“Give this a try,” Christopher said. Colton’s central cog slid into the holder with a satisfying click. “Feel anything?”
“Sort of.” Colton could sense that the metal holder had attached itself to the power stored within his cog. That power stretched and pulled, a thin strand of time that ran perpendicular to the time of London. If he focused hard enough, he could feel Enfield in that strand—the smell of grass, the glint of the river, the tolling of the church bells.
He slipped the holder on so that the straps hung over his shoulders. Christopher waited for a reaction, staring at Colton’s chest; rather, through Colton’s chest. When nothing happened, his shoulders sagged in disappointment.
“This won’t work. It’ll have to be altered.”
Colton removed his cog before he handed back the holder. “It’s not your fault. It must be difficult, making something that’s never been made before.”
“I just wish it worked.”
“It’s nearly there. I felt a little stronger this time.”
Christopher pursed his lips, just as Leila did when she didn’t know what to say. Colton had noticed that Danny’s parents sometimes mirrored each other in their gestures and voices. It was both strange and sweet, and it made Colton wonder if he and Danny would ever become the same way, so ingrained in each other that they almost started to become one.
I’m acting more human now than I ever did before Danny. I suppose that’s a start.
Christopher looked at the couch, where Colton had left his book. “The Iliad?”
Colton hadn’t even realized that was the book he’d chosen. “It’s a little harder to read than I thought it would be. I liked the story better when Danny explained it.”
“He’s always been a smart boy. Top of his class, quick to learn.” Christopher’s expression turned wistful. “I suppose I can’t call him a boy anymore, can I?”
Colton knew this was personal ground, so he trod carefully. “Why not?”
“The last I saw of him, before I went to Maldon, he was still so young. Only fourteen, still an apprentice.” With one hand, Christopher mimed something growing taller. “Then, in the blink of an eye, he’s a young man and already a mechanic. I wasn’t even here to help him with his assessments. He had to do it all on his own.” He paused, then said in a voice soft and ragged with loss, “I missed three years of his life.”
Christopher dragged his gaze from the carpet to Colton. His eyes harbored accusation, as if already blaming him for a disaster that hadn’t yet unfolded. As if Colton would someday prevent Danny from coming home.
I’m going to do the opposite, he thought fiercely, touching the note in his pocket.
“I should take this back.” Christopher sighed, stuffing the holder back into his bag. “We’ll try again.”
“Mr…. I mean, Christopher? I’m sorry about what Evaline did to you. Your family didn’t deserve it. But … Danny loves you. He always talks about you, and he tried so hard to find a way to free you when you were trapped. I think, in some way, you did help him. He’s determined and hardworking because of you. He has a long future ahead of him, and I won’t do anything to ruin that. I promise.”
Christopher looked momentarily taken aback, but managed a faint smile. “Thank you, Colton. I appreciate hearing that.” He shouldered the bag. “I’ll return in the evening.”
Colton watched him head back into the gray afternoon light. He stared out the window a moment, thinking, then drew the note from his pocket and read it again.
He walked into the hall, ignoring the panicked tug from his central cog. His side gave off a dull pang, but he ignored that as well. He stopped before the hideously green telephone sitting on the wooden table in the hall, wondering how on earth to use it.
Colton cocked his head to one side. Humans made technology look so simple. A less-formidable object sat beside the telephone: a little book filled with addresses and numbers. He opened it and flipped through the entries, delighting in the crisper, higher sound these pages made as he searched for a specific name.
At first, he couldn’t find it. He knew her only by Cassie. But when he went through the pages again, he found an entry that was close: Cassandra Lovett.
Picking up the cylindrical part attached to a wire, Colton hesitated. There was a round wheel in the middle of the clunky base. Christopher, when making calls, stuck his finger in it and turned the dial to the corresponding numbers.
Colton put the cylindrical part to his ear and heard absolutely nothing, a void of sound. The sensation was eerie, so he tried to move the dial with his finger. Since Cassandra Lovett’s number began with a two, he turned the wheel to two. Or at least, he thought he did. He tried the other numbers next.
The soundlessness was broken by a startling ring. Even more jarring was the voice that suddenly issued from the other end. It was male and spoke in a garbled language that Colton didn’t understand.
“Er, hello? Is this Cassandra Lovett?”
The voice kept shouting at him, so Colton quickly hung up. After a moment to collect himself, he attempted the number again, this time being even more cautious about what numbers he turned to.
The telephone rang and rang. Finally, someone responded.
“Hello?”
Colton stood straighter. He knew that voice. “Cassie?”
“Hellooo? Anyone there?”
Why couldn’t she hear him? He looked cluelessly about until he recalled what Mrs. Hart had done while making a call the day before.
He lifted the clunky part off the table to speak into the mouthpiece. “Cassie?” he tried again.
“Yes, who’s calling?”
“It’s Colton. From Enfield?” He wondered if she knew anyone else named Colton. “I’m in London, at Danny’s parents’ house. I wanted to speak with you.”
The line went silent. Colton worried for a moment that he had accidentally called the wrong Cassie, but then he heard her snap, “Stay right there!” followed by a loud click.
He put the telephone back down and closed the address book. So much for that idea. He was wondering if he should try to call Brandon when the front door shuddered under someone’s pounding fist.
“Please open the door!”
Colton hurried to undo the lock, then pulled the door open just enough to peer out. Cassie stood there, red-faced and out of breath. Her auburn hair was frizzing out of its braid.
“It is you!” She pushed him into the house and shut the door behind them. “What are you doing here? Do Danny’s parents know?”
“Yes, I’ve been here about two weeks.”
“Two weeks? But doesn’t that mean Enfield—?”
“Is Stopped,” he confirmed. “The mechanics are trying to keep quiet about it.”
He led her to the back room. His cog stopped pulling at him as he sank back onto the sofa and placed it on his lap. Cassie eyed the cog suspiciously from her seat in an armchair, one leg tucked beneath her. That’s how she sat in his tower, too.
“I can’t believe Danny isn’t here for this,” she said.