The glass of Julian's garret window was thin, old, and covered in a fine layer of soot from the cooper's chimney below. At eight o'clock that evening, Julian was startled from his misery by three sharp, rhythmic raps against the upper window pane. TAP... TAP-TAP.
Julian looked up, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. "Corvus?" He pushed open the small hinged window frame. The cold night air rushed in, carrying the scent of sea fog and wet stone—and with it came the heavy black silhouette of the raven, who dropped onto the small workbench with a flurry of primary feathers.
Corvus did not ask for food. He walked directly onto Julian's open notebook, dropped the triangular brass file fragment onto the blank page, and clicked his tongue twice. Julian blinked, looking down at the metal scrap. "What's this?"
He picked up his jeweler's loupe, screwed it into his right eye socket, and held the fragment under the lamp flame. His breath hitched sharply.
"Triangular escapement file... Swiss steel..." Julian murmured, his fingers tightening on the metal. "And stamped on the tang... H.R."
He looked up at Corvus, his eyes wide with sudden realization. "Hugo Renard. The Master Horologist's nephew from the Capital."
Corvus tilted his head, giving a low, affirmative throat-gurgle. Hugo Renard had arrived in Oakhaven three weeks ago from the Royal Guild in the capital, sporting a velvet-collared coat, a silver pocket watch that chimed the quarters, and an arrogant claim that the provincial clockmakers of Oakhaven were fifty years behind the times.
He had been lobbying the City Council to award him the exclusive maintenance contract for all three public tower clocks—a contract currently held by Master Vance and his workshop.
"If the cathedral clock fails during the Charter festival," Julian whispered, the pieces falling into place like gears engaging, "Vance loses his license... and Renard steps in with his Capital syndicate to take over the contract."
Corvus hopped to the edge of the workbench, picked up a small steel compass with his beak, and dropped it next to the file fragment. Then he picked up a scrap of copper wire, bent it into a tight hook using his foot and beak in three seconds, and dropped that as well. Julian watched the demonstration in silence.
"You found this in the belfry," Julian said slowly. "Near the louvers."
Corvus clicked once—yes.
"Renard sabotaged the escapement while I was at the Guild hall fetching oil," Julian continued, standing up so fast his chair scraped loudly against the floorboards. "He used magnetic filings to grind the teeth away, then dropped his file when he squeezed back through the louver frame!"
He grabbed his coat from the peg. "I have to take this to Master Vance right now!" He reached for the door handle—then stopped.
His face fell.
"No," Julian said quietly, his hand slumping from the latch. "Vance won't listen to me. He thinks I'm lying to cover my own mistake. If I bring him a broken file fragment and tell him a raven gave it to me... he'll think I'm mad."
Corvus walked over to Julian's boot, reached up, and tugged gently at the leather lace with his beak. Then the raven looked up at the window, spread his wings, and let out a soft, clear call. We need more proof.
Julian looked at the bird, then at the brass file fragment on his desk.
"The other two towers," Julian realized, his eyes kindling with fresh fire. "If Renard wants the whole contract... he won't stop at St. Jude's. He has to sabotage the North Gate Tower and the Market Clock too, before noon on Thursday!"
Corvus fluttered up to the window frame, silhouette black against the moonlit fog. The hunt had begun. Julian reached down to touch the raven's head with one finger, his hand still trembling slightly from the sudden realization. Outside the garret window, the rain had begun to fall in earnest, clicking against the glass like tiny brass pins.
Corvus closed his eyes for a second under the human touch, leaning his weight into Julian's hand before stepping back onto the desk edge. On the drawing board lay Julian's master blueprint of St.
Jude's astronomical movement—a complex, hand-inked diagram showing thirty-two interlocking gear trains, the moon-phase drive, and the heavy escapement assembly. Julian drew his pencil across the margin, sketching the three towers of Oakhaven in sharp geometric lines: St.
Jude's in the center, the North Gate to the north, the Harbor Market to the south. "If Renard is striking the towers sequentially," Julian murmured, "he's following the maintenance schedule published in the Guild Gazette last week."