by Tara Sim
“Compared to the power of gods? Yes, it is.”
“You’re not being rational.”
“Magic, Danny, is not rational. I thought you of all people would know that.”
Danny clutched the arms of his chair. “I want to go back to my room now.”
“If you wish.” Zavier rose to summon an escort, looking disappointed.
Danny’s mind raced. He had to warn someone. Major Dryden, or Captain Harris, or another officer who could put a stop to this. If only he could get back to Meerut …
An idea struck Danny so suddenly that he nearly wrenched his back turning in his seat.
“Wait!”
Zavier paused, his hand above the doorknob. “What is it?”
“I …” Danny forced himself to look innocent, lowering his eyelashes as he stared at the floor. “Maybe I—Maybe I do want to help you.”
Zavier turned back completely, waiting for Danny to continue.
“Maybe we really should be focusing on the bigger picture. But I’m still not sure what to believe. I know what I saw, but what if Aetas’s power wears off? What if time does Stop in these places you’ve freed?”
“That won’t happen.”
“But how do you know for certain? I want to see Meerut. I want to see that the city is still running. Then I’ll give you my decision.”
Zavier eyed him with that familiar caution. “I can show you Meerut,” he decided. “But only from the air. We’re not landing.”
“That sounds fair. Thank you.”
A rare smile flitted across Zavier’s face before he opened the door and asked for Edmund to escort Danny back to his room. As Danny made to leave, Zavier stopped him.
“Here.” He handed Danny the small cog. “Dae can’t make sense of it. I’m sorry for keeping it from you for so long.”
Danny’s hand trembled as he took it. Touching the cog was almost like touching Colton, and it suddenly gave him all the courage he needed.
“Remember: Meerut,” Danny said.
“Yes. Meerut.”
He should have known.
The pockets of Indian rebellion just before the clock towers fell. The rumors that something was going to happen to the Delhi tower during the New Year’s celebration. Danny had anticipated the terrorists using the celebration as a distraction; he just hadn’t anticipated rebels using the terrorists as a distraction in return.
Both sides benefited, and everyone else lost.
Danny had read about the massacres during the uprising. Indians slaughtering British citizens, British irrigating the Indian plains with rebel blood.
He saw the oppression all around him, the indignation in Meena and Akash’s eyes. He wanted India’s freedom, too.
But not at this cost.
Sacrifice what you want for what is right, Zavier had said. Hypocrite.
The airship had traveled north since the incident at Edava, and now they flew somewhere near Nepal. They could easily hide in the clouds, but they’d had to land twice for fuel. Both times, Danny was kept under tight watch in his room. He hoped that someone would recognize the ship and stop Zavier, but no one ever did.
Christmas came and went. Again, the crew tried to lure Danny into a sense of false security, popping Christmas crackers with colorful crowns, promising cooked goose and rosemary potatoes, but he accepted none of it. His stomach growled in displeasure, but he couldn’t stop thinking about the approaching New Year. He couldn’t let anything distract him.
The crew had given him other clothes, but he insisted on wearing his own outfit the day after Christmas, when Zavier said he would take him to Meerut. It was wrinkled and the cuffs were frayed, but at least someone had washed it.
Zavier came to his room, handcuffs at the ready. He saw the look of disgust Danny gave them and shrugged. “I have to be sure.”
“You don’t trust me?”
The young man raised his eyebrows. “You don’t even trust me yet. You said you would give your answer after you saw Meerut. Until then, you’ll have to bear it.”
Danny held out his arms and Zavier fettered his wrists together. At least Colton’s cog was safe in his pocket, providing some small measure of comfort.
Zavier led Danny to a hangar built in the belly of the ship. It housed a small aircraft, its engine already warm and running, the same one that had carried the water to Edava. Danny looked around, and Zavier seemed to read his mind. “We have none of Aetas’s water left. We could go back for another batch, but that’ll take a few days. It would be much simpler if you just told us your secret about Enfield.”
Danny bristled, but decided not to respond.
Zavier opened the aircraft doors, one on either side. There was room for two people to sit in the cockpit. Danny clambered into the seat without controls, wriggling his hips awkwardly since he didn’t have use of his hands. How the hell was he going to do this?
Zavier slipped in beside him, then shifted so that Danny could see the metal rod at his belt. The threat was clear. Danny still didn’t know what it did, but it was bound to be unpleasant.
The hangar opened. Danny held his breath and stared at the expanding sliver of sunshine that grew into a sheet of crystalline blue. How many feet were they above the ground? How steady was this aircraft, anyway?
Zavier took hold of the controls and urged the plane forward, out of the hangar. Danny bit his lip to conceal a startled noise. They were going to drop. They were going to fall right out of the sky. At least Zavier would die alongside him, a minor consolation.
The aircraft did drop, but only a few feet. A small yelp escaped him.
Zavier glanced over. “Don’t worry, there are parachutes.” He pointed past Danny, to the side of his seat. “I’m a relatively good pilot. My aunt and uncle taught me.”
“You don’t say.” Danny sank down into the seat. The less he could see of the open sky, the better.
“How do you like her? My aunt?”
She’s the only sensible one on that ship. “She’s all right.”
“You know, you should try to get to know the others instead of locking yourself up in your room all the time.”
Danny tried not to laugh. He tested the handcuffs; they only had two inches of give between his wrists.
“Do you honestly think that if enough time passes, I’ll think of you lot as my friends? Sorry to disappoint, but I already have friends, and they’re looking for me as we speak.” At least, he hoped so. “I’m not in the market for new mates.”
Zavier shook his head. “Never mind.”
They flew in painful silence. Danny closed his eyes and listened to the thrum of the aircraft, tensing whenever an air current made it shudder. About forty-five minutes later, Zavier cleared his throat.
“We’re here.”
Danny sat up and looked out the window, and the bottom of his stomach dropped out. There it was—Meerut. Danny’s eyes automatically scanned the city for signs of Aditi’s tower, even though he knew it wouldn’t be there.
“Get closer,” Danny demanded. “I can’t see anything.” He thought he heard Zavier sigh softly before he brought the plane farther down, making circles over Meerut like a vulture.
People walked through the streets. Wares were bought in bazaars. Devout worshippers visited the temples. Life continued without the tower, just as Zavier had promised. Danny’s throat tightened.
“I told you, Danny. We don’t need the towers anymore. Meerut is free now. Imagine if everywhere in the world were like this.”
Danny didn’t respond. He continued to stare out the window, heartsick and defeated, thinking of Colton’s broken tower and what would happen to it when time resumed in Enfield. He leaned his forehead against the window as his vision blurred.
“If you’re worried about the spirits,” Zavier continued, “and if you’re worried about Colton … I’m sure we can make some sort of deal. Find a way to keep Colton safe. If you help us free Aetas—”
But Danny stopped listening as something be
low caught his eye. Just outside the city, planes were docked along the tarmac. One of them had familiar red letters scrawled across its side.
The Silver Hawk.
“We can’t be sure of Aetas’s powers. It could be that he—Danny?”
Danny didn’t think. If he stopped to think, he wouldn’t be able to do it. He tore the parachute from the side of his seat, then shoved the cockpit door open. He was nearly sucked out by the rush of air, stingingly cold against his face.
“Danny, what are you doing? Stop!”
He looked over his shoulder. “Sod off, Zavier.”
Then, deciding that he needed at least some say in it this time, he jumped.
His scream was eaten by the roaring air all around him. He was cold and hot all at once, tumbling toward the earth at a speed he’d never imagined his body reaching. He fumbled with the parachute as best he could with his hands still handcuffed, panicking when he couldn’t find the string to pull.
He looked down. It was a mistake. Meerut was coming up fast, and if he didn’t find this one—damned—string—
His hand clamped around it at last and he pulled for dear life. The tan fabric shot out of the folded canvas sack, and he screamed again as he nearly lost his grip from the force of the updraft. He held onto the ends desperately, no longer plummeting.
“Oh, thank God,” he gasped. “Sweet bloody Christ, thank you.” His mother would have smacked the back of his head for that remark. The notion only made him laugh giddily.
Danny thought jumping would be the most difficult part. He wasn’t prepared for the fact that Meerut was still underneath him, all hard roads and buildings. Trying to direct the parachute didn’t work, but at least he could pull himself a couple inches one way or the other.
A rooftop loomed beneath his feet. He tried to reach for the end with his foot, but misjudged the distance and ended up toppling over the side. He landed on an awning and bounced into the road below.
He landed with a hard thud. Groaning, he curled onto his side.
“Up, Danny, up,” he grunted to himself. Coughing, he rose to his knees, then staggered to his feet.
He had attracted spectators. They stared at him as if he were a street performer and they were waiting for his next move. Some glanced at his handcuffs. Danny gave them a small bow and took off running down the street.
The area didn’t look familiar, but within a minute he spotted a street he and Meena had walked down a few times. He darted toward it.
“Meena! Daphne! Akash! Captain Harris!”
As much as he didn’t want to attract attention, a frantic British boy with his hands cuffed together yelling random names at the top of his lungs would draw any eye, and he drew quite a number of them as he darted past.
“Meena! Daphne! Ak—” Someone grabbed his arm and swung him around. “—ash!”
The young Indian man gaped at him, taking in the handcuffs. Then he looked over Danny’s shoulder, where he only now noticed the parachute that had been limply trailing behind. Right, well, Danny would never show his face in Meerut again.
“What are you doing here?” Danny demanded.
“What am I doing here? I’m looking for clues as to where you’ve gone!” Akash’s eyes went back to the parachute. “I think I found a fairly large one.”
“All right, look, there’s no time for questions. You have to get me to your plane.”
“But there’s a lieutenant here—”
“I don’t care! We need to leave now!”
Akash nodded and ripped the parachute strings from Danny’s back, and the pair took off running, Akash leading the way out of the city. He hailed a tonga and they jumped into the back. Akash shouted at the groom and they flew down the road, the groom expertly darting around pedestrians.
Near the tarmac, they jumped off and the driver shouted at them to pay. Danny sprinted for the Silver Hawk, but saw something that made him trip and nearly fall.
Another plane had landed. Zavier got out of the aircraft, his face pale.
“Danny, stop! You can’t trust these people!”
Akash tried to climb into the Silver Hawk to start the engine, but Zavier moved with surprising speed and knocked him down. Danny did the only thing he could think of and jumped on Zavier, pinning him to the hot tarmac.
“Danny, listen to me,” Zavier choked out. “You say you have friends, but you don’t know them any more than you know us. You won’t be safe anywhere!”
Danny raised his hands as if to strike, but Zavier grabbed the metal rod at his belt and stabbed it into Danny’s midsection.
He fell over with a screech of pain, his body jerking as painful currents of electricity traveled through his limbs. The rod was removed, but not quickly enough to prevent Danny from being momentarily paralyzed.
“I’m sorry—it’s for your own good—”
Akash roared and kicked Zavier in the head. Zavier went down, scrambling for the metal rod that had flown out of his hand.
Akash hauled Danny into the plane, grunting and swearing in Hindi.
“Danny!” Zavier yelled, but his voice was cut off when Akash slammed the aircraft’s door shut. He jumped into the pilot seat, flipped a few switches, and took off faster than Danny had ever seen a plane go. Danny clutched a seat so he wouldn’t slide to the back of the plane, only letting go when they were level.
“Danny, are you all right? Did he hurt you?”
“Give me a minute.”
He focused on breathing. In, out, in, out. He winced with every inhalation. The spot Zavier had attacked hurt the most, his abdomen sore and sending pangs through his chest whichever way he moved.
He stood and carefully made his way to the seat next to the pilot’s. Akash’s eyes were wild, but he examined him for signs of injury.
“I’m fine,” Danny murmured.
Akash sighed through his nose. “He’s not following us.”
“He thinks we’re going back to Agra.”
“We are going back to Agra.”
“No, we’re not.” Danny clenched his hands. “We’re going to Delhi.”
“… May I ask why?”
“Queen Victoria’s celebration is being held there.”
“And you want to join the festivities, is that it?”
“Not me. Rebels. They’re looking to start another rebellion.”
Akash’s hands tightened on the controls. He glanced over again, but Danny wouldn’t meet his gaze.
“What do you think we can do about that?”
“I don’t know, but that bastard is going to find me again one way or another, and it’ll be relatively soon if we go back to Agra. For now, let’s go to Delhi. We’ll send a wire to the others when we get there.” Danny realized that his words sounded like an order. “If that’s all right with you. If not, you can drop me off and I’ll find a way to get there on my own.”
Akash shook his head. “I promised Daphne I would come back with you.”
The corner of Danny’s mouth ticked up. “You’re calling her Daphne now?”
A blush spread across Akash’s face. “I’m trying it out.”
They fell into contemplative silence, and Danny’s smile disappeared. His body was stiff with soreness and fatigue, and on the edges of his consciousness he felt the delayed effects of his escape creeping closer.
“It’ll be dangerous,” Danny whispered.
“I am aware.”
There was nothing more to say.
The Imperial Assemblage had collected on a plain four miles northeast of Delhi, beside the infamous ridge where Indian rebels had clashed with British soldiers twenty years before. Danny didn’t know whether choosing this spot had been accidental or not, but it cast an ominous tone over the upcoming celebration.
As they flew to Delhi, Danny told Akash about what he had learned.
“We heard of what happened in Edava,” Akash said. “Meena and Miss Ri—Daphne were upset, but the major wouldn’t send either of them to investigate. You saw it wi
th your own eyes?”
“I wish I hadn’t.”
“Are you sure about what you heard, though? About the viceroy?”
“Very sure.” Danny flexed his right hand. A tremor had been going through it since Zavier zapped him with that metal rod. “I can’t say how they’re planning to assassinate him, though.”
“Did this man, Zavier, say anything more about the attack? Did you see anything suspicious?”
Danny sighed and tried to think back. He had told Akash about the ship, the people he had met, the pieces here and there that had made up the whole of his imprisonment. It was shocking to look around and find he wasn’t still on the Prometheus.
“I tried to read some of his papers, but I couldn’t understand them. There was even one in French. Think they might be dealing with other foreign contacts?”
“French? What did it say?”
Danny tried to rub his face with his hands, but he was still handcuffed. They would have to do something about that. “I’ve never been good with French. I think it was foo-duh-jwa?”
“Feu-de-joie? Furious joy?”
“Yes! You speak French?”
“No, Daphne and I saw the same message in Lucknow. She translated it back in Agra. We don’t know what it means, though. Do you?”
Danny slumped back in his seat. “No idea.”
There was a closed-in hangar for private aircrafts to dock outside the city. Delhi was massive, and the sheer scale made Danny sweat. It was cooler now in December than it had been when they’d first arrived, but the humidity still made him feel as if his skin were shrinking. The air hit him like an arid ocean swell when Akash opened the door.
Danny climbed down the ladder as best he could. Akash eyed the handcuffs with a frown. He climbed back into the plane and reemerged carrying a scarf, which he wrapped around Danny’s hands. “It’ll have to do. Wait here while I get the Silver Hawk registered.”
That done, they headed into the city. “What’s the plan?” Akash asked.
“The plan is to make a plan.”
Delhi was packed with people, and Danny’s breaths grew shallower, his senses overwhelmed after his month of near-isolation. The smell of smoke and the press of sweating bodies nearly did him in until Akash pulled him into a shadowed alley.