Season of Sunlight

Fifth Month

Upper Mainland Station

The City of Trylla, The Cronia Region

2325

The Midnight Express coasted into Trylla's Upper Mainland Station, the wheels and gears squealing while a moss-green cloud of Ecosav puffed out of the smokebox.

The station was almost empty, the locomotive coming to a gradual, steady halt as the carriage doors opened and released its passengers into the night.

Henri stepped onto the concrete platform, followed closely by Constable Abbott and Miss Parks.

They walked through the trainyard and entered a red brick building. Copper pipes crawled up the walls, spouting white steam to announce the train's arrival.

Henri hurried across a black and white checkered floor towards a bronze revolving door at the other end of the room. Check-in counters embraced him on all sides, where clerks tirelessly punched ticket after ticket, sifting through small rows of mundane passengers making the notorious red-eye journey to Woalani, the region's capital.

Henri pushed through the revolving door, a metal portal blurring the outside world before being released onto the polished stone sidewalk.

Voices filled the air around him.

Henri rummaged around in the left pocket of his coat and pulled out a set of silver keys. They were shaped like long thin rectangular prisms. One dipped about halfway in gold paint, while the other wore a scratchy coat of rust.

Constable Abbott turned his head towards the street, watching the colourful motorcarriages drive by with grace and beauty. Their bodies resembled a thick and robust metal carriage with four doors, while an elongated metal snout with two round headlights protruded from the front. Their motorized engines hummed like an orchestra of various instruments, each one different and unique. 

"Look at them," Abbott said in awe. "Such magnificent beasts."

"Efficient ones, too," Elza said. "The new models have been upgraded to run on Ecosav, standardizing them with the rest of Trylla's machinery. My aunt owns a purple Celeste, and I must say, I'm impressed. The power you feel behind the wheel is exhilarating."

"I just had my vintage red Roadster sent to the shop to upgrade its fuel tank," Abbott said. "It is nearly a decade old and still runs on gasoline. I started getting rotten looks from my neighbours, so I figured it was time. The government clarified that no vehicles without Ecosav can populate the streets. I grew up racing in the country with my father, so I couldn't afford to lose it."

"Yes," Elza smiled, playing with her hair. "The city finally realizes that the old ways are not the best. I wish it hadn't taken almost twenty years for action. Regardless of what the politicians say, Cronia has already suffered. Ecological change isn't something you can rewind. It leaves a scar."

Henri listened intently to their conversation, keeping his head down as he continued to pace quickly down the sidewalk until he came to a rusted blue motorcarriage parked along the rounded curb. As he fiddled with the keys, Abbott hurried around the rear end of the vehicle, his eyes wide with wonder as he brushed his fingers along the roof.

"A blue Blitzen! One of the greatest first motorcarriages ever made," he said. "Impressive, Inspector. Very Impressive. This model is a legend!"

Elza dabbed at the flakes of paint peeling off from the door frame. Her upper lip curled as she examined the corroded back bumper and the speckled wheel caps. "Yes, a true classic. I've seen some in better shape, though," she said, keeping her voice low.

Henri turned his head and met her eyes. He chuckled.

"It was my father's. He treasured it with every fibre of his being but never waterproofed the material. So over time, it became a phantom of what it once was." Henri sighed. "I can't fix it. Not yet."

"Well, there are things in life that are rough around the edges, maybe even broken, but it doesn't matter. You can never let it go," Elza said, crossing her arms. "Without it, you would never be the same."

Henri smiled and looked deeply into her eyes. "Alright, Miss Parks, let's get you home. Abbott, be a gentleman and hop in the back. Pop the seat up and make yourself comfortable."

"Yes, sir," Abbott said with glee.

"Thank you for doing this," Elza said, walking up to Henri.

He gave a charming toothed grin.

"One can't leave a lady standing alone in the middle of the night. It's rude."

Elza bowed her head and climbed into the Blitzen. Henri's smile faded.

He frowned and glanced up and down the street. Then, finding nothing of interest, he jumped into the Blitzen, started it up with the rusty key, stepped onto the gas pedal and bolted off down the road until the red tail lights of the Blitzen turned sharply onto another street and vanished.

***

Trylla's Upper Mainland was built on the ascending slope of Mount Haja, the tallest peak in the Cronia Region. The Government buildings resided at the highest point, appropriately titled Mountain Heights, while the factories and lower class residencies trailed towards the Harbor District and into the Lower Mainland coasts.

The Blitzen travelled upwards from the Station District to the quiet neighbourhood of Sea Corva, where Abbott disembarked at the TDB Barracks, a simple apartment complex overlooking Monarch Bay, and only a fifteen-minute walk to the Detective Bureau. He bid goodnight and disappeared behind a tall yellow door.

Henri made a U-turn and drove back down the mountain.

"Where to, Miss Parks?" he asked sternly.

Elza sheltered her arms underneath the white shawl.

"Eastside Botanical Meadows," she said, falling comfortably against her black velvet seat as the motorcarriage picked up speed.

The Blitzen descended until it reached a three-way junction. Henri turned left into a neighbourhood overgrown with natural vegetation. Tall trees towered over the road as vines wrapped elegantly around white fences. The houses were large and multilevel, either two or three floors.

Elza directed Henri off the main road onto a small skinny dirt alley called Bulberry Lane. The Blitzen came to a stop under a large oak tree.

"Alright, this is it," she said, pointing out the window. Henri looked through the front windscreen at a tall white house.

The roof was triangular and sharp, with a fenced-in front yard and a lush flower garden on a short-cropped emerald lawn. A cobblestone path led to a vibrant red door, where faint light flickered behind partially draped windows.

A dormant purple Celeste motorcarriage stood just beyond the front entryway on a gravel sheet.

"630 Bulberry Lane," Elza said, reading the number painted in black on the post of the silver mailbox.

"It's a beautiful house," Henri said. "Family home?"

"It belongs to my aunt, Frou Frou Simmons," Elza said. "I moved in shortly after my parents and brothers were killed."

Henri pondered the phrase as Elza stepped out of the Blitzen and onto the road. He cleared his throat. "What happened, if I may ask?"

"An out-of-control motorcarriage pushed them off the road while they were driving home from the countryside. I was staying with Aunt Frou Frou at the time. They swerved off the road and plummeted three hundred feet into a ravine." Elza clenched her jaw. "That is what the first inspector told me, but a week later, a second showed up to tell me the truth."

Henri leaned closer. "Truth?"

"The man who pushed my family off the road was a member of the Court of Abaddon. As I said, they seek out members of the Prophet Society and kill them."

Henri sighed and placed a hand on the wheel. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"This case is personal, Inspector Fraser. Abaddon took away my family. I will not allow them to take another."

"I assure you, we will stop them, but you need to be honest with me. Only then can this arrangement work."

"I understand," Elza said, grinning.

"Meet me at the bureau tomorrow morning. We'll meet up with Constable Abbott and then go from there."

"Alright, see you tomorrow."

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Inspector."

Henri watched the young woman walk up to the front of the house. Elza turned the doorknob and stepped into the foyer, giving a quick wave before shutting the door.

Henri swallowed, then drove off as he returned to the main street and set course for home.

He swung down a winding road into the Station District, racing along the open freeway until he reached the small neighbourhood of Pure Hallow.

He drove through the entrance, veering off to the right and sped around a sharp bend onto Cooke's Cresent, a narrow alley barely big enough to fit two motorcarriages side by side.

Scratching the back of this neck, Henri guided the Blitzen to a steady park in front of a tall two-level yellow townhouse wedged between two dark grey buildings.

He jumped out and crept towards the seafoam front door. It was nearly one o'clock in the morning, and if he made a sound, Mrs. Benson, his next-door neighbour, would declare war. He forgot the exact reason, but it had something to do with disturbing her beauty sleep.

Henri grabbed the black doorknob and pushed open the door. It creaked.

A sudden shiver ran up his spine.

Click clack. Click clack.

The unnerving sound drew him back to face the road. A slender green Viper motorcarriage approached him, the headlights cut in half at an angle to project two sharp glaring yellow eyes through the darkness.

Click clack. Click clack.

The engine popped as it huffed a low static breath.

Henri was too tired to be afraid. He brushed off the encounter and checked the black mailbox attached to the exterior wall. Nothing was inside, so he closed the lid and read over the address.

731 COOKE'S CRESCENT.

Henri entered the house and locked the door. Stepping onto light hardwood floors, he undressed from his coat, kicked off his boots and traversed into the living room.

"You're home late."

He froze, pivoting clockwise to meet the dark eyes of a young woman. She had long brown hair and wore a simple red nightgown. A book rested in her hands, her thin body lounging comfortably on a teal sofa next to a tall flowering pink rose.

Henri eased and then walked up to her. "I didn't know you'd still be up."

The woman smiled. "I couldn't sleep."

He crashed onto the sofa next to her and sighed.

"Rough day?"

Henri snapped his head towards her. "Is it that obvious?"

"Your eyes betray you," said the woman.

"My eyes?"

"Yes," she whispered, "they droop when you're frustrated."

"This case is growing more complicated by the second."

The woman put down the book and shuffled closer to him. "Mr. Copperfield?"

"I'm dealing with cult killings, Lilith," Henri said, sitting upright. "Copperfield is only one of many deaths in the last three months linking to one suspect."

"Who?" Lilith asked, folding her hands together.

Henri looked over his shoulder and peered through the curtains. The green Viper had gone.

"The Court of Abaddon."

Lilith stiffened. "How do you know?"

"A witness," Henri said, sprawling across the sofa. "This is all just one big mess. We were attacked on the train today, and I nearly got an innocent woman killed. These people are relentless. I have to stop them."

Lilith tapped his knee. "Come on, get some rest. You'll be useless if you are half-asleep in the briefing tomorrow. You can tell me all the details in the morning."

She was right. Henri yawned and slowly got to his feet. He stretched his arms over his head and wobbled up the stairs on the other side of the room.

Rest now. Fight tomorrow.