Chapter 14
Fourteen
LUCERNE
Lucerne in daylight was fascinating. A thick carpet of snow from the previous night’s fall layered over everything, giving the landscape an almost ethereal glow.
From the view outside my chamber windows, sunlight caught on rooftops and the slow-turning arms of distant mechanical towers.
A great steam elevator glimmered far across the way—a platform of lattice iron that raised supply caravans from the base of a mountain, hissing and trembling as it vented pressure.
A dome of glass and gimbaled brass rotated with slow precision while great pistons beneath it hammered a steady, rhythmic cadence.
A consistent stream of fog rippled down the cliffside to meld with the bank of clouds forming the endless sky.
A soft knock came at my door, swinging open, followed by the rustle of skirts as efficient attendants entered, carrying silks, ribbons, and the faint scent of violets and lilacs.
“Courtesy of the princess,” I was told.
Stunned, I blinked. I wasn’t well-versed in the lineages of all the kingdoms on Wünder. And given our frosty greeting from the prince, it was surprising to be provided for by another member of the royal house.
Before I could properly protest, I was guided toward the dressing screen as though this had always been the plan. The maids worked around me with practiced ease. It seemed only moments before they finished fussing over me and left.
Still trying to regain my bearings, I looked down at myself. I smoothed over the lush fabric with my hands in wonder. Delighted to find pockets in the new dress, I grabbed my lab coat to retrieve my usual things.
Walking to the door, I caught my reflection in the mirror and couldn’t help a pleased smile.
Under a thick fur cloak, layers of soft, deep forest green silk composed my outfit, embroidered with fine thread that curled in elegant, vine-like patterns across the fabric. The dress fit around me with delicate precision while the sleeves fell in sheer, whisper-thin layers that brushed my skin.
I turned my head. The emerald clip was back in my hair, its color coincidentally an exact match to the dress, its stone gleaming against the pale strands of my hair.
Ball gowns aside, I had never seen myself in such a luxurious outfit. Not that I could remember anyway. Had I ever worn anything like this in my real life? Was my own world anything like Wünder at all?
Even if I’d never liked dresses in the past, their mere craftsmanship and ingenuity truly fascinated me. Perhaps I would miss these things once I had found my way home.
The stone floor trembled beneath my feet.
What…?
Then it came again—the second time more forcefully, and I had to brace my hand against the doorway so I wouldn’t tip over.
Creaking stone and urgent shouts layered over the crashing of boulders.
My pulse began to race as I bolted out the door.
What was happening now?
I almost tripped over my feet as I skidded to a stop beside a hallway of arches. Looking across the way, I blinked in confusion. Then I blinked again.
I didn’t understand what I was seeing—no, that wasn’t true. I understood it enough to know it shouldn’t exist.
Not like smoke, not like mist—something heavier. Great translucent spheres bloomed into existence, as though reality was being forced outward from some unseen pressure. Shimmering with an iridescent sheen and bending the light, they warped everything they touched.
My breath caught because the nearest one was not in the courtyard right before me—it was through it.
Through the stone. Through the towers.
Through everything.
A sphere five times the size of a coach intersected the spire of the tower in the adjacent structure to my right.
I stood frozen, transfixed, as the tower didn’t crumble.
Instead, the bricks stretched, elongated, fractured into impossible angles where they met the sphere’s edge.
Inside the sphere, the world shifted—the same tower spinning in seasons, skimming destruction and rebuilds, days and nights, all sped up and slowed to a slurry at the same time.
The light bent like liquid across surfaces, reflecting a thousand fractured versions of the kingdom, each one slightly off, slightly wrong—developing into a slow sucking spiral.
Another eerily familiar sensation tugged at my chest, prickling the back of my neck. It was highly unlikely I had seen something like this before. But had I?
Caught between terror and awe, I couldn’t help my sudden notion. What was happening was deeply, unforgivably wrong, of course. But…it was also terrifyingly beautiful.
The floor beneath my feet rippled where another sphere cut right into the courtyard floor, cobblestones lifting and sinking in slow, unnatural waves. The building was crumbling. The whole structure was about to give way under me.
Snapping to attention, I fought against the sheer overwhelming fear rooting me in place. I pushed off and ran down the hall, down the stairs, and out the door—colliding squarely with a firm chest.
Gasping, I looked up.
The king’s hands braced firmly on my arms, his prompt urgent, even as his eyes tracked whatever was happening around us. “Are you injured?”
“No.”
Grabbing my hand, he turned to bolt across the courtyard littered with debris, pulling me in his wake.
Castle staff, soldiers, and maids scattered in blind panic around us, scrambling for cover as walls split and buildings crumbled. It was impossible to tell if anyone had been swallowed by falling debris or lost in the choking dust.
The blond prince all but flew out of an edifice across the way, fury burning in his eyes as he charged to meet us halfway down the courtyard.
His temple was already bleeding. His clothes ripped.
His growl of accusation dripped with pure venom as we stopped short before him.
“Just what in the fresh tides do you think you are doing?”
Before anyone could respond, more spheres appeared, blooming across the kingdom above us, overlapping, intersecting, swallowing sections of parapets where archers stumbled back in panicked yells, their forms splitting and doubling where the distortion touched them.
Another cut into the great, glimmering steam elevator that was built into the mountain. Shrieks accompanied the creaking and crumbling of stone and metal. A massive chunk of the ridge cliff had collapsed.
“There’s people up there!” I cried out, but I knew there was nothing I could do. The mountain itself was collapsing.
The king tugged on my hand again. We raced down the courtyard and through alleys, Gregory barking out instructions to soldiers we passed for them to evacuate the affected structures, to coordinate the rescuers, to salvage what they could.
Fists clenched, Gregory whirled back around, his face red with rage. “You assured me that you wouldn’t bring your manner of hell to my kingdom. I guess I should have known better than to trust a tyrant king.”
The king’s indignation was thick. “I didn’t do this.”
“Like hell!” Gregory spat.
The king’s hand gripped mine tighter.
I met his steel-blue gaze.
“I swear to god, Allie. I’m not doing this.”
My heart pounded in my chest.
Another sphere pulsed into existence through the inner wall right above us, cutting clean through a line of iron cannons, and for a heartbeat, they existed in two places at once—solid and distorted, present and elsewhere—stretched, bent, halting mid-motion like glass sculptures before collapsing seconds later.
No.
This wasn’t an attack.
This was something worse.
My heart thumped in recognition.
This phenomenon was similar to the anomaly that contaminated the River of Tears. Similar to the working principles that underlay the fantastic machine we’d used to cross to this side of Wünder.
I narrowed my eyes.
Gregory looked enraged but was obviously as baffled as anyone by what was happening. He didn’t know about the machine. He had nothing to do with the anomaly at the River of Tears. If someone at Lucerne had used the machine to coordinate my capture or kidnapping, it wasn’t his doing.
Furthermore, it likely meant that he was in danger too.
Struck with a fresh wave of motivation, I caught Gregory’s arm. “We need to find shelter, Your Highness, please.”
He forcibly shrugged me off. “Don’t you dare—”
Out of the corner of my eye, a shattered precipice tore free from the tower above us, plummeting in a deadly cascade of stone. My eyes widened as I calculated that its trajectory would bring it straight on top of the prince.
Without thinking, I hurled myself forward, slamming into Gregory’s chest to drive him aside. He choked out a yelp, staggering to the ground as the precipice’s shadow swallowed us—the falling stone coming down an instant from crushing us both.
“ALLIE!” The king’s booming voice was a storm of its own, the torrential force of his magic coming alive with a thunderclap of crackling energy.
I had no sooner squeezed my eyes shut to brace for the impact of the falling rocks when a thunderous clatter burst overhead—before a fine mist of pulverized stone rained over us like sand.
I coughed amidst the dust.
That was close.
Still breathless, I pushed myself up from Gregory’s chest. My ears were still ringing as I met his slate-gray eyes—wide, stunned, awed. “Your Highness.” I tried to pull away, but his hand caught my arm, firm and instinctive.
Gregory’s attention was pinned on me. It was almost as if he were seeing me for the first time.
Panting, he let his gaze rove over my face.
His mouth opened as if he wanted to say something.
No doubt, he couldn’t comprehend the Wicked King’s sorceress witch risking her life to save an enemy of the crown.
I couldn’t stop the heat rushing to my cheeks under the weight of his prolonged stare.
A fresh burst of familiar shadows coiled dense around my waist. I squeaked as my body was hauled upright, snapping me back and away from Gregory—tugging me over to stand stiffly beside the livid king, who was all but growling beneath his dark cloud aura.
I shot him a questioning look.
His jaw was visibly set, his expression hard, but he wouldn’t meet my gaze.
“Brother!”
We all turned toward the voice.
A blonde, young woman hurried toward the courtyard, moving with effortless grace.
Her pale hair caught the light like spun gold, almost surreal.
Under a thick cape, she wore a dress of white lace so fine it could have been woven from frost and air, shimmering faintly with tiny, near-invisible beadwork, with sleeves trailing like clouds at her wrists.
“Sophie.” Gregory’s hoarse sigh of relief was barely audible as he struggled to straighten up. “Get back inside.”
Ignoring his plea, Sophie hastened closer, dropping to his side. She braced her arm around his back to help him up. He, in turn, threw a protective arm around her shoulders.
My gaze darted all around, wary of whatever looming threats remained.
But everything had stopped. Every sound was extinguished, every movement stilled. The spheres had all disappeared. Somehow, the madness had stopped—for now.
The chaos that surrounded us mere moments ago only leaving behind a vast, unnatural silence, the raw evidence of the disaster, the ruined buildings, collapsed spires, stone, and debris that remained scattered around us. Across the way, soldiers were tending to the injured or fallen.
“You’re bleeding.” Sophie lifted a delicate hand and laid it on her brother’s temple. There was a brief, bright glow, and the wound on Gregory’s forehead stitched up, his injury all but erased.
My eyes widened.
The princess was a healer.
“Is it over?” Sophie’s gaze tracked upward. “Whatever in the world just happened?”
Gregory dusted off his clothes. “I don’t know.
” He glanced up as if to confirm that the sky was no longer falling.
With a wave of his hand, several valets hurried over to receive instructions.
“We need a full report on the damage. Send some men to the steam generators. Make sure anyone who requires help has it. Inspect every landslip, every structure—”
With her brother preoccupied, Sophie took a step closer to us, her hands linked behind her back. “I was told of your arrival last night. I’d been so hoping to meet you.” With a delicate smile, she lowered her head ever so slightly. “Welcome to Lucerne.”