Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Darius
Excruciating pain ripped through my side.
I looked down. An arrow jutted from my ribs, blood soaking through my shirt. I thought I was faster. I was wrong.
But then I noticed the silence.
No shouts. No footsteps. No arrows whistling through the air.
I tried to turn. Agony flared through my torso, stealing my breath. My vision blurred at the edges. I gritted my teeth and forced my body to move, one agonizing inch at a time.
What I saw made me forget the pain.
A dozen arrows hung frozen in midair, inches from where I stood. The soldiers had stopped mid-charge, mouths open, swords raised—statues caught in time.
Even the campfire beside us had stilled. Flames frozen like orange glass.
What the hell?
Caterpillar knelt on the ground where they’d been holding him, his bruised face slack with shock. “Curious…most curious.”
My gaze shot to the trees. To the branch ten stories up where I’d left Alice.
She stood with one hand stretched toward the clearing, her face pale with disbelief. Her head turned toward me, eyes wide with shock.
She did this. She didn’t even know she could. Hell, I didn’t think she could do this.
I grabbed Caterpillar’s arm and hauled him to his feet. The arrow shifted in my side, and I bit back a scream. “We have to move. Her magic is unstable—this could end any second.”
"Who…is…she?" The words came slow, deliberate.
"Alice. No time to explain."
He tilted his head, studying me through half-lidded eyes, lingering on the blood spreading across my shirt. Then his gaze drifted to the arrow jutting from my side. "You…shouldn't fly…with that."
“Don’t have a choice.” I wrapped my arm around his waist and launched into the air.
The movement drove the arrow deeper. White-hot agony tore through me. My vision blurred. I nearly dropped him.
My wings faltered. We dipped toward the frozen soldiers below.
I couldn’t do this. Not with an arrow buried in my ribs.
Pain ripped through me—deeper, sharper. Black spots danced across my vision.
My wings gave out.
The ground rushed up to meet us. I hit hard, knees first, the impact driving the arrow deeper. I couldn’t hold back the scream.
Caterpillar spilled from my arms, rolling across the dirt.
I panted, each breath a knife in my ribs. “I’m... I’m sorry.”
Caterpillar rolled onto his knees, then staggered upright. His cuffed hands made it awkward, but he managed. He looked down at me with infuriating calm.
“Sorry?” He exhaled slowly. “An interesting word. Are you sorry for dropping me, or sorry for the arrow in your side?”
“The bindings—” I gasped. “I need to break your bindings.”
“Yes. That would be…helpful.” He turned, presenting his cuffed wrists. “Do try not to remove my hands. I’m rather attached to them.”
I unsheathed my sword, hands shaking. “Can you move your arms back further?”
“The question is not whether I can.” He shifted his wrists. “The question is whether you believe you can make the cut.”
I gritted my teeth. Even now—bleeding, half-dead, surrounded by frozen soldiers—he couldn’t just give a straight answer.
“I don’t have time for riddles, Caterpillar.”
“You have exactly as much time as you choose to take.” His voice was steady, unhurried—as if we weren’t surrounded by frozen soldiers and running out of time. “Now, do you believe?”
I wanted to strangle him. Instead, I steadied my blade and swung.
The chains fell away.
My legs collapsed, and my sword fell to my side.
“Your arm.” Caterpillar’s voice was slow, measured. “Around my shoulders. If you wish to remain upright.”
I nodded, fighting the darkness creeping at the edges of my vision. “I have to get Alice. I left her on a branch. High up in a tree.” I draped my arm over his shoulder, leaning into him. “She can’t get down by herself.”
“Ah.” He began to move, each step deliberate. “And you intend to... fly to her rescue?”
“Yes.”
“Fascinating.” A long pause. “You cannot fly.”
“I can move faster than this.” The words came out through gritted teeth.
“Can you?” He tilted his head, utterly unruffled. “You are swaying. Your skin is the color of ash. You are, I believe, moments from unconsciousness.”
“I’m fine.”
“You are dying.” He said it like it was the answer to a riddle I hadn't asked. “That arrow. It will kill you. Not today, perhaps. But soon. You are not immortal, Hatter. None of us are.”
I didn’t answer. Maybe he was right. Probably he was right.
But every second we wasted, Alice sat stranded on that branch. Alone. Defenseless. And when the freeze broke—when the soldiers unfroze and Ari realized what had happened…
They would find her.
I couldn’t let that happen.
“Move faster,” I growled.
“Impatience.” He sighed. “The refuge of those who cannot accept what is.”
I ignored him. Pushed off his shoulder and ran—or tried to.
Three steps. The world tilted. My legs buckled.
I hit the ground hard, the arrow shifting, a scream of pain ripping through my side.
Alice. I had to get to Alice.
But the darkness swallowed me whole.
I clawed my way out of the darkness, gasping.
Pain—ruthless and relentless—ripped through my side. The arrow. Still there. Still killing me.
Beads of sweat rolled down my temples. “Alice.” Her name came out ragged, desperate. “Alice.”
Cool fingers wrapped around my clammy hand.
“I’m here.” Her face swam into focus above me—pale, worried, but whole. “I’m fine. I’m right here.”
Despite the pain, the relief nearly pulled me back under. She was safe. She was alive.
“How did you get down? I couldn’t get you. I tried—”
“Shh.” She squeezed my hand. “Isn’t it obvious? I climbed down.” A small smile tugged at her lips. “I’ve got the bruises and scratches to prove it.”
Climbed down. Ten stories. In the dark. While soldiers swarmed below.
She was more resourceful than I’d given her credit for. Braver too.
I’d left her stranded up there, certain she was helpless. And she’d saved herself.
“I’m sorry.” The words scraped out of me. “I should never have left you.”
“You seem to be apologizing a lot.”
“I don’t apologize to just anyone.”
Our eyes met. Something flickered between us—fragile and unnamed.
But then another sharp pain hit me. I forced my eyes to focus, scanning the trees. Nothing looked familiar.
“Where are we?”
Caterpillar crouched by a small fire, poking it lazily with a stick. “Where are we?” he repeated, as if savoring the question. “We are... precisely where we need to be. And nowhere at all.”
I bit back a groan—whether from the pain or his riddles, I wasn't sure. I squeezed her hand. “What about the queen’s men?”
“They are where they are supposed to be,” Caterpillar said.
“Which is where?”
Gold eyes flashed over Alice’s head, followed by a broad, impossible grin.
My heart stuttered.
Chester. His body materialized piece by piece—first the grin, then the eyes, then the rest of him, lounging against a tree like he hadn’t a care in the world.
“Behind us,” he said.
Something cracked in my chest. Relief. Gratitude. The sting of tears I refused to let fall.
“Chester.” His name came out rough, broken. “They didn’t capture you.”
After Flint and Steel—after watching Ari drag them away—I’d feared the worst. That the queen had taken everyone. That I’d lost them all.
But he was here. Grinning like a fool. Alive.
“It’s hard to capture what you can’t see,” Chester said, his smile widening.
I wanted to laugh. I wanted to weep. The pain in my side wouldn’t let me do either.
His grin widened. “But Caterpillar says Alice can stop time. That’s what happened to the soldiers and gave Caterpillar time to carry you away and Alice time to climb down the tree.”
Stop time.
I stared at her. This woman—this witch who claimed she couldn’t control her magic, who’d heard a voice from a magical mirror, who’d been kicked around by her coven—had frozen a troop of soldiers in place.
Arrows hung midair. Soldiers turned to statues. Time itself had bent to her will.
I’d left her stranded on that branch, convinced she was helpless. Convinced she’d only slow me down. I’d treated her like a liability when she was anything but.
I’d underestimated her. Badly.
“Alice.” I cleared my parched throat. “You saved us.”
She shook her head, refusing to meet my eyes. “I don’t know what I did.”
“You stopped time.” I reached for her hand. “That’s not unstable magic. That’s power. Real power.”
“It’s not just that.” Alice lowered her head. “Something happened with my bracelet.”
I glanced at her bracelet. It looked ordinary enough—two delicate gold strands wound together. Nothing that screamed magic.
“When I came to the Elder Dimension, I only had one strand. A second strand formed after I stopped time. It never happened in my world.”
I studied the bracelet again, trying to see what she saw. The bracelet had changed. Her magic had worked without breaking her apart. And she still couldn’t let herself believe it.
“Alice—”
Caterpillar exhaled a lazy curl of smoke. “You don’t know... what happened.” He let the words hang in the air. “And yet... it happened. Curious, is it not? That one can do a thing without knowing the doing of it?”
I squeezed her hand. “He’s right. You didn’t have to understand it for it to be real. Your magic protected us, Alice. Whether you’re ready to believe that or not.”
Alice shifted uncomfortably. “It wasn’t me. It couldn’t have been.”
“Couldn’t?” One eyebrow arched slowly. “Or shouldn’t?” He poked the fire again. “You stopped arrows mid-flight. You froze soldiers where they stood. You held time itself in your palm.” A long pause. “And you say you don’t know what happened.”
“I didn’t mean to—”
“Intent.” He waved a hand dismissively. “Such a small word for such a large thing. The question is not whether you meant to, child. The question is... can you do it again?”
“I told you I didn’t do it.” Alice gritted her teeth.
Denial. I recognized it. Sometimes the truth about yourself was harder to swallow than any lie.
I brushed my thumb over her palm. “Then how do you explain it?”
She avoided my gaze and looked into the woods as if there was an answer hidden there. “I can’t.”
“If you’re wondering about our heading,” Chester said, “we’re heading to the Nowhere Grotto. Less than three miles away.” His body disappeared, leaving only his grin floating in the darkness. “The others are waiting for us.”
“The Uncrowned Seven?” Finally, some good news. Hopefully Doc was at camp. If we didn’t get there soon, I’d pass out. I couldn’t put everyone in danger because of me.
Chester’s body reappeared. “Some were out on patrol when I left. Grump wants the rebellion to meet again. Rabbit is planning to arrive with news in two days.”
I opened my mouth to answer, but a wave of agony ripped through me. I gritted my teeth, waiting for it to pass.
“Darius?” Alice’s hand tightened on mine.
“The rightful heirs...” I forced the words out between ragged breaths. “To the Whitveil crown.” Another spike of pain. Black spots danced at the edges of my vision. “Cormac invaded... stole everything.”
“You’re trying to restore it,” Alice said softly.
I managed a nod. Speaking was becoming harder. Breathing was becoming harder. The arrow shifted with every movement, every word, sending fresh fire through my ribs.
“Stop talking.” Alice’s voice shook. “Save your strength.”
The ground began to rumble beneath me, each vibration jolting the arrow, sending fresh waves of agony through my side.
Hoofbeats. Dozens of them. Maybe more.
I couldn't face whatever was coming flat on my back.
I tried to push myself up. Failed. The pain drove me back down.
“Chester.” I gritted my teeth. “They’re coming.”
Alice spun around, eyes wide, scanning the dark trees. “What’s wrong? What’s that noise?”
The rumbling grew louder. Closer. The earth itself seemed to tremble.
My hand fumbled for my weapon. Too slow. Too weak. I couldn't even stand, let alone fight.
Caterpillar rose slowly—too slowly—and unsheathed his sword with an air of resigned calm. Chester’s grin vanished. For once, his whole face looked deadly serious.
“The queen’s army,” Chester said, looking down at me.
I tried again to stand. My arms gave out. Useless. I was useless.
“How many?” Alice’s voice pitched higher.
Chester cocked his head, listening. “Too many.”
Panic flashed across Alice’s face. She looked at me—bleeding, broken, unable to move—then back at the trees where torchlight was beginning to flicker through the branches.
“We have to run,” she whispered.
I couldn’t run. I couldn’t even stand.
And we all knew it.