Chapter 40 #2
“Our dearest Hands have come so far, and now we’re at the finish line—almost there!
” he shouted and it was all I could do not to cover my ears as the crowd threw their fists in the air and cheered.
“To get there, though, they will have to push time in a…different way. They’ll have to make it, if you will.
It’s an easy recipe, I’m told, but only they will know for sure. ”
Breathe, breathe, breathe, I told myself in my mind, stared ahead at the dark forest waiting for us, and behind at the crowd, at the queens standing there in their box, watching.
“To the Hands, I say, be mindful of what you add. Some things rise in certain conditions. Find them—or time will answer with teeth.” Laughter. Screams and cheers.
Those people definitely didn’t know what went on in the trials, and I had half a mind to run to them, to shout, to tell them that nothing in there was what it seemed. To tell them exactly what winning these games required—but would I be able to if I tried?
What would Calren do?
What would the queens say?
Better yet—all those soldiers covered in silver armor standing at the edges of the seats, would they run for me and take sure to keep my mouth shut?
Then the images on the large screens changed. I wasn’t sure exactly what they were made of, or how projection really worked, only that it was called casting, and casters could use these specific devices to project what they saw onto large surfaces—like those screens.
Right now, they were projecting us. Our faces.
Time’s Teeth, we looked even worse from afar than I expected.
“Now, we will be calling in our friend, Mister Luce, for our picture. We want to remember this very important moment, don’t we? The Labyrinth will want to remember, too!”
A moment later, we saw the man coming from around the palace building, carrying a light-catcher on a tripod as he limped his way toward us little by little.
I’d never seen the man before, but he was a Timekeeper.
A woman had taken our picture that first night in The Ever, when life was infinitely simpler and I was whole, but this guy was different.
More stern looking. The soldiers made way for him to pass but never once took their eyes off him.
We exchanged a look with the others, and I knew what they were thinking—the wall. The wall in the lounge room full of pictures of the Hands of the former Turning Trials. Holy Hour, we’d thought most of those boys and girls had looked sad and terrified in the beginning.
Now we knew exactly why.
It felt like ages as we waited for Mister Luce to come in front of us and lay down his tripod.
He was a short man with a long, orange beard that touched his chest, and wide blue eyes that were kind.
He smiled at Calren, and Calren smiled back as he stood to the side and held onto his cane with both hands.
I kept wanting to ask him why he kept that thing around when he obviously could walk just fine, but it always slipped my mind.
Not that it mattered.
“All right, folk. It’s simple. Painless. You’ve all had your photograph taken before. Just look here into this lens.” Mister Luce stepped to the side and pointed at the round lens of his wooden light-catcher.
None of us said anything, though. We just stood there in line and looked at the lens.
“If you can…” Mister Luce moved his hands to tell us to gather closer to one another, and we did. As if we were hypnotized, we moved closer inch by little inch, until we were standing right next to one another, shoulders touching.
“Perfect. Now, don’t move,” the Timekeeper said, and pressed buttons over the light-catcher, made sure it was secure on the long legs of the tripod.
“And try to smile a little, will you?” I swallowed hard, threw a glance at the others.
They were trying to smile, at least a few of them, but I didn’t bother.
There was absolutely nothing to smile about standing here. “All right, then. Three, two…one.”
A flashing light.
“Perfect,” the Timekeeper muttered, and nodded at Calren. “All done.”
“Thank you, Mister Luce,” Calren said, his smile easy.
Then the Timekeeper grabbed his light-catcher and limped his way back where he came from, while the rest of us watched.
Tears pricked the backs of my eyes.
“All done,” said the annoying voice of the speaker.
“Now is the time, dearest Hands. Now is the final round of a long game, a chance for you to show your bravery, your intellect, a chance for you to become famous, rich, to give your lives a completely different trajectory. We do so hope you make us proud.”
I bit my tongue. Blinked my eyes. Focused on the forest ahead—it’s just a forest! I’d spent my whole life in forests darker than this, hadn’t I?
“And most importantly—entertain us!”
The crowd cheered.
Calren nodded. “Good-timing to all of you,” he said, and I only read the words on his lips. Couldn’t hear his voice.
March’s hand was around mine, and the next moment, we were walking ahead. All of us together, putting one foot after the other, going into that forest, trying to pretend we didn’t want to be running in the opposite direction.
Johnny spoke again. “One last thing, if I may ask, dearest Hands. Say hi to the host for us!”
I took in a deep breath and squeezed March’s hand, reminded myself that he was right there. We all were. Nothing bad was going to happen, no matter what it felt like. We were going to get to the other side of this trial one way or the other—and then we’d finally be free.