Lord of The Mysterious Realms Chapter 593

Miss Audrey believed that those with powerful souls could often receive glimpses of the future in their dreams. And though Jenkins's own divination studies were progressing poorly, there was no denying the strength of his soul.

He didn't dream of the giant cat that frequented his slumber, nor of friends living or dead. This time, his dream featured the skilled coroner and Hathaway’s peculiar cousin.

It was only when they appeared together that Jenkins realized they shared an almost identical air about them. Despite being strangers he had met only once, he found it impossible to feel any animosity toward them.

"This is certainly curious. Could Hathaway's cousin and the coroner be related?"

He awoke with this question lingering in his mind to find it was already three in the afternoon. He was a little hungry, and a heavy, brownish-yellow cotton overcoat was draped over his shoulders.

The shop was quiet, the silence broken only by the ticking of Jenkins's pocket watch and the wall clock. He stood and stretched, a lazy motion that prompted a pair of ladies passing by the window to exchange a giggle. A quick look around confirmed that Pops wasn't in the store.

Chocolate called out languidly, announcing its presence.

Beneath Chocolate's little paw, Jenkins found a note from Pops. A shipment of questionable origin was on its way from the port. Even though the harbor was closed due to the freeze, smugglers always found a way.

"So, have you been watching the shop all afternoon?"

He patted Chocolate, who was crouched obediently at his side.

"Alright, whatever fruit we get today, it's all yours!"

Pushing the door open to go find some food, he discovered snowflakes drifting from the sky. The flurries weren't heavy, but they were enough to blanket the ground. By the time Jenkins returned to the shop, clutching a paper bag of bread, the rooftops and streets were already white.

He pulled off his gloves, scarf, and cotton cap, tossing them onto the counter before joining Chocolate by the fireplace to warm himself. Deep winter had finally arrived, and with it, the most difficult days of the year.

He hadn't made a single sale all afternoon. A shivering woman had, however, appeared at the door to beg. Jenkins found a piece of scrap metal, bent it into a makeshift dustpan, and gave her the rest of the bread and some pieces of charcoal.

The frozen river meant most of the dockworkers had lost their income. If their families hadn't stockpiled food for the winter like hibernating animals, they would be facing utter ruin.

The woman thanked him profusely as she took the items. She reached as if to grab his hand but pulled back, worried she might soil it. Jenkins watched her figure recede along the low street-side wall, an inexplicable sorrow settling over him.

Pops returned to the antique shop at half-past six, cheerful and content. The sky was completely dark by then, and Jenkins guessed he must have struck a good deal. Pops insisted on walking Jenkins back to the church, so the two of them stepped out into the snowy night, each under a black umbrella.

The wind was biting, and a damp chill hung in the air. The snow was coming down harder now, so they walked in silence, hurrying on their way.

The street corner where carriages usually waited was dark; not a single kerosene lamp glowed. They had no choice but to continue down Fifth Queen's Avenue. Shivering from the cold, Chocolate had already burrowed back inside Jenkins's coat. The cat was probably getting hungry as well.

They soon passed number 431. Jenkins glanced up at the building, which had been cordoned off once again because of the woman who made her living from love.

"I heard some news today."

Perhaps sensing the oppressive silence, Pops decided to start a conversation. He had to raise his voice to be heard over the swirling wind and snow. ɴᴇᴡ ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴜʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ ᴏɴ N0veI.Fiɾe.net

"Remember those Benefactors from the Church of Creation and Machinery? They helped the Church examine that B-08-02-8214 machine we found last night. They made a startling discovery—the artifact has recently expended a massive amount of its own energy and has temporarily lost its spatial transference ability."

This surely had nothing to do with him, Jenkins thought. When he and Miss Audrey used it, they'd only tested it with some garbage.

"The Church believes that if its power can be continuously drained, we might be able to seal it permanently. The specifics are still being discussed, of course, but the Keepers of Secrets are going to be busy for a while."

In the distance, they spotted a light at the intersection with Michel Dock Street. The two men quickened their pace, umbrellas held against the snow, and saw that it was indeed a carriage.

The driver wasn't huddled inside the carriage but sat shivering in a spot sheltered from the wind, waiting. The fleece trim of his cotton cap was laced with frost, and his shoulders were mantled in snow. Seeing them approach, the driver scrambled to his feet, bowed, and opened the carriage door.

"To the Sage's Church."

"Very good, gentlemen."

While a dangerous thing like a charcoal brazier couldn't be used in the wooden carriage, the space, sealed off from the wind and snow, was far more comfortable than the outdoors. Chocolate refused to emerge from Jenkins's coat, and he, worried the cat might suffocate, didn't dare fasten all the buttons.

Once they were settled, Jenkins struck up a conversation with the driver, curious as to why he hadn't waited inside the carriage.

"If I wait inside, a customer won't see the driver and will assume the carriage isn't for hire. But if I sit outside, they'll know I'm waiting for a fare."

Jenkins thought to ask why he didn't just hang a lamp outside as a signal, but then he considered that even that might be misinterpreted by someone looking for a ride. The driver, it seemed, wasn't willing to risk even a single fare for the sake of his own comfort.

Streetlights had been erected along Fifth Queen's Avenue as well, but in a heavy snowstorm , their already dim glow seemed even fainter. Still, it was better than nothing. With the moon hidden by the clouds, it was the only light to be found.

Pops and Jenkins continued to chat idly with the driver. He was a staunch supporter of the new streetlights. For men like him who worked through the night, light meant safety—at the very least, it was safer than total darkness.

"Of course, the best part is, I don't have to pay a single copper for these gaslights! Praise be to the Sage's Church! May the light of knowledge shine upon the land!"

He was clearly no follower of the Sage, but on the matter of the streetlights, his gratitude toward the church for footing the massive bill was genuine. The effusive praise that followed, however, was likely to curry favor with his passengers. After all, anyone traveling to the church on a night had to be an important figure within it.