First Draft Unedited: The Seven Chairs

It had been several weeks since the incident with the stones, and Darwin and Jack had settled into an easy routine. Regularly, he returned to Cambridge to check in with his family, and although they questioned where he was staying he lied his way around revealing the world that expanded underneath Cambridge. Staying with friends, travelling, expanding his horizons in other cities, his parents believed a number of excuses that diverted their attention away from the door in the basement. The rest of his days were spent in lazy bouts in the apartment, or walking along the river (simply known as The River in Cam). The shops were very different in Cam, and the currency continued to baffle him; large brown coins were the highest tender, with little gold droplets making up what Jack compared to pennies. There were numerous intervals between these denominations, including little green circles that vibrated when you tried to pay with them and liquid silver that was weighed to decide its value. Mostly, Jack allowed Darwin to deal with transactions, but tonight he wanted to surprise her.

There was a chocolatier on the corner of Lion’s Yard (which, coincidental to the Lion’s Yard in central Cambridge, contained several examples of fine lion specimens from Jack’s world) that Darwin adored. She would spend time gazing into the window, as captivated as a child, watching the liquid pour in elaborate displays. She whirled around the shop, absorbing the smells and giggling that high-pitched, tinkling laugh that melted his heart as easily as the liquid that poured in rivers and waterfalls all around the shop. Jack stepped inside and smiled at the child behind the counter.

“I want 500 millilitres of your best melted chocolate, darling please.” He won her over with his smile, and she fetched an elaborate jug from under the counter. Adeptly, she sluiced a nearby flow and gauged the amount in the jug by eye. Jack trusted her; he had watched her do this countless times before. He pushed a red velvet pouch across the counter to her. “Take what you need.” The girl nodded. Jack knew part of her history already, and he taught him a lot about Cam in turn; the Order had sliced the girls tongue out as a young child for speaking wrongly against the Honours who arrested and slaughtered her father in front of her. He had revealed himself to a Cambridge family and build strong bonds there, and through this he was able to understand Darwin’s need to create a false identity for him. It was one he had adopted, and they had altered an ID for him so that he could work under his own given name here. He needed to keep himself and Darwin safe, there was no world in which he could comprehend her becoming injured by his own ignorance of the system. She girl slid his purse back to him, and he smiles.

“You tipped yourself, love?” She shakes her head, and he flicks a large copper coin towards her. She catches it and tips her head in thanks.
“No no, thank you. I can only hope she’ll love it!”

*

Jack knew that Darwin was out shopping with some girlfriends that afternoon, and he took the opportunity to heart. Kitchen prepared, candles littered all across the apartment and soft, Cambridge music playing on a carefully sabotaged sound system (electricity systems were very different in Cam), Dar was not expecting the scene when she re-entered her home. Puppy alerted Jack first, leaping from her sleeping position on the edge of the sofa and belting down the sounds in a flurry of barking, scrabbling and a tiny body skidding across pure oak flooring, Jack cursed under his breath.

“I wasn’t.. I wasn’t expecting you so soon!” he called down the stairs.

“Shall I go away again?” her tone was light and teasing; she had no intention of leaving her home again. Nearly falling over the puppy as she climbed the stairs, Dar turned into the main room of the apartment. “What’s going on?”

He continued the conversation from the kitchen “As I said, I wasn’t expecting you so soon. I’m cooking dinner.” And indeed he was; she paused and noted the various heavenly smells from the kitchen where Jack stood.

“Is that chocolate?” Her sense of smell was keen; keener that his own, part of her strong breeding within Cam had left her with sharper senses that even most Cam residents, let alone the people who lived in the city above, so switched off to the world around them. He chuckled. “Yes, m’lady. Now, there’s an outfit in your room. Shoo!” He chased her away with the end of a wooden spoon, poking her in her waistcoated-chest.

*

When she returned, Jack himself had changed into a smart suit. He had purposefully chosen a matt black suit with red lining; a step away from the velvet, purple lined number that made up his every day attire, masking his true identity under the illusion of gainful employment from the Order. Darwin, on the other hand, stepped gracefully in the room with an elegance that was out of her comfort zone; in her past, she had attended many fine dining attempts and certainly knew how to hold herself. It was one of the reasons why she wore the military clothing she chose now. She had removed herself from that life once the Order had begun to pressure her family and they fell out of favour. But tonight was an exception; he had made an effort.

“Wow, don’t you brush up nicely?” She ran a hand over the shoulder of his jacket, and he was pleasantly overwhelmed with the floral notes of her perfume.
“I could say the same for you, ma’am.” He pulled out her chair and she drifted down into it. From the kitchen, he produced two plates.
“What is it? It smells chocolately!” Her voice rose in anticipation; chocolate was one of her favourite substances, but she normally enjoyed it as a treat, not as a meal.
“It is. Ribs with savoury chocolate sauce.” She squealed with delight and speared it with a fork, rolling the flavours around in her mouth.
“Oh, Jack! It’s divine!” It was his turn to chuckle now.
“I figured that you had never actually cooked with chocolate. Or, you know, cooked anything luxury for yourself at all.” The fact was true; Darwin was not renowned for her culinary ability and on the whole, she lived on food bought in the markets to sustain her.
They continued to enjoy the meal, eating and drinking champagne and talking together.  Once the food was done, they abandoned the plates in the kitchen and Darwin succumbed, collapsing onto her hammock with Jack underneath her, cuddled close together. A finger found the flesh of her arm, and as he stroked patterns onto it, they both drifted along the lines of contented sleep whilst the hammock swayed back and forth softly.

It was a soft tap on the window that roused Darwin. Or, rather, it roused the crow. He in turn fluttered across the room, landing on the shoulder of his mistress and squeezing his claws into the bare skin a little harder than perhaps was required. She jumped, causing Jack to jump in turn. Another tap at the window, and Dar rolled off the hammock with accustomed skill that came with much practice. She hefted the window open and leaned out, calling to someone on the street. Muffled by the panes of glass, Jack was unaware of the conversation that took place. He could not miss the grin that was spread across the girls face as she came back into the room though.

“We’ve found it! The fifth one has ended up in France!”

*

If Jack was put out by his peaceful evening being disturbed, he tried not to let it show. It was a pleasure to see such life in Darwin’s eyes; enthusiasm pushed through her veins as she leapt around the flat and laughed. The crow joined in her joy, ducking and diving around and never sitting still long enough to rest; between them, they sent the puppy into a frenzy and made Jack feel slightly dizzy. Before he could even speak, Darwin had dived into the bedroom and was throwing sleek silk dresses and boots into a suitcase. He followed her and leaned against the door, the puppy pinned between his ankles in a calming mechanism.

“What has ended up in France, Dar?” He cocked his head, watching the female intently. This was clearly important to her, and she had cast him aside quickly. They have worked so closely together with the skipping stones and bonded strongly over the previous weeks, and yet he now felt excluded from the packing.

“Oh Jack! The chair!” She waltzed across the room and wrapped him in a hug, a single foot raised behind her. He  pulled back, a puzzled look across his face.

“The chair? What chair?” She took his hand and pulled him over the bed. They sat together, and she took both his hands now, enunciating with them both as she explained: Long ago, there was a legend that The Trinity – The Trinity when The Trinity still worked for good – had created seven chairs. Each carved from a great and royal tree linage, they were intricate and beautiful. Some inlayed with gold, silver or platinum, others housing precious gemstones and some weaved through with the gifts from magnificent mythical creatures, they were a much-sought after gift. And gifts they were; The Trinity gave them to seven families most loyal to The Order and for many years, graced their fine estates. This included the house of Evesham, which was how Darwin came to know of their existence.
However, there were rumours that begun to emerge about the Chairs. As The Trinity began to descend into methodology not generally approved of within Cam, the Chairs themselves appeared to rebel. The Chair gifted to the Evesham house that had moved with them in their fall from favour, was naturally the first that Darwin learn of the rebellion. One day, it had simply fallen apart. There was no other description for it. The crow had landed nearly on the back of the chair, as he often does, and it had crumbled. The wood underneath him had rotten, the whole thing splintered and shattered, leaving nothing more than firewood. The precious gems within the chair had become too hot to handle, and eventually the lady of the house had to remove them with a coal shuttle. That was number one.

*

Darwin finished zipping the case up, speaking the tale into her packing. Jack hadn’t moved, except to collect the puppy from the floor and position her on his lap, tickling behind her ears. She was already growing so much, paws larger than ears and teeth as sharp as pins. She glanced across at him, the gold in her eyes glinting in the way it does when she was excited.

“Aren’t you packing anything?” She took him by surprise, and he stuttered a little.

“Erm, yes! Yes, of course!” Jack looked genuinely taken aback. “I just thought that maybe this was.. your thing, you know?”

Darwin joined him on the edge of the bed and took his hand softly. “Jack, do you not understand?” She frowned softly. “You’re part of my world now. You’re part of my adventures. This is our thing, not mine!” Her voice rose at the end, a smile across her soft face. “If you’ll have it.”

Jack leaned forward; their foreheads touched, and he sighed happily. “I’ll have everything, Dar.”

*

Number two was a chair that had been gifted to the Horsley family. They had not fallen out of favour with The Trinity, instead subduing to their new laws and regulations. In return they had been well rewarded by the sisters, giving luxury and protection from the wrath of the residents who disapproved of the New Way. However, the Chair had other ideas. Theirs sunk slowly, almost unnoticeably at first, into a puddle of oak-ooze, laced with a gentle gold pattern. They had only realised what was happening when the head of the household had lounged onto the chair, one leg over the carved arm, and the whole structure had collapsed backwards, sealing its fate.

*

They left the house together, Darwin pulling the heavy wooden door shut behind them and touching the lock. It hummed softly and a click engaged the lock. Jack didn’t flinch; he was beginning to understand the way in which Cam worked and the soft, energetic majic that helped the city to run smoothly. Within Cam, he couldn’t imagine a life without the majic. It was a part of him and an everyday part of life here and he feared returning to Cambridge and feeling like a fool for trying to lock a door with a touch or call a dog with his thought processes. He glanced down at the puppy and she stared up at him; at first, he felt it odd the way the crow and Darwin moved together as on, yet the closer he became to puppy the more he understood. Familiars were a creature that grew with you, that developed as your equal and connected with you. He was beginning to feel her anxieties and her joys and she sensed his in turn. It made him happy. Dar gently took his hand and tugged it. “Come on, Dreamer. We have a train to catch.”

The trains in Cam were what Jack would refer to as old steam trains. Elaborate and beautiful, this particular train was enormous and painted a deep maroon red. Steam poured from the funnel as they walked past the engine, wheels they past as tall as Darwin even after they became elevated by the platform. The carriages were a deep green colour, beaded with gold around the doors and windows. Jack didn’t have to examine it too closely to know that it would be pure gold; the whole place stank of money. He was unaware of how much money had changed hands to secure the tickets for today, but even the thought of it made him dizzy. Having grown up in Central Cambridge, attending private schools and never wanting, a world were money flowed easily was not alien to him but even this was too extreme. Darwin studied their tickets and looked up at the carriage.

“This one.” He boarded before her, their bags already taken care of by a well-tipped porter, and reached a hand down to help Dar aboard the train. Instead he found a yellow bundle pushed at him.

“Oh, you think she can make that massive step herself?!” As she pulled herself aboard, her hand playfully tapped the back of his head. “Dunce. Think about her!”

He pulled puppy up his chest and stroked her head. “Oh, of course I wouldn’t leave her! There was me, thinking of being valiant and considerate, and I get that!”

Dar looked up. “Got what? The way I see it, you got a hot little blonde thing!” She giggled and touched the puppy’s head. In return, the retriever spread her fat, wet tongue across the palm of the hand. Dar drew back and sniffed at it.

“People wonder why I have a bird.”

*

The third chair had been sold, from Darwin’s understanding; once the Trinity had changed their course, the original family strove to get away from the item. Either way, it had ended up in the corner of a children’s orphanage in Diff, the undercity of the Welsh capital Cardiff. It was a well-loved item here, large enough to seat three of the smaller residents of the home, and all the children enjoyed clambering over it, stroking the soft velvet of the cushioning and tracing the pictures of feral animals that hunted across the carved back.

It took a lot of research to discover the fate of this chair, and when she did it shocked Darwin so deeply that it troubled her for weeks after. A small section of a local newspaper reported the story, headed with a photo of the expansive home in its beautiful grounds. 

Home for Children closes after tragic deaths

It is with regret that John Heggerty, proprietor to

the Diff Children’s Home has chosen to close the

establishment in light of the terrible deaths that

occurred last Friday.

As The Chronicle reported on Saturday, 4 children

were killed and three badly burnt after a chair

obtained by auction for the Home by Heggerty

combusted during the evening’s recreational

activities. Heggeraty released a statement this

Even now, Darwin couldn’t bring herself to read the remainder of the article. She found out through further research that on that fateful Friday night, children were settled into the recreational room, where the chair stood in the corner, when it simply burst into flames. As simple as that, it seemed. It became a fireball in the time it took to even react, and the children upon it stood no chance. Further research told Darwin that Heggerty, the kindly elderly gentlemen who had owned the home all his life had committed suicide shortly after, not able to live with the realisation that he had bought such a dangerous object near the children he loved so dearly.

*

By the time Darwin finished her story, tears were rolling down her face. The crow had settled into her lap and nuzzled her thin stomach softly, attempting to comfort her. Jack simply sat back. So far, the stories about the chairs had simply been something that he could imagine as quite comical; a chair that melts, and one that splinters at a single touch. However, this one had a dangerous potential that was realised that night, to the expense of innocent lives. It was the first time he had felt the reach that the anger of the Trinity had, something that the female had tried to express to him in the past to no avail. The refreshment trolley arrived, and Jack waved it on with a hand.

“You couldn’t have prevented it, Dar. You know that?”

“By this point, I was already tracking the Chairs. I should have been quicker.”

“Is that why we’ve managed to secure seats on a luxury train, just –“ He paused to check his watch “4 hours after we first learnt about the chair?” Jack sighed. “Wow, four hours. I’m shattered.” The time was a little about 2am, and Darwin nodded.

“Come on, we’ve got a sleeper carriage booked.”

Jack couldn’t help but feel that the point was being avoided, but he was easily led to the sleeper beds.

*

He woke from a fitful night’s sleep, laced with images of chairs that behaved in ways they shouldn’t. When all was said and done, it was a lot of information to digest in just four hours, and Jack hadn’t coped well with the pressure of it. He rubbed his eyes and rolled over; almost falling from the top bunk of the bed he had settled in. The puppy nuzzled close to him, reflecting his sleepiness with a large yawn.

“Dar?” He called down from the top bunk, but it went unanswered. Puppy cocked her head to one side, ears folded up. “Darwin? Wake up!” He picked puppy up and dropped her off the side of the bed, throwing her softly so that she landed on top of Darwin. He paused for a moment, waiting for the female to arise, and when she didn’t he hung himself off the bunk, gaining an upside down view of a made bed with a wagging puppy flopped in the middle.

“Huh. Where’s she gone, do you think?”

It took nearly 15 minutes to locate the female, dressed in her usual military trench coat and leather gloves. She glanced at him from across the buffet table.

“Oh, it’s good of your to join us!” She jested softly and threw him a croissant. He caught it deftly and beckoned to an empty table. Once seated, he broke the pastry apart into bite-sized chunks.

“We’ve talked about the first three. Today we’re going to find the fifth. So, what about the fourth?”

Darwin laughed again, a sound that tickled Jack’s heart.

“The fourth? It’s in our apartment!”

Jack coughed on a piece of his breakfast, reaching for the glass of water the well-dressed waiter had placed on the table for them. “What do you mean, in our apartment?”

Darwin proceeded to explain; She had managed to locate the fourth chair, a wonderful steel chair that hummed with the majic of the world, patterns laced across the back piece with purple and golden streaks that changed with the weather, or the mood in the flat. After a deal of bartering and trading, she had taken it from the street vendor who had possession of the chair with no idea of its value and taken it from its location in central Spain back to Cam. After extensive investigation, she found a priest – a Cam priest, not the sort that immediately sprang to Jack’s mind – who disconnected the chair from the main majic streams, leaving it humming with its own independent supply. This disconnection meant that, as Dar suspected, the Trinity could no longer activate the chair and cause any harm from its destruction. The chair was to live out its days right underneath the nose of the Trinity. Eventually, Jack nodded.

“So, the chair doesn’t pose a threat to us?”

“Not at all. After what happened to three, I wouldn’t run the risk of having it in my house if it were dangerous.”

*

It wasn’t difficult to trace the Chair; tales of it were flying thick and fast around Eiffel. A chair that had elevated a nun into the rafters of Basilica, a beautiful courthouse that helped to control the majic stream around Eiffel wasn’t difficult to learn about in a city that hums with rumours more than the majic itself. Entering the courthouse through the large oak-panelled door, Darwin dipped her fingers into a pool of smooth, gold liquid and beckoned Jack to do the same. Both familiars drank from the same liquid, and somewhere deep in the courthouse a three-chime melody rang out. Darwin hissed under her breath.

“To enter a courthouse, you need to register. The julep is a special kind of liquid that scans us and tells the priests of our entry.” In return, Jack simply nodded. The building was cold and unwelcoming. They stood in the entrance a while, the puppy gaining anxiety that could not be soothed. Eventually, the sound of Jack’s pulse banging through his ears was interrupted by the sound of a faraway door echoing open. A priest stepped forward in long red robes and a red hexagon hat to match.

“You’re here for the Chair.” He stated the fact, and Darwin nodded in return. She stepped forward and held her hand out. The priest mirrored her movement and took the female’s hand, connecting them so that his fingers found the pulse of blood in her wrist. They remain like this for some time, eyes locked together, faces unreadable. The priest breaks the silence first, glancing at Jack. At the moment eye contact is broken, the crow goes berserk, throwing himself around the floor in a mass of feathers and screaming that offsets puppy. Howling, screaming and a ruckus on the floor, Jack almost loses focus as the priest speaks.

“Catch her.”

Jack looks up desperately. “Catch her? What do—“ His sentence remains unfinished. As the older male releases Darwin’s wrist, she collapses. Jack lunges for her, catching under her arms and sliding his body under hers alongside pulling her back, cushioning her fall. The priest turns and walks away, but from other doors nuns arrive, dressed in the attire that Jack expected from a nun, with the exception of the colour of the habits, which were the same shade of red as the priest’s. Holding their hands out, the nuns levitated Darwin onto a stretcher that one brought, and began to lead her to follow the priest. Jack rose from the floor. A nun turned and shook her head.

“This is not your business. You are an outsider here.”

*

It was several hours before Darwin was released. In that time, Jack had managed to calm the puppy, but only if she was in psychical contact with him, which left him with no option but to sit cross-legged on the floor, the dog curled on the recess of his legs. The crow, on the other hand, could not be appeased and he spent the entirety of the time flying around the rafters and screaming mercilessly for Darwin.

The door which Darwin had been stretchered through opened slowly, and she entered the room. Within an instance, Jack was on his feet and running to her side. The crow beat him, circling around her and clicking his beak anxiously. He pulled her up onto his shoulders, stroking her hand.

“Dar! You’re so cold!” He took a second and looked over her; she was gaunt and pale, drawn back into herself. Short red hair that usually flared in the sun was limp and lifeless. She looked at him, green eyes dead and no longer golden.

“Take me home, Jack.”

*

Regardless of how hard Jack pressed, Darwin refused to tell him what happened within the confines of the Basilica. Helping her to undress on the sleeper train, he found numerous bruises tracing the line of her spine, and bandages across both arms, one stained with the females’ blood. He rested a finger on it softly, eyes welling, but Dar shrugged him off.

“Leave it, Jack. We got the Chair, and I paid a fair cost for it.” In return, he snorted softly and shook his head.

“What did they do to you, Darwin?”

She swore she would never tell.