by Tara Sim
“Just promise you’ll sing for us when we bring Mr. Hart back,” Harris said with a weak smile. He blamed himself for Danny’s disappearance. Crosby had been short with him, and Partha could often be found by his side, concern written in the slant of his eyebrows. Daphne wanted to tell the poor man that there was nothing he could have done, but she knew he wouldn’t listen.
She led Colton to the abandoned room, instructing him that he couldn’t leave under any circumstances. She would lock the door behind her, and keep the key so that no one could get inside. Colton listened in silence, expressionless as he took in the empty, dusty room.
“I’m sorry to leave you here alone, but I promise I’ll come often. We have to be careful now. Until we find Danny, you’re not safe here.” And even if we do find him.
“But when will that be?” Colton asked. “When will they find him?”
“I don’t know, Colton. The major sent out search parties, so maybe we’ll learn something by the end of the week.”
But by the end of the week, there was still no news. Wires had been sent to every major city, to every senior officer who wasn’t currently preparing for the Queen’s celebration in Delhi. They would send back word if they learned anything. Strangely, no wires had been sent to London.
“Surely Danny’s parents ought to be told,” Daphne said to the major.
Dryden coughed into his fist. “You must understand, my dear, that we are responsible for your life, as well as Mr. Hart’s. If word were to get out, there would be an inquiry that would slow our progress. I’m sure we’ll find him in a jiff.”
By the end of the second week, there was still no news.
Daphne begged more cigarettes off Partha. He gave her a disapproving frown even as he handed them over. She slipped him an anna and lit up in her room, needing to settle her nerves somehow.
Two weeks turned into three. Three into four. They were well into December now, and Christmas was around the corner. Daphne asked if the major would finally send a wire to London, but Dryden bumbled through a response that amounted to, “No, not yet.”
To make matters worse, another tower had fallen, this one in Edava, a small town to the south. Daphne begged the major to let her go, but he said he couldn’t risk it.
Meena and Akash were the only reason Daphne wasn’t tearing out her hair. They stayed in their Agra home most days, but often came to the cantonment to see her. The burn on Meena’s cheek was healing, but it would scar.
Akash looked worn thin. One day, Daphne sat him down and asked if he was taking care of himself.
“My needs do not come first. Besides, I know this is hard for you.”
If it was hard for her, it was impossible for Colton. Every time Daphne went to see him, he was sitting preternaturally still, vacant-eyed and quiet. That worried her more than anything else.
She brought him books from the British soldiers, but he barely touched them. He spent his time wrapped up in his own thoughts, his own nightmares.
But Daphne was used to speaking to someone who had become withdrawn.
“Colton,” she tried one day, “please talk to me? It’ll be easier if you shared your troubles with someone. I know you’re upset, but we’re doing all we can. We’ll find Danny, or he’ll come back on his own. He’s strong, remember? He saved you. He saved Enfield.”
The spirit looked at her then. Really looked at her. She was stunned at the level of pain within his amber eyes. It was like falling through an endless hole, never knowing if you would ever reach the bottom.
“He saved me,” Colton agreed, “but I can’t save him.”
“Don’t say that.”
He stood, walking toward the small window at the back of the room. “I’ve been thinking. What if I made myself known? What if the people who took Danny could have me, too?”
“What? No. Absolutely not.”
“They wanted me, obviously, or they wouldn’t have sent that letter. I could take his place.”
“Don’t be absurd.”
Colton clenched and unclenched his hand. “Why is it absurd?”
“It’s more dangerous for you than it is for him!”
Colton turned away in vexation, grabbing the wooden chair beside him and throwing it at the wall. It splintered with a loud crash, and Daphne flinched.
“How can it be more dangerous for me when I’m already—?” He cut himself off, trembling, then sat on the dusty bed and crossed his arms as if he wanted to shrink in on himself and disappear.
Daphne stood there, slightly afraid, wondering what to do. As she took a tentative step toward him, there was a small knock at the door.
“Daphne? Are you all right?”
Meena. Daphne exchanged a look with Colton, but the spirit didn’t budge.
Daphne cleared her throat. “Yes, I’m fine. Is something the matter?”
Silence. Daphne stood still, willing the girl to leave. Then the door slowly creaked open.
“I followed you because Akash wants to see you, but I heard a crash. Are you—?” Meena stopped at the sight of Colton. “Oh. Who’s this?”
But when she got a better look, her mouth parted. “You look …” Meena glanced between him and Daphne. “Who are you?”
Colton stood before Daphne could answer. “My name’s Colton. I came from Enfield.”
Meena gasped. “You are the one. Danny’s spirit.”
Colton perked up, barely registering the alarm on Daphne’s face. “He’s told you about me?”
“A little. But—how?” She glided into the room like a sleepwalker led by a dream. Colton was motionless as she lifted a hand and carefully put it on his arm. She shivered and muttered something in Hindi. “This isn’t possible. It can’t be. A clock spirit from England, in India?”
“We didn’t think time running without the towers was possible,” Daphne pointed out.
Meena exhaled shakily. “This is truly a miracle. It must mean something.”
“Yes, it means that whoever took Danny wants Colton as well,” Daphne snapped. “And we’re not going to let that happen.”
Meena kept staring at Colton, but eventually she bit her lower lip and turned to Daphne. “About Danny. Akash wanted to see you.”
“Akash? Why?”
“He wishes to tell you something. He’s waiting for you outside.”
Daphne wavered. She didn’t want to leave Colton alone with Meena, but the girl was a clock mechanic, the only other one in the cantonment. The only other one she could trust.
And if Danny had told her about Colton, that must mean he trusted her, too.
“Please tell no one about this,” Daphne urged.
“I won’t. Go see Akash.”
Anxiety sank its talons into her lungs as she left the room. Outside, she was greeted by a cool evening, the sunlight persisting even though the first star had already appeared above.
Akash was waiting down the road. He was dressed in his flight suit, goggles hanging around his neck, a pack slung over his shoulder.
“Akash? What’s going on?”
He studied her face with those dark, unreadable eyes. “The soldiers have been keeping me busy delivering messages, and I needed to take care of Meena, otherwise I would have done this sooner. I know you’ve asked to help in the search for Danny and the major won’t allow it, so I’ve decided to go in your place.”
She rocked back on her heels. “What?”
“It’s been too long, and no one’s had any word. I’m going to Meerut to see if I can find any sign of where he was taken.” Akash’s eyes shone, his usual certainty replaced with something calmer, softer. “Wish me luck?”
She threw her arms around his neck. He stumbled back in surprise, then hugged her just as tightly.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you for doing this. Please, please be safe.”
“I will.” He pulled back, then showed her his hand. On the back, he’d drawn a diamond.
“Give me some of your invincibility,” he said.
“Give me some of your strength.”
She placed her hand over his, then put them against his chest. “It’s yours.”
Here, at last, hope began to well within her, like a moth emerging after a storm. A whisper against the cold, a flutter of white amid the gray. It was neither beautiful nor ugly; it was the truth of living things.
He leaned toward her, or maybe she was leaning toward him. She could smell him this close—clean and earthy, like the plains after a monsoon.
Their lips touched, just barely at first. Then he pulled her in. She didn’t know what to do with her arms, so she wrapped them around his waist. It felt good to hold him, to keep him together and prevent the pieces of him from drifting apart. As if she were weaving a protective spell over his body, warm and solid against her own.
Two more stars had joined the first by the time they separated. They breathed in the quiet evening air and avoided looking into each other’s eyes. She was afraid that if she did, it would be for the last time.
He turned, and she watched him go, still feeling the phantom pressure of his lips on hers.
“Akash,” she called. He looked over his shoulder. “Come back. Come back with him.”
He smiled slightly. “Haan, Miss Richards.”
Days passed as Danny wasted away in his room. Zavier and the others insisted that he could walk around, that he didn’t have to act like a prisoner, but he knew that as long as he remained on the airship, that’s exactly what he was. One small step into their territory and he’d be lost.
As if he would agree to help them now. After their demonstration, he had spent the rest of the day in his room thinking about Enfield and Colton and what the Prometheus crew intended to do. How their actions would necessitate the death of Colton and everything he loved. Everything that made him Danny Hart.
They fed him three times a day. They let him bathe, and even gave him a razor to shave when the stubble grew too uncomfortable. Jo came every day to speak with him, and left behind books: Ovid, The Aeneid, Dante’s Divine Comedy. Danny liked to pass the time by imagining which circle of Hell was reserved for each passenger of the Prometheus. Zavier was easy: the Outer Ring of the Seventh Circle, where those violent against property were thrown into a boiling river of blood and fire, then shot with arrows by centaurs. At least it provided Danny with pleasant daydreams.
He knew he was losing weight. His skin, which had browned in the sun, was fading back to its usual pallor. The worry ate his bones—worry about Colton, his parents, Meena, Daphne, Harris, and the others. What were they doing in the wake of his disappearance? Were they searching for him? Did they think he was dead?
Loneliness took the shape of a dark skyline, so far-reaching it was difficult to find where it ended. If it even had an end.
The worst of it was when the ship prepared for Christmas. Danny had no idea how much time had passed until then, and it was a shock to his system. Red and gold streamers lined the hallways, bells jangled in all corners of the ship, and someone had even put a wreath on his door. He tore it down the moment he saw it.
Liddy and Prema made cookies and offered him some. Danny refused.
“It’ll do you no good to mope,” Prema said gently. “Have one. Please?”
“No, thank you.”
“Probably thinks we’ve snuck some sort of drug in ’em,” Liddy sneered. She bit off the head of a gingerbread man, making exaggerated chewing noises. “Yum, no drugs!”
Danny still refused their offerings, and they left him alone. That didn’t mean the others didn’t try to get him into the holiday spirit. Edmund could be heard bellowing carols at odd hours of the day, and Jo had taken to spicing the eggnog and sneaking it onto Danny’s food trays. Some idiot had even hung mistletoe over Zavier’s office door.
Danny wanted no part of it. He kept to himself in his room, curled up on the bed, thinking about his mother and father alone on Christmas so soon after they’d been reunited as a family. Cassie biting her nails as she fretted. Colton needing him. At least in his room, no one saw him give in to frustrated tears.
After the demonstration, Zavier gave Danny some space, then made not-so-subtle attempts to talk to him. Danny resisted all of his advances; it was clear Zavier didn’t possess his aunt’s charm.
Jo ended up relaying all conversation between them, but after a few weeks of this back-and-forth, the young man finally summoned Danny to his office.
When the door opened, Danny was nearly bowled over by a disturbing sight: Zavier, laughing.
Zavier saw him standing in the doorway and his mirth blew out like a candle. A girl sat on the edge of his desk, younger than him by a few years. Danny had seen her a couple of times around the Prometheus, but didn’t know her name. When she turned to look at him, he was startled to see she had Zavier’s gray eyes.
Zavier made a few motions with his hands at the girl, who nodded and gestured back. Danny recognized it as sign language. One of the mechanics back home was deaf and required an interpreter on assignments.
The girl slipped off the desk and smiled at Danny as she walked by, closing the door behind her. Uncertainly, Danny made his way over to a chair.
“Your sister?” he guessed.
“Yes.” Zavier watched Danny carefully, as if he had pointed out a weak spot in his armor. Quickly changing the subject, he said, “I’ve given it some thought, and I think it’s best that I tell you everything concerning Enfield.”
Danny sat up straighter. “You will?” Suspicion tempered his eagerness. “Why?”
“It’s not fair for me to keep the information from you, especially since you’re Enfield’s clock mechanic.”
That couldn’t be the reason, but Danny didn’t argue. Whether it was a new tactic or Jo had convinced him to confess, he needed whatever information Zavier was willing to provide.
Zavier drummed his metallic fingers against the desk. “There is another airship called the Kalki. That crew has their own goals—chiefly, to drive the British out of India.”
Danny sat back. Of all his theories, he hadn’t expected this.
“The Kalki’s crew is made up of Indian rebels who believe that the rebellion twenty years ago should have succeeded. We respect their mission, and they respect ours. Sometimes we work together, help each other if needed. So I know why they attacked Enfield: to Stop the town and cease the production of firearms.”
Danny closed his eyes and thought back to his visit of the weapons factory. He’d known it then, and he knew it now: Enfield should have never been involved in such business. “Well, it sounds like they succeeded,” he said flatly.
“Yes, but not quite. The town Stopped before the tower completely fell.”
Danny opened his eyes. “And Colton?”
Zavier laced his fingers together on the desk. “I may have lied before about not knowing where Colton was. It’s true that we don’t know where he is currently, but we do know that Colton went to London.”
“He—what? How? Why?” When he’d taken Colton to London last year, the spirit could barely keep his eyes open, let alone walk.
“We’re not sure how, but a contact saw him at your house.”
“You—” Danny half-rose out of his seat. “You have spies watching my bloody house?”
“Not consistently, but yes. Also, our spiders listen in.”
“Have you done anything to my parents? I swear to God, if you’ve touched them—”
“No one has touched anybody. They’re safe, Danny. I promise.”
“And Colton?”
Zavier hesitated. “We’re not sure.”
Danny’s limbs shook with rage and fear. His head swam with information, with consequences.
“The rebels have told us that the short supply of guns is becoming troublesome for the soldiers,” Zavier went on, “but it’s not a significant enough move for their cause. They have … something else in mind.”
Danny thought back to the riots he’d heard about, sparking here and there throughout the cou
ntry. What else could they possibly do?
And then he remembered the dark looks on the Indian soldiers’ faces whenever Delhi was mentioned, the reminder that the Queen was now their Empress, whether they wanted it or not.
“They’re going to do something at Delhi,” Danny concluded. “Aren’t they?”
Zavier studied him, the caution back in his eyes, in the set of his shoulders. Eventually, he nodded.
“They’re going to assassinate the viceroy.”
The words were a kick in the gut. “Assassinate?”
“You must know Viceroy Lytton isn’t popular. When we started working with the Kalki rebels, we struck a deal. They would cause distractions—the riots—so that we could rig explosives within the Indian towers. In return, we’ll give them a distraction when the time comes. Lytton’s going to be at the Delhi durbar to stand in for Queen Victoria during the New Year’s celebration. It’s the perfect opportunity to make sure all eyes are on them, to turn the event into something symbolic.” Zavier shrugged. “We don’t have to like their actions, as long as it helps our mission.”
“All this so you can attack the Delhi tower?” Zavier said nothing, and Danny kicked the desk in agitation. “You’re just going to let them kill a man to be symbolic?”
“It’s not our decision. The Kalki crew has their goals, and we have ours.”
“But you can stop them. Can’t you imagine the panic this is going to cause? How many deaths will pile up on either side?” He thought of his friends caught up in that chaos—Meena, Akash, Daphne. “India is still reeling after the first rebellion. Don’t stand back and let another one happen.”
“I thought you were sympathetic to the Indian cause?”
“That doesn’t mean I want to watch them or my countrymen die!”
“You’re straying from the larger picture.”
“It looks plenty big to me!”
“Time, Danny. Aetas. The towers. Once we’ve solved the bigger problems, we can turn to the smaller ones.”
“This is small to you?”