Time Merchant

Chapter 2: Waltz in the Mist

The gray fog of the time prison coiled around Edwin's ankles like living chains. Instinctively, he grabbed Lin Xia's wrist—the woman he'd known for less than two hours, now the only tangible reality in this alien dimension.

"Don't touch the fog!" Lin Xia slapped his hand away, then knotted their sleeves together. "It eats memories." She bit her index finger and drew a blood rune on her copper coin sword. "Stay close, London boy."

Blood beads hovered in the air, forming a shimmering path. As Edwin ran after her, he noticed faint golden patterns glowing on the back of Lin Xia's neck, like liquid light on a circuit board.

"You're glowing," he blurted out.

Lin Xia stumbled. "What?" When she turned, the patterns vanished.

From the mist's depths came the whir of gears. Something icy coiled around Edwin's waist—Tabit's serpentine staff, its scales scraping his shirt.

"Look out!" Lin Xia's sword slashed down, breaking the staff in two. But instead of blood, the fracture spewed tiny bronze gears.

Edwin's pocket watch vibrated violently. The cover sprang open, three hands spinning wildly to project a holographic star map into the fog. Lin Xia gasped as her watch lit up too, the two star maps merging perfectly in mid-air.

"Twin watches..." her voice trembled. "I should have guessed..."

At the star map's center hovered a rotating hourglass city, while Tabit's scream echoed from the mist: "How dare you activate—"

The ground collapsed. As Edwin fell, he instinctively wrapped his arms around Lin Xia, shielding her. He smelled jasmine mixed with blood—a scent from her hair.

The fall lasted three heartbeats. When Edwin opened his eyes, he was pinning Lin Xia down, hands braced beside her ears. The position froze them both—her eyelashes were like resting butterflies in the starlight, her breath brushing his Adam's apple.

"G-get up," Lin Xia turned away, the tips of her ears red. Her push was more flustered than resistant.

Edwin rolled aside awkwardly, noticing they'd landed on a terrace of some European building. In the distance, seven moons hung in an indigo sky.

"Vienna," Lin Xia adjusted her collar, "1883."

Waltz music floated up from below. Leaning on the railing, Edwin saw a ball in the Golden Hall, ladies' crinolines blooming like flower buds. But when he squinted, some guests' faces were blurred, like oil paintings smudged by water.

"Ghostly ball in a time fold," Lin Xia checked her watch. "We fell into memory fragments."

Edwin's watch read: Remaining Time: 65 hours 49 minutes. Before he could speak, Lin Xia clamped a hand over his mouth—her palm warm with the tang of rust.

From downstairs came the hum of machinery. Three figures in Victorian gowns entered the dance floor. As they turned, Edwin saw copper vertebrae embedded in their skulls. One lady raised a fan that unfolded into a miniature difference engine.

"Hounds of the Chronos Committee," Lin Xia's lips brushed his ear. "Hold your breath."

Her breath made Edwin's ears burn. Suddenly, the watches shot a beam at a mantel clock in the ballroom corner.

"Time node!" Lin Xia pulled him down. "Every memory fragment has a core object. Destroy it to jump out."

"You said these are ghosts..."

"To you they are." Lin Xia suddenly unknotted his tie, bit her finger to draw a charm on the fabric. "Listen, I need you to be bait."

Before Edwin could protest, she shoved him toward the staircase. The mechanical guests turned in unison, their eye sockets revealing whirring brass gears instead of eyeballs.

"Run!" Lin Xia's voice echoed. "Circle the dance floor!"

The moment Edwin dashed into the hall, the music turned to a shrill metal scrape. The mechanical lady's fan flew, slicing off a lock of his hair. He stumbled through waltzing dancers, suddenly caught by a strong arm around his waist.

"Follow my lead." Lin Xia had changed into a corseted gown, its skirt embroidered with the lotus pattern from her watch. She spun him into the dance, steps precise as if rehearsed a thousand times.

"You know how to waltz?" Edwin stepped on her hem.

"Required for time merchants." Lin Xia suddenly pulled him close, their noses almost touching. "Now hold my waist and fall back on three."

At "two," Edwin guessed her plan—the clock was behind them. As Lin Xia's sword flew, he risked letting go, allowing inertia to hurl him into the clock face.

With the crash of shattering glass, the world flipped again. The last thing he saw before falling was Lin Xia leaping toward him, her skirt blooming like a night lotus.

This time they landed in a bamboo forest. Moonlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled light on Lin Xia's face. She was on top of him, the corset strings undone to reveal faint golden patterns below her collarbone.

"What's that..." Edwin's fingertips inched toward the patterns.

Lin Xia flinched back. "Time brand." She hastily fastened her collar. "Marks from illegal jumps."

Edwin noticed silver veins on his own wrist. He remembered his father always wore wrist guards in the bath.

"So we're... time criminals?"

"Your father and my mother broke the rules first." Lin Xia used a hairpin to tie up her loose hair. "They tried to alter a key historical moment."

Night wind carried the distant clack of a wooden clapper. Lin Xia's watch said it was Hangzhou, 1346 AD, but Edwin spotted a stainless steel sign hidden in the bamboo—written in simplified Chinese: "Time Administration Protected Area No. 14".

"Another stitched timeline." Lin Xia bitterly smiled. "The Committee built outposts in every dynasty."

Following lamplight, they found an inn with a "FULL" lantern. The innkeeper eyed the disheveled pair with a knowing smile. "Only one upper room left."

"We're not—" Edwin started, cut off by Lin Xia's pinch on his waist.

"Two quilts," she slapped a Song dynasty copper coin on the counter. "And food."

The wooden stairs creaked. The room was neater than expected, with carved window frames offering a view of West Lake—if one ignored the occasional holographic ads flickering over the water.

"First, your watch," Lin Xia poured glowing seeds from her waist pouch. "Time anchors, tradable on the black market for—"

A knock interrupted her. Under the glutinous rice lotus root on the innkeeper's tray lay a note: Midnight, Leifeng Pagoda Base.

Lin Xia knocked over the oil lamp. In the last second of light, Edwin saw hope flash in her eyes. "My mother's code..."

By candlelight, they shared a bowl of sweet fermented rice balls. After two sips, Lin Xia's cheeks flushed, and she pushed the rest to Edwin. "Don't waste."

Osmanthus floating in the soup reminded him of the potted plant on his London windowsill, the last thing his mother tended before she died.

"Your father..." Lin Xia asked suddenly, "did he mention my mother?"

Edwin shook his head. "The day he disappeared, he just said, 'Protect the watch.' But there were Chinese maps in his study safe, Hangzhou circled seventeen times."

Lin Xia's chopsticks froze. Moonlight through the paper window cast tiny shadows under her lashes.

"When I was ten, my mother hid me in a wardrobe," she whispered. "I saw her arguing with a blond man through the crack... then an explosion, and Chronos Committee agents came."

Edwin's heart raced. "Blond? My father had black hair."

"Unless..." Lin Xia grabbed his hand. "Unless he dyed it."

They both looked at the watches—their covers resonated faintly in the moonlight. Tiny Chinese characters appeared on Edwin's dial: Lin, while Lin Xia's cover showed Carter in English letters.

"This can't be..." Lin Xia's voice was as faint as a dream. "Watches only respond to..."

The midnight drum cut off her words. Lin Xia jolted up, staggered by the wine. When Edwin steadied her, his hand brushed the brand on her neck—both trembled like they'd been electrocuted.

A foreign memory fragment surged into Edwin's mind: a woman in a cheongsam hanging a watch around a little girl's neck, tears falling on a lotus emblem...

"You saw it?" Lin Xia fumbled with her collar. "Time brands cause memory leaks..."

Still reeling from the vision, Edwin said, "Your mother... like my father, she hid a message in the watch."

On the way to Leifeng Pagoda, Lin Xia was uncharacteristically silent. The stone path reflected moonlight like a flowing galaxy. As they crossed Broken Bridge, countless fireflies rose from the water—actually miniature probes.

"Committee spies." Lin Xia pulled him behind a willow. So close, Edwin could count the dewdrops on her lashes.

At the pagoda base stood a figure with an oil-paper umbrella. As Lin Xia took a step, the figure turned—it was Tabit, but his mechanical eye glowed red.

"Welcome to your death date, little ones," the astrologer's smile split his cheek, revealing metal bones beneath. "It's time to pay for your parents' mistakes."

Glowing runes cracked across the ground, forming a giant cage. Edwin's watch alarm pierced the night—the red hand began thrashing wildly: Remaining Time: 59 hours 03 minutes.