Both for turning. They had twelve teeth between them. . . .

She shook her head and sighed. She put the key back into her pocket and left the great brass gear on the bookshelf. It wasn’t the proper place for it, but it was the best that she could do for now.

Borough was closest, so Auri hurried there, ducking her head through the low stone doorways until she came to the first of its doors. Standing there, Auri cupped Foxen in her palm and huffed a gentle breath onto him, fanning his light. The wooden door was huge and grey with age, its hinges hardly more than flaking rust.

She drew the key out of her pocket and held it out in front of her, between herself and the great grey door. She looked back and forth between them, then turned and padded away. Three left turns and through a broken window to the second door, also old and grey, but larger than the first. Here she barely needed to glance at them before she knew the truth. This wasn’t right. These weren’t the proper doors. Where then? Tenners? Black Door?

She shivered. Not Black Door. Not on a white day. Wains instead. Then Tenners. Even Throughbottom. This was not a key for Black Door. No.

Auri hurried through Rubric, turning left twice and right twice for balance, making sure to never follow any of the pipes too far lest she offend. Next came Greely with its twisting ways and its sulfurant smell. She got a little lost there among the crumbling walls, but eventually made her right way to Crumbledon, a narrow dirt tunnel so steep it was little more than a hole. Auri scampered down on a long ladder made of lashed-together sticks.

The bottom of the ladder dropped into a tiny, tidy room of finished stone. It was no bigger than a closet, empty except for an old oak door all bound in brass. Auri brushed off her hands, swung the door open, and stepped lightly into Wains.

The hallway was wide enough to drive a wagon through. High-ceilinged and long enough that Foxen’s light could barely reach the tangle of debris that blocked the far end. Above her, blue-white light scattered off a crystal chandelier.

Dark wood paneling hugged the lower portion of the walls, but above that was ornate plasterwork. There were broad frescoes decorating the ceiling. Women in gauze lounged about, whispering and rubbing oil on each other. Men frolicked about in the water, flapping around ridiculously in their absolute altogether.

Auri took a moment to look at the pictures as she always did, grinning wickedly. She shifted her weight from side to side, the polished marble floor chill beneath her tiny feet.

Both ends of Wains were blocked by fallen rock and earth, but in the middle it was clean as a crucible. Everything dry and tight as you please. No damp. No mold. No drafts to bring in dust. Altogether men or no, it was a seemly place, so Auri was careful to comport herself with full decorum.

There were twelve oak doors lining the hall. All fine and tight and bound in brass. Over her long years in the Underthing, Auri had opened three of them.

She walked down the hall, Foxen glowing brightly in her upheld hand. After a dozen steps, a glimmer on the marble floor caught her eye. Skipping close, she saw a crystal had fallen from the chandelier to lay unbroken on the floor. It was a lucky thing, and brave. She picked it up and put it in the pocket that didn’t have the key inside. They would only fuss if they were put together.