Nevermore (The Never Sky #2)

Chapter 38

38

“ I ’m honestly underwhelmed. Is that a word? I’m pretty sure it is. All this time I thought this was just a clock.”

“Stop talking. You’re embarrassing yourself,” Harlow told Archer, though I’d caught the smile tugging on her lips. “How many temples have you been to? If you had to guess?”

“Just Serene’s, so one,” he said back, staring up at the giant clock ticking above us.

“Ever?” Harlow and I asked in unison.

“Fine. Maybe more. I don’t remember.”

“You don’t have to go in if you don’t want to, Archie,” Thorne said, swinging an arm over his shoulder.

“Listen,” he said, shoving Thorne’s arm away until he escaped his hold. “I’m pretty sure she’d like to use our bones as clock handles. And you’re reckless when it comes to pissing off the gods. Do I want to go in there? No. But am I going to? Yes. Because my house is full of orphans, and sure, they’re okay, but I’d rather it be full of silence.”

“They can stay as long as they want,” Harlow glared.

Much to all of our disappointment, it’d taken three days for Vesalia to agree to meet with us. Three days of displaced Salt. Three days of alternating cat naps on couches at the Parlor with a rotation of Salt staying wherever we could hide them in the city. Three days of glances at Thorne and subtle touches and nothing more. But finally, we were here, standing at the base of the clock tower that I’d never have guessed was a temple.

“It makes more sense to put as many orphans as we can in Thorne’s house. You’re in the heart of the Silk district. There’s no way we can keep hiding everyone over there,” I said.

“This is why we’re friends,” Archer agreed, ducking away from Thorne to move to my side. “Always the logical one.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re just saying that because I beat you at cards again this morning.”

“I didn’t let you shuffle. You couldn’t have cheated. Tell me your secret, Fingers.”

Harlow knocked on the door again, winking at me. She’d been the secret, of course, swapping his deck of cards when he wasn’t paying attention. Passing time with a bunch of thieves was, at minimum, entertaining.

“Did she not say three o’clock?”

Thorne slipped his hand around mine. The first committed touch in days. “She did. And it will be three o’clock on the dot. Not a second earlier.”

I spun to him as the bell began to toll. “And will you be playing nice today?”

He forced a smile. “I will if she will.”

“Well, we’re all going to die,” Archer said as the bell stopped and the door swung open, welcoming us into the Goddess of Time’s temple.

The space was nothing like I imagined, as if stepping through the door had taken us to a different place. A different time, though I knew that to be impossible. Magic, however? Power? That could trick the eye into almost anything.

The temple gleamed under the soft flicker of lanterns, their light catching on white stone walls. Standing close to the wall, I traced my fingers along the gold trim that circled the room, intricate patterns twisting beneath my touch like they were spun from threads of time.

Thorne tugged me toward him. “Touch with your eyes, Paesha darling.”

Above us, massive clocks were embedded in the walls, their faces glowing faintly. The steady, quiet ticking echoed through the space like a dissipating war drum. Cold, white sand shifted beneath our boots as we walked, leaving shallow imprints in its fine grains. The place was so bright, so pure, it was hard to believe it existed in the heart of a city so broken. Ahead, an enormous golden door loomed, framed by massive hourglasses spilling dark grains in a measured cadence, as though counting out the final bars of a song.

I couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched, of something old and powerful lurking just beyond sight. The clocks grew louder, the sound sinking into my bones until at once, they stopped. It wasn’t silence, not really. It was a pause, a moment where time held its breath, waiting.

The door swung open and Vesalia all but floated out, her long silver hair glistening as much as those pale eyes of hers did. Her smile was almost venomous. She gestured toward the largest clock. “Right on time. How absolutely delicious! Come.” She spun, her deep red dress flowing behind her in waves.

Archer looked around. “You guys heard delicious, right?”

“Grow a pair,” Harlow said, the first of the group to follow the goddess beyond the golden door.

“I did,” he said, following her. “Apparently they shrink in times of terror.”

“Untrue,” Thorne whispered into my ear.

“Shockingly, I didn’t need confirmation.” I said, letting him go in first.

We followed Vesalia into a grand chamber, the walls lined with more clocks of varying sizes and designs. Some were simple and elegant, others ornate and intricate, but all ticked in perfect unison, a symphony of measured time. In the center of the room stood a massive, golden sundial, its shadow slicing across the polished floor like a blade.

The goddess perched on the edge of a plush velvet chaise, crossing her legs with feline grace. She gestured for us to sit in the chairs arranged before her. We did so warily, after Thorne deliberately grabbed the chair meant for me and slid it all the way over until it butted up against his chair. And Archer, never one to miss a trend, did the same with Harlow’s, making an absolute scene of it, letting the legs groan across the white marble floor.

“So,” the goddess purred. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”

Thorne leaned forward, his expression serious. “The clocks you gifted me? I’m sure you’ll remember them. They need to be removed from my home. Immediately.”

She tossed her head back and laughed. “Oh, my darling, I gifted you a lesson. Not the clocks.”

He glared. “Lesson learned.”

“Time is my domain. I alone decide when a lesson begins and ends.”

Harlow shifted uneasily, shooting me a worried glance. I could feel the tension radiating off Thorne, see the muscle ticking behind his stubble as he struggled to rein in his temper. Something about the gods changed him. Twisted him into a man with no control.

Vesalia’s eyes slid from Thorne to me. Her lips curved into a slow smile. “Bold of you to bring the Huntress. I can only imagine that was a calculated move.”

Thorne let his rigid body relax, slipping into the man he needed to be to bargain with a goddess. “She’s here because she is my wife. Her power has nothing to do with it.”

The goddess waved a dismissive hand. “Wife, Huntress, it matters not. Labels are such fleeting, mortal constructs. She is a woman out of time, plucked from the fabric of fate and woven into your story.” Her gaze bore into me, ancient and knowing. “I see you’re sleeping better than when we first met. The circles have vanished. How charming.”

I did not cower. I’d had about enough of these damn gods. In that, Thorne and I were the same. “We’ve barely slept in days waiting to meet with you.”

“Not the quantity. The quality. How fleeting your memory is.” Vesalia laughed, the sound like tinkling crystal echoing through the chamber. She rose from her chaise in a whisper of silk, gliding over to stand before an ornate grandfather clock. One I’d seen before, hidden in the depths of a serpent’s fucking eyes.

This bitch.

It was her. Her meddling. Her nightmares. Her torture. My despair. She’d ruined almost every single night I’d spent in Wisteria. But why?

Vesalia ran a delicate finger along the clock’s polished wood, tracing the intricate carvings. “Time is a curious thing, is it not? It can be a great healer or a cruel mistress. It can bring love or sorrow, clarity or confusion. And for some…” Her eyes flicked to me again. “It can be a prison.”

Thorne tensed beside me, his hand tightening on the armrest. “Enough with the riddles, Vesalia. We came here for a simple request. Remove the clocks from my home. You’ve had your fun.”

But time was a prison. At least for me. And the walls were closing in with every night that passed. Each day. And she knew that. Holy shit. She knew. Which meant… if I could see her alone. If I could ask her…

The goddess turned to face Thorne with a mocking smile. “Nothing is ever simple with you, Thorne Noctus. You, who wear so many masks, play so many roles. The devoted husband, the cunning thief, the benevolent lord. Have I listed them all? Which is the real you, I wonder? How weak are you?”

“He is not weak, Vesalia. May I call you Vesalia? I think I will.” I stood from my chair and crossed the room, staring at the hands of the clock beside her, poised to strike.

“I don’t think that would be wise, Huntress.”

“I think this clock is off.” I traced a finger along the face, tilting my head as if studying it intently. “For a Goddess of Time, I would expect nothing short of perfection. And yet, this one seems to be running just a hair slow. A fraction of a second, perhaps, but still… one must wonder.”

Vesalia’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of irritation passing over her lovely features before she smoothed it away with a practiced smile. “My clocks are never wrong, mortal. They keep the rhythm of the universe.”

I hummed a noncommittal sound as I moved to the next clock, a towering masterpiece of gears and golden filigree. “If you say so. But you know, I’ve always found time to be rather subjective. Fleeting and fickle, bending to the whims of perception.” I glanced over my shoulder at her, a mischievous glint in my eye. I had no fucking clue what I was talking about, but I held her attention as surely as her breath.

I ran my fingers along the intricate engravings on the clock’s face, tracing the swirling patterns. “Take this design, for instance. Beautiful, to be sure, but rather… busy, don’t you think? So many flourishes and embellishments. One might argue it distracts from the clock’s true purpose.”

I moved on to the next, a sleek, modern creation of brushed steel and careful lines. “Now this, this is more my style. Clean, efficient, no unnecessary frills. It knows what it is and doesn’t try to be anything else. Admirable, really.”

Vesalia’s lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes flashing with barely contained ire. “I didn’t bring you here to critique my decor, mortal.”

“You didn’t bring us here at all. We walked.” I reached into the clock, and despite her gasp, spun the hand backward.

Behind me, Archer made a strangled sound, halfway between a gasp and a cough. Harlow elbowed him sharply in the ribs. I knew I’d lost my ever-loving mind pushing a goddess. But Thorne had done it with minimal repercussions.

The Goddess stormed forward, snatching my hand and wrenching it backward.

The world blurred and stretched around us, the grand chamber and its ticking clocks fading into a hazy background. Suddenly, we were alone, standing in a small, circular room, the walls lined with mirrors that reflected our images into infinity, and hourglasses. So many hourglasses. But it was not the fact that each one held a different color sand that made them horrifying. It was the people trapped within. Some stared back, mirroring the shock I tried to hide, some slept, others scowled. This was Vesalia’s prison.

“You dare to touch my clocks?” she hissed, her pale cheeks flushing with anger, as she commanded my attention.“You don’t understand the intricacies of time. You fool.”

I ignored her. Walking around the room, dragging a finger over the hourglasses, leaving the glass smudged just to irritate her.

“Don’t touch!” she yelled.

“Yeah, yeah. Shame on me. Listen, I know you know something about me.” For the first time since I’d entered Wisteria, I forced myself to say the words aloud. Pushed and pushed to speak of where I’d come from. Of Quill. Of Thea and Elowen. Of my chosen family. A path. A Fera. But no matter how hard I tried. No matter the words sitting on the edge of my tongue, I could not speak them aloud. The bargain didn’t care that she already knew. I was not allowed to tell her.

“Cat got your tongue, Huntress?”

“Tell me what you know.” There. Not a direct confession of anything. Just a question.

She sauntered forward, grabbing the sides of my face, burning my skin. “It is not for you to ask what I know.”

Her grip tightened on my face, her nails digging in like talons. Her eyes, once a pale, ethereal blue, now glowed with an unholy light, swirling like molten gold. The air crackled with energy, the mirrors vibrating in their frames as if resonating with her fury.

“You are nothing more than a pawn in a game far beyond your comprehension,” she snarled. “A mere mortal, stumbling through the threads of fate, tangling them with your clumsy fingers.” She leaned in close, her breath hot against my cheek. “I have seen the tapestry of your lives, Huntress. I have watched you weave your way through time, leaving chaos and heartache in your wake. You think yourself clever, but you are a child playing with forces you cannot possibly understand.”

I tried to pull away, but her grip was iron, unyielding.

“I should kill you here and now, but there is one that saves you. One hope. One child. Go home, Huntress. Your pa—” She screamed, yanking her hand away from me as she looked down at her gnarled fingers.

With no warning, Vesalia’s eyes glazed over, her expression going slack as if in a trance.

“No,” I screamed, lunging for her, grabbing her by the arms, no matter the consequences. “What were you going to say? Say it. My path. That’s what you were going to say, isn’t it? Tell me.”

She blinked slowly, her gaze unfocused and distant. The anger and fury that had twisted her features moments before melted away, replaced by a dreamy, almost serene look. “Do you see it?” she whispered, her voice soft and reverent. “The sands of time?” She looked back at me, eyes pale once more, blinking rapidly. “What… why are you here?”

“What the fuck just happened?”

The goddess waved her hand, and we returned to the chamber with the others. Thorne and Archer launched themselves out of their chairs, surging for me. Thorne’s large hands cupped my face, tilting it toward the light as he studied the angry red marks left by Vesalia’s nails. The muscles in his jaw clenched and unclenched, a tic pulsing at his temple as he fought to control his temper.

“What did you do to her?” Archer growled.

Vesalia merely smiled, a serene curve of her lips as she settled back on the velvet chaise, smoothing the folds of her gown. “I don’t remember.”

“Nothing,” I said, pulling away from them both. “She did nothing.”

I glanced at Harlow, desperate for help. She stood, clearing her throat, her voice steady as she addressed the goddess. “Vesalia, if I may?” She waited for the goddess’s nod before continuing. “We didn’t come here to cause problems, though some in my party may have forgotten that. We simply came to humbly ask you to remove the clocks from Thorne’s home, so that he may take in Stirling’s orphans. However, if you feel that he has not learned his lesson, I offer a compromise. What if you left only one clock? One that the children would see every day and hear the soft ticking of, so they would know who helped them in their time of need. Imagine the devotion from minds so young. Imagine who they might grow to love.”

Smart. Harlow’s compromise was offering power, even if she hadn’t directly said it.

“I will take the clocks from the home, but there still must be a price paid for the Huntress’s actions. Who will pay with their time? Will it be the one that holds a secret?” Her eyes flashed to Harlow, then slid to Archer. “The one that knows the secret?” She looked at me. “The one that’s chasing?” And then to Thorne. “Or the one that’s scrambling?”

Harlow’s secret? Could she have been referring to her sacrificed power? To her struggling relationship with Wee Willy? Everyone had secrets. And a goddess would make a mountain out of nothing if she thought it would cause chaos. None of these vague ideas mattered except what she’d said about me. I was chasing. Running down a promised path blind and guided by hope and desperation. But the others had no clue and I could only hope they wouldn’t have questions when we left.

For some reason, Vesalia had an invested interest in me going home. Which meant she didn’t want to die. Even if that prick of a god I’d bargained with did. The problem was, as soon as she’d tried to speak of it, she’d forgotten what she was going to say. Because Reverius, God of Whoevers and Whatevers and Realms and Keys and shit, had another name. One that Ro had only called him in my mind. The Keeper of Memories.

This fucker had sent me to a dangerous world and refused to let anyone help me get back. Sure, there was a path, but he’d blocked it repeatedly in his own suicide mission. Or so it seemed, but that couldn’t be right either. Because why bother sending me here at all, if that were the case? The answer was so clear, and yet so difficult. Thorne stood on the path, sure, but there were no meddling gods allowed. Maybe that was Reverius’s way of protecting me. Bastard.

The others bickering back and forth yanked me from my spiraling thoughts.

“Seriously, heads or tails,” Archer said, a coin resting on the tip of his thumb. “I’m not going to let you offer yourself up as bait without trying, Thorne. Let me do this.”

Thorne rolled his eyes and shoved past Archer, moving to my side. “I will pay your cost.”

I slid my hand into his, remembering the way her grip on my face had burned. Reverius had protected me. I had to believe he would again. “I’m the one that made her mad. Let me do it,” I whispered.

Thorne turned, gently moving a finger over my cheek. “Her price will only be time. You heard her. Go back to our home. Get everyone settled in. I’ll come as soon as I’m free.”

There would be no arguing as Vesalia clapped her hands together, stood once more, and walked over to the largest clock. She twisted a lever and the entire face swung open, revealing a door. The room beyond was nothing more than concrete walls and sandy floors.

“How long?” I asked, trying to keep the desperation from my voice.

“Don’t take away all the fun, Huntress.”

“I will fuck with every one of your clocks. Every single one in the entire city. I will make it my personal mission to hunt them down, and change them all, minute by minute so none read true.” I clenched my hands at my side, feeling empowered by the fact that a god was protecting me. “How. Long? You must speak the terms of your bargain for it to be agreed upon.”

Her eyes lit with fury. “Seven months.”

“Absolutely not.” I turned to Thorne. “We can find another place. We don’t need that one. Hell, we can stay in the Parlor. We’ll figure it out.”

He looked beyond me. “One week, Vesalia. You can have one week.”

“It would have only been a day before your Huntress stepped in, but a week with Thorne Noctus sounds delightful. I agree to your terms. Right this way.”