Falling Ashes

‘Robert?’ Kenneth prompted. ‘Deal?’


Robert chewed the inside of his cheek, contemplating the decision. ‘All right. Fine.’

‘Then it’s settled,’ said Kenneth. ‘When is the next meeting?’

‘The invitation said to rendezvous at midnight, under the Terry Street Bridge.’

‘The canals?’ asked Elise. ‘That doesn’t seem very secret.’

Robert gave her a sarcastic expression that quite clearly stated: you don’t say?

‘They must have a reason for it,’ said Kenneth. ‘You can observe from a vantage point as I wait under the bridge. Deal?’

Robert nodded in agreement. ‘Okay, but if no one shows up after five minutes, we’re all getting out of there, okay?’

They all nodded in unison.

~

Twenty-two hours later, Kenneth Redding was staring at the Terry Street Bridge contemplating the situation he’d gotten himself into. The water in the canal was black, and reflected the night sky perfectly, as if it were a mirror. There was a small path, about one foot wide, on either side of the water; wide enough for a man to walk along and hide under the pass. No one stood beneath the bridge waiting for him, and a sense of foreboding had washed over his body.

‘Well?’ Elise whispered, prodding him in the back. ‘Are you going or what? It’s about to hit midnight.’

‘Okay, okay,’ he said, stepping out of the shadows.

She was right; somewhere in the distance, a clock tower sounded its first chime.

One.

Kenneth hurried along the alleyway where he had been hiding with the others.

Two.

Kenneth walked to the side of the canal and peered over the edge. The narrow path was only a few feet below.

Three.

He hopped down with ease, though it was barely wide enough for his feet to rest side-by-side.

Four.

He shuffled along the wall, counting the chimes and praying he wouldn’t fall into the black water.

Five.

He was in the shadow of the bridge and knew his comrades would no longer be able to see him.

Six.

Kenneth stood beneath the pass, alone, and wondering how long he would have to be here.

Seven.

He heard footsteps, and craned his neck to get a better look at them, but no one was in sight.

Eight.

The footsteps sounded closer, their heels clacking smartly along the cobbled stone streets.

Nine.

Kenneth heard the sound of someone jumping onto the narrow path, the same as he had done, except there was no one to be seen.

Ten.

He swivelled on the spot, squinting through the darkness. The footsteps were mere meters away.

Eleven.

He could feel their eyes on him, watching his every move. His heart quickened, dreading the events that were about to transpire.

Twelve.

‘Hello, sir. I trust you are well tonight?’

Kenneth was given such a fright that he almost fell head first into the canal.

‘Who’s there?’ he demanded, holding out his hands in defence. He daren’t ignite his palms for fear of being discovered by strangers passing.

‘Please, sir, keep your voice down. We do not want to be discovered.’

‘Show yourself!’ Kenneth hissed, ready to attack. ‘Why can’t I see you?’ It was a curt man’s voice, Kenneth knew that much.

‘You will,’ said the voice. ‘Please be patient. What is your name?’

‘Why should I tell you?’ asked Kenneth.

‘You received an invitation to our meeting, did you not?’ asked the voice.

Kenneth nodded. ‘Yeah. So? Bit of a strange place for a meeting, isn’t it? Where’s everyone else?’

‘Oh, this isn’t where the meeting is held,’ said the voice. ‘I will take you to our meeting if you will allow it.’

‘And how do I know you’ll do that?’ said Kenneth. ‘What if it’s a trick?’

‘How do I know you aren’t a Realm Guard?’ asked the voice. ‘As you can see, we have reached an impasse. Please, sir. I have only your best interests at heart. We are like you, human empathisers forced to meet in secret. I assure you that you will be able to leave at any given moment if you so desire.’

Kenneth looked around, unsure what to do. The other’s probably thought he was barking mad, talking to himself like that.

‘Only if you show your face,’ said Kenneth.

‘As you wish,’ said the voice.

A man materialised out of thin air before Kenneth’s very eyes. He was used to seeing strange things, but this was certainly out of the ordinary.

He was an older gentleman with a large moustache, who wore a suit and top hat.

‘You’re awfully dressed up for an invisible man,’ said Kenneth.

The man removed his hat and bowed deeply. ‘Allow me to introduce myself. I am Francis Cavendish, a man of many talents.’

‘Many talents, huh?’

‘Yes. Why, I can transfer the invisibility to anyone that is willing. It’s not so much invisibility per-se, but rather bending light around an object or person. If light does not bounce off an object, the perceiver is unable to detect it.’

‘So, technically, you’re not invisible at all. You bend light?’ asked Kenneth.