Nothing happened.
A ripple ran through him, through the very air, and he could have sworn even the airship shook. Sharp, crisp, just like Khurja.
Edava began to glow, faintly at first, and then brighter, brighter, until the glow disappeared with a blinding blink. People appeared along the coastline, pointing at the Prometheus. They were free. Time was still running.
And the Edava spirit was dead.
“We know you want to preserve the towers,” Zavier said softly. “But sometimes, you have to sacrifice what you want for what’s right. Surely you must understand. And if you don’t yet, you will.”
Danny didn’t realize he was crying until he saw his reflection in the glass. He closed his eyes and slid to the floor, weeping for a soul he had never known, and weeping for a soul he did know. One that these people were trying to erase from his life for good.
Daphne knew she couldn’t hide a clock spirit in her room. Nor could she hide him in Danny’s, as it was regularly cleaned by Indian servants despite not having an occupant. She thought about her options, but when she started plotting how she might smuggle Colton into the Taj Mahal, she knew she’d run out of plausible ideas.
So she went to Captain Harris—of all the officers at the cantonment, she trusted him most—and made an uncomfortable request. “I was wondering if, perhaps, I might have access to another room. A private one that’s out of the way.”
Harris frowned. No doubt he’d been expecting yet another request to join the search for Danny, to which she had been repeatedly told no. “You already have a room, Miss Richards.”
“Yes, it’s just, uh …” A flush crept up her neck. “I need it to practice.”
“Practice?”
“Yes. I … sing. Apparently.”
He brightened slightly. “You do?”
“It’s the only thing that calms me. During this, um, difficult time, I’m in need of quite a bit of calming.”
“That’s certainly understandable. But why would you require another room?”
“Mine’s right in the middle of everything. I don’t want anyone to overhear. It’s terribly embarrassing, but if I had a room that was out of the way …”
“Ah. Let me see what I can do.”
After conferring with the major, he gave her the key to a room in a lonely corner of the cantonment. After all, the major said, they didn’t want her becoming hysterical during this rough patch. Daphne gritted her teeth.
“Just promise you’ll sing for us when we bring Mr. Hart back,” Harris said with a weak smile. He blamed himself for Danny’s disappearance. Crosby had been short with him, and Partha could often be found by his side, concern written in the slant of his eyebrows. Daphne wanted to tell the poor man that there was nothing he could have done, but she knew he wouldn’t listen.
She led Colton to the abandoned room, instructing him that he couldn’t leave under any circumstances. She would lock the door behind her, and keep the key so that no one could get inside. Colton listened in silence, expressionless as he took in the empty, dusty room.
“I’m sorry to leave you here alone, but I promise I’ll come often. We have to be careful now. Until we find Danny, you’re not safe here.” And even if we do find him.
“But when will that be?” Colton asked. “When will they find him?”
“I don’t know, Colton. The major sent out search parties, so maybe we’ll learn something by the end of the week.”
But by the end of the week, there was still no news. Wires had been sent to every major city, to every senior officer who wasn’t currently preparing for the Queen’s celebration in Delhi. They would send back word if they learned anything. Strangely, no wires had been sent to London.
“Surely Danny’s parents ought to be told,” Daphne said to the major.
Dryden coughed into his fist. “You must understand, my dear, that we are responsible for your life, as well as Mr. Hart’s. If word were to get out, there would be an inquiry that would slow our progress. I’m sure we’ll find him in a jiff.”
By the end of the second week, there was still no news.
Daphne begged more cigarettes off Partha. He gave her a disapproving frown even as he handed them over. She slipped him an anna and lit up in her room, needing to settle her nerves somehow.
Two weeks turned into three. Three into four. They were well into December now, and Christmas was around the corner. Daphne asked if the major would finally send a wire to London, but Dryden bumbled through a response that amounted to, “No, not yet.”
To make matters worse, another tower had fallen, this one in Edava, a small town to the south. Daphne begged the major to let her go, but he said he couldn’t risk it.
Meena and Akash were the only reason Daphne wasn’t tearing out her hair. They stayed in their Agra home most days, but often came to the cantonment to see her. The burn on Meena’s cheek was healing, but it would scar.
Akash looked worn thin. One day, Daphne sat him down and asked if he was taking care of himself.
“My needs do not come first. Besides, I know this is hard for you.”
If it was hard for her, it was impossible for Colton. Every time Daphne went to see him, he was sitting preternaturally still, vacant-eyed and quiet. That worried her more than anything else.
She brought him books from the British soldiers, but he barely touched them. He spent his time wrapped up in his own thoughts, his own nightmares.
But Daphne was used to speaking to someone who had become withdrawn.
“Colton,” she tried one day, “please talk to me? It’ll be easier if you shared your troubles with someone. I know you’re upset, but we’re doing all we can. We’ll find Danny, or he’ll come back on his own. He’s strong, remember? He saved you. He saved Enfield.”
The spirit looked at her then. Really looked at her. She was stunned at the level of pain within his amber eyes. It was like falling through an endless hole, never knowing if you would ever reach the bottom.
“He saved me,” Colton agreed, “but I can’t save him.”
“Don’t say that.”
He stood, walking toward the small window at the back of the room. “I’ve been thinking. What if I made myself known? What if the people who took Danny could have me, too?”
“What? No. Absolutely not.”
“They wanted me, obviously, or they wouldn’t have sent that letter. I could take his place.”
“Don’t be absurd.”
Colton clenched and unclenched his hand. “Why is it absurd?”
“It’s more dangerous for you than it is for him!”
Colton turned away in vexation, grabbing the wooden chair beside him and throwing it at the wall. It splintered with a loud crash, and Daphne flinched.
“How can it be more dangerous for me when I’m already—?” He cut himself off, trembling, then sat on the dusty bed and crossed his arms as if he wanted to shrink in on himself and disappear.
Daphne stood there, slightly afraid, wondering what to do. As she took a tentative step toward him, there was a small knock at the door.