The stairwell spiralled forever upward.
Aric counted each turn, fingers brushing the rough stone. The walls were carved with shallow grooves that pulsed faintly with silver light, like veins under skin. Every few steps a tiny bell hung from the ceiling; each one rang a different note as they passed, building a melody that wound around them like a rope.
Lyra kept glancing over her shoulder. "I swear the stairs are moving."
"They are," the child with bell-eyes said matter-of-factly. Its small feet made no sound on the steps. "The Chime Lord's spire doesn't like to be climbed. But we're expected."
Aric arched an eyebrow. 'Expected? By a being I've never met? Either we've been tracked since the Vault or someone has been very patient.'
The stair finally ended at a door made of black iron filigreed with silver chimes. The child touched it; the chimes rang in sequence like a password. The door dissolved into mist.
Warm air rolled over them. They stepped into a hall unlike anything Aric had seen.
It was circular and impossibly vast, open to the canyon on one side. Hundreds of wind-chimes hung from the ceiling on strands of spider-silk, some as small as coins, others larger than doors. They caught the updraft from the abyss and produced a low, endless hum. The floor was polished obsidian inlaid with a mandala of copper bells; when Aric stepped on it, the bells trembled but made no sound.
At the far end, on a dais of suspended chains, sat the Chime Lord.
He was tall and slender, draped in a robe of overlapping bronze scales that shimmered with every movement. Where his face should have been was a mask of translucent crystal shaped like a bird's beak. Through it swirled faint motes of light — voices caught in glass. His hands were long, nails capped with silver bells. Even seated, he gave the impression of someone who was listening to every sound in the Domain at once.
Lyra's breath caught. 'This is what rules here?'
The child knelt. Its bell-eyes glowed. "I've brought them."
The Chime Lord's voice was a chord, three notes layered. "So you have. Rise, Echo-Child." The motes inside his mask shifted, forming a faint smile. "Welcome, Carriers."
Aric inclined his head. "Chime Lord."
The Chime Lord's bells chimed faintly. "You wear false Names. Clever. But useless here. This is my spire; every whisper has already reached me."
Aric didn't flinch. "Then you know why we're here."
"I know," the Chime Lord said. "The fragment you carry disturbs my city. The Auditors want it back. I want to know why."
Lyra stepped forward despite Aric's warning glance. "Because it doesn't belong to them. It belongs to—"
Aric cut in smoothly. "—us. And we're willing to pay for passage."
The Chime Lord tilted his head. The bells on his sleeves jingled, a sound like laughter and knives. "Payment. Always so direct."
He rose from the dais. Chains shifted to support him, making a bridge to the floor. Up close he was even taller, the crystal mask reflecting Lyra's face in fragments. "Passage you will have, if you can withstand my resonance."
Lyra frowned. "Your what?"
Aric's mind raced. 'Resonance. Not a fight. A test.' He smiled. "We accept."
The Chime Lord extended a hand. Between his long fingers appeared a chime of pure silver, hanging from an invisible thread. "Hold this. If it does not shatter, you may leave. If it does, you stay."
Aric took the chime. It was light as a feather but vibrated like a heartbeat. A thousand whispers ran through it. He held it out to Lyra. "Your turn."
She hesitated. "What if—"
"Trust me," he murmured.
She touched it. Instantly the world around her blurred. Sound pressed against her skull, trying to pull her apart. She heard memories that weren't hers: children singing in a tongue she didn't know, a bell tolling underwater, a scream caught in a bottle. She clenched her teeth. "Aric—"
"Focus," he said calmly, though his own knuckles were white. "Match its tone. Think of your Name."
Her mind spun. Her Name? The one she'd given, or her true one? She remembered her mother's voice, a lullaby under stars. She hummed it without thinking. The chime steadied, its wild vibration easing. A small, clear note rang out.
The Chime Lord's motes flickered. "Impressive."
Aric smirked. "We're full of surprises."
He released the chime. It hovered between them, shining. "We've met your test."
"Not yet," the Chime Lord said softly.
The hum of the spire deepened. All the wind-chimes above swayed at once, their notes converging into a single rising sound. The floor's mandala of bells glowed copper. The Chime Lord raised his hands; chains rose from the abyss, coiling like serpents.
"You carry a fragment of the Landlord," he said. "Its echo stirs something in my domain. If you leave without anchoring it, you will tear holes in the threads of sound. That I cannot allow."
Lyra stiffened. "We didn't—"
Aric's eyes narrowed. 'Anchoring. Threads of sound. This is more than passage; it's a contract.' He bowed slightly. "Then tell us what you want."
The Chime Lord tilted his head. "A fair trade. Anchor the fragment here for one cycle, lend me its resonance, and I will give you safe passage and a Name-sign to guide you deeper."
Lyra whispered, "He wants to use it."
Aric's mind spun. 'A cycle. Time enough for others to find us. But the Name-sign… we need it. And if we refuse, he'll keep us here.'
He smiled faintly. "One condition."
The motes inside the mask swirled. "Condition?"
"We leave a false anchor," Aric said. "A copy. The fragment stays with us."
Lyra hissed, "Aric!"
He ignored her. "We can craft an echo from its resonance. It will hold for a cycle. You get your sound, we get our fragment."
The Chime Lord was silent. The spire's wind-chimes trembled, as if the whole city were holding its breath.
Finally the Chime Lord's bells chimed once. "Clever," he murmured. "But dangerous. If your echo fails, the backlash will tear you apart."
Aric's grin widened. "I like challenges."
The motes swirled again. "Very well. I will allow this. But you must craft the echo here, under my resonance. Fail, and you both belong to me."
Lyra muttered under her breath, 'We're going to die.'
Aric's inner voice replied, 'Not today.'
Aloud he said, "Deal."
The Chime Lord gestured. A circle of copper bells rose from the floor around them, forming a ring. Chains coiled overhead, pulling the wind-chimes lower until they formed a dome of sound.
"Begin," the Chime Lord said.
Aric closed his eyes. The fragment pulsed in his coat like a second heart. He drew it out. It glowed faintly, veins of silver writhing. Lyra gasped as its hum synced with the dome.
"Now what?" she whispered.
He smiled without opening his eyes. "We give the city a song it's never heard."
She stared at him. "You're making this up as you go."
"Strategist," he murmured.
She laughed despite herself. "Fine. Strategist."
Together they began to weave the fragment's hum into the dome of chimes. The sound thickened, became visible — threads of light and vibration twisting between their hands. It was like weaving spider-silk out of music. Lyra's lullaby rose again, merging with the hum. Aric added a low note of his own, a counterpoint drawn from a memory he'd never spoken aloud.
The Chime Lord tilted his head, listening. The motes inside his mask spun faster.
The dome brightened. Bells trembled. The child with bell-eyes clutched its parchment, staring.
The threads snapped into a shape — a hollow shell of resonance, shimmering like a glass heart. The fragment's hum faded as it slid into Aric's coat again, leaving the echo behind in the ring.
The Chime Lord lowered his hands. The chains stilled. "It holds."
Aric opened his eyes. "Of course."
Lyra exhaled shakily. "We're alive?"
"For now," Aric said.
The Chime Lord stepped closer. "You have kept your bargain. Take this."
He handed Aric a small chime shaped like a crescent moon. Inside it swirled motes of light identical to those in his mask. "The Name-sign. It will lead you deeper — but it will also mark you. Others will know you passed through my city."
Aric turned it over in his fingers. "That's fair."
The Chime Lord's voice lowered. "One more thing. The Auditors are not the only ones hunting you. Something older listens through the fragment. It stirs beneath the chains. Even I cannot hold it forever."
Lyra swallowed. "What is it?"
The Chime Lord's mask tilted toward the canyon. In the shadow below, something vast moved — a shape like a coiled bell-serpent, its body formed of broken chains.
He said only, "Run while you can."
Another gong rolled up from the abyss, deeper and hungrier than before. The spire trembled. Dust rained from the ceiling.
Aric pocketed the chime. "Time to go."
The child whispered, "The lower bridges. Quickly."
Lyra grabbed his arm. "What was that thing?"
He glanced back at the moving shadow. 'Our next problem.'
Aloud he said, "Later."
They fled down the stair as the gong echoed again, shaking the whole city of Hanging Echoes.