Page 2 of The Unseen Hour

It was as if the Unseen Hour took not only lives but also the light within anything it saw.

The clocks themselves refused to move so much as a second until the fog dissipated. At that point, lights flickered on and time began to move forward again into the next year.

While we had no way of knowing how long it actually lasted, the name Unseen Hour had stuck. That cursed span of time was the one of the Taking. Any who were outside succumbed to it, cursed with a terrible fate, their lives snatched away.

Every year, the watchmen emerged from their homes before the rest of the town on January first so they could collect the bodies of any unfortunate individuals taken by the hour’s curse. Each was frozen as solid as ice, no matter the weather.

We cleared away the hour’s damage and began counting down for the next year. However long it really lasted, the Unseen Hour felt as if it stretched for eternity.

There were many theories as to the hour’s origins, but none proven.

One legend said Death had gotten greedy and had chosen to take more than his due in that one hour. Another said it was a way for both gods, Day and Death, to keep mortals humble, aware always of their powerlessness against forces unseen. Still others held the citizens of Emrys and the other countries of the world responsible, viewing the hour as punishment for their actions.

It didn’t matter to me what caused it. I was determined to best it—and had been ever since the Taking struck my family three years before. Which is why I’d sneaked out into the night. If my theory was right, then we might need to endure only one more year of the Unseen Hour without Father by our side. Not that I was about to tell Ambrose such a thing.

He waved a finger under my nose.

“Celia! The next time you⁠—”

Ambrose went still, finger mid-wag, voice cutting off mid-lecture as the town clock began to sound. The clock towers of each town were carefully configured so that their tolling at the end of the year could be heard even in the most remote country manor. On this night, there was an extra warning.

It was a quarter of an hour until midnight. We were running out of time.

“Bed. Now,” Ambrose instructed, hurrying me out of the barn and into the manor house.

Once we were inside, he instructed one of the staff to secure the front doors, and then followed up the stairs after me. I didn’t bother to argue; I didn’t even remind him, as I often did, that at twenty-four I could certainly look after myself. No one, no matter how brave, wanted to be anywhere near the outdoors during the Unseen Hour. I all but sprinted toward my rooms and only resented Ambrose a little bit when I heard the click signifying he’d locked me inside. It was for my protection more than anything else.

The curtains on my windows had already been pulled shut, no doubt by a harried maid eager to finish the chore and lock herself in as well. It didn’t matter to me. I knew what was coming, even if I couldn’t see it.

Outside in the dark of night, the twelfth gong sounded.

CHAPTER 2

JANUARY

THE 99th YEAR

Icy slush threatened to seep into my brown leather boots, though they were laced up just past my ankle. I lifted my skirts as I crossed over the puddle. The outer layer of the dress was an unrelenting shade of vibrant pink, a perfect match for my eyes.

When I am managing a household of my own, I shall outlaw this wretched fabric color, I swore to myself as I continued to trudge through cobblestone streets full of mud and melting ice.

Pellix snorted, and I cast a forlorn glance back to where I’d left him tethered. It was criminal, truly, that horses weren’t allowed more places. As far as I was concerned, Pellix behaved with more chivalry than many of the noblemen in Emrys. Not that anyone was asking my opinion on equine etiquette. I supposed I should consider myself lucky that I’d been allowed to ride side-saddle into town with a formal chaperone. The way my mother described it, only a generation ago, anything but a carriage would have been out of the question, particularly with the weather as cold and dismal as it was currently.

My destination loomed over me, an imposing row of brick buildings. The one I needed was second from the left and took up several businesses’ worth of space. It also, I thought with more than a little bitterness, was unlikely to provide what I needed.

Back where Pellix was tethered, Finneas gave me a small wave as he tied off the white horse he’d ridden for the morning. He’d been one of our footmen for years, and while it meant another lecture from Mother on how just a generation ago simply a footman to accompany me would have been a scandal in and of itself, I was glad he was who she’d chosen to ride with me into town.

He followed me up the lane.

“Do you think Pellix’s shoes are looking a bit worn?” I asked him.

I knew that Finneas had taken a liking to the blacksmith’s daughter and spoke to her whenever he got new shoes for the horses. Our horses' hooves were better looked after than anyone else’s in Emrys, primarily because Finneas visited the blacksmith and skilled farrier so frequently.

He grinned.

“You’re sure you don’t need me to go with you to the library?”

“Thank you, but no. Charlotte will be meeting me there.” I was meeting one of my closest friends later, but I’d intentionally set things up so I would arrive earlier by at least a couple of hours. “Her brother will have escorted her, so I will be fine.”