PROLOGUE
The Labyrinth of Neverwhen raged.
Blinding white light shot toward the sky as if looking to split the night open—but if you went closer, you’d see that was not the case.
The white light spread all around the Labyrinth, too, and it was looking todestroy—not something ordinary, but something very, very dangerous.
A curse.
A curse cast by a boy with a Timekeeper Clock in his hands, full of hours and hours that some might argue did not belong to him—but then if he was smart enough to steal them from the biggest, most powerful machine ever created in the Clockrealm…
“NEVER!”the White Queen shouted at the top of her voice, and that was quite a lot. The guests—hand-picked people from the most important families who were allowed to enter the Labyrinth to watch the trials—heard her.
And Calren Hock, the youngestRoyalTimekeeper in the past seventy years, was close enough that his ears rang from the sound.
“Don’t—don’t—DON’T, YOUR MAJESTY!”
His shout was lost to the blast of magic that shot from her, white as a Diamond’s, though the Royal Timekeeper knew she had been a Spade before. The magic spread on all sides, andhisown, a pure teal color, rose to meet it.
But the shield only reached as far as the seconds before impact allowed, which was roughlytwo.
Two seconds, and the Royal Timekeeper’s shield made it halfway to the boy with the clock in his hands, casting a curse by weaving minutes and hours he had no business knowing how to weave—but there he was. Bleeding, half dead already, chanting words and unleashing intent, as well as all the magic in his clock.
Then everything exploded.
White—that was all the world was made of for that second. White, all consuming, so powerful it sent everything, everyoneflying. It sent the Royal Timekeeper flying, too, from where he’d tried to stop the queen, but it did not move the boy who’d cast the curse. That teal-colored half-shield had done its job better than he himself expected and had protected the boy who cast the curse, if only physically.
Silence when the darkness fell.
The light disappeared all at once, and the shadows came from everywhere around the trees like they were peeling off their bark.
The Royal Timekeeper raised his head to find every single person who’d been in this forest on the ground. He barely felt his body, felt the magic rushing through his veins, rebelling against the power—too much power—but he’d always thought of his own mind as a stubborn beast. Anditwas the only reason he managed to push himself off the ground, to reach for the nearest tree to help with his balance; the only reason he made it all the way to his knees when everyone was still motionless on the ground. Unconscious.
Including the White Queen.
His mind worked. The hands of his Timekeeper Clock vibrated and he felt them clearly, the magic begging to be used—but that was just raw instinct, his body trying to protect itself.
The Royal Timekeeper knew that there would be no protecting the boy who cast the curse if the White Queen woke up and found him there against the tree, one foot in the Everstill.
It was a fast decision, one of the fastest he’d ever made. He was on his feet somehow, though he could have sworn his limbs were mere ghosts of what they had been before that blast. He made it to the boy, limping, turning his head back to see the white fabric of the queen’s dress bundled on the ground, to make sure she hadn’t awakened. And the other Hands…
They were everywhere, sprawled all over the ground.Alive,he hoped.
He very much hoped, and he battled the guilt quickly—as their warden it had been his job to keep them safe. His job.
But what could a Royal Timekeeper do against a queen of the Clockrealm?
Very little.
Hecouldoutrun her when she was unconscious, at least.
That’s exactly what he did. Swallowing the guilt and convincing himself that hewasstrong enough to carry the boy who cast the curse over his shoulder, he did just that. Stubborn beast, indeed. His knees shook but didn’t give. Before he wholly understood what was happening, he was carrying the boy—thetallboy, heavy, even if he looked skinny to the eye. So heavy that his feet sank into the soil a little bit, and the boy mumbled something about curses and truths and theft—yet the Royal Timekeeper kept going. He kept moving and he didn’t know where he was going, but hisfeet did. He no longer could turn to make sure the queen wasn’t following, but he hoped it with all his seconds.
Then there was a building, wide and white and tall—The Ever.
It was dark outside, the sky angry, but he didn’t really need light to see as he stumbled forward, through doors, down hallways, a single thought in his head:don’t stop.Whatever happened, he knew that if he stopped, he’d have lost. The only way this ended well was if he continued onward until his legs gave.
They didn’t, though.
