“Something of the sort. Come down when you can.”
Danny began to sweat on his way to Parliament Square. Had the officials heard about his extra trips to Enfield? Had someone seen him talking to Colton? Was there news about Rotherfield or Shere? The wind bit and rain splattered his goggles, but Danny barely noticed. He nearly caused two major collisions before the auto came sputtering to a stop in front of the large gray stone building.
There were only a couple of protesters out today, soaked and discontent. Danny hurried past them into the atrium, where he slipped a little on the marble on his way to the stairs.
The secretary was out, so he knocked on the Lead’s door and waited for permission to enter. When he did, he found the man seated behind his desk. The kinetic toy in the corner was pattering away, the metal balls jumping back and forth. Danny took that as a bad sign; the Lead only did that when he was stuck on a problem.
The Lead stopped the toy and regarded Danny, his look more kind than stern. “Sit down, Daniel.” He did. The Lead stroked his mustache, though Danny wished he wouldn’t. It only made the situation seem more sinister.
“Daniel, how have you felt about your assignments in Enfield?”
Danny sat back and tried not to stammer into apologies. “They’ve been fine, sir. A bit labor-intensive, but that’s to be expected.”
“Yes, that’s what I was afraid of. I thought the best way for you to return to work was with a difficult assignment. And it seemed to do the trick, but then more followed. I can only imagine how tiring it must be for you.”
Danny’s hands curled into fists on his knees. He imagined trapping the pity against his palms, crushing it like Aetas had crushed his own beating heart.
“No, sir, it’s nothing like that. I’ve actually enjoyed my time there. The people know me now, and the town is—”
“You don’t have to pretend. I know it’s been a strain on you.”
“But it hasn’t. I’ve—”
“I don’t want to exhaust you so soon after your return to work. I’ve heard that this town is not the best fit for you.”
Danny’s stomach hardened into a cold, heavy ball. He licked dry lips and tried again. “Who’s been saying that?” He thought about Brandon and how he’d looked at Danny like he had come to England directly from the planet Neptune. He thought about Daphne’s look of suspicion as he’d slipped out of Tom’s office.
“I would rather not reveal identities, but it’s an opinion I trust, and I want to make sure you’re well. Enfield is too difficult for you. I’m reassigning it to someone else.”
“Someone else?” The room grew hot and close. Danny smelled smoke. It burned his eyes and wove into the fibers of his shirt, a smell he couldn’t get rid of no matter how many times he washed it. He tasted copper on his tongue, rich and thick, cloying like blood.
He imagined the destruction that Colton Tower would face if he didn’t return, his threat of finding another mechanic turning the spirit toward grief, just like Maldon.
Colton, pulling apart his clockwork.
Enfield, Stopped.
“Daniel? Daniel!”
He must have fainted, because he awoke on the floor a moment later. His cheek was pressed to the maroon carpet that smelled of musk and canvas. His heart pounded, and he pushed a hand against his chest as if to prevent it from bursting out of his body.
“Sir, you can’t do that,” he croaked. “He’ll be upset.”
The Lead knelt beside him. “You’re not talking sense. Come on, up you get.”
Danny raised himself up and rubbed a hand over his numb face. “Please, listen to me. I … I like Enfield. I really do. I didn’t think I would, but—”
The Lead shook his head. “No, I see now that this was not the right assignment for you. I’ll find someone else to go up next time. You rest at home for a bit, take your mind off things. Take a holiday.”
“Sir, please—”
“I’ve had my say, Daniel. Your father would have wanted the same.”
You don’t know what my father would have wanted.
Danny was ushered to an empty sitting room and ordered to lie down on the couch. Tea and biscuits were brought in, but he didn’t touch the tray. At least, not at first; he couldn’t avoid the tea for long, and drinking it helped steady his shaken nerves.
Standing at the window, he looked at Big Ben through the rain. He couldn’t let this happen, even if the Fates themselves had woven this turn of events. No matter where his thread ended up, he would spin it in his favor.
You don’t look happy at all,” Cassie complained, fiddling with the buttons of her dress. “I don’t want to be seen with a dismal Jimmy. At least try to smile, Dan.”
“Hark who’s talking,” he mumbled. “You look ready for your own execution.”