I blew out my breath in a huff. “Then why are we here?”
“All in good time, my dear. All in good time.” Shooing Puck away from the table, the Clockmaker turned to his work. His long fingers flew over the clock, barely distinguishable blurs, like he was typing something in fast-forward. “I told you, girl, I know the time things happen, and when they end. I do not know the reasons why. Nor do I know the location of the false king.” He straightened, fishing in his vest to pull out a white cloth, which he used to polish the once-broken clock. “However, I do know this. You will find him, and find him soon. Your destiny, and the destiny of many others, are shown in the faces of the clocks, ticking away together. So, you see, girl.” He picked up the clock and hopped from the stool, pausing to stare at me with beady eyes. “You already know everything you need to find him.”
I bit down my impatience. This was useless. And every second we wasted here, Puck and Ash’s amulets were corroding, succumbing to the poison of the Iron Realm. “Please,” I told the Clockmaker, “we don’t have much…time. If you say you can help us, do it now so we can be on our way.”
“Yes,” agreed the Clockmaker, turning to face me fully. “Now it is time.”
He reached into his vest, and pulled out a large iron key on a silk ribbon. “This is yours,” he said solemnly, handing it over. “Keep it safe. Do not lose it, for you will need it soon.”
I took the key, watching it spin and dangle in the light. “What is it for?”
“I do not know.” The Clockmaker blinked at my frown. “As I said, girl; I only know the when of a thing. I do not know the hows and whys. But I do know this: in one hundred and sixty-one hours, thirteen minutes, and fifty-two seconds, you will need that key.”
“A hundred and sixty hours? That’s several days from now. How am I supposed to keep track?”
“Take this.” The Clockmaker reached into the other side of his vest and drew forth a pocket watch, spinning hypnotically on a gold chain. “Everyone should have a time device,” he stated as he handed it to me. “I do not know how the oldbloods do it, never worrying about time. I would find it simply maddening. So, I give this to you.”
“I…um…appreciate it.”
His whiskers twitched. “I am sure you do. Oh, and one last thing. That watch you hold, Meghan Chase? Its life span is drawing to a close. Thirty-two minutes and twelve seconds from the time you use that key, it will cease to run.”
I felt a chill in the warm, cozy room. “What does that mean?”
“It means,” the Clockmaker said, his beady eyes never blinking as they stared at me, “that in one hundred and sixty-one hours, forty-five minutes, and fifty-eight seconds, something will happen to make that watch stop.
“Now.” He smiled at me—at least, I think he did—beneath his whiskers and gave me a slight bow. “I believe our time together has come to an end. Good luck to you, Meghan Chase,” he said as he waddled out of the room. “Remember, it ends at the beginning. And give my regards to the first lieutenant, when you see him.” He pushed aside the curtains over the door, slipped through, and was gone.
I sighed. Threading the key through the watch’s chain, I looped the whole thing around my neck. “Just once, I’d like it if a faery could give me a straight answer,” I muttered as Ash pulled up the trapdoor again. “Seems to me this whole trip was a waste of time, time we don’t have. And where the hell is Grimalkin? Maybe he could make some sense of everything, if he didn’t keep disappearing every time I turn around.”
“I am right here, human.” Grimalkin appeared on the chair, curled up much as the larger cat had been. His tail thumped the cushion irritably. “Where I was for much of the conversation. It is not my fault you cannot see past the end of your nose.” With an offended air, the cat leaped from the cushion and slipped out the trapdoor, not stopping to look back.
Great, now the cat was mad at me. Knowing Grimalkin, I’d have to beg and plead for him to tell us what he knew, or offer up my firstborn son or something.
Frustrated, I stomped back down the stairs, Ash and Puck trailing behind. Outside, the city glittered with lights, both natural and artificial, but except for the gremlins, chattering and buzzing in the shadows, the streets themselves were empty. I wondered how much time we had lost, coming here. I wondered, despite Grimalkin’s assurances, if it had really been necessary.
“Where to now?” Ash mused, looking at me. “Do we have a destination?”
“Yes,” I said decisively, almost relieved to be back on track. “The tower.”
“The tower? Machina’s tower?”