“We’re also in the process of beginning an exchange program with India,” Daphne went on, and Danny’s attention snapped back to her. “Indian apprentices can come to London to learn, and London apprentices can go to Delhi, or one of the other large cities, to study Indian tower design.”
Danny watched her face as she continued to discuss plans for the new program. He knew—was one of the few mechanics who knew—that her father had been half Indian. No one would guess it, looking at her skin and her hair and her eyes. Danny certainly wouldn’t have known if Matthias hadn’t accidentally let it slip years ago.
There were many who opposed the idea of a female clock mechanic at all, let alone one with foreign blood. Despite their history, Danny couldn’t help but feel an unspoken understanding. There were some things you were better off keeping to yourself, if you could.
Daphne finished her speech just as a steam whistle blew, signaling the end of class. The apprentices rose with a rustle of papers and the scraping of chair legs while Matthias thanked Daphne for her time. As she headed out the door, her pale blue eyes locked onto Danny’s.
“Mr. Hart,” she said coolly.
“Miss Richards.”
When she and the students had all gone, Danny slipped inside the classroom. Matthias flipped a switch on the recording mechanism to power it down.
“Danny Boy.” Matthias grinned. “How was your assignment? We heard about the missing numeral.”
Danny rubbed the back of his neck. “Could’ve been worse. How are you, Matthias?”
“Could be worse,” he echoed. “What happened?” Danny told him about the melted numeral and how it had been found.
Matthias whistled. “And it just happened to be found by a man who melts iron for a living?”
“It’s fishy, isn’t it?” Danny sat on top of a wooden desk in the front row. “Now there’s a report that the minute hand’s been bent. I still think it’s the ironworker, but the Lead doesn’t suspect him.”
Matthias started erasing the clockwork sketch. “You’ve been reading too many detective books.”
“Says the man who got me to read them in the first place.”
Matthias shrugged in mock guilt.
“Do you think I should do something? About the ironworker.”
“If the Lead doesn’t suspect him, I doubt there’s anything you can do. Just complete the assignment as best you can.”
Not quite the answer Danny wanted. If it hadn’t been the ironworker, then who could have stolen the numeral? He thought about the protesters outside and his shoulders tightened. He thought also about the mechanics who had been at the Shere tower before him, who would have had plenty of time to hide a bomb within the clockwork.
Someone had carved the initials E.B. into the desk on which he sat. He traced the letters with his fingertip, trying not to think about his scar, where the clock had carved its own initials into his skin.
Matthias noticed the shift in Danny’s mood. “Was the assignment hard for you, after what happened?”
“It wasn’t hard at all,” he lied. “It’s my job.”
“Danny.”
He sighed. “Yes, it was hard. Would you be surprised if it wasn’t?”
“I don’t blame you for being scared.” Matthias sat on the professor’s desk, facing him. “It’s only been a few months since the accident. Your mother says you’re still having nightmares.”
Of course his mother heard him screaming at night. Not like she would bother asking him about it in the morning.
Matthias frowned. “We’re worried, Danny.”
“Look at me. I’m fine.”
Matthias studied him a moment, then stood and walked up to Danny with his little finger extended. “You’ll swear on it?”
It was a custom Matthias had learned in China when he’d visited as a much younger man. He had taught it to Danny a long time ago.
“Matthias,” he groaned. “I’m too old for that sort of thing.”
“You’re never too old to tell the truth.”
Danny rolled his eyes and held up his own little finger to entwine it with the man’s thicker one. They shook.
Matthias lightly cuffed his head. “You should be off. You have menacing ironworkers to question and clocks to save.”
Danny noted the rings of exhaustion under Matthias’s eyes. The man had had a scare when he heard of Danny’s accident. Matthias didn’t have many people in his life to fuss over, which meant Danny got the brunt of his protectiveness.
But maybe he looked tired for another reason. Danny wondered if the apprentices had been talking about Matthias behind his back again.
“Go on,” Matthias urged with a shooing motion. Danny slipped off the desk and wondered if there would ever come a time when adults stopped treating him like a fragile object.
He needed to go downstairs and wait for the new minute hand. Trying to distract himself from wondering what the protesters would do if they saw the part in his arms, Danny walked down the hall and glanced at the paintings as he went. He slowed to a stop when he came to the one he knew best. His father’s favorite.