Page 42 of Hateful Prince
“Find the bloody clock,” I whispered as I stumbled down the hallway, opening door after door in search of the source of that never-ending noise.
Spotting a bookcase, I tore into the room and began flinging books off the shelves, tossing them behind me in my hunt for that infernal ticking. It had to be here. They’d hidden the fucking clock in the books. Of course they had. Tricky, tricky doctors and their tests.
“No, no, no,” I muttered, desperation making me clumsy as I came to the final shelf.
“The key is lost.”
“You will never return home.”
“You failed.”
Ticktock
Ticktock
Ticktock
I pounded my forehead against the wood shelf in time with the incessant ticking. The dull ache between my eyes distracted me, but only just. Heaving a sigh, I returned to ripping books from the final shelf and desperately rummaging like a feral raccoon. Reaching the final book, I let out a savage cry before chucking it behind me with the others.
“Oi, pirate!” A booming voice pulled me from my crouched position.
I stood, straightening my shirt sleeves in an attempt to hide my rapidly advancing madness. “Kit, I don’t recall inviting you on my little scavenger hunt.”
“Is that what this is?” he asked, lifting a brow as he scanned me from head to toe. “You look bloody awful, Hook. Been on a week-long bender?”
I waved a hand at him. “Come on then, we’re searching for the tickety-tock. Tickety-tock, tickety-tock, let us find the missing clock.”
Kit blinked at me, his amusement obvious. “Have you been hiding the good drugs, Caspian? Naughty, naughty. Sharing is caring. Especially amongst friends.”
“No drugs. No. Not for me. Not since the tick, tick, ticking started. And the voices. They’re everywhere. Can’t you hear it all? They keep pushing, pushing, pushing. Trying to drive me mad, they are. Bloody pixies. So fast I can’t even see ’em.” My eyes darted around the room, checking to make sure they were still invisible to me.
“Trying? Mate, I’d say they’ve succeeded. You’re madder than a hatter.”
“Tell me where you hid the clock, demon!” I snarled, rushing him and grabbing the man by his collar.
He shoved me back until I slammed into the now empty bookcase. My head bashed against the edge of the wood, bringing with it a small starburst of pain and a sweet flicker of clarity.
“Dahlia.”
“She’s the cure.”
“Go to her.”
Kit smoothed down his shirt, his voice thick with anger. “Never lay hands on me again. I won’t give you another warning.”
But I wasn’t paying any attention. I was already consumed by my need to get to my Wendy-bird. Since my attack in the woods, there was no true reprieve from the voices, but at least the ticking seemed to be muted when I was in her presence.
Shaking my head in a vain attempt to keep my wits about me, I lurched out of the room and through the halls of Blackwood, every step harder than the last as my focus waned. Fuck, I was losing my grip on reality so bloody quickly these days. Even now, as I glanced out a window I knew didn’t exist, my brain struggled to accept that the view beyond the glass wasn’t real. Had there been an actual window, I would be seeing misty treetops and endless expanses of green and gray. Instead I saw gulls flying across the horizon and the never-ending roll of the sea.
Ticktock
Ticktock
Ticktock
The staccato sound echoed in my skull, this time loud enough to send spikes through my brain. A sweat broke out across my forehead, nausea curled in my gut, and I thought I might be sick before I made it to her.
Gritting my teeth, I focused hard on my goal, muttering a panicked and nearly unintelligible chant under my breath. “Have to... must keep... Dahlia...”