There was just barely room enough for the seventeen-year-old to squeeze in among the gears and the big brass pendulum that oscillated back and forth, ticking off the seconds in the clock's eternal war against Time.  Of course, the pendulum was still and silent now.<br/><br/>The door creaked behind her, and closed with an audible click.  And then, there was simply darkness, and the sense of confined space.<br/><br/>After awhile, Jude heard the sound of footsteps approaching.  They seemed to stop just outside the clock.  They were joined, shortly, by another set of footsteps, which were much heavier, much louder, and had a metallic jostle, like that of many metal rings. A voice, deep and rich and baritone, yet with a slight tinny echo, spoke.<br/><br/>"We are running out of time, m'Lord.  Even now the Blight advances."<br/><br/>"Patience, Xander," answered another voice, presumably the owner of the first footsteps.  "I have beckoned the Princess. She will come."<br/><br/>"I hope so, m'Lord.  The Allswell Barrens have already fallen to the Black Forces."<br/><br/>"She will come," insisted the second voice.  This one was lighter, a pleasant tenor, and even muffled through the wood of the clock case door it sounded vaguely familiar. Jude couldn't place it, but she knew she'd heard that voice before, somewhere.<br/><br/>"Very well, m'Lord.<em>Seelie l'yeng'an tor.</em>"<br/><br/>The heavy, metallic footsteps trod away into silence, leaving, presumably, only the second speaker, the one that had struck Jude as familiar.<br/><br/>