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“The honor of creation is yours. The honor of owning this wonder is mine. You have made yourself immortal in clockdom, Finn.”

“Well, hardly, sire.”

“Did I say immortal, boy?”

“Sire, I believe you did.”

“To say otherwise is to contradict the King.”

“I know he didn't mean that,” Letitia said. “He's good with his hands, but he's not real proficient with the spoken word, sire.”

“He's not,” Julia said. “I can vouch for that.”

“Indeed?” The King raised a curious brow. “Never taken a lizard's vouch before. I suppose it's all right. At any rate-You”-he waved at anyone at all-”you will proceed with this now.”

Two servants, plainly clad in the drab uniform of the Gracious Dead, came quickly and offered the King a velvet box. The box was clearly quite heavy, for it took the pair to set it down.

“Now, both of you, get the thing out here, what do you think I hire you for?”

The two servants lifted. And, it was indeed weighty, for they breathed hard, and the veins stood out upon their brows.

“Your Grace!” Finn was astonished, truly speechless for a time. Letitia muttered something in the Mycer tongue, which she rarely did at all.

The thing that arose from the box was a chain, a golden chain, with links Finn was sure would anchor a ship of good size. Each of these monstrous links was encrusted with gems of every sort-rubies, sapphires, diamonds and such-many gems that Finn couldn't name.

At the end of this chain was a resplendent circle of gold. A large green stone lay at its center, and small diamonds cluttered about the edge.

“Seems a bit heavy,” said the King. “I expect these fellows would be grateful if you bent for just a moment, to allow them to get it on.”

Finn did as he was told. With a great deal of heavy breathing, and fussing about, the men wrested the loop over Finn's broad shoulders. Julia leaped into Letitia's lap not a moment too soon.

Finn gasped, and caught himself before he fell to his knees. The King began to clap again, and the crowd began to cheer. Finn tried not to stagger, made a great effort not to sag. The thing surely weighed a good eighty pounds, and came down to his knees.

“Looks good on you, Finn.” The King stepped back and grinned.

“I am overwhelmed, sire.”

“I shouldn't wonder. That's a Ninety-Fifth Degree decoration you're wearing there. We only go to ninety-six. Here. You need to read it. It's hand engraved, you know.”

With some degree of effort, Finn lifted the great pen dant that hung below his knees. It read, in florid script, enameled in lilac and blue:

THE HUMAN PERSON NAMED FINN IS HEREBY GRANTED THE TITLE OF GRAND

MASTER OF MECHANICAL OBJECTS, GEARS AND VARIOUS PARTS, AN HONOR OF THE

NINETY-FIFTH ORDER, BY COMMAND OF MYSELF, LLOWENKEEF-GRYMM, KING OF HELDESSIA LAND

“I am honored,” Finn said. “I scarcely know what to say.”

“Words won't suffice, I shouldn't think,” the King said, rising from his gilded chair. “Here, come with me. You too, Miss, and lizard, as well.”

Without another word, Llowenkeef-Grymm stalked across the Great Hall, scattering courtiers aside.

Finn looked at Letitia, and Letitia looked back. Neither, with the slightest idea of what might be coming next.

Finn gathered the loops of his fine decoration and kept up as well as he could. The King didn't pause until he reached a small, arched door, set neatly within the wall.

“The family doesn't take part in these events. Isn't good for those louts to see too many royals at a time. A lot of them faint. We had a fellow die.”

“I can see that,” Finn said.

“You keep saying that, you'll stir up my ire, Finn. You couldn't possibly comprehend even half of what I'm saying, don't pretend you can.”

“I certainly won't, sire.”

Llowenkeef-Grymm waved him off, clearly annoyed, a mood which seemed to strike him at any given time.

“At any rate, you'll get to meet the royals. We'll all be dead again soon, so there isn't much time.”

Finn started to speak, but Letitia shook her head in warning.

The King threw open the door, then, and Finn suddenly understood. He didn't have to count. He knew there'd be ten, plus the King himself. Eleven. Minus one, and he was thankful for that. Still, nearly the entire congregation of the Deeply Entombed. The only true believers in the world, and they were all gathered here. Each and every one in the rags, snags, tatters and snips, bound, wrapped, happily trapped in the drear and dusty shrouds of the fashionable dead.

Huddled together, they appeared to be a great dust bunny, swept from under a giant's untidy bed. Finn met them all, overweight uncles and undersized aunts, nieces, nephews, beady-eyed cousins, and two old men who shared the same shroud. Finn hoped they weren't joined in some horrid manner, and didn't want to ask.

Then, when all was done, Finn breathed a great sigh of relief, grateful again that the one royal member he dreaded to see had failed to appear. He could clearly see every smudgy feature, every sooty nose, and she clearly wasn't there. Count all you like and there were still only ten “You must forgive me, Father dear, for I had a hundred tiresome little chores. There's no rest for a princess of the realm, I cannot call my life my own… “

She stopped, halfway from the door across the room, paused, hesitated, tarried in a manner, then realigned her bodily parts in a posture that was likely illegal somewhere, bit her saucy lip and blinked at Finn.

“Finn, you sweet man, what a marvelous surprise, I had no idea we'd be together again so soon!”

Finn's prayer to die failed. The earth didn't part and swallow him up. Indeed, nothing seemed to work at all. Instead, Fate flung DeFloraine-Marie into his arms, where she pressed herself against him in a most indecent manner, kissed him on the mouth, pushed him away, and smiled at Letitia Louise.

“I'm glad we could finally meet. Finn has said so much about you. I think Mycer girls are prettier than any of your kind. I'm DeFloraine-Marie, Princess of Heldessia Land. My mother's in the Afterworld, but Father's such a dear. Do make Finn take off that terrible chain before he holds you again. I expect it left bruises everywhere on me.”

“Finn. I need to talk to you.”

He didn't look at Letitia, he didn't have to. “You really don't, my dear. It only seems like you do, and I quite understand how things might appear when they're actually not as they seem at all.”

“I'm relieved to hear that, Finn.”

“Well, then,” said the King, somewhat puzzled by this display. “So you and Master Finn have met, my dear?”

“Oh, we have, Father.”

How can she possibly look so lovely in a garment made of lint?

“We'll be having refreshments, now,” said the King. “Black ale and sogcake, you know. We shall all be returning to the dead persuasion after this, and we usually have a little snack.”

“Thank you, sire, but I feel Letitia and I-”

“Oh, no, you can't have any, boy. This stuff's sanctified. Just thought you'd like to watch.”

“Do stay, Finn.” DeFloraine hung on her father's arm, looking limp and lazy-eyed. “And the Newlie too. She would enjoy it as well.”

“How very kind,” Letitia said. “I feel it would be too exciting for me. Finn? I'm leaving. Do as you please.”

She turned and was gone, Julia rattling in her wake.

Finn was sure he heard thunder in her path. “If I may, sire. I'll leave you and your family to your personal rites. I trust you will all have a, ah-most enjoyable burial, passing, confinement, whatever you desire, and I trust I am not committing any breach of manners if I wish you a pleasant demise.”

“Your intentions are likely good, but your sentiments are disgusting, Finn. Blasphemy, desecration, it's downhill from there.

“You make a damn fine clock, sir, I have to say that. Why, I could watch those little eyes go back and forth all day. You didn't molest, abuse, debase or defile my daughter in any way, did you, Finn? Any nonsense like that?”