Ticker (14 page)

That was the moment he broke; I saw it happen as clearly as if he’d cracked in half.

After that, there was nothing. Nothing until I woke with a bit of clockwork machinery lodged in my chest. A piece of technology I was never meant to test. Ticktock was the reminder it gave me with every passing second.

Looking at my brother now, I knew I wasn’t the only one with scars. After a year of shadowboxing, it seemed only willpower and the quiet determination to keep me alive kept
him
going.

“Every time you die, it breaks something inside me.” Nic let out a harsh breath. “What if I can’t get your Ticker restarted the next time your balance wheels go off-kilter?”

“Cygna was only a day old when she passed. Dimitria made it to eighteen.” I drew my knees up, wrapping my arms about them
and resting my chin atop. “The Farthing women tend to leave the party without notice.”

“Don’t say that.” He swallowed so hard that I could see the knot in his throat bob down and up again. “You can’t leave me here by myself. The only Farthing boy. The only one without a death sentence hanging over my heart. Mama and Papa already look through me, trying to see where you are, what you’re doing, how you’re faring. If you die, they’ll never see me properly again.”

I would have argued, but I felt much the same after Dimitria died, like I was the ghost haunting the house. “I won’t go quietly, Nic. To my last breath, I’ll be kicking and screaming and fighting to take another.”

“With Warwick’s help, you wouldn’t have to,” he said softly.

“He took our parents, Nic. How can you trust him?”

“I . . . I guess I can sympathize. Always trying to do the right thing, even when loved ones fight you every step of the way.” Reaching past me, he snagged my messenger bag. A quick rummage produced Papa’s watch. “Mind if I hold onto this for a bit?”

I leaned against his shoulder. “A sundial isn’t going to be of much use by firelight.”

“True.” Nic snapped it open and lifted the metal dial into place. “But maybe it will keep me from wandering too far afield in my dreams.” Pressing the briefest of kisses to my forehead, he made his way to one of the unoccupied beds and climbed in.

I also retired, though I didn’t think I’d sleep at all. Staring at the top bunk, I listened to the soft, even breathing of the others. The fire was mere embers by the time I relaxed enough to drift off. Swirling in my head like fog off the River Aire, the events of the day largely featured the honorable Marcus Kingsley and the expression on his face when he’d placed the iron bracelets on my
wrists. Recalling him there, on bended knee and looking up at me so earnestly, did very odd things to my Ticker.

I rolled over and put the pillow atop my head.

“Penny?” A gentle hand on my shoulder roused me.

“I can fetch a bucket of water,” said someone decidedly masculine.

My brain skipped about, leaping to the realization that Sebastian and Violet stood over me, that I wasn’t in my own four-poster bed, that this wasn’t Glasshouse at all, and that my hair must look a fright.

Being a layabout isn’t one of my countless faults, and I can go from asleep to awake faster than Sebastian’s Combustible can charge down a thoroughfare. “What time is it?”

“Rise-and-shine time.” Violet was already dressed in a gown of navy silk twill, expensive for all its lack of frills and fussing. It was strange to see her so somberly dressed, but she’d made it her own with an acid-green sash and a matching ribbon tied about her head.

I squinted at the clock on the mantelpiece. “Did I miss breakfast?”

“Perhaps that’s where he went,” Sebastian said, turning to stir up the fire in the hearth. He wore a suit that was not his. Though it lacked the impeccable tailoring that was his calling card, he looked affably rakish, as usual.

“Where who went?” I stretched to remove the kinks from my spine.

“Nic was gone by the time we woke up,” he clarified.

Violet sniffed to indicate that my brother’s whereabouts were of no interest to her. I, however, sat up and cracked my head on the wooden slats of the bunk above.

“He’s not here?”

“I checked the lavatories already,” Sebastian said, clearly puzzled by my reaction. “But not the dining hall.”

An uncomfortable tingling took up residence in my spine and tickled at the back of my brain, like I needed to sneeze but couldn’t quite manage it.

Damn it, Nic, I was worried enough about Mama and Papa. Now I have to worry about you as well?

I could easily imagine his retort of “Turnabout is fair play.”

Hastening from the bed, I ran my fingers through the snarled mess that was my hair and cast about for something to wear. “Why didn’t you wake me earlier?”

“You still have circles under your eyes from yesterday, and we thought you could use an extra hour.” Violet had approximately four hundred and seventy-three frowns in her repertoire, which ranged from “The Biscuits Went Flat” to “You’re Being Dreadfully Annoying.” Just now, still peeved with my brother, she wore “Don’t You Use That Tone of Voice on Me.”

“There’s an hour, and then there’s an hour,” was my response as I twitched aside the collar of my nightdress. Inserting the key into the Ticker’s faceplate, I turned it for the first of a hundred clicks with a wince; the touch of the cold metal was like splashing ice water over my face. “I assume there’s a dress for me?”

“There is.” When I was done with the winding, Violet handed me a skirt and bodice of bottle green, then flapped her hands at Sebastian. “Turn your back, please.”

“And here I thought I would be allowed to witness that mystery of mysteries, a lady’s toilette,” he said as he obliged.

She slapped his shoulder anyway. “Don’t be pert.”

Fingers flying, I dressed in record time. Dreadnaught would have marveled at the sight of it. “Despite his other shortcomings, Marcus Kingsley has decent taste in clothing.”

“Impressive how he got your measurements so close to perfect,” Sebastian said, peeking over his shoulder with a wicked grin.

Violet forced me to sit long enough for her to plait my hair and coil it at the nape of my neck. “We’ll probably have to take one of those SkyDarts back to the city,” she said, her words muffled by a mouthful of pins. “No need to look a right mess when we arrive.”

“Breakfast first.” Sebastian checked his pocket watch as he led the way to the door. “I warn you, I’ll start nibbling the draperies if I have to wait much longer.”

The commissary was a shifting sea of gray wool, so Nic would be easy to pick out. Indeed, the dresses Violet and I wore, plain as they were in contrast to our usual attire, drew a bit of attention. In his midnight black three-piece suit, Sebastian enjoyed himself thoroughly, strolling like a gentleman taking the air, greeting every enlisted man and woman, officer and private alike, with his dimples on full display.

“Stop that,” Violet hissed at him as she slid into a chair. “You’re making an utter ass of yourself.”

“I can’t seem to help myself,” Sebastian said without taking his eyes off the group sitting adjacent us. “Life is short, so I’m going to have dessert whenever possible.”

The morning papers were stacked on the sturdy oak tables. Although filled with coverage of the courthouse blast, they contained precious little information beyond the ugliest of details:
“The damage to the structure is worse than originally reported.” “Twenty-seven people were rushed to Currey Hospital.” “Eleven Dead!”

More people had died as a result of their injuries, then. I glanced over the worst of the headlines, my stomach sinking further with each typeset word. By the time I finished, I had no appetite, though I had to eat or suffer the consequences later. The military’s idea of a simple repast meant that the rolls were plain instead of braided and the butter wasn’t carved into rosettes. Brawn and galantines quivered alongside fish kedgeree and crinkled strips of bacon. Homely stewed prunes occupied the space next to a platter of fresh apricots and strawberries. I studiously avoided the foods that wobbled, making my way through a plate of bread and fruit.

“Where’s the tea?”

I’d barely finished the request when an arm reached past me and delivered a pot to the table. I twisted about to thank the server and found myself looking up at Marcus Kingsley instead. I instantaneously realized I had half a dozen hairs out of place and shadows under my eyes from staying up too late. Everyone else shot to attention and didn’t relax until he’d taken a seat just to my right.

“I hope you all slept well,” he said by way of greeting. Sebastian and Violet murmured their thanks for the comfortable beds and clean linen. When they returned their attention to the food, Marcus moved an inch closer to me and lowered his voice. “You’re uncharacteristically quiet this morning, Tesseraria. Are you feeling well?”

“I’ve a bit of a headache.”

And that headache is my twin.

“Rest easy that I will not add to it.” Marcus poured out a cup of tea and passed it to me. “I’ve given myself a strict lecture about
what’s important, and my top priority is locating Warwick and your parents.”

As I tried to find a way to explain that we might need to add Nic to that list, Marcus passed me the cream and sugar bowl.

“I’d also like to offer an apology,” he continued. “I’m not enormously fond of surprises, and I’m afraid I blamed you for much of the chaos yesterday. I do my best to plan against the worst possible scenario, but you make that a bit difficult.” With a crooked smile, he took a plate and spooned out a heap of scrambled eggs. “Have you eaten yet? Or are you one of those people who can’t stomach food first thing in the morning?”

Forgetting her grievances with the world, Violet smiled into her teacup. Sebastian outright choked on a mouthful of bacon.

“You have no idea with whom you are dealing,” he finally said when he’d cleared his airway. “I’ve seen Penny reduce an entire cake to crumbs.”

I glared at him. “It was a very small cake.”

“But of course,” Marcus said. “And just what the table is missing. I forget, sometimes, that civilians enjoy more varied fare.” He went to signal a passing waiter, but I caught his hand in mine.

“Please don’t trouble yourself.” Thinking of the danger my brother might be swimming in by now, my fingers clenched Marcus’s. “Have you seen Nic anywhere about the Fortress this morning?”

“I was just going to remark upon his absence,” Marcus said, studying my hand before continuing. “We’re not in the habit of pulling guests from their beds in the night, if that’s what you’re implying.”

I wrestled with my conscience and my sense of family loyalty. If Nic had gone back to the house and found the Augmentation papers, Marcus needed to know about it. There were also the
bracelets to consider; I owed him the truth and was honor-bound to share whatever information I had. It was the only way to see the complete puzzle for what it was. “Is there any way he could have gotten back to the city this morning?”

Though Marcus didn’t move, every line of his body suddenly indicated we were in the presence of the Legatus legionus. “Why would he leave you behind?”

Softly worded, but still an interrogation. Though I’d never smoked a day in my life, I almost wished for a cigarette to better play the part. “He’s operating under the misguided notion that I need to be rescued from myself. I think he’s gone back to look for the Augmentation papers.”

“Why didn’t he say something to us first?” Violet set down her spoon with a clatter, her expression quickly shifting from peevish to puzzled to a level of worry that almost matched my own.

“He wants to turn the papers over to Warwick.” It hurt me to admit such things; I wasn’t accustomed to the role of Vile Betrayer, and there was a desperate edge to my words, an unspoken plea not to judge my brother. “Warwick claims he can upgrade my Ticker if he can only get a look at the original diagrams.”

The onslaught of information caused Marcus to fumble, putting his teacup down with a
clack!
on the table. He recovered quickly, though, tapping out several inquiries on his RiPA.

“One would almost think,” Sebastian murmured into his napkin, “the good Legatus is growing accustomed to the perpetual chaos that surrounds you and yours, Penny.”