Lady Door of the House of Arch (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
iopenthings) wrote2004-08-03 03:46 pm
iopenthings) wrote2004-08-03 03:46 pm
Part 2
Door knew paths nobody else in the underside knew. They were dark and dangerous and only an opener could get to them, as far as she was aware. Door was aware of a great many things that went on in London Below - far more than anyone could ever imagine. The pigeons told her things; the rats passed along messages they did not even share with the Ratspeakers; the Marquis provided her with whispers and gossip.
Door was unnoticable, when she wanted to be. A tiny slip of a girl with a huge leather jacket and flat grey eyes didn't attract much attention at the Floating Market, especially when she was not recognizably a member of any major fiefdom. She heard things: conversations, rumours, muttered threats.
She did not know everything that went on, but she was one of the most well informed people in the city.
Her father began teaching her at the age of three. She learned to control her opening powers, learned her way around London Below, was introduced to the most important people and places. Knightsbridge would never take her. The Shepherds would allow her to pass unharmed. The ringmaster at Picadilly Circus would provide her with a front row seat and free candy floss.
While Door would almost certainly never see all of London Below, she had seen more of it than most people knew existed.
Now she was moving through a series of meadows that had gotten stuck in London Below thousands of years before. Here was the one she and Tom and Ingress went flying in - and yes, the grass was still bent down from their picnic. This meadow had huge trees made of gold; the next was filled with unicorn skeletons, laid out in neat rows, each horn still intact and glowing. She was quite sure that both of these meadows were all but forgotten. If they were found, they would be stripped bare.
Door slipped from room to meadow to hallway to rooftop, avoiding being seen, moving steadily towards Down Street.
Door was unnoticable, when she wanted to be. A tiny slip of a girl with a huge leather jacket and flat grey eyes didn't attract much attention at the Floating Market, especially when she was not recognizably a member of any major fiefdom. She heard things: conversations, rumours, muttered threats.
She did not know everything that went on, but she was one of the most well informed people in the city.
Her father began teaching her at the age of three. She learned to control her opening powers, learned her way around London Below, was introduced to the most important people and places. Knightsbridge would never take her. The Shepherds would allow her to pass unharmed. The ringmaster at Picadilly Circus would provide her with a front row seat and free candy floss.
While Door would almost certainly never see all of London Below, she had seen more of it than most people knew existed.
Now she was moving through a series of meadows that had gotten stuck in London Below thousands of years before. Here was the one she and Tom and Ingress went flying in - and yes, the grass was still bent down from their picnic. This meadow had huge trees made of gold; the next was filled with unicorn skeletons, laid out in neat rows, each horn still intact and glowing. She was quite sure that both of these meadows were all but forgotten. If they were found, they would be stripped bare.
Door slipped from room to meadow to hallway to rooftop, avoiding being seen, moving steadily towards Down Street.