An excerpt from the personal notes of Azura Raine, High Lady of Time

The world ended today. By my own hand.

I shut down the gates.

I take full responsibility for every death, every lost colony, every life inexorably altered.

I say a silent prayer for my friends who will have to live in the world that comes after, and now go freely into my exile.

---

Talya Caro stared out the window of the luxurious tower apartment and immediately began planning her escape.

She'd woken up only moments before in what had to be the most exquisite set of rooms she'd ever seen, tucked in with care in a massive bed piled with pillows and quilts. She was clean, her hair washed and braided, and the injuries she'd sustained during her escape from the Vale relay had all been carefully wrapped, if not healed completely.

There was only one problem.

She didn't know where she was. Or how she had gotten here. She didn't know who had tended to her while she slept. The last thing she remembered clearly was meeting a woman claiming to be the Time Queen, and then... nothing. Just darkness.

Beyond the window, rolling green hills rose in the distance, and the gardens surrounding the palace were in full bloom, speckled with bright bursts of color. It was summer, warm and sunny and lovely in that way that all Tempris summers were undeniably lovely.

That was also a problem.

It had been spring when she'd left Ebondrift. Still cold and raining when she'd been dragged into that swirling portal, taken from a place that had been left to ruin and deposited at the gates of a palace that was too shining and new to exist anywhere on the ramshackle island she called home.

This place was impossible. That woman was... impossible. It was as if Taly had been plucked from one place, one time, and sent to another, and that was... a problem.

Okay, so maybe there were quite a few problems. Definitely more than one.

"Breathe," Taly murmured, squeezing her eyes shut. She wasn't dead (yet), and she hadn't been recruited into some unknown, undead army (yet).

On the other hand, she was at the Time Queen's palace, a guest of the most vilified woman in all fey history. A woman that had committed wide-scale genocide of every known species in the Fey Imperium; whose actions had precipitated a centuries-long hunt for anyone unlucky enough to be born a time mage.

Which Taly was now. A time mage. Fey.

She clenched and unclenched her fists, looking down at the smooth, unmarked skin. The few runes that had still marked her wrist and arm after she broke through her mother's enchantments had been wiped away, the crystal in her palm removed while she slept. For fifteen years, her mother's magic had suppressed her aether, allowed her to walk among the fey as a human, and now that those spells were gone, she wasn't sure what she was going to do, how she was supposed to hide.

Taly sighed. Great. Yet another problem. At least that was one that could wait until later—assuming she made it back home.

No, right now—right now, she needed a plan.

Turning away from the window, she let her eyes drift over the room. From what she could tell, she had been put in a tower, though it was far from the kind she had always read about in human fairy stories. There was a bedroom, a music room, even a small library with an attached study—all decorated in shades of blue with flourishes of gold and white marble. It was exquisite, so grand and spacious that Taly might've been inclined to believe her safety wasn't in question if it weren't for one small detail: there was no way out.

The front door was locked, the windows sealed shut and reinforced with what looked like air magic, a barrier to keep anyone from going in or out. She had been put in a cage. A beautiful cage, but a still a cage, nonetheless. Instinct told her it probably wasn't in her best interest to stick around long enough to find out why.

That was something she could hold onto. Current goal: get the hell out of here.

Taly took a step, wobbling slightly. Something about being fey had thrown off her balance. She'd fallen to the floor when she'd first slipped out of bed. And then again when she'd tried to stand. And by the time she'd figured how to put one foot in front of the other, the new immortal senses that accompanied her new immortal body had started to demand more attention. Blue was now blue, and red was red, and everything was too bright and too loud, every smell too strong. Her head was already starting to ache.

Taly took a breath, grabbing a nearby table as she took another shaky step. She needed weapons, and boots. A change of clothes would also be nice. The gauzy nightgown she wore, though lovely, was ill-suited for the kind of escape she had in mind.

The door to the apartment was locked, sealed with magic. Trying to pick it would be pointless.

The windows were covered with decorate iron grates.

That left the terrace. It was also locked, but the door was made of glass, and that was something she could work with.

Escape.

The word solidified in her mind as Taly strode back through the rooms, each step stronger and more certain than the last. She disregarded the rich furnishings, the tapestries and art and freshly cut flowers, searching until she found a set of double doors she'd missed in her initial investigation. Though the rooms flowed from one to the other, separated only by thick velvet curtains draped across each doorway, a corridor ran around the perimeter of the apartment, leading to those rooms that were typically set aside for personal use.

A moment later, she was standing, wide-eyed and gaping, in what had to be the largest closet she'd ever seen.

Corsets, and ballgowns, and dresses of every style and color. Fashions she recognized, others she didn't, and still some she had no words to describe.

It was all entirely impractical. Too heavy, too restrictive to allow for fighting or running. Still... it was a lot of fabric. Good quality.

Taly smiled. That might work.

She ran her fingers along sleeves and ruffles of silk and lace, picking up a pair of shears that she found tucked in a sewing basket along the way. Then, choosing a random gown, she began cutting the jeweled satin into strips.

When Taly had reduced the dress to nothing but ribbons, she grabbed another, then another. She braided the delicate fabric, tied the woven cords end-to-end, until she had the beginnings of a rope that she felt confident would hold her weight. By her estimate, it was over 300 feet from her balcony to the ground. And while she would never be able to make enough rope to climb all the way down, a few more dresses would give her enough to make it to the next balcony. From there, she might be able to access the lower levels of the palace and, hopefully, find her way out.

It wasn't a great plan—she acknowledged that. But she also didn't have very many other options, so she kept cutting and ripping and weaving. It would be just like that time she tried to climb out of her bedroom window at Harbor Manor using bedsheets. Only a lot farther down if she happened to fall.

Inspecting her makeshift rope, Taly jerked her head. "This'll have to do," she said, tugging off her nightdress. There was a flicker to her right, and everything inside her went still as she turned to face the woman standing only a scant few feet away.

Beautiful. That was Taly's first thought. The alien creature staring back at her was as beautiful as any fey, fluid and graceful, even standing still.

But then realization settled in, and she stumbled forward, slightly dazed when the woman in the mirror copied the movement.

"Shards..." Taly whispered. She had known she looked different, had seen her reflection at the river's edge. But here, in the light of day, utterly naked with nothing to hide behind...

A stranger—she hadn't been prepared to see a stranger staring back at her from beyond the glass.

Lifting a hand, Taly traced the unfamiliar arch of her ear, then pulled at the skin of her face, trying to find something, some piece of her old self, that had escaped the transformation unscathed.

The color of her hair, the shape of her chin—those were still the same. And, maybe... yes—her nose was still just a little too long, and there was a tiny bump on the bridge from when she'd fallen down the stairs as a child.

But everything else...

Her skin had turned a few shades paler, and her body, though curved in all the ways that a woman's body should be curved, looked thinner. Prominent cheekbones, brows that arched in a way that was decidedly inhuman, and her eyes... No longer a human gray, her eyes were the color of storm clouds and smoke, steel and steam. In the dim light of the closet, they nearly glowed.

Taly clenched her fists until she smelled blood, her nails cutting into her skin. She didn't have time for this. There was no way to know when someone would come to check on her, to see if she was awake. She could sit and think, try to figure out the mess her life had become later. When she was safe.

Clothes, she reminded herself. She needed some real clothes, something a little sturdier than a nightdress or a ballgown.

Muttering a truly foul string of curses and feeling slightly better for it, she turned and began rifling through a large dresser set against the wall. There were drawers of lacy underwear, nightgowns as delicate as cobwebs, and more jewels than she had ever seen in a single collection. It was all useless, of course. No good for escaping from tall, tall towers, though she did set aside a few of the jewels to trade for coin.

After several minutes of frenzied exploration, she opened a drawer and smiled. "Finally." Simple, sturdy clothing—perfect for travelling.

She shimmied on a pair of leggings, shrugged on a shirt—both black—and then dug through the racks and racks of fine clothing until she found a lightweight, leather coat. Everything fit like it had been made for her, but she didn't let herself think too hard on that fact.

Since she didn't have any weapons, she tucked the sewing shears into a pair of boots that were still too new to be comfortable and fastened her hair into a bun using jeweled pins that looked sharp enough to sting if it came down to a brawl. Then, grabbing her makeshift rope, she made her way back to the terrace.

The door was locked from the outside and made of glass, reinforced with a sturdy barrier of air magic. But that didn't stop her for long. One broken window and a few clipped wires, exposed by a crack in the doorframe, and Taly stepped out into the bright light of day.

The sun was near blinding to her new fey eyes, and she squinted, holding up a hand as she stepped along the wide stone terrace. A balmy, summer breeze caressed her skin, bringing with it the smell of jasmine and freshly cut grass. She could already feel a trickle of sweat dripping down her ribs as she stared at the sky stretching out around her–a pure, uninterrupted canvas of boundless blue.

It was beautiful. Breathtakingly so. But she forced her eyes away, turning her attention to the ghastly set of gargoyles decorating one of the eaves.

After testing the integrity of the stone, Taly looped her rope around the base of the statue, gave it a quick tug, and then proceeded to climb over the railing.

She chanced a glance down, and the world tilted as a wave of nausea rippled through her. Closing her eyes, she forced herself to breathe. "You just have to make it to the next balcony." About 20 yards down and to the right. That was doable.

Tightening her grip on the woven scraps of shredded fabric—this really was a terrible idea—she said a brief prayer to the Shards and jumped.

Her stomach dropped. The world blurred. For a moment, she feared that the rope wouldn't hold, that the fabric would give way or the stone would break. But then she felt the rope catch, and she began to swing, stretching out her legs and tensing her body as she groped for the wall of the tower.

Something jerked at the rope. Taly's boots scraped against the stone, trying to find traction.

She let out a yelp when a rough metal hand clamped down on her shoulder and hauled her back over the railing.

Taly sputtered out a curse, trying to twist out of her attacker's grip. The pressure on her shoulder abruptly released, and she stumbled, losing her footing as she was unceremoniously tossed through the doors and back onto the black-and-white checkered tile of the library. She reached for the shears stuffed into her boot, only to realize that this "weapon" would do very little against the thing that towered over her.

At 10 feet tall, the Mechanica suit blotted out the sun streaming through the open doorway. Bulky yet polished, streaks of vibrant red ran the length of its chrome-colored frame, and when it took a lumbering step toward her, Taly only saw dark, vacant space where flesh should have been. Blue veins of energy coiled around its form, pulling and tugging at the pieces of armor, making the metal shiver and clank.

The crystals embedded in its gauntlets flashed red, then white. Something clicked into place, like the loading of a gun.

Taly scrambled to her feet, brandishing the shears as she hurtled across the library, desperate for space. Her eyes flicked from the suit of armor to the doorway and back. She'd never make it. The thing was too large; it would just cut her off at the pass. And she had no way of knowing if the door to the apartment was unlocked.

She was trapped.

Trapped with no way out.

The entire tower seemed to shudder as the Mechanica took another step forward, the metal scraping harshly against the marble floor.

Taly began to shake, uselessly adjusting her grip on the shears.

"My Lady."

Taly jumped at the sound of the surprisingly light, feminine voice. The formal honorific struck a chord deep inside her, and despite the panic that was quickly crushing in on her, she found herself saying, "Don't call me that." Her voice cracked, and she winced.

"Of course, Madam," the Mechanica conceded readily.

"No... that's not what I meant." Taly frowned, confusion breaking through the panic. This was absurd. When the suit continued to stare at her impassively, she snapped, "Well, c'mon. Whatever it is you're here to do, get on with it. Stop stalling." She groped behind her, grabbing a book from a nearby shelf and hurling it at the Mechanica.

The Mechanica tilted its strange, metal head, glancing at the book as it fell to the floor with a thud. Its head lifted, and it said, "As you wish, Madam."

Taly tensed, ready to run, ready to fight, ready to do anything but die. And even though she knew it would do her little good, she grabbed another book, holding it at the ready.

The Mechanica took a step, then another. Its joints droned, and the cannons embedded in its gauntlets began to buzz, the crystals flashing erratically as the startup sequences engaged.

"Shit." Taly pressed herself against the bookshelf. This was going to hurt. As a human, it might've been quick, but fey were harder to kill. They took forever to die.

"Madam." A metal arm extended, and Taly braced herself for what was sure to be a murderous blow. Her killer was polite—at least, she had that going for her.

She waited.

And waited.

She tightened her grip on her shears, eyes squeezed shut.

Still waiting.

Taly cracked open an eye and... she really didn't have an explanation for what happened next. The events of the past few days had made her question her entire reality, every single thing she thought she ever knew. She had witnessed the unimaginable and believed the unbelievable, but this... this made no sense.

Taly could do nothing but gape as the suit awkwardly bent at the waist and... bowed.

"The Queen respectfully requests your presence at tea," it stated tersely. A brief pause, and then it shuddered. The pieces of armor clanked together loudly as it rose.

Taly's mouth opened... then closed. The book slipped out of her hand, landing at her feet with a muted thump. "What?"

"Tea, Madam," the Mechanica repeated. "Her Imperial Majesty has requested your presence at tea."

Taly was suddenly glad for the bookshelf at her back, how real it felt when everything else was spinning out of control. A private audience with the Time Queen was the absolute last thing she wanted in this place that made no Shards-forsaken sense. This was the woman responsible for the Schism. A Genesis Lord—a High Lady. No sane, rational person would agree to this, and even though her grip on reality was starting to feel dangerously tenuous, she still considered herself to be both sane and rational.

"T-tell the Queen that I decline," Taly said, mustering that politeness Sarina had worked so hard to instill in her. "Respectfully."

The Mechanica watched her impassively. "That is not a suitable answer."

"Well, if that's the case, then I guess it's not a request." The words were out before Taly could think better of them.

The Mechanica paused, tilting its armored head in that strange disembodied way. "Forgive me, Madam. The Queen respectfully demands your presence at tea."

"And if I still don't go?" Taly argued mulishly.

"Then I suppose I'll be forced to carry you."

When the Mechanica took a step to the side, edging farther into the room, Taly used that as an opportunity to dart for the arched doorway that led back into the apartment. She put as much space as possible between her and whatever the hell that thing was, sprinting to the front parlor. Her eyes flicked to the main door. Was it still locked? Would there be more of those things outside?

The Mechanica followed her, its metal body stiff and unyielding as it lumbered from room to room. "Do I make you uncomfortable, Madam?"

"Yes," Taly answered immediately, eyeing the two cannons embedded in its metal gauntlets. "You make me uncomfortable. This entire situation makes me uncomfortable."

The guard bobbed its head. Since it had no physical body and, therefore, no neck, the movement was graceless and uncoordinated. "I apologize, Madam. I will make adjustments."

The suit of armor began to tremble violently, and Taly shuffled back, raising those shears as if they would do her any good.

The helmet was the first thing to fall, hitting the floor with a sharp crack. The arms came next as their whirring joints slowly spun to a stop and slipped out of socket. The legs shuddered; the plating on the torso began to cave. The remaining armor seemed to hover for a moment, suspended for one breathless second before it abruptly collapsed in on itself, crashing to the floor in a tangled heap.

Tendrils of blue energy floated in the newly empty space, swirling chaotically as they began to take shape, forming themselves into the shape of a woman. Her face was smooth and featureless, and her dress looked like smoke as it clung to her nearly transparent form.

Fairy fire.

A spirit. A ghost had been inhabiting the machine, attempting to mimic the living. But this woman wasn't like the simple blue orbs of energy she'd seen at the gates, the ones her mother had summoned. She was different and yet... also the same.

"Is this more to your liking, Madam?" the fairy asked.

Taly blew out a harsh breath. "Strangely... yes. I still feel like you could kill me if you wanted to, but this is better than a giant suit of weaponized armor being powered by a ghost." Sensing that this thing wasn't going to hurt her—at least not yet—she took a tentative step forward.

"What are you exactly?" she asked as she began to circle the spirit. "You don't look like the fairies that brought me here."

The woman's head followed her, twisting at an unnatural angle. "I am the same as my brothers and sisters. I am a spirit, a manifestation of anima. However, unlike many of the fairies you will encounter here, I have chosen not to pass through the mists that separate our two realms. Your world degrades us, whereas this place preserves what is left of our generative force."

"Who were you when you were alive?" It seemed like a reasonable question to ask a ghost.

"That is not important," the fairy replied. "For now, you may call me Leto. I have been assigned to be your attendant during your stay. If there is anything you require, you need only ask."

Taly finally lowered the scissors. "My door was locked earlier. I would like to be able to leave this room."

"That is not possible."

"Why not? Am I a prisoner?"

"No," Leto answered matter-of-factly, her head still held at that impossible angle. "You are a guest of the Queen, and you will be given the freedom to roam the palace after you have spoken with Lady Raine. I apologize for any unease you may be feeling at the present moment. That is my fault. I had hoped to be here to ease the transition, but I was called away."

Taly shuddered at the thought of waking up to that hulking suit of armor looming over her bedside. "What about my weapons?" she asked, even if she already knew the answer. Her dagger, her pistols—each one a gift, a reminder of Skye. "A friend made those for me. I'd like them back."

"You will be allowed to arm yourself after you have spoken—"

"With Lady Raine." Taly scowled, tossing the scissors on a nearby table. They landed with a clatter.

"I'm so glad you understand," Leto said. Taly jumped when the fairy's body abruptly snapped back into its proper configuration. Smoke curled around her phantom form, slowly dissipating. "If that is all, Madam, I must start preparing you for tea. Your current garb is insufficient."

Taly kept a wary eye on the fairy as she was gently herded into a small dressing room, ticking off the facts in her head. She didn't know where she was, and she didn't know if there was a way out. She was unarmed and trapped inside this apartment with the ghost of a woman she didn't fully trust. She was defenseless, completely blind, and her magic—the one thing she might be able to use to protect herself—had gone quiet inside her. Not a spark, not an ember, not a single vision.

Which left her only one option. Only one way forward.

"Okay, Leto," Taly conceded, knees wobbling as she sank down onto a plush velvet settee. "You win. I guess I'm going to tea with the Time Queen." It sounded even more absurd coming out of her mouth than it had in her head.

The woman claiming to be her attendant inclined her head. "Very good, Madam," she said, drifting across the room. Her ethereal hands moved aside more panels of sheer blue gossamer, revealing yet another set of doors.

Ones Taly recognized.

That were already standing open.

Shit.

The fairy paused at the threshold, gazing into the ruined mess that used to be the closet. Shredded remains of fabric dusted the carpet, and empty hangers still swayed on the racks. Several drawers had been overturned, their contents spilled across the floor.

Leto turned, and even beneath the smooth, featureless, façade, Taly knew that the spirit wore a look of shock.

"This," the spirit clucked in a way that sounded strangely like Sarina, "may take longer than I expected."

Somehow, Taly mustered a sheepish grin, shrugging as the fairy turned and began sorting through the wreckage.