“Are you all right?”
“Yes.” But Colton touched his chest again, as if expecting to find his own heartbeat there.
Danny decided that he needed to ask Matthias about the strange reaction at Colton’s tower. Matthias was finishing a class when Danny arrived, so he waited by the door as the man summarized the apprentices’ latest lesson.
“And remember, always keep a log. It’s important for other mechanics to see what work you’ve done.” Good thing Danny had been submitting reports under Daphne’s name, though shame gnawed at him each time he did. “For next week, I’d like you all to read the chapter on Newton’s laws of time and space, as well as the one on Nicolas Fatio de Duillier and his use of jewels as wheel bearings. Both very important mechanics in their time.”
The apprentices filed out, a mix of boys and girls around twelve or so, eyeing Danny curiously as they passed. There were some whispers—“I heard he hit another mechanic”; “I thought the Lead demoted him”; “Do you suppose he got that scar in a fight?”—but Danny forced himself to smile. That seemed to scare them more.
A couple apprentices stayed behind to ask Matthias questions about their latest assignment. When they left, Danny entered the classroom.
“Hello there, Danny Boy. I feel as if I hardly see you these days.”
“I’m sorry, Matthias. I—”
“You don’t have to explain to me,” Matthias said, shuffling his papers. “You’ve got a lot on your plate. You have a certain look, though. Has someone caught your eye?”
Danny blushed to his roots. It’s that obvious?
“You’ll have to tell me all about her. Rather, him,” Matthias amended with an apologetic smile. “Sorry. Sometimes I forget.”
“It’s fine.” Danny picked at his shirtsleeve. “I just wanted to say hello, and to ask a quick question.”
“You have more exciting things to do than to talk to an old man, I know. At least you have more time to rest now that you don’t have those awful Enfield assignments anymore.”
“I don’t need—” Then the words registered, and a strange ringing started in his ears. “How do you know I’m no longer assigned to Enfield?”
A small shift in Matthias’s eyes revealed the truth.
“You told him,” Danny said slowly. “You told the Lead to take me off that job.”
Matthias took a deep breath, as if he’d expected him to figure it out sooner or later. “Danny, I was worried about you. You looked ill, and from what you told me, it was obvious you weren’t fond of those assignments. What with the clock falling apart, I thought it was too much for you, considering everything else that’s happened. You being hurt, your mother—”
“That’s none of your concern!” Danny’s voice burst out of him, too loud, too angry. He tried to rein it in. “I can make my own decisions.”
“I’m sorry. I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought it would give you some time before Maldon to recuperate, but then you went and hit Lucas. That’s not like you, Danny.” Matthias paused as if waiting for him to respond. “What’s so important about Enfield? It’s just a little town. You said so yourself.”
Danny forced himself to breathe evenly, wanting the ringing in his ears to go away. His anger blew out just as suddenly as it had come, and he was left feeling achingly empty.
“Sure,” he mumbled. “Just a town.”
“Danny—”
“Stay out of my affairs, all right? I don’t need you and Mum looking over my shoulder every minute.”
Before Matthias could apologize again, Danny turned away.
On the stairs, each step was a clap of thunder through his body, drowning out the question he had come to ask. All this stress, all this trouble, all this subterfuge, just because Matthias still saw him as a sickly boy who should stay in bed.
As if that were going to stop him now.
The atrium was blinding, the sun absurdly bright despite the freezing temperature outside. In his rush to get away from Matthias, Danny hadn’t even bothered to wrap his scarf around his neck before he burst out the doors.
It was a mistake. As soon as he emerged into the din of the protesters, two armies split by the entrance, someone grabbed his scarf and pulled. It slithered off his neck and the cold pierced the skin of his throat.
“Hey!” He reached for his scarf, but an obscenely tall young man held it far above his head. The young man’s brown hair was shaggy, his grin toothy.
“We finally have someone’s attention!” he crowed.
The others on the anti-tower side hooted as the young man spun the red scarf above his head like an American cowboy with a lasso. Danny clenched his hands into fists.
“Give it back,” he demanded. The others tittered, amused by his rage.
The young man wrapped the scarf around his own neck. “Only if you agree to listen to our terms.”
“What terms?”