Timekeeper (Timekeeper #1)(11)
What Danny remembered most was Matthias looking after him when his parents went out. The man would feed him stories as the night grew long, stories of his travels—some true, some nothing more than fancy. (“Did I tell you about the time I met a witch in the Bia?owie?a Forest? She said she would put a curse on me if I hurt any of her bison.”) And when Danny was lonely or scared, Matthias would drape a strong arm over his shoulders, keeping him safe and close. Danny needed to feel a measure of that safety right now.
Matthias was teaching a room of apprentices when Danny found him. Matthias was a tall man with a wide chest and a strong jaw, and he normally braided his brown hair, which would have been a source of humor for the younger mechanics if it weren’t for his reputation for winning pub brawls.
But though Matthias could be strong and bold, what Danny liked most about him was his calm, easy manner, so at odds with his own. Even now Danny saw the room of teenagers barely younger than himself and hung back.
“When the pieces of the clockwork are removed, you must be careful to wrap them up and store them, or else they might go missing.” Matthias stood before a sketch of clockwork drawn across the chalkboard, pointing sternly to a cog drawn to one side. A metallic whirring box on the teacher’s desk recorded every word of the lecture, inscribing them with a tin wheel. “The bits of clockwork are still powerful, even when they’ve been removed from the main frame, so these need to be taken back to the office. Never toss pieces away. You get that, you lot?”
He was chorused with yesses and nods. Danny smiled. He had never been in Matthias’s classes as an apprentice, but wished he had been.
“Now then, one last thing before I let you loose. We have a special visitor today who’s going to tell you a little more about how assignments work.”
Matthias nodded to a corner Danny couldn’t see. A tall, blonde girl walked up to the front of the classroom, her broad shoulders held straight and her gait steadfast. When he recognized her, Danny held back a curse.
Daphne Richards. A full mechanic only a year older than himself. She and that snob Lucas Wakefield had been the youngest mechanics on record at eighteen before Danny had snatched the title away, painting a target on his back at the same time.
Since then, the three had used their strengths to demand the most challenging assignments in an effort to outdo one another: Daphne with her intellect, Lucas with his looks and his money, and Danny with his sheer, if sometimes aggressive, determination. It had driven the Lead mad.
Then Danny’s accident had happened.
A twinge of jealousy ran through him. Why hadn’t Matthias asked him to speak to his class? Then again, Matthias had been Daphne’s mentor. Just as Danny’s father had taken it upon himself to teach Danny all he knew, Matthias had chosen Daphne as his junior apprentice. That sort of bond was hard to sever.
Daphne gave Matthias a small smile and turned to the class. Like some of the younger women in London, she chose to wear trousers and a blouse. Her dark jacket helped conceal her curves, but it couldn’t hide the purple diamond-shaped tattoo beside her right eye. He’d once heard an older mechanic call her a walking scandal.
“As many of you know,” she began, “London is the central headquarters for clock mechanic affairs in England. When you’ve passed your assessments to become full mechanics, you’ll have the option of staying here and receiving assignments for towns in and around Greater London, including Essex and Kent. Or, if you prefer, you may relocate to another of the branches, such as in Manchester.
“We’re also developing a new foreign exchange program with clock mechanic unions in China and America. The latter, for example, would allow certain apprentices to visit one of the American union hubs, such as the one in New York.”
As she discussed the exchange program, Danny scanned the room. The boys weren’t paying attention to her; they were either scribbling in their books or staring out the window. The girls, however, were enraptured. One girl was furiously writing down everything Daphne said, getting ink splotches all over her hands.
“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.