False Dawn: Ageless Mysteries - Book 2 Read online

  Contents

  Title

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Character List

  Places

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  THANK YOU

  ALSO BY THE AUTHOR

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  FALSE DAWN

  Ageless Mysteries - Book 2

  Vanessa Nelson

  FALSE DAWN

  Ageless Mysteries - Book 2

  Vanessa Nelson

  Copyright © 2021 Vanessa Nelson

  All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction.

  All characters and events in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to any real person, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Reproduction in whole or in part of this publication without express written consent is strictly prohibited.

  Click or visit:

  http://www.taellaneth.com

  For Grant and Claire - a little bit of adventure after a year and more of not being able to go out and have our own.

  Much love.

  Character List

  Alayla - goddess of war and fire (from the time before the Ageless)

  Algar Hobbs - human, Watchman, minds the desk at the Captain’s Watch Station

  Ambrose Twist - owner of curiosity shop

  Caroline March - human, skilled apothecary, Thea’s mother

  Delilah Soames - human, herbalist in Brightfield

  Dina Soter - chief scientific examiner for the Watch

  Dorcas - Ageless-born, supervisor in the Citadel Treasury

  Drew - human, older Watchman at Brightfield

  Edmund Anderson - human, woodworker in Brightfield

  Edris - Ageless, Archon of the known worlds

  Everson - human, Watchman at Brightfield

  Fliss Hobbs - human, Watch Officer (niece of Algar Hobbs)

  Genric Smith - human, lute maker in Brightfield

  Gilbert - cat, lives with Thea and her mother

  Harris - human, Watchman at Brightfield

  Henrietta Miller - human, trader in rare plants working in Accanter

  Hern - horse borrowed by Thea

  Hobbs - human, Watchman, nephew of Algar Hobbs

  Hugh Goddard - human, carpenter working for one of the larger craftsman, widower

  Iason Pallas - human, doctor in charge of the city morgue

  Jirkar - human, leader of the market gang

  Konrada - goddess of wisdom (from the time before the Ageless)

  Laurelle - Ageless - archivist of the Citadel

  Linus - human, youngest member of the market gang

  Margo Corris - human, stall holder at Wheatcroft market

  Matthew Shand - night kind, leader of the fiandar clan in Accanter

  Milo - human, one of the members of the market gang

  Niath - mage, based at the Citadel

  Odilia Trant - human, mage assigned to the city watch

  Parker - human, clerk working in Brightfield House with Dina and Iason

  Piet Riga - human, sells jewellery at Accanter market places

  Reardon - Ageless, one of the garrison commanders at the Citadel

  Sam - human, groom from the Citadel

  Simon - Ageless-born, paid worker in the Citadel Treasury

  Sutter - human, Senior Sergeant of the Watch

  Thea (Althea) March - junior law officer, Caroline’s daughter

  Udele Percy - human, friends with Odilia, skilled jeweller

  Vasos - human, one of the members of the market gang

  Ware Handerson - captain of the Watch

  Waters - human, Mage, senior Mage of the Citadel

  Winchell - Ageless, Treasurer at the Citadel

  William Young - human, merchant in Brightfield

  Places

  Accanter - city where Thea and her mother live, home to the Archon

  Brightfield - former village, now part of Accanter - one of the Watch districts

  Brightfield House - former home of the lord of Brightfield, now headquarters for the Watch’s physician and scientific examiner

  Citadel - houses the Ageless and their soldiers, in the case of Accanter

  Cross Keys Tavern - tavern in Brightfield

  Fallowfield - former village, now part of Accanter - one of the Watch districts

  Highfield - former village, now part of Accanter - one of the Watch districts

  Institute of Scientific Enquiry - also known as the institute, part of Accanter, in the Watch district of Northcroft

  Lowcroft - former village, now part of Accanter - where Thea and her mother live

  Meadowcroft - former village, now part of Accanter - one of the Watch districts, borders the Citadel

  Middlefield - former village, now part of Accanter - one of the Watch districts, between Brightfield and Fallowfield - where the Watch Captain is based

  Northcroft - former village, now part of Accanter - one of the Watch districts, borders the Citadel

  Threshers Street - part of the Watch district of Wheatcroft

  Wheatcroft - former village, now part of the city of Accanter - one of the Watch districts

  CHAPTER ONE

  Thea glared at the parchment in front of her as if she could, by will alone, make the scrawled letters become clear and resolve themselves into coherent, complete words. Literacy was a basic requirement for the Watch, due to the nature of their jobs, but that did not mean that a Watchman’s handwriting had to be legible.

  The heavy black marks on the paper stayed stubbornly unresolved. In most places she was not even sure where one word ended and another began.

  She glared at the writing some more, wondering if anyone would notice if she simply set fire to it and asked the Watchman for a verbal report instead.

  But destroying a Watchman’s report would get her into trouble, rather than the Watchman.

  And the Sergeant had made it clear that she needed to have the weekly report ready by morning. Just in time for him to sign his name to it and send it off to the Watch Captain.

  The Sergeant was supposed to compile these weekly reports himself. But he had delegated the task to Thea for the past few weeks. She had swallowed her objections. The rest of the Watchmen and women in Brightfield Station tolerated her, little more. Reading through the reports and compiling the weekly update at least gave her a glimpse into what was happening in her district. The petty thefts. The occasional domestic argument. A tavern brawl or two. Almost all perfectly routine. The sorts of things that the Watch dealt with day in and day out.

  Setting aside the illegible report, she picked up the next one instead. At least she could read the handwriting. And the spelling was creative enough to require her full attention to decipher.

  She was alone in the building. The day shift was almost done and the
night shift had not yet arrived. So she permitted herself to say one, carefully chosen, curse word, and then bent her head to the report.

  It felt like only moments later that the station’s front door slammed open, snapping her out of her focus.

  Thea turned and blinked.

  No. She was not seeing things.

  There was a small, middle-aged man in the doorway. He had a slightly rounded face that was currently wearing a frown. He was dressed in the sort of robes that she associated with merchants, floor-length, made of heavy fabric in a deep russet colour and embroidered with metallic thread that gleamed in the early evening light, the collar and cuffs of a white shirt showing at the neck and sleeves of the robes.

  And he had a blue head.

  His face was a normal colour, skin as pale as her own, but his scalp, from where his hairline should be, was entirely blue.

  “Watch!” he shouted.

  “Sir,” Thea said, getting up from her desk and making her way to the front of the room. As she moved, she realised some of her hair had come loose from its pins. She shoved it back into place and replaced the pins. The heavy, dark mass had a mind of its own. By the time she reached the man, she was tidy again. “How can I help?”

  “Are you the only one here?” he said, rocking back on his heels. He blinked up at her, as if taken aback by her height. She stood taller than many men. He was small for a human, holding himself upright. The robes he wore were well-made garments. The sort that were expensive to buy but which lasted for years.

  “Yes, sir. The night shift aren’t on duty yet,” she added. “How can I help?”

  “Can’t you find me someone more senior to deal with?” he demanded. “You’re just a girl.”

  “I am a Watch Officer, sir,” Thea said, biting the inside of her lip to hide a smile. She stood taller than most men and that seemed to make most people assume she was older. Very few people called her a girl.

  “Really? You look far too young. Are you sure there isn’t anyone else?” he asked, looking around the room as if he was hoping someone else would turn up.

  “No, sir. If you will sit down, and tell me how I can help?” Thea suggested, pointing to the nearest table which, by luck, had a pair of mismatched wooden stools on either side. She took out her notebook and settled at the far side of the desk, and waited.

  The man stared at her for a moment, one of his hands creeping towards his head. He saw her eyes following his motion and seemed to come to a decision, taking the other stool.

  Once he had settled and she had a chance to look more closely, Thea could see that the dye was unevenly spread across his head providing a patchwork of different shades from the pale blue of an early summer sky to the deeper hue of freshly dyed cloth. There was a faint smell she thought she recognised as one of the medicinal herbs her mother used.

  Now he was sitting down, he seemed lost for words, mouth opening and closing, brows drawn together in a scowl. He was not angry with her, Thea sensed. But he was angry.

  “How can help?” she asked again.

  “I want to make a complaint.”

  “Of course. Your name?”

  “Young. William Young.” He gave her an address for good measure. It was a street not far away that a few merchants had recently moved into. The houses were a fair size, and it was an easy walk to the docks. Convenient for merchants to meet their ships and inspect their cargo. And it fit with the expensive, understated clothes he wore.

  “Thank you. And what do you want to complain about, sir?”

  “This!” He pointed to his head.

  “It’s not supposed to be that colour?” Thea guessed.

  “Of course not. Why in the name of the Ageless would I want a blue head?”

  “Of course, sir. What was supposed to happen?”

  He shut his mouth and glared at her, colour rising in his face. Anger replaced by embarrassment.

  “If you want to make a complaint, I am happy to investigate. But I do need to know what you were expecting,” Thea said, keeping her voice as calm as she could.

  “It was a special soap,” the man said, the words dragged out of him. “It’s supposed to help with-” He waved his hand at his scalp. “I’m too young to be bald,” he added, chin lifting.

  “A hair regrowth soap?” Thea asked, making a note. “Where did you buy it from?”

  “That witch Delilah Soames.” He spat out the name as if the words could conjure the woman from thin air.

  “At the large market? She has a stall there,” Thea said. She had passed through the market more than once, trying to get familiar with her new station’s district. She vaguely remembered an old woman selling herbal remedies.

  “That’s her. Lying wench.”

  “So, she sold you soap and instead of doing what it was supposed to, it’s left you with a dyed head,” Thea summarised.

  Something about her manner seemed to calm him a little. Enough that he sat back slightly in his seat and nodded, pulling a cap that matched his robes out of a pocket and settling it on to his head, tugging the cap down around his ears, covering the blue dye.

  “Well?” he asked. Still angry. And embarrassed.

  “I’ll visit Delilah Soames tomorrow,” Thea promised. “Do you have any of the soap left?”

  “Yes.” He reached into another pocket of his robes and brought out a small pottery jar, sealed with a wooden lid. “Careful not to get it on your skin,” he added, putting it onto the table.

  It was only then that Thea realised that his fingertips and palms were also stained blue.

  “If you want something to remove the stain, you might try Caroline March in Lowcroft,” she suggested, the words out before she knew she was going to make the offer. Despite the vanity that had prompted William Young to visit Delilah Soames, Thea found she felt sorry for him. She knew what it was like to be different.

  “Caroline March. I’ve heard of her. She’s supposed to be good,” he said, calming down further.

  “She is,” Thea confirmed, then her mouth lifted in a smile. “She’s also my mother.”

  Caroline March had chosen this city for them so that they could be lost among the ever-changing population. There had been so many people displaced thanks to the Archon’s never-ending wars and Accanter drew in many of them. The city was relatively safe, far away from the fighting.all sorts of people, and there were plenty of widows with young children looking to make a fresh start.

  Her mother’s careful planning had worked. No one had questioned their arrival, or their stories. An apothecary and her daughter were far from the strangest newcomers to the city. Thea’s mother had been able to set up her apothecary’s shop and establish a thriving business without raising any suspicion. And Thea had been able to blend in.

  And it seemed that her mother’s skill was more widely known than even Thea had suspected, if this merchant had heard of her.

  There was no more time for talk as a pair of Watchmen on the night shift arrived into the building. Early, Thea noted, and wondered why.

  They lifted their brows at the sight of her and the merchant, but left them alone, going instead to the back of the room, fetching crossbows from the rack there.

  “Once I’ve spoken with Delilah, I’ll update you,” Thea promised, rising to her feet. She did not want the other Watchmen interfering, and suspected that William, now that his anger was gone, would much rather that no one else saw his blue hands.

  “Of course. Good. Thank you, officer,” he said, getting to his feet as well. He nodded to her and then left the building.

  “What did he want?” one of the Watchmen asked.

  “Complaint about defective goods,” Thea said, closing her notebook before either of them were close enough to try and read her writing.

  “Dull stuff,” the other Watchman said. “Give me a tavern brawl any day.”

  The first Watchman agreed, and the pair of them headed out into the night. Still early for their shift.

  Leaving Thea t
o shake her head at the empty room. She was looking forward to finding out what explanation Delilah Soames would have for the merchant’s blue scalp.

  ~

  The market, and Delilah Soames’ stall, would not be open for some hours yet. And there was still the weekly report to finish. Thea returned to the desk she had been using and the pile of papers, wondering if there might be any more incidents of strange side-effects from soap among them.

  It seemed far too short a time before she was left with only the illegible report to review. There had been nothing of particular interest in the other reports. City dwellers were generally just trying to live their lives. They even paid their taxes on time. Mostly because if they failed to do so, the Ageless would send the Archon’s soldiers into the city and burn their possessions. It had been at least a year since that had happened. An effective deterrent, the Ageless would call it. Thea had other words for the punishment. Severe was just one.

  Still, the Watch were kept busy enough. And Thea needed to include all the incidents into her report. The report that the Sergeant would take credit for.

  After failing to make any sense of even the first few lines of the Watchman’s handwriting, Thea was sorely tempted to find the Watchman and make him write the whole thing out again.

  Except that the Watchman in question was one of the long-standing members of this station, and a favourite of the Sergeant. And as little as she might like the Sergeant, he was protective of his favourites, and they were loyal to him. It would do no good to complain.

  So she muttered a curse under her breath and started trying to read the page again.

  A shadow fell over her and she looked up to find one of the junior Watchmen hovering nearby. He looked a little nervous, as if unsure of his welcome, and she wondered just what expression she was wearing.

  “Did you need something?” she asked him, making an effort to keep her face and voice calm. It was not his fault that the Sergeant had assigned her the task of sorting through the week’s reports.