Rioters approaching a town hall [https://i.imgur.com/2a2gKO7.png]

THE MAYOR

The way back out of the Old City felt much quicker. The Cat was apparently still learning how to use her bell. She would ring it when they approached a corner, as she turned the corner, and after the corner was behind them. She would ring it when she saw something, heard something, even smelled something, presumably. After what felt like the hundredth or so ring, Monte tuned the sound out.

He needed a plan. Can you just walk into the mayor's office and talk to him? It’s not as though he spent his time making city improvements himself. However he got an audience, he had to be diplomatic. If the mayor wanted to give the clockmaker her pay back, he would have done it already.

He also had to be careful. The mayor had no idea who he was. The Clockmaker told Monte the Company owned the mayor. Even the slightest threat to the mayor from Monte would make him a target. Monte needed a plan that would allow him to meet with the mayor without showing his hand. He knew better than to underestimate the Company. He had done it before, and nearly wound up killed.

Monte went through what he knew about the mayor. He knew what the townspeople and the clockmaker said, none of it flattering. He knew his name was Padrig, and that he was the mayor. He was wracking his brain for anything that might give him an in.

He's in debt to the Company.

Could he use that knowledge? What did it mean to be owned by the Company? Monte was drifting off into his thoughts when the sound of a bell brought him back. The cat was still trotting along a few paces ahead, there wasn't a corner in sight. The sound wasn't from her, yet it was familiar.

"I haven't seen him out and about anywhere. I wish it wasn't coming to this." Monte heard a voice, and though he could make out every word, it sounded far away. He stopped, waiting to hear more.

"We better hurry then, in case he shows up." Said another voice. Monte recognized this one immediately, it was Alaya.

I'm under the café.

All thoughts of how to get in with the mayor vanished. Monte looked around for the source of the sounds and found a small metal grate no bigger than his hand. He recognized it immediately. Monte had seen it from the other side. Monte helped Alaya clean up the shop at the end of a shift two days ago. This grate is where she dumped the dirty mop water. At the time he thought nothing of it, now it was his portal into a clandestine meeting.

In case who shows up?

Another voice, a man's voice, was in Alaya's shop after closing time. Monte hadn't considered how long he'd been with the Clockmaker. There was still light in the Old City, so it wasn't quite dark out yet. It had possibly been a few hours since Alaya closed up shop for the day. From their few words, Monte was certain it was he they were avoiding. Is this man why she was being so cold to him? Had she already moved on?

He heard a bell sound again. The cat was now nearly out of sight. She hadn't realized Monte stopped following her. The sound was the same as the one from moments ago.

The bell above the café door.

"I wasn't followed. The others will be here shortly I reckon." Another voice. This one belonged to a woman. Monte recognized it as belonging to one of the town locals.

The rising feeling of betrayal, jealousy, despondency, anger, and helplessness he'd had abated slightly. Another person, a woman, an older woman arriving made it less likely Alaya was engaging in a tryst behind his back. Now there were new questions. What's happening in the shop after hours? Why would this old timer need to avoid being followed?

Why would they be worried about me?

Monte replayed the past few days and couldn't come up with a single reason why anyone in the town would be thinking about him. It seemed even less likely they would plan a secret meeting just to avoid him. He heard the bell again, and what sounded like the voices of a few people coming in. The conversation was much the same as the others. Next, he heard tables and chairs scraping across the stone floor above.

"This isn't the best place to do somethin' like this, but we 'preciate it Alaya." The voice belonged to the crusty old man. Now he was in the shop too.

"He's gone too far this time he has." Said another voice. The bell rang again and now there were more voices than Monte could keep track of.

It sounded to Monte like the crowd that filled the seats each morning was convening for an impromptu second round. Monte had no idea what he had gone too far on. Had he said something wrong last night? Maybe his speech in the café went outside the bounds of decorum? He could stay down in the sewers listening to what they had to say about him, but it didn't feel right. He needed to make it back up and tell them himself he intended to leave town immediately. Clearly Alaya had soured on him. It seemed like the rest of the town had too.

Nothing was keeping him here, and clearly it was past time for him to go. The clockmaker would have to accept her fate. Monte didn't feel great about it, but there was nothing he could do. The crosstalk above him had picked up and he could no longer distinguish one conversation from another.

Monte realized he was turned around. He had lost track of which way he’d come from, and the cat was nowhere in sight. A slight breeze was coming from one direction, which he assumed meant it led out. He began walking again until he found the cat. After the first corner he came to, he found her waiting. She had stopped to wait up but didn’t seem happy about it. She walked along with her tail straight in the air, her bell tinkling incessantly. Finally, they reached the entrance to the old city.

Light coming through the opening from outside told Monte it was well into the afternoon. The sun was maybe only half an hour from setting. How many hours had he been down here? He had the sense he had only just found the opening and wandered into it.

But my head does feel much better.

He guessed that he was in the Old City for close to six hours. Without the bells tolling the hours out, there was no way to tell. Regardless of how long he’d been down there it seemed as though nobody missed him.

He squeezed himself through the opening between the two buildings and walked up this time. This time the stone wall was bathed in light and the brick was dark. Working up to the surface was a bit trickier than going down had been.

As he ascended, he noticed the walls radiating trapped heat, and the air getting steadily warmer. When he finally exited, he felt beads of sweat already forming on his brow and lower back.

By the time Monte made it to the front door of Alaya's café, he was fully sweating. The door had closed as he was approaching, two townspeople had just arrived to join the crowd. Monte wasn't sure what would happen when he came through the door. He opened it and stepped inside. The bell above the door announced his entrance. He expected a few heads to turn his way, but he might as well have been invisible. To a person, the room stayed transfixed at the figure at the front of the room.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

They weren't talking about me at all.

He knew better than to center himself in a conflict, and normally tried to avoid it. He cursed himself for being so paranoid. Alaya was hardly more than a stranger, and he immediately jumped to the conclusion she was sneaking around on him. He didn't have time now to consider what it meant that he didn't trust her. The person at the front of the room was speaking emphatically, demanding attention from everyone in the room.

"We've all sat right here in this very room and said our peace. We had something good going in this town. We had bells that were the envy of our neighbors. We had beauty kept up by the good folk right here. Everyone had a roof, everyone had a meal. We had folk come here just to experience it for a few days. And some of 'em would stay!" The orator was adding more and more emphasis to each line. At each punctation someone in the crowd would respond with a "Yep" or an affirming grunt.

Monte recognized the speaker. It was in fact the crusty old man from this morning. Monte didn't know him very well, but enough to know he could rile up a crowd. He had the assembled townsfolk eating from his hand. Monte looked around and saw a few faces he didn't recognize. Were there visitors in the crowd? Why hadn't they headed home? No sooner had he asked himself did he realize he was in fact asking about himself.

He scanned the room for Alaya. She was seated near the front. Maybe it was time for him to leave this place after all. Something was happening in the town, and he didn't feel he should get involved.

"The mayor has gone too far now. First, we lost the town gardeners. Orrin here has been out of work ever since, and the town's never looked worse." The crusty old man indicated a rather downtrodden-looking fellow seated in the front row. Apparently, he was a former gardener, now out of work. Monte had seen him in the café this morning. The gardener bowed his head in shame and a woman next to him put her arm around him.

"He promised to bring in new workers that would cost less, and it never happened. But he didn't stop there did he? Used to be that if you needed a meal you could get one. Now the mayor's taken that away. We all agreed to chip in so nobody went hungry. Alaya here does what she can, Ciaran does what she can, but there is no money coming from the mayor. He took that away! But we're still paying." The crusty old man took a pause. The woman he indicated next to Alaya ran the tavern that served dinner across the square, Monte recognized her as well. The crowd assembled gave the two proprietors a mild applause.

The energy in the room was very tense now. Monte remembered what it was like when his town met after the death of his father. He was there when the case was made that Monte was the killer. After a certain point, no amount of pleading from his mother could have turned the crowd back.

That night, Monte packed his bag, the one he still carried, and left home. Had he stayed there would not have been justice. Had he stayed the mystery of his father's death would be considered done. Had he stayed, he would be in a grave instead of in this café.

The energy in the room wasn't quite to that fever pitch yet, but Monte could feel it rising.

"And for what? Answer me that will you? We're paying to have a town we don't recognize. We're paying to have the bells silenced, likely forever? We're paying for a festival so the mayor can spout off about what he's doing? So he can lie to us? So he can pay his debts?" The crusty old man said the last line and paused. Monte heard an audible gasp.

The crusty old man was referring to what the Clockmaker had said about the mayor. Monte hadn't believed it, entirely. Now it seemed as though it was more than just town gossip, it was a known secret. Monte hadn't heard it in the café as part of the usual fare of complaints. Based on the response from the room, making these allegations out loud was dangerous.

"Now we know his true designs. He's going to take over the square. He's going to take the bakery. He's going to take the atelier, Ciaran's tavern, the smith's shop. He wants to take this café from us. The mayor wants to hand this town over to The Company. The coward didn’t even have the stomach to tell us." The speech reached a conclusion. Immediately there were shouts of "Coward!" and "He can't do this!".

The mood in the room was past the point of calm discussion now. He looked around at the faces of the villagers and saw red cheeks and furrowed brows. Those who were still seated looked close to standing up, and those who were standing looked close to starting a riot.

Monte was hearing of the mayor's announcement for the first time. Last he heard from the mayor was an announcement about the new clock tower keepers. Had the mayor made this announcement while Monte was in the Old City? It was possible of course. Maybe the mayor had intended to roll out this plan at the festival, but got cold feet? Monte remembered he looked nervous. How had the townspeople heard from the mayor in the middle of the day?

"We're going to go over to his office and get him out. It's time for new leadership in our town. Leadership that's fresh, bold, and isn't owned by the Company or anyone!" The old man shouted it over the crowd. Now everyone was on their feet. Monte included. He rose without truly noticing it happened.

The bell above the door jingled with more menace this time. Those in the back were streaming out into the golden light as the sun set. Anonymity of darkness would surely make the crowd even more fervent. Monte wasn't about to join them. He planned on going back to his room and checking out before this got truly out of hand. If he got on the road soon there might be just enough light left to make it back to the Capitol. Just then he felt a hand on his back.

"You're going to help us save the square, aren't you?" Monte turned to find Alaya looking right at him. She hugged him. Monte smelled her hair. It smelled like vanilla and flour. She pulled away and he noticed she was flush like he hadn't seen since his first night here.

"This is so exciting. We're actually going to do something!" Alaya said.

"Right… About the rats, I was really hoping to-" Monte started.

"You did it! I didn't see a single one of those little pests all afternoon. Good work!" Alaya said, cutting him off before he could finish. News that the rats were at bay was welcome, but unexpected. The clockmaker told him they would be taken care of once she had her monthly stipend restored. He guessed this was just a grace period while he came up with a plan.

"Are you going to stand there? Or are you going to get your hands on that scumbag of a mayor for me?" Alaya leaned her chin down and lifted her eyes to meet his. Monte knew he was being manipulated, and it was working. Alaya likely didn't know how dangerous going after the mayor like this might be. Monte couldn't make himself tell her he was planning to leave town immediately.

"Come on now get your hands off each other and let's get this done!" The crusty old man had walked up behind them. He was shooing them out of the café. Alaya gave him a peck on the cheek and playfully pushed him towards the door. Just like that, the best chance he had to explain himself was gone.

Most of the assembled townsfolk had spilled out onto the street. The crowd was moving across the square toward town hall. Monte remembered thinking it would be great if the town discourse took place there instead of here in the café, but this isn't what he had in mind. Through the window he noticed some people were splitting off. Monte hoped they were headed home for the night. He was jealous of them. Alaya had stayed behind to lock the door. Monte was alone with the crusty old man now.

"I found her. I found the clockmaker." Monte said to him.

"Thanks for telling me how to get down there." Monte looked at the crusty old man as he said it. The man's eyes flashed and opened wide, then narrowed a bit.

"Well, I'm glad you made it. Say, it should have been you speaking back there huh? I almost called you up, but I was on a roll." The crusty old man chuckled as he said it. Monte wasn't sure what he meant.

"You really got them worked up, I couldn't have done that." Monte replied.

"When you've been mayor, you learn what to say to get people worked up." The crusty old man said.

This man used to be mayor?

The clockmaker hadn't mentioned that, and as far as he could remember it had never come up. Was this man trying to return himself to power? Could this be what ginning up the mob was about? Monte didn't know exactly how to react, but he was sure his face gave away his shock.

"It's much harder to do what you did this morning." The crusty old man said. Monte had no idea what he was talking about.

"All day I was running into folks telling me you really got them thinking." The crusty old man said.

"What did I do?" Monte asked, still puzzled. Was this another joke at his expense? Was it because he asked about the old city?

"Your speech! Boy, it really put a bee in folks' bonnet." The crusty old man said.

Monte had no response. His speech was a joke he did for the morning crowd, he never intended to start a riot. So far, the old man hadn't actually told him anything untrue. Was this all real too? Suddenly the entire situation seemed much more precarious. Monte had accidentally convinced half the town to unseat the mayor. When the Company found who was responsible, they would be forced to act. Monte needed to plan for the worst.

More people from the town were finding their way to the square. Monte couldn't tell if they had been at the café. It seemed to him like people were just drawn in by the noise. A few had brought flasks and were passing them around. The Inn keeper was rolling a barrel into the square now. What dregs left in the one from last night's festivities were being drained into the flagons that were never cleaned up.

There were torches being made from whatever was available and ignited as the sun sank further into the horizon. If Monte didn't know better, he would say they were planning another celebration, except he did know better, and he was worried.