Title: The Warden and the Clock Tower
Author: Steve Conoboy
Genre: Fantasy
About the Book:
Five Stories to tell, five spirits to pacify.
Hannah Warden has been Overmere’s sole Wyrder since her father’s mysterious death a decade ago. She leads a ghost Walk every night without fail, at eight o’clock on the dot. It’s her responsibility: it’s her curse. It’s a burden she needs to share before she loses her mind.
Tonight, her recently acquired apprentice will tag along for his second ever Walk. Adnan has not long moved from a miserable life in a faceless city to this rural town nestled between sweeping hills and glassy lake.
He’s struggling to find his place: she’s struggling to keep going alone. He’s caught between social awkwardness and an unpredictable temper: she’s trapped by a birthright that she cannot escape.
This might be the purpose he’s spent his whole life flailing around for: this could be the support she needs to get just one night a week to herself.
This evening’s Walk begins at the haunted clock tower, where once upon a time a handyman named Walter Bracket met his untimely end, prompted some say by the devil worshipper Malachai Jones. From there, Hannah and Adnan will lead a trio of Walkers to visit a notorious tome buried in the guts of the local library, then to a toyshop with an infamous item that keeps returning no matter how often it gets sold, and finally up to a much-photographed tourist spot with epic views of Overmere Lake’s obsidian-mirrored surface, a place where a certain local legend hosted exclusive and disturbing dinner parties.
Such a small group should be easy to manage… except it becomes clear from the start that they are being followed. Has Walter broken free of his haunting? Or is something more sinister at play?
Purchase Links:
Excerpt:
‘You sure you’re ready for this?’ asks Hannah, her eyes of indigo ice fiercely lit. Hers is a gaze that doesn’t know how to waver. She strides out from behind her shop counter, a striking avatar in a black velvet overcoat that brushes the laces of her DMs. The boots give her a couple of extra inches, though she’s still no more than five and a half feet.
Even so, Adnan feels a pressure to stand his ground against this preternatural force. He feels under-dressed in black jeans and black T-shirt with a heavy metal logo. She has beautiful wing-tip eyeliner and mauve lipstick: all he’s got is his face. ‘Like the cool kids say, I was born ready.’ Oh God, did I actually just say that?
‘You’ve shaved. You look about twelve, like you’re ready for your first rock concert.’
‘We’re starting with insults already?’
‘That was barely a warm-up. Too late to worry about this,’ she says, gesturing to the totality of his outfit. ‘We’ve only got a few minutes before we have to leave.’ She takes a velvet charm pouch from a pocket and crosses over to the rows of gemstone display cases, each little tub full to the brim with sparkling pebbles. He’s been in the compact shop a few times over the last couple of weeks, and thinks the same thing every time: cave of wonders. There are lumps of crystal in every size, shape and colour, some polished to perfection, others rough as if they’ve been freshly hewn from a sparkling mine. It reminds him of a sweet shop bedecked in tubs full of unctuous and sugary candies. There are so many shelves, seemingly made from crafted driftwood. Some hold jewellery stands with bases in the shape of crescent moons, draped in necklaces of dazzling variety – some are simple cords with crystal shards held in a tiny hammock, others are patterns of gemstone pieces with a silver tree of life at the throat. There are suncatchers in the shape of flitting dragonflies and elegant butterflies and intricate spider-webs. Near them is an array of jewellery boxes and crystal cases. You can buy one in the shape of a pirate’s treasure chest, a twist of tree root with a barely visible seam for the lid, a witch’s cauldron, or an ancient-looking container covered with carved symbols, the kind that keep dark forces in… or out. ‘You’ll have to learn the benefits and uses of every single one of these stones if you intend to stick this out. And if you survive, of course.’
‘Wow. Dramatic.’
‘Cranking up the tension’s all part of the show.’ Nothing in her expression shifts to indicate light humour or caustic sarcasm.
As much as Adnan tries to fight it, he feels off-balance. He can’t find a way to be normal around her. Maybe it’s because there’s nothing normal about what we’re about to do? ‘How many types of crystal are there?’
‘Well, that depends on whether or not you count subcategories and dimensional variants, but that’s a worry for another time. I’m giving you four tonight. Don’t lose them. I can sell these for up to a fiver a pop, so I need them back when we’re done otherwise you’re getting charged. To be fair, I should charge you for making me look at that shirt.’
‘My washer broke, and I still haven’t sent for most of my stuff from my old place, and this is all they had in the charity shop…’
‘Uh-huh. Let’s start you with a nice chunk of aquamarine.’ She holds up a diamond-clear rock that picks up a thin vein of blue from the light. ‘It’s known to provide mental clarity. There’s a joke in that somewhere, but I don’t want to bully you too much just yet. More importantly for our purposes it can boost your courage, which could come in handy if things turn south. By subduing your potential fear, aquamarine can improve your insight, allowing you to see things otherwise hidden by terror. Good start, right? These next two are stones that my Dad insisted no Wyrder should ever be without. Peridot. Look how green it is. I had a cat with eyes like this, what a beauty she was. This is armour against negativity. Doesn’t work against arseholes heckling in the street while you’re trying to lead a group of Walkers, but hey ho, there you go. If you’re scared of a few naughty words from the lowest common denominator, then this line of work really isn’t for you. There’s things out there using a lot more than naughty words.’ She tilts the stone a little, showing off the feline striations. ‘Peridot balances the emotions. Anger and jealousy can be used against you, they’re easily manipulated. This counteracts the ability of outside influences to mess with your head, whether they’re doing it on purpose or not.’
‘They can screw with you accidentally?’
‘It’s important to remember that a lot of them haven’t ended up the way they are because they wanted to. In the same way that life happens to the living, it happened to the dead too. Choice has a lot less to do with our destination than people like to think.’ She slides the first two gemstones into the pouch, then selects a third. ‘We got my old pal Jet here.’ This one’s a thumb-sized pebble, a perfect oval carved from an icy night sky. ‘This’ll keep you grounded. It binds your spirit to the earth, to this specific mortal realm. If you ever get a bit floaty-headed I strongly recommend you get this in the palm of your hand and squeeze it tight or you could end up staring down at your own lifeless body from above.
‘Interesting,’ says Adnan, trying on nonchalance. ‘Just curious, how much do you pay for insurance?’
‘I like a bit of humour. How’s this for funny: even though I’m keeping Overmere safe from forces it can barely understand, I have to keep this failing shop open every day of the week if I hope to make ends meet. Work all day, work all night, stress all the time.’ She sighs, exasperated at herself. ‘Ignore me moaning. I let my mouth run too much sometimes. Am I putting you off? I probably am, if you’ve got a brain. Don’t let the danger and lack of money make you think twice.’ The self-doubt may be fleeting, but it shows a glimpse of what’s behind the shield.
‘No, no, I’m not put off at all, don’t worry about it. I’m sure there’s things about me that are quite challenging…’
She cuts him off. ‘We need to hurry. The last one’s Kyanite, you can get ones cut to look like sapphires, I’ve seen people who think they’re wearing a very expensive necklace but it’s really set with one of these cheap beauties. In fairness kyanite should be worth more, considering what it brings. Basically it’ll give you calmness and clarity when it’s hitting the fan.’ She drops it in the pouch, gives the quartet a rattle, and pulls the two ends of the drawstring. ‘See if you can remember them when we’re done. A little test at the end.’ She tosses the protective collection his way. Ad fumbles the catch. ‘Smooth moves. Let’s get going. We start at eight sharp and it’ll take us a few minutes to walk there.’
Outside, as she locks up, he takes a moment to browse the window display. Violet and indigo satin drapes peppered with fine sprays of white paint depict a night-time scene, with a large metallic crescent moon hanging from the ceiling, a small price tag tied to one tip. Beneath this, on a lump of wood carved into a grinning Halloween tree, sits a majestic owl, forever stretching its broad wings. Dangling from these wings and the branches are a selection of necklaces and bracelets bearing all kinds of symbols. There’s a blazing eye, a splay-fingered hand, an upside-down pyramid, a fox wearing a crown, an intricate cube resembling a puzzle box, a tiny quiver of arrows, a delicate weave of brass waves, and more. ‘What do all these mean, then? Are they for protection, or…’
‘Not now. Maybe we’ll go over them after the Walk, if we don’t have any delays. Come on, keep up.’ She sets off at a firm stride, a real hiker’s pace.
It takes him a few skips to catch up. ‘Where are we going?’
‘Meeting point’s the clock tower, after that our first exciting location is… drum roll please… the library. You said you’ve been here a couple of months, right? You learned where the library is?’
‘Near the clock tower, right?’
‘Clever. And right-ish. It’s behind the central arcade to the east of the clock tower. It’s an old and chunky building that’s managed to hide itself from the tourist thoroughfares. You’ll need to get yourself a good map of the area. Don’t go relying on phone apps to get you around. Spirits love messing about with digital stuff, and if you follow a sat-nav they could take you round and round in circles or far, far worse. There’s a lot of routes to memorise.’
‘Yeah, you said that the other night, on my first Walk.’
‘And look at you, you came back for more.’
‘Well, you know, you asked me, so…’
‘Remember what I told you about that night,’ she says, crossing roads without checking for traffic, ‘it was an unusually quiet one. Obviously that was a good result for me, as it meant everything was under control, but you normally get at least one little phenomenon to give the customers a quick thrill. They never realise how much work it takes to stop those little wobbles becoming an all-out attack or possession, but it gives them something to tell their friends over a pint. With no wobble, there was nothing for me to talk you through. Ideally we want one of the spooks to properly push the boundaries tonight, give you an idea of what to expect when things go wrong.’
‘But generally speaking, we don’t want things to go wrong.’
‘Absolutely not. Ironic, isn’t it? I want an easy life, but if you’re going to learn anything, the easy life won’t cut it. Thing is, it can really ruin your week if one of these buggers gets a grip on you. Done any more writing since I saw you last, Mr. Author? Bashed out a bestseller?’
Adnan’s glad she keeps her focus on her destination as heat plumes up from his throat. ‘I, uh, not so much, no.’
‘Coming to Overmere to kickstart that writing career is working out well, then. Ignore me, I’m ribbing you, if I put pen to paper I’d barely know how to string a sentence together.’
‘You’ve got enough chat to make up for it.’
‘Hey, snappy comeback, like it. That aquamarine must be kicking in.’
‘I haven’t done what you’d call proper writing for most of this week, day job gets in the way a bit, but there was lots of jotting down ideas and plans and that’s the important part, those are the bones you slap the meat on, no bones and you just get a pile of saggy flesh.’
‘Graphic.’
‘Thanks. I was busy going through that book you gave me as well.’
Those big, gemstone eyes of Hannah’s momentarily fixate on him. They have an interior sparkle, crystals with the power of hypnotism. ‘You never did. You’re only saying that to avoid detention.’
‘No, seriously, I got through the first chapter…’
‘Got through it? As long as you’re enjoying yourself.’
He feels himself riling up slightly, as if she’s tied a small knot somewhere in his gut. ‘Didn’t say I didn’t. But it was… It was the definition of a ghost.’
‘Yep.’
‘A twenty-two page definition of what ‘ghost’ means. Like, it was what you’d see in a dictionary, where it says the word ‘Ghost’, then how to pronounce the word, then a little paragraph on what the word means, except much, much longer than any dictionary definition I’ve ever seen. This was about six or seven thousand words long.’
‘Keep your pace up, we’re nearly at the meet.’ They’ve reached the northern end of the high street, wide and pedestrianised. The shops all shut a couple of hours before Hannah’s did. None bother with shutters. There are a few modern bars advertising 2-for-1 cocktails, a couple of well-aged pubs proud in their dotage. A handful of smokers linger outside The Overmere Arms, laughing more than necessary at half-arsed jokes. They spot Hannah coming. The youngest of them, sporting a neon blue tracksuit and a permanent squint, shouts over: ‘Finally caught yourself a goblin, Warden?’
It’s like a self-agitating flare goes off behind Adnan’s ribs. ‘From what I heard, it’s your mother that does all the gobblin’, mate.’
‘What… What did he say to me? Oi, what did you say?’ The lad bounces on his heels like a boxer ready for round one. ‘Come on, say it again!’
Hannah scowls at Adnan, nudges him onwards. ‘Well done, genius. You broke a rule I set literally five minutes ago.’
He keeps an eye on the smokers. Two make a big play of holding Tracksuit back, although the bolshy lad doesn’t seem to be putting as much effort into running over as his volume suggests. ‘That wasn’t a rule, more like… part of a conversation.’
‘It was a rule.’
‘All I was doing was…’
She stops, points an accusing finger in his face. ‘If you use any phrase that could be translated as ‘I was protecting your honour’, I will pull out the greasy ropes of your guts.’
He goes cross-eyed staring at a finger that’s willing to disembowel him. ‘That’s the last thing I was going to say, the very last. I was giving that numbnut what he asked for, that’s all.’
Hannah resumes walking, her strides a little longer, her footfalls a little louder. ‘Great. You’ve got a short fuse and think you’re a tough guy.’
‘That’s twisting things out of shape, don’t you think?’
They approach the clock tower. At a paltry three storeys, it’s one of the tallest buildings in Overmere. The Visitor’s Centre juts from its rear, an ill-fitting combination of centuries-old stonework and motion-sensored sliding doors. Once upon a time it was a compact village hall where meetings were held by lamplight. Now its windows are packed with bright posters for the latest amateur plays at the Lakeside Theatre and displays of overpriced gifts and trinkets. ‘You either ignore those people or answer with something sweet, it takes the power away from them. You’ve decided to get into wordplay with someone who’s thick, and then you wonder why it winds them up.’
‘Nah, nah, you can’t ignore them, it makes them think they got away with it so they keep doing it.’
The disappointment in her face pinches his lungs. ‘Power isn’t taken, it’s given. You’ve got so much more to learn than a few lines in a book.’ Hannah goes off ahead, to where a few people mill about under the clock tower’s gaze.
‘That turned against me quickly. Great job,’ he mutters to himself. ‘How do I always muck things up at the worst possible moment.’
About the Author:
Steve Conoboy wrote approximately 73 dillion words before deciding which ones to publish. He’s still not sure they’re in the correct order, and wishes they’d sort themselves out. He was once seen by a ghost, has bitten a werewolf, and one time he was invited in by a vampire, but he declined the offer. Spectres would invade the house he shares with his partner in North East England, but they’re too scared of the kids and cats.
Social Media Links:
Website: www.steveconoboy.com
A free prequel to the Warden Of The Weird series can be found on the website, along with a sign up to a fortnightly newsletter.
Facebook: www.facebook.com/AuthorSteveConoboy
Amazon author page: https://www.amazon.com/stores/Steve-Conoboy/author/B00FOJ62YK
Reading Nook 