(Author's Note: This chapter is dedicated to tlryder and her bewitching ONC story, The Witch's Quest)

Rik was dreaming.

He was back in Ari's house, climbing the stairs to his room. He didn't remember opening the door, but suddenly he was inside, standing beside the bed, looking down on Ari as he slept. He smiled as he tenderly brushed a lock of hair back from his forehead. Still smiling, he picked up the pillow next to Ari's head and pressed it down over his face...

Rik sat up with a start, his eyes searching wildly around the room, his heart pounding and his breath coming in short gasps.

What the-? The nightmare had seemed so real! Was it possible? Could he have committed the murders himself? Perhaps in a fugue state that he couldn't remember? Maybe those dizzy spells were even more sinister than he had imagined... A symptom that he was going mad.

He got out of bed, draped the robe around his body and padded down to the bathroom. He washed his face in running cold water and gulped down a few mouthfuls from his cupped hand.

What a horrible dream, but that's all it was – a dream. He couldn't really be a killer, could he?

He was subdued at breakfast the next morning, the nightmare's tendrils still floating around in his head. He pushed the bacon idly around his plate, not really hungry for once.

"Everything all right, Rik?" asked the Viscount, poking his head into the kitchen. "I have another job for you this morning if you're up to it."

"Of course, sir," said Rik, straightening in his chair and plastering a smile on his face.

Ned rolled his eyes.

"I have the rest of the payment for the clockmaker here." He held up a small bag. "Can you deliver it for me? You can take one of the bikes again."

"Yes sir... I mean, Ned," answered Rik, getting to his feet. Actually, visiting Ari / Aron was the last thing Rik felt like doing this morning, after the nightmare, but he could hardly tell that to his employer.

Exasperated, Ned waved his hand toward the table. "There's no rush! Finish your breakfast first. Please." He turned to the butler. "Martin, would you give Rik the name of the cab company we use? Tomorrow is Freyasday and I'll be visiting the mills as usual, with Rik. Rik can book the cab on his way back from the clockmakers."

"Of course, sir."

Rik sat and gobbled the rest of his breakfast, suddenly hungry again. The nightmare had been scary, true, but it was only a dream, after all.

A trip to the mills tomorrow would take his mind off things. He'd seen pictures in books, but it would be exciting to see them at first hand in real life, and perhaps it would do him good to see Aron again. He could remind himself of the differences, become clearer in his own mind that this man was not Ari.

~~~~

Aron was seated at his work bench, working on his latest invention. Ann had laughingly called it another one of his toys, but Aron thought it might become much more than that. If it worked as he hoped, it would become something every adult would want. And he could probably create a simpler, cheaper, child's version too. The ideas were popping in his head like popcorn in a saucepan.

He turned the lamp up as bright as he could make it, then adjusted it slightly for a better angle. His right eye was grotesquely magnified by the loupe strapped to his forehead, as he manoeuvred the tiny cogs and springs, occasionally using a fine pick to prod one into place.

Several small circles of polished glass lay on the bench waiting, and there was a basket containing scraps of leather, cut into strips. All ready to go as soon as he completed the most important component.

He held his breath as he attached the two tiny pointers. There. It was done. He breathed a sigh of relief. Now to fix the glass in place to protect the delicate instrument and then attach his creation to one of the pieces of leather, or possibly a tiny chain. He hadn't decided.

He was interrupted by Ann, calling to him from the doorway. "Aron? Mr Santo is here with the Viscount's payment. Can you come down?"

"Just a minute," he murmured. "I've almost finished. He'll be interested to see this, in fact, I'm counting on Ned to be the first person to purchase one. Let me see..." He pulled a handful of leather strips from the basket. "Black, I think, for him. Not too wide... I want it to look masculine, but elegant."

He completed the task as he spoke and held up the finished product to his sister.

"What do you think? Isn't it wonderful?" he asked, proudly.

Ann glanced at it briefly, worried more about keeping the man downstairs with the money waiting, than admiring her brother's latest creation.

"Well, I think it's marvellous, but then I'm your sister. Let's go down and see what a stranger makes of it."

Muttering about wet quilts, Aron slipped the item into his pocket and followed Ann down stairs.

Rik had been browsing along the shelf of toys while he waited. The cat had gone, along with the horse and rider, but they'd been replaced by a red parrot and a mechanical man on a bicycle. The detail was amazing.

"Good morning, sir. I hope you are well?" Aron's tones were deeper than Ari's light baritone.

Rik spun around. Although the similarity still tugged at his heart, this time, the differences were more pronounced. Ari's expression had been sunny and open. Aron was much harder to read.

"Very well, thank you, Mr Schroeder." Rik took the small bag out from inside his waistcoat.

"I have the Viscount's payment here for you. For the jewel beetle."

He gave the bag to Aron. "Please count it, to make sure that's the right amount."

Aron smiled. "I'm sure it's fine."

Rik flushed faintly. "Nevertheless, I'd appreciate it if you could check. I'm new to the Viscount's employment and I want to make sure I do everything correctly." Rik added the explanation hastily, suddenly fearing that Aron might think that he, Rik, didn't trust him.

"Of course," agreed Aron, still with a faint smile on his lips.

Aron counted the money, then poured it back into the bag. "Payment received in full," he smiled and handed the bag to Ann.

"Now I have something else here which I think your employer might like." He took his latest creation from his pocket and handed it to Rik.

Rik took it reverently, turning it over in his hands. "It's a tiny clock!" He exclaimed.

"Here, let me. Hold out your arm." Aron took the piece back and carefully fastened the leather strap around Rik's wrist. "There."

Rik's eyes widened in delight as he turned his wrist one way and then the other. "It's amazing! What do you call it?"

"I haven't quite decided, though I rather favour a 'wrist clock'. I made this one for the Viscount, so you can take it with you now if you would, and then you can come back later and tell me what he thinks of it."