(Continued from Part 1)
Third floor. The clock tower's bell was still there. The hands stopped at 4:43. No telling what day it stopped. The face was covered in dust. Roman numerals, some unreadable. He swept the light across. Dust rose. No fragment. No one. Just dust. And a cracked mirror.
The mirror leaned against the wall. The wooden frame was rotten. The glass had several cracks, like a spiderweb. He shone the light on it. The reflection was blinding.
"There." Qin Shou pointed.
He walked over. A piece of paper was wedged in the crack of the mirror, one corner sticking out, covered in dust. He pulled it out, blew off the dust, unfolded it. White paper, a little wrinkled. One line of handwriting, neat, like a woman's: "You're too late."
On the back, a symbol. A snake biting its own tail. A circle.
"What's that?" Qin Shou leaned in.
"Don't know." He handed it over. "Seen it before?"
Qin Shou held it under the light for a few seconds, shook his head. "No. But my brother drew something similar in his notebook. I didn't think anything of it. Assumed he was doodling."
"He drew it?"
"Yeah. Last page. It was rough. I flipped past it."
He stared at the symbol. Ouroboros. Didn't recognize it. Didn't matter. Starting tonight, he would.
He put the paper in his pocket. "Let's go."
"That's it?" Qin Shou asked.
"The fragment's not here. No point staying." He turned toward the stairs. "You think I wanted to come? Running around a place like this at night. You think this is fun?"
Qin Shou didn't answer. Followed behind.
They went down. Footsteps echoed, one by one, like someone following. Neither looked back.
---
Back in the car, he dialed the number. One ring. She picked up, like she'd been waiting.
"Clock tower. Fragment's gone."
"Who took it?" she asked.
"Don't know. Left a symbol. Ouroboros."
Silence on the line. Keyboard clacking. Fast.
"The Ouroboros Society," she said.
"What?"
"An organization. They're collecting fragments. Faster than we thought."
"How do you know?"
"Heard it on the black market. Someone's paying top price for those dark gold fragments. The Bazaar is brokering for them." Her voice dropped low. "The buyer doesn't leave a name. Just the symbol. Ouroboros."
He swore. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"
"I just found out." She paused. "You have someone with you?"
He glanced at Qin Shou. Qin Shou was staring at the windshield. A moth was stuck on the glass, a white spot on its wing, like an eye.
"Qin Shou. Qin Shou's brother."
She was quiet for a second. "Is he reliable?"
"He wants to find out about his brother too."
"Be careful. The Ouroboros Society might already have their eyes on you. That note at the clock tower was a warning. They knew you were coming."
"Got it."
He hung up, tossed the phone on the passenger seat. Qin Shou turned his head.
"You trust that woman?" Qin Shou asked.
"No."
"Then why do you listen to her?"
He started the engine. "Because she knows more than I do."
---
On the drive back, neither spoke. Streetlights ran past one by one, light sweeping into the car and then fading. Qin Shou leaned against the window, eyes closed. The only sounds were the engine humming and the tires on the asphalt.
Back at his place, he told Qin Shou to go home. Qin Shou didn't argue. Got out, walked a few steps, then turned back and knocked on the window. He rolled it down. Cold wind rushed in.
"Tomorrow I'll look into that symbol," Qin Shou said. "I'll tell you if I find anything."
"Okay."
Qin Shou left. He sat in the car, engine still running, listening to the hum. Pulled the paper from his pocket. Looked at it again. Ouroboros. Folded it. Put it back. Turned off the engine. The vibration stopped. The quiet in the car pressed in, suffocating. He sat for a few seconds, then pushed the door open. Cold wind rushed in. He shrank his neck. Got out. Closed the door. Went upstairs. The stairwell lights were broken. He climbed to the sixth floor in the dark. Stood at the door for a while, then took out his keys. They turned twice in the lock before catching. He twisted, pushed.
Inside. Didn't turn on the light. Felt his way to the desk. Sat down. The chair leg scraped the floor. Loud. He took the paper from his pocket, spread it on the desk. In the dark, he couldn't see the snake. But he knew it was there. Pulled out his notebook from the drawer, flipped to a blank page, found a pen. Wrote "Ouroboros Society." Drew the snake below it. Wrote the date. Closed the notebook. Put it back.
Stood up, walked to the window. Dark outside. Streetlights on, orange light on the ground. Wind blew. A leaf stuck to the glass for a few seconds, then fell. He pulled the sausage wrapper from his pocket, held it in his hand. Wrinkled. Grease stains dried, hard. He put it on the desk, smoothed out the creases with his finger. Once. Twice. Three times.
Turned, walked to the bed, sat down, took off his shoes. Laces were tight. He pulled twice to undo them. Put the shoes next to the bed, side by side. Lay down. Stared at the ceiling. A water stain — a dark shape, unreadable.
Closed his eyes. Su Yuan stood at his dorm door, smiling, holding a bowl of instant noodles. "Bro, have you eaten?" He hadn't eaten then. He said "I have." Lied. He was hungry all day.
Hungry. His stomach felt like it was being squeezed. But that sausage. He couldn't bring himself to eat it.
Turned over. The curtain billowed, then deflated. Moonlight slipped in, a patch of white on the floor. He reached into his pocket, touched the wrapper. Didn't take it out. Just held it.
(End of Chapter 10)