“I went out and found the observation deck. I even spoke to the captain for a while about what class of airship the Notus is.”
Daphne knew the way to the mess, as she had gone for some tea earlier. Danny stood to follow her, but hesitated in the doorway. He went back inside, climbed onto one of the benches, and unlocked his trunk.
He took out the cog and brushed his thumb over it, then frowned. Usually, it radiated a tranquil sort of energy, only faint enough to feel if he touched it directly. Now it felt like any other piece of metal.
Probably the distance. Reluctantly, he slipped it into his trunk. The idea of being around soldiers spooked him, and he didn’t want to risk anyone finding it.
As they walked, Danny caught Daphne glancing at him a few times. “You said his name,” she said eventually. “In your sleep.”
Heat rose to his face. He’d been thinking about Colton just before drifting off, wanting so badly to recreate the peace of the night he’d fallen asleep beside him—his arms wrapped around Colton’s body, Colton’s mouth pressed softly to his forehead, bidding him to sleep.
The next few weeks were going to be difficult.
Tables and benches were bolted to the floor of the mess. The hallway outside was cool, but the interior was warmed by the stoves in the back, the air scented with onions. The kitchen was divided from the seating area by a wall with a large window, through which passengers could pick up food.
Some of the soldiers and crewmembers had had the same idea as Daphne and were getting one last meal before landing. Danny saw that the soldiers were indeed eyeing her with undisguised interest. Normally, he wouldn’t want anyone to assume there was any kind of relationship between Daphne and himself, but if that’s what it took to keep their roving eyes away, he’d take up the role like a martyr. St. Daniel, patron saint of keeping soldiers away from girls who didn’t want their attention.
“What are you doing?” Daphne demanded when Danny sidled closer.
“Getting those idiots’ eyes off of you.”
“Don’t you dare put your arm through mine, Danny Hart. I can handle myself.”
“But you said—”
“Never mind what I said. They’ll be gone soon enough.” She gave him a sideways glance. “Besides, what would your darling spirit say?”
Danny remembered the last time Colton had gotten jealous and shuddered.
There were two options for dinner: bubble and squeak, and a steak and ale pie. They both chose the latter. After they received their food, still steaming from the oven, they found seats in the far back corner, Daphne with her back to the soldiers. The men were now engrossed in a loud card game.
Danny blew on his first bite, though the hot gravy nipped his tongue anyway. Daphne ate slower, picking around the crust before taking her first real bite.
“Are you nervous?” Danny asked. He kept wondering what this was like for her, being part Indian.
“A little. I feel … far removed, I suppose. Growing up, I could only rely on what my father told me.”
When she said nothing more, he changed the subject. “What are we supposed to be looking for, anyway? Do they expect us to find the ones responsible for the bombings?”
“I think that’s their job.” With her fork, she pointed at the soldiers, one of whom cried out in delight as he revealed a suit of cards in his favor. “What about you? Are you nervous?”
“Somewhat. I just hope I don’t do anything offensive.”
“I think the British are past the point of offense,” Daphne said dryly.
They discussed what Danny had read and what sorts of food they would likely eat. Danny told Daphne what he’d learned about the rebellion that took place twenty years before and, after some deliberation, even told her about the Enfield rifles. She stopped eating to listen, her eyebrows lowered in thought.
“What a strange coincidence.”
“In any case, rule under the East India Company was one thing, but the British Raj is different. We’ll have to be careful.”
Daphne was quiet, taking small sips of water from a glass stained with fingerprints. Danny finished his pie, even though the carrots weren’t completely cooked through. He was still hungry and debating going up for more when Daphne broke the silence. “Here’s another theory. What if the Indians are destroying their own clock towers?”
“Why would they?”
“If they’re angry—if they want to give the British a good slap in the face—messing about with their own clock towers would do the trick. There was a riot in Rath the same time the tower fell, and a smaller uprising in Khurja. They could have easily been distractions.”
“But how would they keep time running?”
She shrugged. “It’s just something to keep in mind, in case another tower falls while we’re there.”
They sat contemplating this new theory, slightly more probable than the first, though just as confusing. Daphne ran a finger around the rim of her glass and mumbled something under her breath. Danny strained to hear her.
“Hickory dickory dock, the mouse ran up the clock …”
Danny joined in. “The clock struck one, the mouse ran down.”
They were both drawing breath for the last line when the airship gave a sudden, painful jerk. Danny’s chest banged into the edge of the table and their cutlery crashed to the floor.
“The bleeding hell was that?” yelled a soldier from across the room. Some of the men had been thrown to the floor.
Danny rubbed his chest and swore. Daphne looked around. “That didn’t feel like turbulence,” she said as the soldiers and kitchen staff ran from the mess. “C’mon, Danny. Something’s up.”
She sounded frightened, and it doused Danny like a bucket of ice water. When he’d worried about something happening to the airship earlier, he had been in such a state of panic he’d barely been able to think. Now he felt oddly detached, like he was still in his cabin dreaming.
The speakers in the hall crackled, and the sound of Captain Eckhart’s voice came through: “Everyone, please stay calm. There appears to be another airship on the same course as us. It banged up against us—probably an accident. I’m signaling the pilot now.”
But on the word now, another bang sent those in the hallway hurtling into the wall. Captain Eckhart grunted in annoyance. Crewmembers shouted for everyone to please return to their cabins, but it was rather hard when the hull kept shuddering, forcing them to stagger like toddlers attempting to walk for the first time.
“Gunners, to your stations! Everyone, to the emergency landing crafts on wings C and D!”
There were loud, booming noises just outside the airship, striking repeatedly like thunder. Attendants ushered people to the emergency aircrafts. Another hit sent Daphne lurching, and Danny caught her.
“Our things!” he yelled into her ear.
“Leave them!”
But he couldn’t. He had left the small cog in his trunk.