Danny still refused their offerings, and they left him alone. That didn’t mean the others didn’t try to get him into the holiday spirit. Edmund could be heard bellowing carols at odd hours of the day, and Jo had taken to spicing the eggnog and sneaking it onto Danny’s food trays. Some idiot had even hung mistletoe over Zavier’s office door.
Danny wanted no part of it. He kept to himself in his room, curled up on the bed, thinking about his mother and father alone on Christmas so soon after they’d been reunited as a family. Cassie biting her nails as she fretted. Colton needing him. At least in his room, no one saw him give in to frustrated tears.
After the demonstration, Zavier gave Danny some space, then made not-so-subtle attempts to talk to him. Danny resisted all of his advances; it was clear Zavier didn’t possess his aunt’s charm.
Jo ended up relaying all conversation between them, but after a few weeks of this back-and-forth, the young man finally summoned Danny to his office.
When the door opened, Danny was nearly bowled over by a disturbing sight: Zavier, laughing.
Zavier saw him standing in the doorway and his mirth blew out like a candle. A girl sat on the edge of his desk, younger than him by a few years. Danny had seen her a couple of times around the Prometheus, but didn’t know her name. When she turned to look at him, he was startled to see she had Zavier’s gray eyes.
Zavier made a few motions with his hands at the girl, who nodded and gestured back. Danny recognized it as sign language. One of the mechanics back home was deaf and required an interpreter on assignments.
The girl slipped off the desk and smiled at Danny as she walked by, closing the door behind her. Uncertainly, Danny made his way over to a chair.
“Your sister?” he guessed.
“Yes.” Zavier watched Danny carefully, as if he had pointed out a weak spot in his armor. Quickly changing the subject, he said, “I’ve given it some thought, and I think it’s best that I tell you everything concerning Enfield.”
Danny sat up straighter. “You will?” Suspicion tempered his eagerness. “Why?”
“It’s not fair for me to keep the information from you, especially since you’re Enfield’s clock mechanic.”
That couldn’t be the reason, but Danny didn’t argue. Whether it was a new tactic or Jo had convinced him to confess, he needed whatever information Zavier was willing to provide.
Zavier drummed his metallic fingers against the desk. “There is another airship called the Kalki. That crew has their own goals—chiefly, to drive the British out of India.”
Danny sat back. Of all his theories, he hadn’t expected this.
“The Kalki’s crew is made up of Indian rebels who believe that the rebellion twenty years ago should have succeeded. We respect their mission, and they respect ours. Sometimes we work together, help each other if needed. So I know why they attacked Enfield: to Stop the town and cease the production of firearms.”
Danny closed his eyes and thought back to his visit of the weapons factory. He’d known it then, and he knew it now: Enfield should have never been involved in such business. “Well, it sounds like they succeeded,” he said flatly.
“Yes, but not quite. The town Stopped before the tower completely fell.”
Danny opened his eyes. “And Colton?”
Zavier laced his fingers together on the desk. “I may have lied before about not knowing where Colton was. It’s true that we don’t know where he is currently, but we do know that Colton went to London.”
“He—what? How? Why?” When he’d taken Colton to London last year, the spirit could barely keep his eyes open, let alone walk.
“We’re not sure how, but a contact saw him at your house.”
“You—” Danny half-rose out of his seat. “You have spies watching my bloody house?”
“Not consistently, but yes. Also, our spiders listen in.”
“Have you done anything to my parents? I swear to God, if you’ve touched them—”
“No one has touched anybody. They’re safe, Danny. I promise.”
“And Colton?”
Zavier hesitated. “We’re not sure.”
Danny’s limbs shook with rage and fear. His head swam with information, with consequences.
“The rebels have told us that the short supply of guns is becoming troublesome for the soldiers,” Zavier went on, “but it’s not a significant enough move for their cause. They have … something else in mind.”
Danny thought back to the riots he’d heard about, sparking here and there throughout the country. What else could they possibly do?
And then he remembered the dark looks on the Indian soldiers’ faces whenever Delhi was mentioned, the reminder that the Queen was now their Empress, whether they wanted it or not.
“They’re going to do something at Delhi,” Danny concluded. “Aren’t they?”
Zavier studied him, the caution back in his eyes, in the set of his shoulders. Eventually, he nodded.
“They’re going to assassinate the viceroy.”
The words were a kick in the gut. “Assassinate?”
“You must know Viceroy Lytton isn’t popular. When we started working with the Kalki rebels, we struck a deal. They would cause distractions—the riots—so that we could rig explosives within the Indian towers. In return, we’ll give them a distraction when the time comes. Lytton’s going to be at the Delhi durbar to stand in for Queen Victoria during the New Year’s celebration. It’s the perfect opportunity to make sure all eyes are on them, to turn the event into something symbolic.” Zavier shrugged. “We don’t have to like their actions, as long as it helps our mission.”
“All this so you can attack the Delhi tower?” Zavier said nothing, and Danny kicked the desk in agitation. “You’re just going to let them kill a man to be symbolic?”
“It’s not our decision. The Kalki crew has their goals, and we have ours.”
“But you can stop them. Can’t you imagine the panic this is going to cause? How many deaths will pile up on either side?” He thought of his friends caught up in that chaos—Meena, Akash, Daphne. “India is still reeling after the first rebellion. Don’t stand back and let another one happen.”
“I thought you were sympathetic to the Indian cause?”
“That doesn’t mean I want to watch them or my countrymen die!”
“You’re straying from the larger picture.”
“It looks plenty big to me!”
“Time, Danny. Aetas. The towers. Once we’ve solved the bigger problems, we can turn to the smaller ones.”
“This is small to you?”
“Compared to the power of gods? Yes, it is.”
“You’re not being rational.”
“Magic, Danny, is not rational. I thought you of all people would know that.”
Danny clutched the arms of his chair. “I want to go back to my room now.”
“If you wish.” Zavier rose to summon an escort, looking disappointed.
Danny’s mind raced. He had to warn someone. Major Dryden, or Captain Harris, or another officer who could put a stop to this. If only he could get back to Meerut …
An idea struck Danny so suddenly that he nearly wrenched his back turning in his seat.
“Wait!”
Zavier paused, his hand above the doorknob. “What is it?”
“I …” Danny forced himself to look innocent, lowering his eyelashes as he stared at the floor. “Maybe I—Maybe I do want to help you.”