I’d seen it from a distance plenty of times, but from up close, it was something else entirely. The stone was old and dark and carved with lines that could have been symbols or warnings, and I couldn’t have read them either way. The tower itself seemed to vibrate—a low, constant hum that came up through the cobblestones and into the soles of my shoes.
Kohen guided us along the edge of the plaza, keeping to the shadows of the buildings. From here, we could just make out two guards standing at the main entrance in their silver armor that shone under the moonlight, their hands resting on the belts that held their swords and daggers.
With Kohen’s wave, we pressed against the wall of a shuttered shop, and the door and sign must have been on the other side because I couldn’t see it. I was looking for it—looking for a distraction before my heart beat all the way out of my chest for real. I was looking foranythingto take my mind off what we were doing, but there was nothing but shadows, and the numbers turning in my head.
…forty-two, forty-three, forty-four…
March’s hand found mine in the dark. I held onto it with all my strength.
Forty-six, forty-seven, forty?—
The ground shuddered, wiping my mind clean. Notviolently—just a vibration that rose through the cobblestones and rattled the shop windows behind us.
We all stopped moving, breathing, blinking.
Then came another sound, this a deep, metallic groan from somewhere beneath our feet, followed by a high-pitched whistle that grew louder and louder…
Time’s Teeth, it wasworking.
Right before our eyes, massive plumes of steam were shooting up from the street grates just thirty feet away, the smoke white and so thick it swallowed the light of the lantern nearby.
Everything changed with the second.
Alarms rang unlike anything I’d ever heard before, a rhythmic clanging coming from somewhere inside the tower itself. I was pretty sure every single person in Neverwhen could hear it, if not the entire Clockrealm.
The guards were already moving, running toward the other side, shouting orders I couldn’t hear over the sound of the alarm.
“Now!”Kohen suddenly said, when my limbs were still frozen. “Go, go, go!”
Master Talik was already moving. He crossed the open ground between the shop and the tower’s eastern wall in seconds, moving faster than I’d ever have expected. His hand-lantern was raised, his key in the other hand, and he looked like a man on a mission for real.
The only reason I was able to follow was because March pulled me forward, and then my legs remembered what it was like to walk, to run across the cobblestones as more and more steam came out of the grates everywhere on the street.
We heard nothing over the alarm, not even when Master Talik opened the door. He pressed his back to the side of it and waved for us to get through fast, eyes on the plaza behind us.
The tower. We were entering the actual tower below the Great Clock. The thought hit me hard just as I passed the threshold.
Then way too soon, and much later at the same time, the door closed.
The sound of the alarm was muffled now, distant, no longer threatening to make my skull burst. All of us were inside—except Kohen. He’d remained out there.
Part of the plan, part of the plan,I told the panic building up inside me. So far, everything had gone according to the plan. There was no reason to believe that somethingwouldn’tbefore this whole madness was over, was there? No, not yet.
“Stairs,” Master Talik whispered once we weren’t breathing like we’d been running marathons for days. “Stay close to me, don’t touchthe walls, andmind the floor.”
I looked at March. He looked at me. In the darkness of the small space that door had led us to, with the hum of the Great Clock vibrating through every surface, his eyes were the only thing I could see clearly.
Nobody said another word.
Together, we began to climb.
The service stairwaywas barely wide enough for two people to walk side by side, and the stone was old, cracked, slick with condensation that dripped from the pipes running along the ceiling.
Pipes everywhere.
Master Talik climbed ahead of us, his hand-lantern illuminating the way, and he walked like he’d been here a hundred times before, his every step precise. Meanwhile, I kept expecting the stairs to swallow me with every new step I took.
Sweat on my brow, on my back, making the shirt stick to my skin in an uncomfortable way. The hum grew louder as we climbed. Not in my ears, but in my chest and my teeth, even my fingertips. To think that the actual Great Clock was right over our heads was overwhelming all on its own, so I didn’t. I just kept my mind on the stairs and on March’s hand in mine.
