by Tara Sim
“When’s the wedding?”
Daphne sat across from them, looking between them with a faintly amused set to her mouth.
“June,” Colton said. Danny blushed, unable to tell if he was joking or not.
“I guess you two made up.” She cradled a mug of tea between her hands. “I can practically see little hearts forming in the air above you.”
Danny looked away while Colton laughed brightly. The sound was different outside his tower; it held less humming power. It was more human. “She’s just jealous,” Colton said, brushing his thumb against the sensitive underside of his wrist.
Daphne rolled her eyes. “It’s about time you two were talking again.”
Danny snuck a glance at Colton and was a little surprised to find the clock spirit doing the same. They both smiled sheepishly and looked away.
“I didn’t even need to bother with sugar in my tea,” Daphne grumbled. “Danny, your hair’s a mess.”
“It’s always a mess,” he argued.
“More than usual. Why don’t you let me cut it for you?”
He blinked. “You know how to cut hair?”
“I’ve cut the hair for a neighbor’s son a few times, and my mother’s.” Her voice softened on the last word. “I won’t make you look ridiculous, if that’s what you’re worried about. Well, no more ridiculous.”
“Har.” His hair was irritating him lately; it kept falling into his eyes. “All right, why not.”
“Good. Come along, then.” She stood.
“What, right now?”
Colton nudged him. “Go on. I’ll read the book in your room.”
Danny made to stand, but Colton grabbed the back of his neck and planted a firm kiss on his mouth first. Edmund, Liddy, Jo, and Ivor started cheering at a nearby table. Danny broke away, his face hot enough to melt iron.
Daphne shook her head with an “are you done?” look on her face.
Danny cleared his throat and followed her out, glancing over his shoulder at Colton, who waved cheerily.
Charlotte loaned them a pair of scissors, and they continued on to Daphne’s room. Meena was knocking on the door when they arrived.
“Oh, there you are.” She saw the scissors. “What’s this?”
“We’re cutting Danny’s hair.”
“Ooh!”
Danny didn’t know why this was such an exciting event, but the girls seemed content to fuss over him, so he sat back in a chair and let his eyes glaze over. Meena tugged on a lock.
“You have very good hair. Nice and thick.”
“Er …”
“It’s a compliment,” Daphne said, comparing the length of different strands. “Now, sit still.”
When she made the first snip, he jerked. She tsked and swatted his arm.
“You are afraid of me cutting your hair!”
“I’m not! I just haven’t had it cut in a while.”
Meena sat on the bed and watched them, grinning. “Should I gasp and make faces so Danny knows how funny he looks?”
“That will be quite unnecessary,” Daphne said, cutting another strand.
Danny sighed and closed his eyes. He remembered sitting on a large kitchen chair as a child while his mother toyed with his hair, complaining about how it remained obstinately messy no matter what she did with it. She had even cut it as short as possible once, to his and his father’s horror, but it had only grown out as much a mess as ever.
Still, the feeling of his mother combing his hair with her fingers and her familiar scent of perfume and cigarette smoke had soothed him. He almost thought he could smell it now, but realized it was only Daphne’s bergamot.
“Danny,” Daphne said softly behind him, “what did Colton see? In Khurja?”
He opened his eyes. Meena’s smile was gone. He thought back to what Colton had told him the night before.
“It was terrible, Danny,” Colton had whispered, his voice nearly lost in the inky darkness of the room. Danny had only been able to make out a blue silhouette and the soft glow of amber eyes. “The new tower was … it wasn’t right, barely even a clock tower. It had all the parts—I don’t know how they made them so quickly—but it almost had no life to it.”
Danny had traced the curve of Colton’s neck to his shoulder. “Was there a spirit?”
“Yes.” Colton closed his eyes. “A young woman had gone missing in Khurja right before the tower was built. I saw her in the tower. The spirit seemed to … reach out to me, somehow, as if her words were in my mind. She didn’t know how she’d gotten there, just like me in my tower. I had no memories when I was made into this. It was like being born again, starting with an empty slate.”
“Tabula rasa,” Danny had murmured.
He’d watched Colton’s eyes lower, the gentle silence rolling over them with a promise that it wouldn’t be gentle for long.
“I used to be alive,” Colton had whispered. “I used to be so much more than I am now.”
Danny’s hand had tightened on his arm. “Don’t say that.”
But the silence had stretched again, long and dark like a shadow in autumn.
“They can’t keep doing this,” Colton had said eventually. “Someone has to stop them.”
Which made the difficult situation that much more complicated. If Aetas were freed, the clock spirits would disappear. If he wasn’t, clock mechanics would die.
And Danny and Colton were caught right in the middle.
Danny told the girls what Colton had shared, and what had happened in Dürnstein. Daphne stopped cutting to listen, and Meena’s face grew hard.
“They might do the same thing in Prague, don’t you think?” Daphne asked.
“Maybe,” he said, “but Zavier’s right that the people might not let them. That’s what Colton overheard, too.”
“It’s still a possibility.” Meena touched her burnt cheek. “I wonder if they’ll try to build a new tower in Meerut as well.” Her eyes were pinched, likely thinking about Aditi. “Colton is right: we have to stop them.”
“But how? Zavier won’t let us do anything. Hang on …” Daphne came around to face Danny. “How did all the spirits start remembering their past at once? Colton said the spirit in Dürnstein did, too. He remembered an axe.”
“Maybe because of what Zavier’s doing,” Danny said. “When he destroyed that first tower using Aetas’s power, it could have triggered something in the spirits. We’ve already seen how much they seem to be connected to one another.”
They speculated a little more, then fell into silence broken only by the occasional snip of the scissors. Danny watched dark clumps fall on either side of him, crumbling away the foundation of who he’d built himself into over the last few months, trying to chip him back into the Danny he once was.
But he didn’t think that was possible anymore.
“All done.” Daphne made him stand and turn toward the small mirror above her dresser. He almost didn’t recognize himself. He did look a bit more as he once had, but there was something else there, too. Something in the shadow of his cheekbones, in the curve of his eyes.
“You look very handsome,” Meena assured him.
“Yes,” Daphne agreed, rubbing a hand over his head to shake off loose hairs. “I think Colton will like it.”
She shared a smile with Meena, but Danny only stared at his reflection, thinking how much he looked like his father.
Danny didn’t have time to ask if Colton liked the haircut. As soon as he was through the door, Colton pounced on him.
“You didn’t—even—look,” Danny said between kisses.
Colton leaned back for a second. “It’s nice,” he said, pressing Danny against the door.
He had no idea if clock spirits had … urges, but whatever drove Colton now, Danny couldn’t complain. They fell to the bed laughing and fumbling, but Danny put a hand on Colton’s arm to stop him when he moved to undo his shirt.
“You got to undress me last night,” he said. “I want to do it this time.”
Colton looked surprised, but he sat back on his knees. Suddenly he seemed uncertain.
“I told you I can’t feel anything. Not like that.”
“I know. But I want to see you.”
Colton smiled softly. Danny removed the cog holder, both of them watching for any signs of weakness. Colton was all right so long as it was beside them. Danny slowly unbuttoned his vest—a vest he’d taken from Danny—and then the shirt underneath.
As soon as he slid them off Colton’s shoulders, he gasped. Colton’s right side bore a long scar, red and ropy from underarm to hip.
“How did that happen?” he whispered. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It happened when my tower was hit. It’s not very painful at the moment.”
Zavier had told him that Indian rebels had hit Colton’s tower to Stop Enfield’s time, therefore stopping the production of rifles. Danny touched the scar and Colton flinched.
Being as gentle as possible, he laid Colton down. “I promise I’ll fix your tower. We’ll make it beautiful, hire the best architects, and people will come from all over just to wonder at it.” He kissed up the twisted scar, lips barely brushing it, as he touched the central cog with reverent fingers. “We’ll find a way.”
Colton watched Danny a moment, eyes unreadable. Then he flipped Danny over and pressed their noses together.
“I know we will.”
It was a little awkward, with Danny’s arm in a sling. They tried moving around, but most positions made him hiss in pain.
“Come here,” Colton said, lying flat on his back.
Danny uneasily straddled him. “Like this?”
“Yes.” Colton’s eyes shone. He ran his hands over Danny’s chest and stomach, over his thighs. Colton’s skin was like sun-warmed satin under Danny’s fingertips.
Danny closed his eyes to focus on the sweet and aching sensation. He tried not to be tense, tried to act as if this was all very natural. They’d done this before. But not like this, when Colton could look up at him and gauge his every reaction. When nothing could be hidden. Danny flushed as Colton met his eyes. As Colton’s fingers found their mark. He gasped and rocked forward.
“Yes?” Colton asked.
Breathless, he nodded and pressed his good hand to the wall behind the bed. Time was nothing while Danny was caught between his hands, being teased and being adored and being delirious with it all.
He arched his back and made a sound as if he were becoming undone. And he was—the corkscrew spiral of sensation was winding tighter, threatening to unravel for several feverish seconds until, finally, it did.
When he climbed down from the high, he was surprised by how tired he was. Colton was clutching his hips.
“Was that all right?” Colton asked. His eyes were even brighter, sparks of golden flint.
Danny tumbled over a breathy laugh and lay beside him. His body was pulsing and hot and heavy. Colton pulled him in closer, kissing his neck.
“More than all right,” Danny murmured. He twined his fingers into Colton’s hair, his lips drifting across the spirit’s skin in constellations of his own making. Being so near him made Danny dizzy with want, so full of affection his chest could barely contain it. Without warning, his eyes burned, and he closed them tight to keep hold of this feeling a little longer, so that Colton wouldn’t see just how badly he craved him.
They had enough pain.
He lay with his head tucked under Colton’s chin. Colton traced little circles on his shoulder. With one hand curled over Colton’s hip, he thought this might be what normal felt like.
“Where did you even learn that?” Danny asked sleepily. He’d always been surprised by Colton’s knowledge, but a clock spirit had a lot of time to kill, and his natural curiosity had likely led him to peek into the secret lives of Enfield lovers.
But Colton’s silence hinted at something more. Danny remembered the memories he’d seen, the ones Colton had transferred to him.
“Oh.”
Colton sat up. “Danny …” He swept a newly cut lock of hair from Danny’s forehead. “It was a very long time ago. Castor’s gone.”
Castor. The tall boy with chestnut hair and brown eyes, an easy sense of humor, and natural charisma. The boy who was everything he wasn’t.
Danny thought about those revealing memories, each one making a small nick in his already wounded chest.
“You still love him.”
Colton’s eyes widened, but he didn’t reply.
“Then what the hell am I?” he murmured. “A replacement.”
He regretted the words as soon as they were spoken, and wondered why he had bothered to speak them at all. But thinking back to those intimate memories he had glimpsed, he couldn’t ignore the way they poked into him like needles.
“How can you say that? That’s not true.” Colton turned his gaze away. “Besides, what does it matter? I don’t even know what happened to him. Or my sister. Or my parents. They’re all dead. Long gone.” There was a frightening distance in Colton’s expression. “He was left behind, while I …”
Colton paused to gather his words. “I don’t know how he could stand it, after. He saw me dragged away. Probably saw my body, too. He certainly saw that tower and knew what it meant. I didn’t want to leave him.” He cradled the side of Danny’s face. “Just like I don’t want to leave you.”
Danny put his hand on top of Colton’s. He wanted to forget the whole thing, to apologize, change the topic to something lighter. But it had latched on, draining his happiness like a leech. He couldn’t forget the look in Castor’s eyes, or the way Colton’s heart had once beat faster at the sight of him.
Danny held Colton’s hand tighter. “But you still love him.” Colton turned away again. “If we were standing side by side, me and him, who would you even choose?”
“That’s not fair,” Colton said in a voice so fierce that Danny dropped his hand. “How could I ever make a choice like that? I’ve already … I’ve caused you both so much pain. Pain I can’t undo.” He buried his face in his hands. “I can’t do anything to make it better, and I’m just going to keep hurting you.”
Danny sat up, hating himself. “Colton, no. You’re not hurting me.”
“I can’t forget how I felt about him, but that doesn’t mean—”
“I know. I’m sorry. I’m an idiot.” He pried Colton’s hands away and laid Colton’s head on his uninjured shoulder. “You’re not hurting me, I promise.”
“I am. I will.”
“You aren’t. You won’t.” He pressed his lips to the top of Colton’s head, splaying a hand against his back, smooth and warm. “I don’t know what came over me. Forgive me. Please.”
Colton touched his fingers to Danny’s wound, circling the bullet scar underneath it, both inches from Danny’s heart.
“I always do.”
The Prometheus hovered over the Indian Ocean. Whenever another airship could be seen in the distance or a sea ship came into sight down below, one of the pilots would simply drift upward, losing the ship among the clouds. Daphne liked to watch this maneuver from the observation deck, standing before the glass wall as the ocean disappeared and they were suddenly surrounded by white.
It was a good place to think, and that’s what she most needed to do. It seemed everyone aboard the Prometheus was thinking—especially Zavier, who sought intelligence from contacts in Meerut and Prague. No new towers yet, but Builders had been spotted in both cities.
The only ones who didn’t seem to be furiously lost in planning were Danny and Colton. She knew they both needed the distraction, and it was refreshing to see them finally together. Still, it sometimes aggravated her to see their silly smiles when the world was cracking around them.
They ate in the mess hall most mornings. Meena joined them, though Akash was suspiciously absent. Meena told her it was because he didn’t feel comfortable around the others yet, but Daphne had glimpsed him talking to Danny and Colton in the corridors on several occasio
ns.
So it’s just me, she thought with a pinch of guilt.
It would be a relief to be able to speak to him again. But something held her back—pride, anger, she didn’t know.
“People who can’t forgive other people usually can’t forgive themselves,” Meena said loftily at the mess table one morning.
Daphne snorted. “What am I forgiving myself for? Being righteously angry?”
“I’m the one who got shot,” Danny cut in. “And I’ve forgiven him.”
“Good for you. Go get me tea.”
“You’ve just had tea!”
“Get me some more.”
Danny rolled his eyes and let go of Colton’s hand. As he walked to the kitchen, she noticed Colton’s eyes on his backside.
“You’re incorrigible,” she said. The spirit grinned. “Anyway, that’s not the most pressing issue here. What do you think Zavier’s going to do, now? Focus on stopping the Builders or freeing Aetas?”
“Daphne,” Meena groaned, “I’ve barely finished breakfast. Can we talk about this later?”
“This isn’t a vacation,” Daphne snapped. “All of our lives are at risk.”
Colton fiddled with the teacup in front of him. He couldn’t drink any of its contents, but he hated being the only person not eating, so Danny had taken to giving him tea. “If Aetas is free, we won’t have to worry about the Builders.”
“But what if they can still build the towers, even if time comes back?”
“I don’t think it works that way,” Colton said. “I think Aetas’s hold on time is too strong for that. It was only after he died—I mean, Chronos imprisoned him—that building the towers worked. Even if your blood—”
“Hey.” Danny had returned with Daphne’s tea. “No talking about that here.”
“Sorry. Even if you-know-what can still tamper with you-know-what, I don’t think it would be strong enough to control a whole city.”
“Maybe.” Daphne looked down at her cup. “But we can’t take any chances.”
She felt antsy, like she needed to run. Her fingers started tapping on her thighs as she walked to the observation deck. What she wouldn’t give to be in London right now, to stick a cigarette in her mouth and take off on her motorbike. To be somewhere, anywhere, but here.