Page 90 of Fated to the Wicked King

A high-pitched abrasive screech pealed everywhere.

Everyone on the forest floor cringed.

I winced at the brief sting.

Grimacing, Tannis put his hands to his ears.

“Almost there.” Watching the gauges as the Hatter tweaked inside the machine, I carefully turned a few dials.

A wave of nausea ripped through me. The machine’s indicators all flicked dangerously red for a few moments. My body phased in and out of existence even as the readings bounced up and down. “Aah—” I grunted at the pain that was pressing against every side of my head.

“It’s doing it again,” the General barked. For some reason, he wasn’t affected by whatever the Hatter was tinkering with.

I narrowed my eyes. The General was clutching at something under his collar, as though for reassurance. Some kind of tarnished, ornate gear talisman was laced around his neck.

Another vague sense of recognition washed over me.

That necklace. Was it providing the General with protection against the phenomenal forces being put out by the machine? Was it the reason why all the ghosts, the villagers, and the Hatter, had all been affected in some way—except for him?

My pulse began to race.

There was a soft beep as everything stabilized.

Panting, I braced my hand against the metal panel, my body phasing back into its solid state. “There. That should reduce the impact altogether.”

The General couldn’t help but laugh. “Dr. Carter, as usual, you are a marvel.”

“We had trouble with the Harmonious Whirligig,” the Hatter continued to mumble to himself. “At first, the machine would start up fine, then after eighty-four percent warm-up, everything came to a grinding halt.”

A vague notion clicked in my head.

The Hatter was the key to all this.

I didn’t need to stop the General.

I needed to contain the Hatter.

Without the Hatter, the General would be virtually powerless.

The General had said so himself. He understood none of the science. It was highly likely he was only used to giving orders, not understanding them. All I needed to do was take the Hatter out of the equation.

Out of the corner of my eye, something in the machine’s innards gleamed.

It was an F-capacitor.

The final component I needed to complete my invention.

My heart pounded in my chest. I had to move fast.

“Look, the Sprockets are coming loose!” I gestured upward to the other side of the panel, before ducking under the metal shielding once again to work the capacitor loose from its installation.

I supposed my brilliant distraction technique wasn’t too brilliant.

“Hey.” The Hatter noticed. “What are you doing?”

Alarmed, I grabbed the handful of wires and hastily ripped them out. Then, jumping up, I ran for the console to configure an energy pocket.

“Hey!” the General yelled at my sudden movement.