“Daphne? Are you all right?”
Meena. Daphne exchanged a look with Colton, but the spirit didn’t budge.
Daphne cleared her throat. “Yes, I’m fine. Is something the matter?”
Silence. Daphne stood still, willing the girl to leave. Then the door slowly creaked open.
“I followed you because Akash wants to see you, but I heard a crash. Are you—?” Meena stopped at the sight of Colton. “Oh. Who’s this?”
But when she got a better look, her mouth parted. “You look …” Meena glanced between him and Daphne. “Who are you?”
Colton stood before Daphne could answer. “My name’s Colton. I came from Enfield.”
Meena gasped. “You are the one. Danny’s spirit.”
Colton perked up, barely registering the alarm on Daphne’s face. “He’s told you about me?”
“A little. But—how?” She glided into the room like a sleepwalker led by a dream. Colton was motionless as she lifted a hand and carefully put it on his arm. She shivered and muttered something in Hindi. “This isn’t possible. It can’t be. A clock spirit from England, in India?”
“We didn’t think time running without the towers was possible,” Daphne pointed out.
Meena exhaled shakily. “This is truly a miracle. It must mean something.”
“Yes, it means that whoever took Danny wants Colton as well,” Daphne snapped. “And we’re not going to let that happen.”
Meena kept staring at Colton, but eventually she bit her lower lip and turned to Daphne. “About Danny. Akash wanted to see you.”
“Akash? Why?”
“He wishes to tell you something. He’s waiting for you outside.”
Daphne wavered. She didn’t want to leave Colton alone with Meena, but the girl was a clock mechanic, the only other one in the cantonment. The only other one she could trust.
And if Danny had told her about Colton, that must mean he trusted her, too.
“Please tell no one about this,” Daphne urged.
“I won’t. Go see Akash.”
Anxiety sank its talons into her lungs as she left the room. Outside, she was greeted by a cool evening, the sunlight persisting even though the first star had already appeared above.
Akash was waiting down the road. He was dressed in his flight suit, goggles hanging around his neck, a pack slung over his shoulder.
“Akash? What’s going on?”
He studied her face with those dark, unreadable eyes. “The soldiers have been keeping me busy delivering messages, and I needed to take care of Meena, otherwise I would have done this sooner. I know you’ve asked to help in the search for Danny and the major won’t allow it, so I’ve decided to go in your place.”
She rocked back on her heels. “What?”
“It’s been too long, and no one’s had any word. I’m going to Meerut to see if I can find any sign of where he was taken.” Akash’s eyes shone, his usual certainty replaced with something calmer, softer. “Wish me luck?”
She threw her arms around his neck. He stumbled back in surprise, then hugged her just as tightly.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you for doing this. Please, please be safe.”
“I will.” He pulled back, then showed her his hand. On the back, he’d drawn a diamond.
“Give me some of your invincibility,” he said. “Give me some of your strength.”
She placed her hand over his, then put them against his chest. “It’s yours.”
Here, at last, hope began to well within her, like a moth emerging after a storm. A whisper against the cold, a flutter of white amid the gray. It was neither beautiful nor ugly; it was the truth of living things.
He leaned toward her, or maybe she was leaning toward him. She could smell him this close—clean and earthy, like the plains after a monsoon.
Their lips touched, just barely at first. Then he pulled her in. She didn’t know what to do with her arms, so she wrapped them around his waist. It felt good to hold him, to keep him together and prevent the pieces of him from drifting apart. As if she were weaving a protective spell over his body, warm and solid against her own.
Two more stars had joined the first by the time they separated. They breathed in the quiet evening air and avoided looking into each other’s eyes. She was afraid that if she did, it would be for the last time.
He turned, and she watched him go, still feeling the phantom pressure of his lips on hers.
“Akash,” she called. He looked over his shoulder. “Come back. Come back with him.”
He smiled slightly. “Haan, Miss Richards.”
Days passed as Danny wasted away in his room. Zavier and the others insisted that he could walk around, that he didn’t have to act like a prisoner, but he knew that as long as he remained on the airship, that’s exactly what he was. One small step into their territory and he’d be lost.
As if he would agree to help them now. After their demonstration, he had spent the rest of the day in his room thinking about Enfield and Colton and what the Prometheus crew intended to do. How their actions would necessitate the death of Colton and everything he loved. Everything that made him Danny Hart.
They fed him three times a day. They let him bathe, and even gave him a razor to shave when the stubble grew too uncomfortable. Jo came every day to speak with him, and left behind books: Ovid, The Aeneid, Dante’s Divine Comedy. Danny liked to pass the time by imagining which circle of Hell was reserved for each passenger of the Prometheus. Zavier was easy: the Outer Ring of the Seventh Circle, where those violent against property were thrown into a boiling river of blood and fire, then shot with arrows by centaurs. At least it provided Danny with pleasant daydreams.
He knew he was losing weight. His skin, which had browned in the sun, was fading back to its usual pallor. The worry ate his bones—worry about Colton, his parents, Meena, Daphne, Harris, and the others. What were they doing in the wake of his disappearance? Were they searching for him? Did they think he was dead?
Loneliness took the shape of a dark skyline, so far-reaching it was difficult to find where it ended. If it even had an end.
The worst of it was when the ship prepared for Christmas. Danny had no idea how much time had passed until then, and it was a shock to his system. Red and gold streamers lined the hallways, bells jangled in all corners of the ship, and someone had even put a wreath on his door. He tore it down the moment he saw it.
Liddy and Prema made cookies and offered him some. Danny refused.
“It’ll do you no good to mope,” Prema said gently. “Have one. Please?”
“No, thank you.”
“Probably thinks we’ve snuck some sort of drug in ’em,” Liddy sneered. She bit off the head of a gingerbread man, making exaggerated chewing noises. “Yum, no drugs!”