Pendulum Reading Novels & Stories

Then, a deep, resonant, and solid sound vibrated through the stone floor. 'Thump.' The massive brass escapement wheel advanced exactly one tooth. The heavy pendulum, suspended from a carbon-fiber rod, swung through its arc with a slow, majestic momentum that felt entirely disconnected from the frantic pace of the modern world outside. 'Thump.' Maya leaned her head lightly against Julian’s shoulder, watching the golden reflection of the gears dance across the dark surface of his safety glasses. "How long will it run?" she whispered into the cool air.

(PENDULUM) “TICK-TOCK, TICK-TOCK, TICK-TOCK.” The sound of the clock echoes, with its pendulum that swings rhythmically and paves for another mystery to be open and be revealed along with the secrets of the past and the sins of the prominent ones.

The final pendulum was the largest, its swing wide and forceful, its edge cruelly serrated. Gathering his strength, Ty sprinted forward, his timing impeccable. He slid beneath the pendulum at the exact moment it reached its apex, the blade missing him by a hair's breadth. He tumbled out of the gauntlet, rolling to his feet in one fluid motion. He stood there, chest heaving, muscles trembling with exhaustion and adrenaline.

As my eyes adjusted to the deep twilight, the fragile, flickering ember of hybrid fire in my blood flared slightly, casting a faint, pale violet luminescence through my fingertips. The light revealed a colossal circular chamber. The walls were lined with towering rows of iron shelves, each one stacked high with ancient, leather-bound ledgers, shattered brass spheres, and the preserved, skeletal remains of the old sovereign court. In the center of the room stood the source of the sound: a massive, fifteen-foot pendulum made of solid, light-swallowing black iron, swinging with a heavy, deliberate momentum over a deep, circular pit in the floor. But the clock was not just keeping time.

Several minutes later he turns it toward me. The standing invitation works because it is sincere. Leo Mantel read it fourteen times before believing it truly included him. His account belongs in the archive because someone else will read the invitation once, twice, perhaps fourteen times before believing it belongs to them. They deserve to know that fourteen readings are perfectly acceptable if that is what belief requires. I read it twice. "The right number is whatever it takes," I say. He nods. "That is what the appendix needs to explain." Then he returns to the archive room.

He stepped in front of her protectively. It was getting harder not to laugh. “It’s a pendulum. It was originally used to measure time,” she explained. “This one tracks Earth’s orbit.” “What’s moving it?” he asked, peering suspiciously up at the point where the rod and pivot disappeared into the ceiling.