Chapter 4
The guests were Clockfolk from all four courts.
Rich and powerful men and women dressed in clothes so beautiful they must have been made especially for them.
They wore jewelry, hats, glasses, and clocks on their person proudly, like they were indeed here for the sole purpose of showcasing their wealth.
It wasn’t all that difficult to smile and nod when they came to say hello, though. Especially since I wasn’t the only person here, and the others were just as uncomfortable as I was, at first. Both queens stayed with us at all times, too, until we made it to the very middle of the crowd.
Flowers everywhere, and the smell was incredible.
The farther the sun set, the brighter these big roses made of glass on the tabletops glowed.
I’d thought they were there for decoration only, but no.
They glowed from within with the most beautiful white light that could have very well been trapped magic.
“And now, perhaps the most important part of this event,” said the White Queen suddenly and raised her hand at someone in the crowd, but I didn’t see who.
I drank another mouthful of the rosewater we’d been served before putting it down on the tray of the waiter who’d come to take our glasses.
Delicious—and not only had I been thirstier than I thought, but it had helped to have something to do when other people spoke to us and looked at us with those wide, hopeful, glistening eyes.
The sky was almost completely dark, the glass roses atop the tables now proper lamps, and the queens looked even more ethereal than they had in daylight.
Especially when they stopped in front of a cocktail table that someone had emptied completely, and then a soldier wrapped up in silver armor came from the other side and put a box on top of it.
A wooden case almost the size of the tabletop.
With a bow, he moved away, and the queens both pulled the lid open together.
I rose on my tiptoes to see what was inside but it was impossible—too dark, and we were at least four feet away. Calren had made it back, too—alone—and he stood behind us with the crowd, eyes on the queens, his lips naturally curved upward so he always looked like he was smiling.
“Gather ‘round, everyone! Gather ‘round,” the White Queen sang in that cheerful voice, waving for the guests to come closer. “The Turning Trials wouldn’t be the Turning Trials without this very special gift to all its Hands, would it?”
Giggling, she reached for the inside of the case, and pulled out…a clock.
It was a clock.
No—it was the clock.
“Your Life Clocks, my little tickers!” the queen announced, like this was the best thing she’d ever said in her life.
“Full of Sparetime for you to use, and to track your wins and losses throughout the trials. A very special clock, unlike any other in the realm. Our Timekeepers have made them just for you, in perfect sync with the Labyrinth.” She full-on laughed now, a purely happy laugh.
“Come now—you first!”
The queen was looking at Russ, the Diamond boy standing first in line. Without hesitation and with a wondrous smile on his long face, he went closer, eyes on the clock that the queen held up by its golden chain for all to see.
And all were looking—every single guest of this party was standing in a circle around us, not even whispering in one another’s ear for once.
“Russell—am I right?” Russ nodded as red exploded on his cheeks.
“This belongs to you now. Keep it with you at all times, even when you sleep. It’s vital that you do not go anywhere without it, little ticker,” the queen said with a wink that turned Russ’s face a deeper red instantly.
“It really is the most special chronobank that exists in our realm. Take care of it like your time truly depends on it—because it does.”
She laughed again. The Red Queen didn’t join, only watched Russ intently as he tied the golden chain of his new clock to the front pocket of his jacket.
“Thank you, Your Excellencies. I will,” the Diamond boy mumbled and went back to his place almost drunkenly, his unblinking eyes downward.
The Diamond girl—Anika—was next. While she went to the queens, we all leaned closer to see Russ’s Life Clock better.
It was indeed special.
To do magic, one needed time. Seconds and minutes for most things, and hours for much bigger magics.
But instead of spending the time of our own bodies, our own lives, we used chronobanks since creation—these special clocks that Timekeepers built to access a source of time other than our own when doing magic.
That other source was the diamonds inside the chronobanks, crystals full of the Sparetime that the Diamond folk harvested from the air, compressed it, and prepared it for use.
Such a curious thing.
I always wanted to know how they did it. We didn’t learn much about the harvesting process, mainly because we couldn’t actually do it if we tried. It required a special kind of magic that only the Diamonds possessed to compress Sparetime.
In its original form, Sparetime was this shimmery silver dust in the air—time that the world naturally shed.
A natural waste-product of existence. The unused time that simply hung in the air, and it could be very dangerous if left unharvested.
It could ruin the world all on its own, in fact.
Which was why harvesting it and compressing it into crystals to then use in our chronobanks was so important.
The Heart boy stepped in front of the queens to get his Life Clock next, pulling me back into the present.
March was his name, and my heart seemed to be cheering with every step he took for whatever reason.
He was tall, over six feet, with wide shoulders and narrow hips, and his every movement was precise, certain.
His confidence had a flavor I couldn’t really name but had already become addicted to.
When he took his Life Clock from the White Queen and turned back to take his place, his eyes were on me. Always on me.
Red on my cheeks. I could paint the whole sky with it.
Time glitched and passed too fast while I tried to keep myself in check, to stop the smile from spreading all over my face for unknown reasons, to stop my heart from galloping so fast in my chest. There’s nowhere to go—be still! I told her.
And then it was my turn.
I don’t much remember the details of walking over to the White Queen because a part of me was still seven-hours certain that I was in a dream, and too many details just didn’t matter.
But I saw the big brown eyes of the woman, smelled the scent of roses in the air that intensified in her proximity, felt the attention of the Red Queen on me as well.
Then the White Queen moved her icy lips, spoke words that reached me a moment too late, before the weight of the Life Clock fell on the palms of my hands: I wish you good-timing, little ticker!
The clock clicked once—I heard that with clarity. It clicked in perfect rhythm with my heartbeat, and I knew it was mine the same way I knew my limbs belonged to me.
A special thing, that chronobank, and if my eyes were telling me the truth, it had thirty minutes’ worth of Sparetime inside it.
Two faces, one within the other. The smaller one told time like a normal twelve-hour clock, and the bigger counted numbers up to a hundred.
Four hands (three for hours and minutes and seconds), and the biggest that told the amount of Sparetime the clock contained was undoubtedly pointing at thirty—I triple-checked.
Thirty minutes.
The most I’d ever seen on my parents’ chronobanks was twenty, and even that was rare.
One could do a lot of magic with all those minutes.
People usually bought their first chronobank when they began the School of Magic after they were of age, so I’d never had one before.
I’d just turned eighteen a couple of months ago, and wasn’t due to start learning magic till September—but never in my wildest dreams did I consider my first chronobank to contain thirty whole minutes.
And the queens were just giving it to me. Just like that. They expected nothing in return but to play a bunch of games and make more Sparetime for the Labyrinth to multiply, so that the Diamonds could then harvest it.
Curious, indeed.
Before I knew it, I was back in my place.
Silas was the last to go to the White Queen to claim his Life Clock, his shoulders rigid, his hands fisted tightly before he reached for it.
If I were to guess, I’d say he was more uncomfortable than most, which wasn’t a surprise.
If I were to agree that this indeed was reality, I feared I would fare much worse than that—but I didn’t.
I held onto the possibility that I was still swimming deep inside a dream.
“How wonderful!” the White Queen exclaimed when Silas returned to my side, and the crowd all around us erupted in a deafening applause. The queens joined in, too, and I felt giddy all over again.
So many people cheering for me, when I wasn’t all that important. In fact, I wasn’t important at all.
But maybe I was about to be?
“Congratulations, congratulations, my little tickers!”
The others were shaking hands with one another, too, and Cook turned to shake my hand, then I turned to shake Silas’s. He looked down at it, and at the Life Clock in his other hand like they were snakes coming to bite his head off—before he finally shook it.
“Silas,” I whispered, half a smile on my face, uncertain. “You look a bit pale. Are you all right?”
When he met my eyes, it was like he just woke up. I saw the split second he realized where he was and who I was clearly reflecting on his face—and then he smiled. Straightened his shoulders. Put the Life Clock in the pocket of his trousers.
“Of course, beautiful Ora. Only a little too excited.” Which I understood very well.
“I am, too. We all are,” I promised him. “We’re in this together.”