by Tara Sim
Colton grabbed clean trousers on their way out. Danny was too weak to put up a fight for much longer, resting his head against Colton’s chest instead.
After a few turns, Colton found his way to the washroom. It was a metallic room with benches near the walls and three copper tubs sunk into the floor. He carefully set Danny into one of the tubs.
“It’s cold,” Danny complained, but his eyes were half-closed, his words low. He’d already used up a lot of energy. Colton hoped he wouldn’t drown in the bathwater.
“Just give me a moment.” Colton climbed into the tub to undress him completely, but Danny grunted in protest.
“You want to bathe with your trousers on?” Colton asked, arching an eyebrow.
“At least let me do it,” Danny mumbled.
It took a couple of painful minutes and some swearing, but Danny managed to disrobe himself. Panting with the exertion, he sat back and closed his eyes as Colton threw the clothes toward the nearest bench before he turned back to examine the tub’s faucet.
Colton turned a dial and a jet of water sprayed out, making him jump. It was ice-cold, and Danny yelped.
“Sorry, sorry!” Colton fiddled with the other dial until the water was too hot.
“Are you planning on boiling me alive?”
“Hold on.” Colton tried turning the dials halfway each, and the water became soothingly warm, like standing in a beam of sunshine. “There.”
He climbed out, his legs wet, and waited until the water was up to Danny’s chest before twisting the dials again to shut off the stream. The gentle sound of lapping water filled the room, and thin, hazy steam rose from the tub. Danny’s face was flushed, and he’d closed his eyes again, making sure to keep his shoulder away from the water.
They sat in silence as Danny soaked, each wrapped in their separate thoughts.
Danny eventually sighed. “I thought you weren’t speaking to me.”
“I can’t let you die. I promised your father I’d bring you home.”
Danny opened his eyes, fixing Colton with a familiar green stare. It was the look he reserved for puzzles and card games. “Is that the only reason?”
“You know it’s not.” He got up to fold Danny’s trousers.
“Are you still angry with me? I tried to stop him, Colton.”
“I know you did. Instead, you saved him.”
Danny turned his head and the water rippled. “Would you have preferred I left him to die?”
“No, of course not.” Colton set the trousers on the bench and returned to the tub, sitting cross-legged by the rim. “I know you wouldn’t stand by and let someone else suffer.”
“But I’m making you suffer,” Danny said. “I know you don’t care what happens to you if I disobey Zavier, but I do. And that’s selfish, maybe, but—”
“Danny, stop. There aren’t going to be any more bombings.”
He frowned. “What?”
Colton explained the deal he’d made with Zavier, and Danny’s mouth dropped open. As he spoke, he grabbed a nearby bar of soap, lathering it before picking up Danny’s good arm and beginning to scrub.
“But how can they get intelligence on the Builders?” Danny asked. “Do they even know where they are?”
“No, but they’ll be looking. And I agreed to help.”
“You shouldn’t get involved.”
Colton smiled ruefully. “I’m already very much involved.”
Danny grabbed the soap from him. “But what if they find out about the blood? What’ll you tell them if they ask?”
“I’m going to keep the truth from them as long as I can. I don’t want Aetas released, but …” He smoothed a lock of Danny’s hair away from his face as a drop of water rolled down his forehead. “Maybe they really will find a way to save my tower.”
“I thought …” Danny looked down at his hands, clutching the bar of soap between them. “I thought you didn’t want that.”
“I want to be with you, Danny. And that’s the truth.”
After Danny was through washing, Colton drained the tub and gently toweled him dry, Danny’s dark hair sticking up in chaotic tufts. He couldn’t stop himself from touching Danny’s warm, damp skin, from the crook of his elbow to the hollow of his throat.
Danny watched him languidly. Waiting. Anticipating. Colton leaned into him as he dried his back, eyes fixed on Danny’s lips. He touched them with a fingertip and saw them part.
But they were still so scared.
Colton helped him out of the tub and into clean trousers. Cleaned, dressed, and falling asleep, Danny easily sank into Colton’s arms as the spirit carried him back to bed. He savored this; the heat of Danny’s body, the smell of him, the soft breaths that made his chest rise and fall. Colton set him down and pulled the covers over him.
“Colton,” Danny called sleepily. “Please don’t go. You need to stay here. Keep safe.”
“I’ll be safe.” He stroked the back of his finger over Danny’s cheek. “I promise.”
Danny looked ready to protest again, but he was losing the battle with sleep.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“I’m sorry, too,” Colton whispered back.
As Danny fell asleep, Colton remembered the story he and Castor had told his sister Abi so long ago, the one about the princess trapped in her tower and the prince who fought to find her. When the prince lay wounded on the battlefield, she took up his sword and fought in his place.
He would protect Danny no matter what.
Khurja’s streets were flooded with people meandering to and from the bazaar. It made Colton feel as if he stood in the middle of a cyclone of sound, surrounded by chatter and yelling and bartering. As the only person with white skin, eyes naturally went to him, and he had to fight the urge to run into the nearest building.
What if someone knew what he was?
“Don’t worry,” said Prema. “You look very human. It’s just that you also look British.”
“I am British.”
“You know what I mean. They’ve been uneasy after the rebels tried to attack the viceroy.”
Colton frowned; it was the reason why Danny had been shot. Akash, on his left, shifted uncomfortably.
The young Indian pilot had flown Prema, Anish, and him to Khurja. Though he was still getting used to the crush of the city, Colton was fascinated by all that was for sale and wanted to take a closer look at everything. They wandered toward the heart of the city, which didn’t take long despite Colton desperately taking in everything they passed: the people, the buildings, even the sky. He’d spent most of his long life in close quarters, shuttered from the world. Now here he was, actually a part of it.
If only Danny could be at his side.
They navigated onto a smaller side street littered with trash, but full of incredible smells of food vendors peddling from wooden carts. Colton never felt hunger, but suddenly wished he could.
As they walked, they tuned their ears to the gossip around them in hopes of catching mention of the Builders. Colton grew increasingly frustrated that he didn’t understand the language. As they passed a group of women outside a small, whitewashed building, Akash’s head turned sharply, but he didn’t say what he’d overheard.
Colton sidestepped into an alley, waiting for them to follow. Anish was a silent shadow watching the street.
“What did you hear?” Colton demanded.
Akash ruffled his hair. “It’s not related, exactly, but the women were talking about the new British officers harassing people. Some women have been followed home. One has even disappeared.”
Prema frowned. “There aren’t any British officers here. They must mean the Builders. Danny said they wore some sort of uniform.”
“Do you think they’re still here?” Colton asked.
“If they are, I’m sure we’ll find them near the new tower,” Prema said.
Colton didn’t want to go near the new tower. Khurja already felt odd, like a train not completely running on
its tracks. The air smelled sharp, and the cogs, hidden by their leather cover, vibrated gently against his back.
“How do we get near it?” Akash asked. “Won’t it be guarded?”
“Almost certainly. But we’ll have to try regardless.”
It was almost evening, the azure sky gradually bleeding into crimson sunset. Prema bought food as they waited out dusk, each of them quiet and keeping to their own thoughts.
Colton couldn’t help but notice Akash’s mournful look. Finally, he turned and asked, “Do you fancy Daphne?”
Akash’s eyes widened. “What?”
“You really upset everyone with what you did. I should be upset with you, too, but … I’ve learned that you can’t change what’s in the past. The important thing is what you intend to do in the future. So, do you fancy her?”
Akash looked away. “I … yes. I do.”
“Then do you plan on helping Danny and me, or do you plan on helping Zavier?”
“You. Of course you.” Akash lowered his voice, darting a quick glance at Prema, who was watching the street with Anish.
“Do you think Aetas should be freed?”
Akash fiddled with his goggles. “I don’t know. It seems like something the ghadi wallahs ought to figure out among themselves. What Zavier says makes sense, but it also seems wrong. And if Meena and Daphne don’t like it, I trust their judgment.”
“I think you’re a good person, Akash. Just make sure Daphne sees it, all right? She can be stubborn.”
“You say that as if I don’t already know,” Akash mumbled.
“And thank you. For helping Danny in Prague.”
“I wasn’t—” Akash thought over his words before continuing. “I didn’t do it to make up for not helping him in the durbar. I helped Danny because he’s my friend.”
“I know.” They shared a small smile before Prema stood, dusting off her hands.
“It’s getting dark,” she said. “Shall we?”
The clearing where the tower stood had guards posted at every street. Colton and the others stood to the side to survey the scene. The wrongness felt strongest here. Colton rubbed his arms and made a face, feeling a prickle between his shoulder blades. It was … bitter. That was the only way he could describe it.
“How ugly,” Prema remarked, her voice the perfect match for the darkness settling over Khurja. “That’s the best they could do?”
The tower was short and squat, built of a simple, rough limestone. Instead of a spire on top, they’d used brown shingles. The solitary clock face was small and had no numerals, only hands.
“They were in a hurry, looks like,” Akash said.
Colton could only stare in distaste. It was more an imitation of a clock tower, any chance of grace or beauty replaced with an almost industrial-like minimalism. The bitterness in the air emanated from the tower—if it could even be called that—and skittered over the cogs he wore. He took a step back and shook his head. “I don’t want to go in there,” he said.
“You made an agreement with Zavier,” Prema reminded him. “Don’t worry, I’ll go with you.”
“But how do we get past the guards?” Akash nodded toward the clearing. There were three total, two white and one Indian, all carrying long guns. Colton wondered what would happen if they shot him. He wouldn’t bleed, he knew that much, but would he still die?
The memories rose again and he closed his eyes, hand grasping at his throat.
“Colton, are you all right?”
No, he was not all right. If it was as he suspected, the horrible tower before them was a grave marker.
Come.
His eyes snapped open. That voice— What?
Who are you?
He gaped at the tower. It couldn’t be … but somehow it was. The spirit was sensing him, reaching out.
What sort of strength did this spirit possess to do such a thing?
“We need a diversion,” Prema said. “Then Colton and I can run in through that door in the front.”
“And how do you propose to get back out?” Akash asked.
“We’ll have to be very, very fast.”
Akash and Anish doubled back, finding a roundabout path to end up on the street opposite Prema and Colton. They waited for a couple of tense minutes, Prema chewing on a thumbnail, as the sky overhead dimmed.
Colton was still rattled. Before he could reach out to the spirit again, a red flare flashed across the clearing. The three guards called out as they ran for the street where Akash and Anish had set off the flare.
“Go!” Prema pulled Colton’s arm and they sprinted to the tower, the power intensifying as they drew closer. Prema tried the door. Locked.
“Hold on.” Colton banged on the wood until it cracked. He reached in and undid the lock, and they hurried inside. Prema closed the door and they were plunged into darkness.
Not total darkness; a faint glow came from the small flight of wooden stairs. Prema gestured him to go ahead of her. Bracing himself, fighting the urge to run back outside, he took the steps slowly.
His body shivered and his hands jerked. Being in Big Ben’s tower had never been like this. There, he’d felt stronger, like he could do anything. Here, it was as though the power was rejecting him.
A platform had been built before a small pendulum. The clockwork and gear train rose high above, attached to the pole turning the clock’s hands. Colton watched the solemn movement of the cogs, his own vibrating faster.
Turning, he came face-to-face with a young woman.
He backed up a few steps. The young woman’s nose was slightly too big for her face, but her body was petite. She had dull copper-colored skin, light brown hair, and eyes like his—amber-gold.
They stared at each other. The young woman cocked her head to one side, and he did the same.
“Who are you?” she repeated.
“I’m … like you. I think. My name is Colton. What’s yours?”
Her eyes shifted as she tried to remember. “Lalita.”
“Lalita. It’s a pretty name.” She smiled shyly. “May I ask you some questions?” His voice was calm, but everything in him told him to run. He wanted to forget Zavier, forget India, but he couldn’t abandon the others. He was doing this for Danny, not himself.
Lalita nodded. Colton studied her pitiful tower again, fighting back a curse.
He remembered Akash’s remark about a missing woman and shuddered.
“How long have you been here?” he asked.
“I do not know.”
“Do you have any memories? Dreams, maybe?”
She shook her head. “No. No memories. I am just Lalita, and I’ve always been here. Where do you come from?”
Colton spared a glance at Prema, who stood gawking to one side. “A long way away.”
“Can I go places, too?” She looked up at the clock face. “I would like to go outside, but it feels bad when I do. I become very weak.”
He toyed with the idea of telling her to take apart her own clockwork, rip out her central cog. But that would Stop Khurja, and he couldn’t be responsible for that. Not after Enfield.
“I wouldn’t recommend it,” he said. “Lalita, I have just one more question. Has anyone come into your tower? Besides us, I mean.”
The young woman tilted her head again. Colton almost did, too, then caught himself.
“A few people,” she said at last. “They wear funny clothes, all one piece, with belts and big boots. One is a woman. She came a lot, but she’s not here anymore.”
Colton nodded, then turned to Prema. “Is that enough?”
Prema blinked and cleared her throat. “I … thought you didn’t speak Hindi.”
“I don’t.”
“She’s speaking Hindi. And you’re answering in the same language.”
“Am I?” He touched his throat. He hadn’t been able to understand anyone on the streets, but he could understand Lalita just fine. Perhaps there was no set tongue among clock spirits; time had no language barrier
s.
“Lalita.” He took her hands in his. “I’m so sorry. I wish I could help you.”
She looked confused. “Help?”
“Just …” He squeezed her hands. “I’m sorry.”
Prema peered down the stairs. “We need to leave. I think I hear voices.”
Khurja’s clock spirit didn’t try to stop them, but she looked sad about them leaving. Colton thought about her blood staining the ground this tower was built upon. Had they ripped her throat open? Had they plunged a knife into her body, too?
He wanted to ask her more. He wanted to know what the Builders had done to make Lalita powerful enough to worm her way into his mind.
“Colton, hurry!” Prema urged.
He glanced once more at the spirit before following Prema down. They paused at the door, listening for guards on the other side. Through the crack he’d made, Colton saw movement.
“Ready?” Prema pushed the door open. “Run!”
Zavier leaned against the wall, gray eyes leveled at Colton as Prema debriefed him about the new Khurja tower. Colton didn’t meet his gaze. Instead, he looked around the office, adorned with few personal touches. A book of Greek myths rested on the bookshelf, and Colton’s fingers twitched to open it.
“So she had no recollection,” Zavier repeated. “Like she’d been born out of nothing. And yet Colton was able to speak to her in Hindi.”
“I didn’t know I could do that,” he said in his defense.
“But you knew you could break the door.”
Colton rolled his eyes and looked away.
“Clock spirits are strong,” Zavier murmured, touching his still-bruised throat. “The question is, how strong?”
Zavier went to his desk, jotting something on a piece of paper. “None of the clock spirits remember how they were made, but this one was just there, and made her own bubble of time around Khurja. How? The Maldon tower built last year didn’t work—it had no spirit. So how did the Builders manage it?”
He glanced up at Colton again, but this time Colton didn’t look away.
“The spirit said there was a woman who came often,” Zavier mumbled, tapping his pen against the paper, leaving behind blotches of ink. “And we saw a woman with the Builders when they tried to take Danny and the others. Are they the same?”