Colton hesitated outside Danny’s parents’ bedroom door. He had one hand raised to knock, the other still clutching the note. It was six in the morning, and he didn’t know when they normally woke. Danny often didn’t roll out of bed until eight. Sometimes, he even slept until noon.
He lowered his hand. As soon as he had read the note, his first thought was that Danny needed help. Then, that his parents ought to know about it. But in the ensuing hours he’d waited for a polite time to wake them, his mind had been busy thinking of the different outcomes.
If he told Danny’s father, the man would likely leave Colton with another mechanic who might bring him back to Enfield. He’d be trapped in his tower again, unable to get news.
Christopher was already wary of him. He would insist Colton go back while he tried to protect his son from this new threat.
If he didn’t tell Christopher …
Colton retreated to Danny’s room and decided to think some more. This was a conflict of what humans called morals. Colton knew the basics: killing was bad; adultery was bad; hurting someone was bad. But keeping information away from concerned parents?
By the time he heard Leila and Christopher go downstairs, he knew what he had to do.
He cautiously descended the stairs and peeked into the kitchen. They were drinking tea, and waved him inside. The atmosphere was much lighter than it had been before, but there was still an awkward twinge when he walked in.
“Did you have a good night?” Leila asked. Colton nodded. “I would offer you breakfast, but …”
“Thank you, anyway.”
Christopher looked Colton up and down, scrutinizing his outfit. “I think it would be best if you changed into some of Danny’s things. You’re of a size, so they should fit. We want you to blend in as much as possible on the way to the office.”
Colton hesitated, touching the note in his trouser pocket. But after a moment, all he said was, “I’ll look for some.”
He decided he wouldn’t make a very good human.
Upstairs, he silently asked Danny’s forgiveness as he rifled through his clothes. He picked out black trousers, a white shirt, and a black waistcoat. When he asked if these were decent enough, Christopher said they would do the trick.
“There’s a washroom down the hall. You can use the mirror.”
On the stairs, Colton saw Christopher kiss his wife goodbye before she left for work. His mind was in guilty knots as he heard their quiet murmuring until the front door closed.
Colton undressed in front of the body-length mirror in the washroom. He examined his reflection curiously, tilting his head to one side. Devoid of clothes, he looked like any other boy. He touched his arms, his chest, his lower stomach, his thighs.
He touched his navel, thinking of Danny’s surprise when he’d seen it. He had touched Danny’s navel, too; an inverted little hole that made Danny jerk when he’d kissed it. Colton did not jerk when he touched his own. Strange.
Another strange thing: his right side was red and ropy, like a scar that was still tender. He realized it mirrored the damage to his tower.
He couldn’t do anything about it.
Dressing slowly, he began to piece together a new Colton. Christopher was right: the clothes fit him well. When he was finished, he stared at this confusing hybrid of Danny and Colton and couldn’t make heads or tails of it. He brushed his hair, feeling weak.
Coming out of the washroom, he bumped right into Christopher.
“Well, look at you.”
“I did. In the mirror.”
Christopher smiled. “It means you look nice. The style suits you.”
“Oh. Thank you.” Guilt flared inside him, and Colton touched the pocket where he’d hidden the note. In his other pocket was the picture of Danny.
I’ll tell him soon. I promise.
The journey to the office was even better than his walk yesterday. For one thing, they were in an auto, which meant he could stare out the window all he wanted without risking distraction or attention. Christopher said he normally took an omnibus, but with Danny gone, the auto was his to use.
“It’s only been a day, but I miss him like hell,” Christopher said, almost to himself.
Colton sat back in his seat. “I miss him, too.” Christopher glanced at him, but neither said a word until they pulled up beside a large, gray building.
Time pulled at him, called his name. It danced across his skin like lightning, and in its threads was woven the essence of London, garlands of stone and smoke and steam. He got out of the auto and looked for Big Ben. The tower stood across the street, tall, proud, and golden. Colton waved, once again marveling at the strength it emanated.
Christopher led him through broad doors into a wide marble atrium. Colton gawked at the columns and the large chandelier above, dripping crystal amid intricate carvings on the ceiling. There was nothing near this grand in Enfield.
“Colton,” Christopher called, already halfway up the stairs. Colton unwillingly followed, leaving the beautiful atrium behind.
They walked up the flight of curving stairs, passing people left and right. Colton kept his head down, but couldn’t help peeking up every so often. So many mechanics in one place. He wondered if he would recognize any of them.
As it turned out, he did. A tall boy walked out of a hallway and noticed Christopher. Brandon’s dark eyes went from him to Colton, perhaps expecting to see Danny. When Colton raised his head, Brandon’s eyes widened and he opened his mouth, but Colton put a finger to his lips.
Later.
When they reached the Lead Mechanic’s office, Colton was all nerves again. Christopher spoke to a woman sitting across the hall from the Lead’s door.
“I’m sorry, but he’s busy,” the woman kept saying.
“This is urgent.”
“Do you want to make an appointment?”
“No, I need to see him right bloody now!”
“Sir—”
“Just tell him Christopher Hart is here. Please.”
The woman, frowning, walked to the Lead’s door and cracked it open. “Sir, Christopher Hart is here to see you. I told him you’re busy, but—” She paused. “Yes, sir. You can see him,” she told Christopher with a disapproving sniff.
On the other side of the door, Colton finally saw the man Danny spoke of so often. The man who would cast Danny out of Enfield if he learned about their relationship. He was squat with a round belly and a broad, care-lined face. It looked as if he had taken hair from the top of his head and pasted it above his upper lip.
The Lead set aside a stack of papers, his eyes pinched. “Christopher. How am I not surprised you’d be the first to come?”
“You already know?”
“Just heard an hour ago. We’re trying to keep it from the public for as long as we can, but it’s only a matter of time.” He flinched at his poor joke. “Of course, your son would have been the first one we called, but the lad’s likely in Agra by now. I was going to ring you instead.” The Lead paused. “But I’m a bit baffled as to how you know about Enfield.”
Christopher had the same look Danny got when he was trying to figure out how to explain something, a slight channel between his eyebrows as he pressed his lips together. In the end, he must have decided that no words were necessary, and gestured to Colton instead.
The Lead had barely spared him a glance when they’d walked in, but now he had the man’s full attention. Colton took off his cap and held it between his hands.
“Hello, sir,” Colton said. “My name is Colton. Danny Hart is my mechanic.”
The Lead blinked. He looked at the satchel filled with cogs, then back up at Colton.
“Good Lord,” he said at last, the color draining from his face.
Christopher told Colton to sit down and tell the Lead about the attack, and then, when the spirit was finished, he explained their options. By the time they were done, the Lead looked positively bloodless.
“We need others to help rebuild the Enfield tower, when it falls,” Christopher said. “Because as soon as Colton starts time again, it will fall, and Enfield will Stop again. If we can get the building crew inside the town while it’s falling, we can attempt to get Enfield to some level of functionality in the interim.”
The Lead was shaking his head. “I’m not sure if that will work.”
“We have to try.”
“Christopher, listen. If we do restore Colton back to Enfield and time resumes, what if there’s another attack? No other towns have been affected. Just Enfield.”
“What do you propose we do, then?”
The Lead studied Colton. “We’ll first have to find out who attacked Enfield, and why. Once we apprehend those responsible, Enfield should be safe to start again. If we can start it. But when the tower falls …”
They continued their speculation, but it was all circles, round and round until Colton felt his only choice was to block them out. He started paying attention again when he heard his name.
“Christopher, I want you to put Colton up while we investigate,” the Lead said. “No one must know the spirit is here. We can’t keep him at the office with so many mechanics about. Someone might catch on.”
“But, sir, he’s weak and getting weaker. He can’t be away from Enfield for long.”
The Lead eyed Colton again. “I’d like you to work with the clockwork smiths. You showed some prowess in that field when you were an apprentice. I’ll talk to them, let them know the situation, and we can put our heads together to find some contraption to help the boy—er, spirit. Something to make him stronger for now.”
Christopher didn’t seem to like this plan, but to Colton, it sounded perfect. He needed more time to think about what he would do next.
“One thing after another,” the Lead mumbled. “I hope Daniel’s having a better time of it in India, away from all this commotion.”
The note burned in Colton’s pocket.