Page 34

None of this made any sense.

What the hell was happening?

High above, through the stuttering of time, sparks spat from the side of a cliff. Metal struts jutted from the rock face, the last remnants of some forgotten structure. He could hear the winding down of gears.

That’s where they’d come from. That’s where they’d start looking for answers.

But first, they needed to get out of here. Carefully. Quietly. Making sure not to disturb—

Rustling.

Skye turned.

Dagger in hand, Kato was already sawing at the webs binding his feet. Skye winced at every snap, every unnecessary vibration.

“Kato, stop.”

But it was too late.

A clicking echoed up the cliff face, faint at first but growing louder.

A ripple passed through the nearest thread. Then another. Each one spreading out like a silent alarm through the nest.

“Shit,” Skye muttered, frantically pulling at the webs clinging to him. They were like tar, sticky and impossible to shake off.

The world flickered—one moment golden and blurry, the next sharply real.

In those moments of clarity, Skye saw them. Dark shapes shifted against the cliff face, big as boulders, their multiple eyes gleaming with a cold, predatory light. Legs—long and spindly and unsettlingly jointed—clicked against the stone.

“This island has giant spiders too?!” Kato’s voice cracked as he frantically tore at the rest of the webbing. “Why does anyonechooseto live here?!”

Skye ripped himself free and got to his feet. He pulled his sword. A flick of a switch and fire bloomed down the blade.

He turned toward the cliff—toward the chittering, skitteringwrongnessspilling from the rock.

He exhaled, steady. “Would you believe the summers are really beautiful?”

Chapter 8

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this,” Aneirin said. “To finally be sitting across from the last living time mage, why… Look at you!”

His smile was carved for charm, broad and effortless, as if he weredelightedby the sight of her. “I can see now what all the fuss is about. Why, you couldn’t be more perfect if you were designed.”

A snap of his fingers summoned Luck, who placed a glass of clear, bubbly liquid in his hand.

“Luck, liven this place up—get some people in here. There’s nothing more tragic than an empty tavern.”

The change was instant.

Laughter. Voices. Warm bodies filling the space. In a blink, the tavern was full.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Aneirin said. “There were others who wanted to witness this auspicious occasion.”

Taly stiffened, taking it all in. The crowd pressed in—not physically, yet close enough to smother. They drifted like shadows, existing both in the room and somewhere beyond it. Moving without weight, their fine robes trailed like mist over the polished floor. Jewels glimmered softly in their hair, around their necks, on their fingers, their sparkle muted and distant—stars glimpsed through fog.

Other dreamers, she realized, drawn in to watch the show.

Masks hid their faces—animals and birds cast in gold. Some had smiles carved into the metal. She couldn’t tell if it was meant to welcome her or mock her. Maybe both.