CHAPTER SEVEN

Because I Could Not Stop for Death

Everyone waited eagerly for me to continue. Everyone except Malcolm, who probably assumed I was going to say something he’d heard before. He leaned his head on his hand and regarded me wearily.

I ignored him and pointed at Melody. “You said the spell is channeled through the clock in the ballroom, right?”

“Yyyes.” She was hesitant, as if worried I was somehow going to trap her.

“Then that’s the solution!”

“Nick,” said Kanin, “if you’re suggesting we destroy the clock, that’s a bad idea. Time’s already in a sorry state; we don’t want to make it worse. Smashing the clock—assuming that’s even possible—could be catastrophic.”

“No, no. That’s not what I had in mind at all.”

“Oh, really?” Malcolm stretched and leaned back in his chair. “I suppose you’re going to suggest that we turn the hands forward to after midnight, or something.”

“Yes!” I applauded him. “Spot-on.”

Everyone was quiet for a few seconds.

“Well,” said Malcolm, “that’s new, at least. Though only because it’s a new level of stupidity.”

Cordelia gave him an austere look. “Quiet, Malcolm.”

His eyes flashed. “Where do you get off talking to me like that?”

“You’re going to kill my boyfriend in about a hundred years from your time, so yes, I have the right.”

Melody gave him a reproachful look. “Malcolm, how could you?”

“I haven’t!” Malcolm spluttered.

“Nick,” said Cordelia, “I understand what you have in mind. But I don’t think something that simplistic will do much good.”

“Really? Has anyone tried it yet?”

“Of course they haven’t,” said Kanin.

“And why not?”

He addressed me as if I were a child. “Because, Nick, it’s a ridiculous idea. I’m sorry, but undoing a spell as powerful as this one can’t possibly be that easy.”

I folded my arms. “Give me one good reason why not.”

No one replied, which didn’t surprise me.

“Maybe it isn’t that simple,” I consented. “But, on the other hand, maybe it is. I don’t think we’ll know until we give it a try.”

“It’ll be very dangerous,” said Cordelia. “Those clockmen are watching us all the time.”

“All we have to do is distract them,” I said.

Kanin raised a hand. “If you recall, the last person who tried to distract the clockmen ended up in the dungeon.”

“Yeah. I was coming to that.”

Malcolm looked worried. “Please don’t tell me you’re suggesting that one of us should—”

“Exactly. Make a scene and get yourself captured. That way Cordelia and I can make it to the clock.”

He scoffed. “Well, I’m certainly not signing up for that.”

“Might be better if two of you distracted the clockmen, actually. Or three. Or maybe all of you. That way more of them will be kept occupied.”

“Nick,” said Bryn, “I don’t mean to seem selfish, but do you realize what you’re asking of us?”

“Yeah. I do. I’m asking you all to risk being locked away in a dark and horrible dungeon for all of eternity if this idea doesn’t work. And I’m sorry about that. But I still think we need to try it.”

Alan pawed at the floor with his metal hoof. “Why do you and Cordelia get to be the heroes? Why can’t you be the distraction? We’re all just as capable of fiddling with a clock as you are.”

“And I suppose you’ll be willing to accept whatever horrible punishment Beatrice dreams up for the person who does the fiddling? Because I imagine it’ll be a lot worse than whatever she’ll do to the people who only created a diversion.”

“Aha. Right. Good point.”

I looked at Kanin. “So? You appear to have the final word in this little society. What do you think?”

He was silent for a moment. “It’s an utterly ridiculous plan.”

“I’ll concede that.”

“But,” he went on, “I can’t say for sure that it won’t work. And it’s different from anything we’ve attempted before. Since all those ideas ended in failure, perhaps we ought to give this one a chance.”

“It’s not safe,” Malcolm argued. “Casting a few spells to see if we can break the loop, that’s one thing, but a scheme this brazen could get us all killed. Repeatedly.”

“I know that, Malcolm,” said Kanin. “But none of the ‘safe’ ideas have done us much good, have they?”

“I think we should do it,” said Melody.

“Me too,” agreed Bryn. “I’m not very happy about it, but I believe it’s worth the risk.”

“I’m in,” said Alan.

“Me too,” said Cordelia.

I turned to Malcolm. “Looks like you’re outvoted.”

“Votes don’t matter,” he grumbled. “This isn’t a democracy. Kanin gives the orders, we follow them. Thought I can’t begin to explain why.”

Melody elbowed him in the ribs. “Hush, you.”

Kanin got to his feet. He didn’t bother to acknowledge Malcolm’s snide remark. “We’ll proceed with Nick’s plan. But we should hurry. This loop won’t last very much longer.” He pointed to the revolving panel we had come through. “You know the drill. We carefully leave the room one at a time. Malcolm’s illusion spells won’t be enough to divert the clockmen’s suspicion if we all march out of here together.”

“Why can’t you use those spells to hide us while we try to change the clock?” I asked Malcolm. “Then we’d be invisible, and we wouldn’t have to bother with the distraction.”

“I wish,” said Malcolm.

“Invisibility magic is tricky,” Cordelia explained. “It doesn’t really work if you’re out in plain sight of everybody. Something tucked away in a corner, like the door to this room, is easy to keep hidden so long as nobody draws attention to it. But an illusion spell won’t keep you invisible if you march right into the middle of a crowded room with it. It can’t hold up under that kind of strain.”

“All right,” I said. “I’ll take your word for it.”

One by one, the members of the society trooped out of the room. Soon, only Kanin, Cordelia, and myself remained.

“Ladies first,” I told Cordelia. “I’ll be right behind you.”

She bit her lip. “I hope this works.”

“You and me both. Now, hurry.” I gave her a gentle push. “And be careful.”

As the panel swung shut behind her, I addressed Kanin. “Look, I know I already asked you this, and you weren’t very forthcoming about it, but for some reason I feel I have to try again. Who are you?”

Despite the mask, I could read his expression enough to tell he was irritated. “Please, don’t start that now. We haven’t got the time.”

“Why are you wearing that mask?”

“Because I like it.”

“It looks uncomfortable.”

“It’s not.”

“Who are you trying to hide your identity from? Beatrice?”

“Yes.” He blurted out his reply a little too quickly.

“I think you’re lying. Besides, she’s so powerful that I doubt a mask would be enough to keep your face hidden from her.”

“It’s an enchanted mask.” He reached up to straighten it.

“Wouldn’t a glamour spell be more effective?”

“They’re not really my style. Can we please drop the subject now? We need to get back to the ballroom.” He headed for the door.

“Certainly.” I sidestepped so that he bumped into me on his way past. “Oops, sorry.”

Just as he was about to activate the revolving panel, he patted his jacket, then froze and clenched his fists in anger. “Give it back.”

“What?” I held up the color photograph I’d picked from his pocket. “This?”

He spun around. “That is none of your business.”

“I’m only trying to get to know you better.” I took a better look at the photo. It showed a chestnut-haired girl in a jacket and trousers, leaning against a tree and smiling. She appeared to be in her early twenties. “Pretty. A little young for you, perhaps, but I’m assuming this is an old picture.”

He snatched it away from me. “Like I said, none of your business.”

I rubbed my chin. “She looks a little familiar, but I can’t place her. What’s her name?”

“If you must know, her name’s Alice.”

“Doesn’t ring a bell. Any last name?”

“No.”

“Oh, well. You know…I could swear I’ve met you before, somewhere.”

“You have. Weren’t you listening when I explained about the time loops?”

“Yeah, about those—you always show up at the ball after us, in each loop. So, logically, that must mean you’re from sometime in my future, right?”

“Not necessarily,” he demurred. “The arrival times can be random. From what I’ve observed, people from different time periods don’t always arrive at the ball in the correct order.”

I frowned at him. “Why are you being coy? I didn’t ask for another one of your long-winded explanations about time-loop magic; I’m just asking what year it was when you came to be here.” I squinted at him and tried to access my jumbled memories again. “Because I’m sure I remember you from somewhere other than this castle, which should mean that you’re from before my time.”

“That must be it, then. I’m from your past.”

“But—”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” He pointed to the door. “Go already, will you, Nick? Let’s not bungle your bright idea by being late.”

With difficulty, I succeeded in tearing my gaze away from him. There was something familiar about him…but it was also deeply unsettling. I wanted to know who he was, but at the same time, something deep inside me didn’t want to know.

 

Our little group scattered across the ballroom, mingling with the crowd. Beatrice was nowhere to be seen, thank goodness, but I did notice her clockmen lurking on the fringes of the dance floor. The hoods of their cloaks were pulled up to hide their mechanical-skull faces once more.

Kanin moved closer to me and Cordelia, but kept his back to us. “This is it.” His voice was barely audible above the rich classical strains coming from the orchestra. “Get ready.”

“We are ready,” I replied. “Would you like to start the diversion, Alan?”

A mischievous grin spread across the centaur’s face. He turned to the orchestra, which was right in the middle of a stately classical waltz, and held up his hands like a conductor.

Like all centaurs, Alan had the ability to control the motion of objects. The ones he had his eye on now were the orchestra’s instruments. They rose out of the startled musicians’ hands, high above their heads, and began to play a very different song—a swing tune from modern times.

“Alan’s quite the musician,” Bryn explained as she approached us. “He can play pretty much anything.” She watched him proudly as he directed the song.

“Lovely. But I don’t think those clockmen approve.” Cordelia motioned to the mechanical creatures, who were advancing on Alan in staccato jerks.

“I’d better do something about that, then, hadn’t I?” Bryn changed into a sheepdog and rushed at the clockmen, barking in their hooded faces. They snatched at her, but she was too fast for them.

Melody moved over to a table laden with refreshments. She picked up some sandwiches and began gleefully throwing them at random people.

“She reminds me of you,” I said to Cordelia.

“Oh, really? I can’t imagine why.”

Malcolm snapped his fingers, and one of the tapestries hanging on the wall burst into flames.

“Not nearly as satisfying as breathing fire,” he remarked, “but at least I still have some of my powers.”

“Good job.” Melody pulled a dagger from under her coat as five clockmen advanced on her and Malcolm. Orbs of fire materialized over Malcolm’s open palms, and he and Melody launched into battle against the robots.

Alan had abandoned his one-centaur band performance and was using his powers to throw the clockmen around the ballroom. Bryn was now a bear—a far more imposing form than I’d ever seen her take before. Dancers screamed and ran as she and Alan reduced the clockmen to piles of cogs and gears, one by one. Unfortunately, the magic that animated them also put them back together every time they got smashed. To make matters worse, there were now a lot more of them.

“Where are they coming from?” I exclaimed.

“They can build more of themselves,” said Kanin. “See?” He indicated the remains of a clockman that Alan had trampled. The components separated into two piles, and each of these reassembled into another clockman.

“That’s not fair!” I shouted.

“I agree!” As the two automatons advanced on Kanin, he flung out his hand toward the floor at their feet. A swirling vortex of white light opened up and pulled them in. He stretched his other hand toward the ceiling, and another hole appeared among the frescoes. The clockmen tumbled out of it and fell to the floor. The forty-foot drop onto solid marble left them in smithereens.

“I thought you said you couldn’t make those rabbit-hole things in here,” I said.

“Not to the outside, and not to the dungeons. But so long as I stay within the confines of the ballroom, I can use my powers however I like.”

He wasn’t finished yet. As the broken parts of the clockmen pulled back together, he held out both hands toward them and closed his eyes. The partially-assembled robots froze with a loud creak. Red spots of rust spread across their metal limbs like leprosy. When they fell apart this time, there weren’t even any components left. In seconds, they had aged into heaps of reddish-brown dust.

Things were going fairly well until Beatrice came back.

The air rippled near where the clockmen had fallen, and the fairy godmother stepped out of the ether to stand directly in front of Kanin. She simpered at him. “Oh, how naughty. You’re broken my lovely toys. I shall have to be very, very stern with you this time.” She held up her hands, and runes shone between her fingers.

Kanin smiled. “Go ahead and try.” White light crackled around him…and he turned into a rabbit.

True, it doesn’t sound very impressive. However, he didn’t become an actual, ordinary rabbit. He was still human-sized and roughly human-shaped, and his eyes were blazing white. He didn’t look remotely like a cute little bunny. More like one of the powerful, dangerous trickster creatures of folklore who take on animalistic forms.

Beatrice began casting runes at the White Rabbit, but he merely gave a strange, unearthly laugh and parried them with quick motions of his hands. The fairy godmother’s spells shattered against his fingers like glass. Then he blasted her with bolts of white lightning. She squeaked in alarm and staggered back, casting a shield of runes in front of her to block his powers.

“Right then.” Cordelia grabbed my hand. “I think they’ve got the diversion going nicely. Shall we stop gawking at them and get to work?” She dragged me over to the big pillar holding the clock.

I looked ruefully up at the timepiece. “You know, maybe this is too simple.”

Cordelia punched me on the arm. “Don’t start talking like that now! This is no time for pessimism!” She bent down, pulled off her shoe, and threw it at the clock face with all her strength. The glass shattered to smithereens, and the shoe fell to the floor.

“Watch out,” I warned. “Some prince might pick that up and expect to marry you.”

“Very funny. Are you going to change the clock, or aren’t you? I would, but I’m not quite tall enough to reach it.”

“Right.” I squared my shoulders. “Here goes.”

The fur on the back of my hand prickled as my fingers drew nearer to the clock face. I hooked my claw over the hour hand and began to push it toward twelve. As I did, everything around me took on an eerie, dream-like quality. Time stuttered forward at a much faster pace. The dancers moved like people in a sped-up film reel. The music distorted from a stately waltz into a bizarre, high-pitched music-box tune. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Kanin and his society still fighting at the same pace. Maybe it was because we were near the clock, or because we were near Beatrice. Either way, no one in our vicinity seemed to be affected by the sped-up time.

I had brought the time almost all the way to twelve when a yelp of surprise from Cordelia caused me to stop and whirl around.

Beatrice was standing behind Cordelia. She was holding a curved, ancient-looking knife engraved with glowing blue runes. As I watched in horror, she pressed the tip of the blade to Cordelia’s neck.

“I could simply threaten her with a spell, of course,” she said. “But this is more…tangible.”

She had vanquished Kanin in the end. He lay unconscious on the floor, and was in the process of shifting back into his masked human form. Malcolm, Melody, Alan, and Bryn were surrounded by a tight circle of clockmen, who had their claws extended to disembowel them if they dared to move.

So much for the diversion.

“Let her go,” I snarled at Beatrice.

Her eyes went to my finger, which was still poised against the hour hand. “Let that go first.”

This was as far as I dared to push her. She had all the leverage. If I managed to end the time loop, and Beatrice killed Cordelia, then Cordelia wouldn’t come back. There would be no more resets; no more second chances.

“All right,” I stepped back from the clock and held my hands up in the air. “You win. Just leave her alone.”

Beatrice slowly loosened her grip on Cordelia, who lurched away the second the point of the knife left her skin. She turned to face the fairy godmother, her eyes filled with fury.

Beatrice ran the tip of the dagger along the lapel of my jacket. “Now, I don’t want you to think I’m angry with you. Far from it. After all, it’s not like your ridiculous idea would have worked.”

I ground my teeth. I’d been afraid of that.

“Oh, you can speed up the loops by changing the clock,” she went on, “but that only makes them go faster. It won’t actually stop them. And the clock can’t be completely destroyed, either—it puts itself back together just like my clockmen.”

She was right. Even as she spoke, the fragments of glass from the clock face rose back to their place and fitted together like a jigsaw puzzle, shielding the hands from my touch.

“So I’m really, honestly not upset with you.” Beatrice tapped the dagger against her palm. “But…I can’t have you meddling with my magic, even if there’s nothing you can do to thwart it. It sets a bad example.”

Kanin had regained consciousness, and now struggled to his feet. “These people are all under my protection, Beatrice. You leave them alone.”

She laughed. “Ah, so now you’re finally taking responsibility for all the unrest in my lovely party. I wondered how long it would take for your better self to prevail, after you sacrificed that poor dryad and the faun for your silly little schemes. And I’d heard the White Rabbit was a hero.” She gave a wistful sigh. “It’s been fun, watching you try and fail over and over again to ruin the ball. But I’m afraid all good things must come to an end. It’s high time you and your friends went to the dungeons.”

“It was my fault,” I said. “I put them up to it. Send me to the dungeons. You don’t need to punish everyone else for my mistake.”

“You’re right. It was your fault, wasn’t it?” She ran a finger along the edge of her blade. “As a matter of fact, I’ve changed my mind. I am angry.”

Before I could move a muscle or comprehend what was happening, Beatrice’s knife flashed toward me.

I realized, with a sort of numb, hazy shock, that she’d buried it in my stomach.

“NO!”

The cry came from Cordelia—but not just her. She had shouted in unison with someone else.

Kanin.

I tried to stay on my feet, but it wasn’t any use. In the end, I settled for a less-than-graceful slump to the floor. I was beginning to lose feeling in my limbs, and I caught a brief glimpse of the red stain blooming across my waistcoat. I pulled the knife free with a trembling hand, expecting my unique healing abilities to kick in and save me. But whatever the blade’s magic was, it prevented that. The wound wouldn’t close, and the world continued to grow darker.

A lot was happening around me. Cordelia grabbed Kanin and yelled something in his masked face. I couldn’t quite hear his reply, but his lips formed the words “can’t” and “knife.” I assumed that the enchantment on Beatrice’s blade would stop him using his powers to heal me.

Cordelia went after Beatrice, firing a volley of red runes that would probably have torn any normal person to shreds. Unfortunately, they had no effect on the fairy godmother, who simply laughed and then vanished.

Then Cordelia was grabbing my hand, stroking the fur on my face, begging me to look at her, to stay awake. I couldn’t see her, partly because my vision was starting to blur, and partly because Kanin was in the way. I could only see fragments of his grief-contorted face beneath the strange, inhuman features of his mask.

And then his hand moved over the rabbit’s visage, pulling it away.

I struggled to focus as my imagination reached back through the years to discern the familiar face underneath.

Glamour spells don’t work on people who know you well. No wonder he hadn’t used one.

The truth crashed over me as I sank into darkness, and with my last breath, I whispered Kanin’s true name.

“Crispin.”