Chapter Thirty-Nine Trey
Some Time Earlier, Who Knows Anymore, Time is Confusing
The Lord of Grimnight’s Evil Lair
Skulking About
Someone had slipped that envelope into my pocket, but I didn’t know which minions were trustworthy.
Maybe a few of them were on Wilde’s side, while the rest were on my father’s.
If Wilde wanted me to allow myself to be captured, he would have said it in his note.
Since he didn’t, I had to avoid the patrols.
I walked around the whole building, searching for the right opening.
Most of the doors on the first floor were guarded, but eventually I found a neglected fire-escape climbing up the side of the building.
I didn’t remember where the Lord of Grimnight’s study was—not even fuzzy recollections, which probably meant I’d never been there—but Wilde’s rooms had been on the third floor. I’d start there and work my way down.
The fire escape’s ladder had long rusted away, but someone had recognized the safety issue and replaced it with a simple rope ladder. I grabbed the end and tested it, making sure it would hold my weight. Then I slowly started to climb.
This would be a really shitty time for someone to find me.
“What the—stop!” someone shouted from a distance.
Dammit, I know better than to think that shit!
I scrambled up the rest of the rope before whichever minion had spotted me could catch up, then dragged the ladder up behind me.
The lacertian peered up at me through the hole in the balcony, hands on their hips. “Champion, I demand you come down here and surrender yourself.”
I flipped them off and started toward the door.
The balcony groaned under me, then slowly started to tilt.
“Champion!” A hissing note of panic entered their voice. “I mean it! It’s not safe up there!”
I jumped across the remaining distance and grabbed the handle of the door, my feet balanced half on the edge of the balcony, half on the lip of the doorframe.
Crash!
Half of the balcony collapsed behind me.
I flinched and peered over my shoulder at the twisted metal mess below, searching for the minion who’d tried to capture—help?—me.
They’d dove out of the way in time, sprawling face first into the dirt. After a few seconds, they pushed to their feet and dusted themself off, then looked up to where I still hung. They sighed in relief when they confirmed I wasn’t crushed beneath the wreckage.
I jiggled the doorknob, glad to find it unlocked. Opening it proved a little tricky, since it opened out, but there was enough of the balcony remaining for me to step back. It creaked another warning. I rushed inside and closed the door before it finished protesting.
The hall was empty of any guards. Did they think the royal champions wouldn’t make it this far up? Then I heard shouting in the distance—one of the distraction plans was already under way.
There was a small staircase to my right, covered in ivy with little stumps growing out of the stairs. Someone had stopped halfway through clearing it, probably to defend the lair against royal champions.
Falling and breaking my neck would be the most embarrassing way to end my story, so I passed on that route, and continued to the main staircase. As I neared it, I saw one of the guards who had stayed behind.
An orc stood directly in front of the staircase, arms crossed over his halberd. He gazed wistfully down the stairs, toward the commotion, like he resented being left out.
Go on, I urged silently, join in on the fun.
His head started to turn in my direction, and I scrambled out of view, hiding in the less-ideal staircase.
A few minutes passed and he didn’t pursue me.
When I checked the hallway again, he remained dutifully standing at his post.
Since when have you hired competent minions, Old Man?
I sighed, and slowly crept my way up the flora-littered stairs.
At least there was a rail. It wasn’t the most dignified ascent.
I had to lift my feet high over certain plants and shake off the tangling roots of others.
By the time I reached the top, I was more annoyed with the damned curse than I’d been during the entire trek through the forest.
At the landing, I found another guard.
He blinked at me, then his eyes widened. “What the fuck are you doing over there?”
Startled, I backed up and stepped wrong, my foot slipping on the edge of the stairs. Shit! I reached for a rail, a wall, something to stop me from falling.
And grabbed a calloused hand.
The minion hauled me back to my feet and into the hallway, panting from fear as much as exertion. “You’re not supposed to be on the stairs.” Then he remembered I was an intruder. He straightened to his full height and announced, “You’ll have to come with me to face the Lord of Grimnight, Champion.”
“I’m not a champion,” I blurted out. “I uh, was here last night and … forgot my underwear.”
“Oh. Oh.” A flush darkened his green face. “That was you?” He coughed and stepped to the side. “Right, yes, of course. Go on ahead.”
“Thank you.” I walked around him and saw two doors. One was plain, unadorned. The other was covered with “Keep Out” signs. I started toward that one, but the orc called, “The other one is his bedroom.”
I paused, hand on the knob. “We fucked in the study too.”
“Right, sorry, of course.” And then a quieter, “Wow.”
I slipped inside before he could question my story.
The study was stark black, from the floor to the walls to the furniture.
Someone had even painted the ceiling. Dozens of books were scattered haphazardly through the room in bright spots of color.
The space was half-office, half-bedroom, with a massive desk directly in the middle and a large bed shoved into one corner.
A cloaked figure stood near the window. Shadows clung to them despite the bright sunlight streaming through the glass. As I slowly approached, they tilted their head to look over their shoulder. “Ah, Treasure. You’ve come at last.”
It wasn’t Wilde.
My heart pounded as I stared at the man. Long seconds passed before I choked out the word, “Father.”
“What? No, I’m—” The figure heaved a sigh and tugged the hood down, revealing a man in his sixties. “My name is Cyril Bowers, and I’ve been waiting here to speak with you about the Lord of Grimnight.”
Before he could say more, a familiar figure, dressed in unrelenting pink, popped up from behind the bed. “Trey!”
“Aunt Franny?”
“We’ve been so worried about you!” she rushed toward me, arms open for a hug.
Time reset before she reached me.
One Hour Earlier
Standing Below an Unstable Balcony
Rethinking the Plan
I was not fucking climbing that again.
I turned on my heel and walked toward the nearest door. The lacertian standing guard adjusted their spear and opened their mouth, probably to tell me to surrender, but I spoke first. “I’m Wilde’s boyfriend, I forgot my underwear here last night, I’m just gonna grab it and go.”
The lacertian blinked at me. “Who would believe that?”
Fuck, of course it couldn’t work a second time.
“By order of the Lord of Grimnight—”
I ducked beneath their spear and punched them in the groin, cutting off their sentences. The spear dropped to the ground so they could clutch their bruised bits. They wheezed out the last few, unintelligible words as they collapsed to their knees.
I picked the spear up and tossed it into the woods, so they’d have to chase after it once they recovered, then hurried inside.
A loud commotion had drawn most of the guards away, clearing a path for me right to the main stairs. The guard that should have been standing at the bottom was several feet away, craning his neck to see over a crowd.
I slipped past him and up the stairs, racing all the way to the top. When I saw the minion guarding the second flight, the one with the wistful expression, I pointed down the stairs and shouted, “Fight!”
He didn’t think to question my presence. Just clutched his halberd tightly and raced down the stairs.
The main flight of stairs was much easier to navigate, and I reached the third floor in half the time.
The orc at the end startled at my sudden appearance, but I already knew how to handle him. “Wilde’s boyfriend, forgot my underwear in the study, thanks, bye!” I threw the door open and slammed it shut before he could recover from his confusion.
Cyril hadn’t put his cloak back on and now Aunt Franny and another woman crowded around the desk.
“Trey, the ring!” Aunt Franny said, waving her hand through the air. “Put the ring on, quick!”
I slipped my hand into my pocket and pulled out one of the black rings from the envelope. “What will it—”
“Hurry, hurry, before he resets time again.”
I shoved it onto my ring finger.
Nothing happened.
Aunt Franny’s shoulders relaxed, and she approached to hug me again, murmuring my name as she squeezed me tightly. When she pulled away, her expression pinched with worry. “Is Delilah alright?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “She was a cat last time I saw her.”
She sighed. “Then I hope he keeps her safe.”
“What’s going on? Why are you here? Who are they?” I asked, gesturing toward the strangers in the room.
“Cyril Bowers,” the man introduced again, stepping forward to shake my hand. He gestured to the other woman with a fond smile. “And this is my wife—”
She grasped my hand in both of hers. “Lucy Merriweather.”
I blinked. “The writer?”
“The very same! We don’t have much time to explain.
” She looked thoughtful for a second before saying, “Or perhaps we have all the time in the world. Time is a little uncertain right now. The most important thing to know is that you need to keep this ring on. It’ll stop you from being affected by the magic. ”
I looked down at the black band on my hand and thought of its twin in my pocket. “What is it?”
“Anti-magic crystal,” Cyril explained. “Harvested from a void cave. It’s what we use to imprison mages, but it can also block magical effects.”
“Like time restarting.”
He nodded, then grimaced as he fiddled with a black pendant around his neck.
“Wilde’s power is strong and somewhat unpredictable, so I’ve had to wear it to prevent losing track of time.
” He looked deep into my eyes as he said the next part, “Unfortunately, I can’t use any magic while I’m wearing it. ”
I stared back at him, my heart pounding as my brain finally put together the pieces. “My father’s not the Lord of Grimnight anymore, is he?”
Before he could answer, a shudder went through all of us. The air became a frozen river, sluggishly flowing in the wrong direction.
Lucinda pulled out a pocket watch and murmured, “Oh no. He only set it back ten minutes.”
“He’s getting weaker,” Cyril confirmed. He grabbed my shoulder and ushered me to the door. “Find him before he burns the last embers of his magic. He’ll be in the throne room.”
He shoved me out the door.
The orc was no longer standing guard outside Wilde’s bedroom, called away by something else.
I raced down the stairs as fast as I could, my feet pounding out the same question over and over again: How do you defeat an evil mage?