Timekeeper (Timekeeper #1)(56)

Then, as if using the eyes of another person, he looked down at the gear embedded in his chest.

He inhaled brokenly, gurgling over the coppery blood that rose in his throat. As it dribbled from his slack mouth, a rumble grew beneath him, and the tower trembled.

For a moment, time started. It flickered into existence like a guttering candle. But just as quickly as it had ignited, it blew out, the light extinguished for good.

The tower began to fall.





Danny was relieved to see no protesters outside the Mechanics Affairs building the next morning. He hid a yawn behind his hand; it was early, but he had to check Daphne’s folder.

He hoped he wouldn’t run into Matthias. Danny was still upset with him for what he’d done, and for all the trouble it had caused him. But it wasn’t Matthias he found in the hall. In a small alcove by a window, a girl sat sobbing into a linen handkerchief. A group of mechanics and apprentices surrounded her, murmuring among themselves.

Danny cautiously moved forward and realized the girl was the one who’d been attached to Lucas’s arm at the social. The one who had sneered at Cassie.

So he’s cut her loose, has he? But that didn’t explain why everyone looked so grim.

Someone noticed him and gasped. The small crowd drew back. Their gazes were wary, surprised, pitying. The crying girl looked up and screeched.

“You!” She staggered to her feet, her eyes red and blotchy as hectic color stained her cheeks. Her friends tried to keep her back as she struggled to fly at him. “Get away from here!”

Danny took a step back. He opened his mouth, but no words came.

“Danny.” An apprentice materialized at his side. Brandon. “You should probably go, mate.”

“Why? What’s going on?”

“He’s dead!” the girl screamed. “Lucas is dead because of that clock tower! Are you happy now? As if hitting him wasn’t enough for you! I wish you’d gone instead of him, that you were the one to—that you were—” She collapsed back into sobs.

People were muttering, some trying to pull her away. Someone tugged on his arm and he obediently followed, too numb to resist.

“Bloody hell,” Brandon muttered. “It can’t get any worse.”

He led Danny to an unused classroom and closed the door behind them. Danny sank into one of the desks and stared blankly at its surface.

“What was she talking about?” Danny rasped.

“Thought someone would’ve told you by now,” Brandon said. “The new tower was destroyed. The older mechanics got out, but they’re fair banged up. Lucas …” Only a shift of his shoulders told Danny he was steeling himself for the next blow. “A gear struck him in the chest and he was crushed by debris.”

At first, Danny thought he’d heard incorrectly. That this was a test or a joke of some sort. But the boy’s eyes didn’t flinch, his face as grim as the ones in the hall.

Danny’s stomach rose into his throat at an alarming speed. He shot out of the desk, fell to his knees beside the rubbish bin, and heaved.

Everything came rushing back in cruel, relentless detail. The sharp gear slicing his chin open. Blood on his skin, hot and slick. Bitter ash in his mouth, the hair-raising scream of grinding cogs. The smell of burning oil, smoke, sweat, terror. The shudder of time crawling to a standstill, the way the fibers had woven around him, squeezing, as if wanting to stop his heart. Danny whimpered, his body wracked with spasms.

I was in an accident. I got out. I’m safe now.

Was he really?

As the attack slowly passed, he shoved the rubbish bin away and coughed, eyes watering. He gasped for air, unable to stop shaking. Unable to stop expecting a death sentence to strike him down.

“The tower …” His voice came out raw. “It fell?”

Brandon nodded. Danny ran his hands through his hair and gripped tightly. He could barely feel the pain along his scalp.

“They found bombs hidden throughout the tower and behind the parts they’d already installed. Tom and George are going to be questioned. Lucas’s funeral is in a few days.”

Danny hid his face in his knees. He thought of Lucas’s body being stuffed into a coffin. He saw himself in that coffin, a gear buried in his chest.

“They don’t blame you,” Brandon assured him. “Not really. You wouldn’t blast apart a tower that could’ve saved your dad. But you did hit Lucas, mate.”

Danny stared at his apprentice until his words made sense. “You think I would kill Lucas?”

“No, frankly, I don’t. The Lead’s saying it’s far more likely the protesters had something to do with it, and anyone that’s been seen outside the office is to be found and interrogated. That’s all I know.”

Brandon opened the door. “All the mechanics and apprentices are invited to the funeral. You’d best come.” He lingered in the doorway. “D’you need anything?”

Nothing you can give me.

“No,” Danny whispered. “Thank you for telling me.” And for not looking at him the way the others had.

Brandon nodded once and left.

Danny wanted to stay tucked away in this corner forever. If he didn’t move, nothing would happen to him. His mother would go about her life, his father would stay trapped, Enfield’s clock tower would go on ticking, and no one else would blame him for anything. A lifetime of regrets and fears ended. His thread uncut, his destiny unfulfilled.