Christopher came bounding into the kitchen a few days later while Leila was attempting to teach Colton how to cook. Colton couldn’t taste anything, of course, but that didn’t stop him from being fascinated by the whole process. That, and Leila had noticed he was bored.
“Christopher, slow down!” Leila scolded when her husband nearly ran into the table.
“I think we’ve got it! Colton, try it on. The other cogs are already inside.”
Colton eagerly grabbed his central cog from the table as Christopher unveiled the latest model. It was sleek and round, the bronze metalwork spiderwebbing over the front to support thin metal pockets containing the smaller cogs.
When Colton slipped the central cog into the holder, he could already feel it working. A warm and familiar power seeped into his body, as if he carried sunlight for bones. The straps settled over his shoulders, and his four cogs nestled snugly against his back, humming faintly.
Leila gasped. “I can see you! I mean, better than I could before.”
He looked at his hands. They seemed flesh and blood, just as they’d appeared in his tower. Even the pain in his side had lessened.
“Your suggestion to use the smaller cogs was just the thing we needed,” Christopher said with pride. “Do you feel better?”
“Much better, thank you.”
“He looks better, too,” Leila added. “Not as tired.”
In fact, Colton felt energized and restless. Christopher must have noticed, for he said that Colton could try it out tomorrow.
“I can go outside?” he asked, hopeful.
“Yes, but with me, of course. Let’s take a trip to the office tomorrow morning. There’s a leather cover here, too, so people don’t get suspicious.”
Colton was too excited to drift out of consciousness that night. And it was just as well, because he didn’t want any more of those strange visions. Time buzzed around his body, feeding off of London’s like a plant absorbing water.
But his excitement withered the next morning when Christopher got off the telephone and said they couldn’t go out today.
“I just got a call from a friend across town. His auto’s died on him and he needs a lift. It’ll take me a few hours. I’m sorry.”
Colton tried to mask his disappointment. “That’s all right.”
“I’ve told the Lead about our success, though. He’s ecstatic. Still frustrated there’s no information about the airship, but at least we’ve bought ourselves more time.”
Colton watched him slip on a jacket and head out the door. The auto started up, and the rumble of the engine dwindled away until all that was left was familiar silence.
An empty house had a particular sound, Colton had come to realize: a sigh made without lungs, the silent crawl of time passing with no one to measure it in beats of words and breaths. No one to speak to or listen to or watch. A loneliness that was cutting.
He couldn’t stay here.
He dressed in Danny’s clothes, put the leather cover over the cog holder, and crammed a cap onto his head. The Harts had given him an extra key, just in case, and he used it to lock the door behind himself. Putting on the holder, he made for Big Ben.
He wasn’t afraid of getting lost. He remembered the route he and Christopher had taken to get to the Mechanics Affairs building, but more than that, he felt Big Ben drawing him closer, pointing him in the right direction. That presence was hard to ignore, especially now that he had the holder to magnify his own power.
The clock tower stood tall and beautiful, sheathed in gold. Colton had only seen it at nighttime, so the burnished glow it gave off during the day was a marvel to behold.
Colton walked toward it, crossing the street with a small crowd. People looked at him and away, unconcerned. They saw only another human, and the notion made him grin from ear to ear. He loved blending in, becoming one of them.
It wasn’t until he approached the tower that he realized he didn’t know how to get inside. Last time, Danny had shown his mechanic’s badge and the guards had let them through. Colton walked around to the front of the tower, where a few people had gathered before a tall black iron fence. Above them hung a sign that read TOUR STARTS ON THE HOUR, EVERY HOUR.
Colton moved forward with the group and was stopped by a guard.
“You here for the tour?”
Colton pushed down his sudden panic. “Yes?”
“One and five, please.”
The panic promptly returned. What did that mean? Had Danny ever used that phrase before?
He glanced at the numerals of Big Ben’s western clock face. “One and … five?”
The guard grunted. “One shilling, five pence for the tour.”
“Oh! Money. Right.” Much to his relief, he still carried the coins that Mayor Aldridge had given him for emergencies. With a silent promise to pay him back, he handed the guard all the money in his pocket.
The guard scowled at him. He picked through the coins until he had his one and five and shoved the rest back at Colton.
“Go on, get in line.”
Colton hurried away, worried the man might ask him more difficult questions. He didn’t mingle with the tourists, who kept to themselves anyway. Instead, he made a game of noticing their different features until a different guard let them through the tower entrance.
As soon as he was in the tower, time acknowledged him like an embrace. Colton smiled and looked up, knowing Big Ben was watching. But the spirit couldn’t show himself in front of all these people. Colton would have to find a way to sneak off.
The guide led them up the stairs, droning on about different details of the tower, but Colton didn’t care much about building materials and architecture. When they passed a landing, he spied a door marked MAINTENANCE PERSONNEL ONLY. He crept toward it while the others were distracted, hiding himself within the dark closet. Pressing his ear against the door, he listened to the sound of many feet climbing the next set of stairs, the guide’s voice fading away like the auto engine had that morning.
Colton crept back onto the landing and found Big Ben standing there, beaming at him.
“Never imagined I’d see you again, lad. Why’s it taken you so long to come say hello?”
Big Ben was certainly big. His shoulders were broad, his frame tall, his chest thick. Like Colton, he had golden features, from his yellow-amber eyes to the short blond beard around his jaw. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows, revealing a black tattoo with Latin inscription that had been carved onto the tower. Danny had not yet taught Colton how to read Latin, so he had no clue what it meant.
“I’m sorry,” Colton said. “It’s been difficult to move around. This is the first opportunity I’ve had to leave the house.”
“This sounds like a long story. Come along.”
Colton followed him up into the rafters, far away from the prying eyes of tourists and mechanics on duty. The pair sat above the four main bells, one of them the namesake of the London spirit before him.
“Why do they have tours in you?” Colton asked.
“The mechanics need to get extra funding somehow. Besides, I’ve heard I’m quite impressive.” He waited for Colton to finish laughing before he said, “Go on then, tell me what’s happened.”
So Colton explained everything: the towers falling in India, Danny leaving, and the threatening note. Big Ben sat with his head slightly cocked to one side, his expression at once intrigued and alarmed.
“And the mechanic who Stopped your town last time isn’t behind it?”
“Danny said Matthias went to prison, and he’s still there. He didn’t know anything about the attack.”
Big Ben stroked his beard while he thought. Colton looked down at the large bells, wondering if he could fit inside them.
Finally, the great spirit shook his head. “I don’t know how you ought to proceed, to be honest.”
“Neither do I. It’s too complicated for me to understand. But until the mechanics find a way to keep Enfield safe, I have to stay in London.”
“Probably for the best. It would be a shame to get everything up and running only to be attacked again. Strange to think your mechanic doesn’t know anything about this, though.”
“The Lead says he shouldn’t have any distractions.”
“But you said he may be in danger.”
“Maybe. I don’t know. He’ll have soldiers with him, at least.” Colton swung his legs back and forth, remembering the sound of heels striking a barrel. “I wanted to ask you something. Do you ever have … visions? Or lose consciousness and think of strange things?”
Big Ben gave Colton an odd look. “Not that I can recall. Have you?”
Colton told him about the visions, about the boy named Castor, the sea, and how it felt as if he’d experienced the life of another person through his eyes.
Big Ben leaned back. “I’ve never seen anything like that before. Sounds interesting, though.”
“It wasn’t interesting. It was confusing, and then it was frightening.” Colton put a hand against his chest. “I felt this horrible fear, rising up like it would burst out of me and destroy everything.”
“Well, now that you have this new holder, you won’t lose consciousness again.”
“I hope that’s the case.”
Below them, the bells began to chime. The sound vibrated through the rafters as they tolled twelve times. Colton had left the house at half past nine.
“I should head back. Christopher will be worried if he finds me missing.”
“Hold on a moment.” Big Ben winked out of sight. Colton waited patiently for him to return, which he did within seconds. “I want you to have this.”
He handed Colton a small cog of burnished bronze. Colton took it and felt a little spark as the metal touched his fingertips.
“Don’t you need it?”
“It’s a spare. I keep a few lying around, just in case. You should see how frustrated the mechanics get when they can’t find them.”
“Why are you giving it to me?”
The spirit winked. “Just in case.”
They said goodbye as the tour was about to pass below. Colton couldn’t disappear and reappear here as he would in his own tower, since he didn’t control the time boundaries. But he could climb down easily enough, and he waited until the group had passed him before slipping into the back.
Outside, Colton hurried past the dour guard and waited to cross the street. He furtively glanced at Big Ben’s cog in his hand, then looked up at the clock tower. Big Ben sat on the roof, waving down at him. Colton waved back before the spirit disappeared.
As he passed the Mechanics Affairs office, he kept his head down, hoping none of the mechanics nearby could feel his presence.
He thought he’d succeeded when a hand pushed against his chest, stopping him in his tracks. His head shot up, but relief instantly flooded him at the sight of Brandon Summers.
“I knew it wasn’t a hallucination,” the boy said. “Come here.”
Brandon led him around the corner. Leaning a shoulder against the stone wall, Brandon crossed his arms and gave Colton a level stare. “Enfield’s Stopped.” Even though it didn’t sound like a question, Colton nodded. “Can you tell me how?”
“We’re out in the open.”
“Say it soft, then.”
Colton lowered his voice and described the events of the last few weeks.
“And Danny is in bloody India,” Brandon mumbled.
“Yes.”
“What’s the plan?”
It was too much to explain out in the middle of the street, so Colton asked if they could meet later. “Maybe you can help with the investigation, since you know Enfield so well.”
“Just tell me when and where.”
They agreed to meet at the Harts’ house in two days, when both of Danny’s parents would be out; Colton had memorized their schedules. He and Brandon parted ways.
It was a long walk to the house, and he worried the entire way that Christopher would already be there, panicked and enraged. But when he approached the front gate, he saw no auto at the curb. He was in the clear.
Pleased with himself for having an outing with no major complications, Colton opened the front door and froze. There was a letter on the floor under the mail slot.
His name was on it.
Colton knelt to inspect the envelope. Since nothing seemed out of the ordinary, he broke open the seal. The letter inside was just a simple message, scrawled in the same handwriting as the note in his pocket:
He is in danger.
Come to India.
Tell no one.
There was something else inside the envelope. Pulling it out with shaking hands, Colton found a black-and-white photograph like the one he had of Danny.
This one was of Danny, too, but his back was to the camera. He stood by a pile of rubble in the middle of a circular clearing beside Daphne Richards and two others. The photograph was taken from the viewpoint of someone looking down on them through a window on a high floor.
In the corner of the photograph, a gun was pointed at the back of Danny’s head.