Chapter 25 #3
The next pulse came with a warning from Master Talik, who was the only one in this metal ribcage not panicking—and then the next, and the next…
By the tenth pulse, I stopped screaming.
By the twentieth, my hands had gone numb around the bar I’d gripped, and I couldn’t feel March’s fingers in mine anymore at all, though I could see them there. By the thirtieth, Mimi had thrown up twice and Cook was laughing—actually laughing—in a way that sounded completely unhinged.
Meanwhile, I wanted to burst out in tears, but there simply wasn’t any time.
Then it stopped.
I wasn’t sure exactly how many pulses we lived through, but at last, the runner slowed. The amber glow faded from the walls, and the silence that followed was so complete I could hear my own heartbeat in my skull—fast, erratic, as if she were furious at me for having put myself through all of that.
Then Master Talik said, “Everybody out. Quickly, before the next cycle.”
The way we jumped. The way we moved—fast, regardless of the fact that our bodies were numb.
Following the Timekeeper’s movements, we crawled out of the runner on our hands and knees and onto this platform made of rusted metal that rattled under our weight like there was a sudden earthquake.
Master Talik then continued straight ahead like he hadn’t felt the effect of those pulses at all, through a doorway carved out of stone just ahead, and up a ladder that sounded like it was barely hanging on for dear life.
All the while, he whispered, quickly, quickly, we have to get out of here, quickly, adding even more terror and stress to our exhausted bodies.
I don’t know how I kept moving, but then fresh air filled my lungs and there was an open sky over me, and grass underneath my feet, and my body let go.
I fell to the side and lay on the grass together with everybody else—except Master Talik—and I didn’t move at all for a good few minutes, only breathed deeply.
Over. It was over.
The sky over us was pale blue, and the sun was warm, and the world was not moving at a million feet a second, and I was so, so grateful I wanted to cry tears of joy.
Not Mimi, though. She was on all fours beside me, dry heaving.
On her other side was Seth, flat on his back with his arms spread wide, staring at the sky, smiling.
And beyond him, Levana and Cook sat next to each other, their heads between their knees.
The others were moving to stand, and March already had when he offered me his hand.
His face was pale, green almost, but he was standing and his eyes were perfectly alert.
I took his hand and he pulled me to my feet with ease, asking, “You okay?”
I flinched. “Define okay.”
The corners of his lips turned up slightly. “Alive and not throwing up.”
“Then yes,” I said with a nod. “Barely.” But I was feeling better by the minute.
Then Mimi raised her head and said, “I am never-ever-reven getting on that thing, ever again.”
Master Talik shrugged. “The return trip is faster.”
The return trip.
Now I was really going to be sick…
“I’d rather just walk,” said Russ from where he lay the ground.
“Let’s see if we survive this first, shall we?” Master Talik said, and I could have sworn he rolled his eyes a little, too. “Welcome to the Court of Hearts.”
My mind went blank for a tick when realization hit me—the runner had actually brought us where we needed to go. We were here already.
Holy Hour, I was in the actual Court of Hearts.
It spread out before us beyond a line of low hills. My mouth opened, but all the words died on my lips as I took in everything around us.
Red—that was the first thing to see. Red everywhere.
The buildings were made of pale stone, a lot like back home, but here every surface was touched with crimson.
Red shutters on the windows, red doors, red awnings over shopfronts, red banners hanging from balconies, flower boxes overflowing with red roses—red, red, red.
The streets were wider than back home, though cobbled and swept clean.
They’d painted the trees lining them here, too—the trunks were white, the leaves a deep burgundy.
Lanterns hung from wrought-iron posts, their glass shades tinted rose so that even in daylight, the streets were glowing with this gorgeous blushing light.
But my eyes went back to the buildings again. Time’s Teeth, they were so beautiful—three stories, four stories, five, with carved facades and arched windows and balconies draped with flowering vines. Heart-shaped knockers on the doors and silk curtains behind every window.
Nothing here was plain or simple. They’d been right all along when they said the Court of Hearts was fancy. Even the gutters were decorative!
“This is where you’re from?” Mimi whispered to March, and the wonder in her voice matched the one inside me.
March didn’t answer right away. He was standing very still, his eyes moving over the street ahead of us, over the buildings and the trees and the red doors and the roses like he was searching for something…
“Yes,” he finally said. “This is home.”