He wrapped both arms about her, hugged her close. Kissed the top of her head. “It’s over. He can’t hurt you any longer. Is that all?”
She nodded, her hair making rasping sounds against his jacket.
They stood together for a while. Time flowed past like a languid river, washing away all her past, all the torment and pain. I’m free. She let Theo’s presence melt through her. For once, she didn’t mourn the loss of a family that had never been—an ache she’d always carried inside her. Theo was more than enough.
“So,” Theo said. “You were Inkline’s bodyguard? He was a diplomat?”
She nodded. If she could have hidden inside his jacket, she would have.
“Then that’s all we have to tell Dankyo. I’ll let him continue his investigations. Maybe concentrate on this Inkline. Something must have stirred up the Brito-Gallic League, for them to attack this ship. There’s…only one other question I have to ask, because Dankyo will raise it, and I need him to believe in you as much as I do. So, here it is. You’d never do anything to hurt me, would you, Claire?” His embrace didn’t change in any way, yet he held his breath. Claire’s heart stuttered.
“No! Of course not. I would never hurt you.”
“And my men, the people who work for me? I am their protector as much as they are mine.”
“No. Truly, if I could, I’d not hurt anyone, ever again. You do believe me?”
He took a breath. “Yes. I do. That’s all I needed to hear.”
He patted her hair for a while longer. She cuddled in and let the tension in her muscles soften. Safe. I’m safe.
Theo opened his arms and let her loose. “Come. Back to the gyrocopter, and let’s do something cheerful. I’ll go downriver toward the coast. There’s a good private spot I know of.”
Having restarted the gyrocopter, they boarded it. The land fell away from them. On the eastern horizon a great line of steel gray clouds hunched like a monstrous beast. Claire watched the airship’s remains dwindle. With Inkline dead, surely any assassination plot would fail. It couldn’t have been this Theo. He was important, but not that important. Even if it was him, she’d never let anyone near. Never. She’d know another frankenstruct in an instant.
The alternative was revealing everything to Theo—what she could do and what they’d wanted her to do. It had the potential to destroy this fragile little world she’d found. The gyrocopter whirred on, blades whistling, cutting the air into a million turbulent pieces a few feet above.
Visions flickered in her head—of the airship from above and the fig tree with the tangle of exposed roots. Of roots snaking along the ground, clawing aside dirt, flinging papers into the air that fluttered back to earth in a burning rain. Her dream. She’d seen this one every night. Smoke and fire and falling and…
She remembered the crash. The aftermath, lying under a weight of hot metal and debris. Cold ground by her side. Blood in her mouth. At the base of the fig tree, Inkline furtively carrying something yellow…something yellow. Her assignment folder.
The purr and whistle of the gyrocopter yanked her back to the present.
Sweet heavens. She’d seen him after the crash, alive. Inkline was alive. Claire sank her face into her palms, peering through blurred fingers at the back of Theo’s seat. What can I do? Inkline never gives up. He’ll return and find me and make sure my assignment is carried out. He’ll drag me back to the PME.
It was that simple. The tipping point that drove her into the flesh-numbing air of a black reality. She remembered Theo’s last question and replayed his response. He hadn’t quite believed her. No matter what he’d said, she was sure he doubted her, and now it seemed he might be right. For if Inkline gave her a direct order, standing in front of her, she didn’t really know what she’d do. Disobeying him seemed incomprehensible.
She crunched her fists until the fingernails bit deep into her palms. When she opened her hands, on each palm was an irregular line of bloodred crescents.
No. Stop. Hadn’t she learned anything these last days? She was stronger than she’d once thought. She could do this. She could refuse Inkline if he turned up. Just because she never had, didn’t mean she couldn’t.
How ridiculous—to cave in when she’d not seen Inkline for days. But she had been living inside a fantasy. She’d wanted so much to be somebody, she’d blinded herself. Only now she could see through the cracks in her bubble of glass. Something would go wrong, eventually.
She lifted the goggles and wiped at her eyes. She needed to be vigilant, in case everything disintegrated around her.
Curls of Theo’s black hair stuck out at odd angles where the goggle strap mussed it up. Hand trembling, she stretched and touched it, letting a curl run fluttering in the wind across her skin. A plan? Should she assemble one? Maybe tomorrow. Right now she wanted to live, to enjoy the moments she had.