by Tara Sim
“Zounds. No wonder you look older.”
When Danny stepped back, he had to wipe his eyes on his sleeve. Leila cried freely and tried to halfheartedly smack her husband. With her free hand she pulled him down for a rough kiss.
Danny quickly became fascinated with the grass at his feet.
Done for the moment with their reunion, Christopher pecked his wife on the forehead. She wrapped her arms around his waist.
Danny’s father looked him over with a sharp, wide smile. His green eyes, like Danny’s own, shone with joyful tears.
“The spirit told me what you did, Danny. Look at you!” He put a proud hand on his son’s shoulder and shook it. “Saving towns left and right. Where did you learn to do that?”
“From you,” Danny said.
With Christmas around the corner, and her husband safely home, Leila decided to give Danny his present a few days early. He woke one morning to find a new auto sitting at the curb.
“Mum!” he yelled as he ran around in his robe, hair sticking up in all directions. A girl riding by on a brass-plated bicycle giggled at him. “Mum, this is for me?”
“All yours,” she said as his father inspected it. He had bemoaned the loss of his own auto, but now his face lit up like a boy’s. “Had to put in a little extra time at work, but I thought it was time for a change.”
Danny looked at her. All the late nights she was gone, Danny had been convinced it was because she couldn’t stand to be in the same house as him, when all the while …
“Mum,” he began, but he couldn’t find the words. She gave him a tremulous smile. There were still broken pieces at their feet, but in this moment he felt one slide back into place. It was only a matter of time before they replaced the rest.
After Danny and his father played around with the settings and took the auto on its maiden drive—it ran beautifully—Cassie came over to share in their delight. She immediately asked to take apart the engine, to which Danny gave a firm and non-negotiable no.
“It’s one of the newer steam models,” she said, stroking the bonnet. “Much more dependable.”
“It’s really a marvel. You were right, I should have gotten one sooner.”
“See? And yet you never listen to me.” She peered at the driver’s seat. “Will you let me install a new holster?”
“Of course.” He had seen Cassie since the freeing of Enfield, had tripped over his words in his haste to thank her, and to say that she had saved his life. He hadn’t quite expected her to burst into tears and hug him so hard his ribs creaked. It wasn’t the way she’d cried when William died; this time it was with relief.
Cassie leaned against the auto and folded her arms. “So what’re your parents going to do now? Your mum still thinking of taking the new job?”
Danny leaned against the fence across from her. “I don’t think so. Not now that Dad’s back. Honestly, I don’t think she cares where she lives so long as he’s there.”
Cassie nodded, then ran her fingers over the auto’s black finish, unable to help herself. “Well, she did a fine job, picking this beauty out.”
“I think I’m in love,” Danny said.
Cassie looked at him from under her eyelashes. “Speaking of which, what exactly is going to happen now?”
“What d’you mean?”
“You know. You and the ‘blond bloke.’”
Danny looked up at the sky, which was churning with snow clouds that would unleash their burden sometime soon. He reached into his pocket to touch the small cog there, feeling along its edge with a fingertip.
“Did they suspect anything?” Cassie asked, worried by his silence. “Will you be able to see him again? Don’t tell me they sacked you!” When Danny remained quiet, she shoved him. “Tell me, then!”
Danny breathed in deeply. He could smell the snow on the way. “Well …”
His father was told about Matthias, of course. There was no easy way to go about it. Christopher’s disposition remained relatively somber for a few days. When that cloud passed, and they were all smiles again, Danny asked if he was all right.
“It’s a shame that it had to happen to such a good man. He was good, Danny. Was. I don’t know what happened to him.”
“He fell in love. He grew selfish.”
“True love isn’t selfish, Danny.”
They were in the kitchen, sitting at the table while Leila fried eggs. His parents exchanged a small, meaningful smile. “True love is selfless. Sometimes it means you fight for it, and other times, it means you need to let go. You’ll learn that for yourself, one day.”
Danny bit the inside of his cheek. “Dad …” He cleared his throat when Christopher looked at him. “I’m sorry. About Maldon.”
“Don’t be sorry.”
“But I told you to go. None of this would have happened if—”
“If Matthias had done the right thing,” his father finished. “He should have known better.”
Danny pushed the bacon around on his plate. He felt his mother’s eyes on him, saying what Danny already knew: they couldn’t tell Christopher about Colton. Not yet.
Not everything.
His father called him to the door when the post arrived. “Something for you.”
“For me?” Danny never received letters except for payments, but he hadn’t received any of those since being fired.
“Says your name right here.” Christopher handed it to him with a sad smile. “God, every time I see you is a surprise. You’ve grown so much.”
Danny flushed and took the envelope. On the front was his name, but no return address. Someone must have shoved it through the mail slot.
“I’ve got an idea,” Christopher said. “Let’s take a walk to the confectioner’s. Grab ourselves some gingerbread.”
Danny returned his father’s smile. “I’d like that.” He slid his thumb under the flap and tore open the letter, which was only one page. While Christopher looked through the newspaper—“Looks like those tower protests have started up in India, can you believe it?”—Danny quickly read the short message.
Do not think this is finished.
You know something.
We’ll be watching.
“Ticker?” His father looked up to see Danny standing rigid in the entryway, his face pale. “What’s the matter?”
The hairs on the back of Danny’s neck stood on end, and the scab on his palm itched. Somewhere, someone was interested in him. Interested in what he knew.
We’ll be watching.
“Danny?”
He crumpled the letter in his hand. “Nothing. Just some rubbish.”
It was amazing, the difference between the old auto and this one. Danny wished he could have spent his first real drive in a better mood, but as it was, he muttered to himself most of the way.
“Can’t believe—of all the bloody nerve—when I explicitly said—”
He steered easily away from the bump in the road. The old auto had been cleared away by now, and good riddance. Danny didn’t need more reminders of that frantic drive.
When he reached Enfield and parked the auto, he grabbed his bag and slid out. The air smelled fresh and bright. Despite his mood, he stopped to inhale a lungful.
As Danny walked through the green, people saw him and cheered. He waved shyly. Somehow, he had become Enfield’s hero. Although a little pleased with the title, he made sure not to let it go to his head.
Harland gave him a wink as he passed.
All right, not too much to his head.
His smile faded when he thought back to the anonymous letter. We’ll be watching. As he often did now, Danny looked around, but all the faces he saw were familiar. No strangers watching him too closely.
Pulling his scarf tighter around his throat, he banished the thought. There were other things he had to take care of.
First, he stopped by the dilapidated statue. The faceless figure of Aetas stared back at him. Danny took out the small cog and held it to his lips, remembering
the power that had ignited his blood. The thrill of time tangled within his veins.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
Maybe one day he would understand. For now, this was between him and an absent god.
He turned away from the hedge. Within a minute he was standing before the clock tower. Looking up, he spotted the problem that had been reported just this morning after a lazy breakfast with his parents. A small chip of glass was missing from the clock face.
Danny’s mutters began again as he climbed the stairs. He was supposed to have drinks with Brandon today, but upon accepting the job, his apprentice had most unexpectedly called in sick, even giving him a monotone cough through the telephone receiver. Danny had heard better acting from a puppet.
Reaching the clock room, he sighed and set down his bag and coat. When he turned, Colton was sitting on a nearby box. The sight of him made Danny ache.
“I hope you’re happy with yourself,” Danny said, rolling up his sleeves. He gestured at the missing sliver of the clock face. There was a mirroring scar on Colton’s jaw. “The whole town’s shaking their heads at you again. What have I told you about this? You said you’d never do it again.”
“You were gone a long time. I was worried.”
Danny bent down to take out his tools. “Even if I’m gone for a while, you still can’t do this. It’s not healthy for the town, or you.”
Colton shifted. “I didn’t know,” he murmured, “if they would send another mechanic or not.”
“They almost did. I wouldn’t blame them, either.” Danny stood back up, screwdriver in hand. He pointed it at Colton. “But they seem to have had the same thought I did. Since you’ve been such a bother, the Lead’s decided that a mechanic should stay here in town. Permanently.”
The look of alarm on Colton’s face almost made Danny smile, but he kept his face stern.
“Permanently?” Colton repeated. “Who?”
Danny flipped the screwdriver so that it now pointed at himself. “Me, of course.”
There was a stunned silence. Colton’s lips curled upward.
“So excuse me for taking so long, but it’s a bit of a mess reuniting with one’s father, learning to drive a new auto, and packing all in one go.” He glared at the spirit, though his own lips were twitching. “Well? What do you have to say?”
Colton’s grin burst like a firework across his face. Suddenly he was sweeping Danny up in his arms, and they spun dizzily across the floor. Their laughter lit the tower from the inside out, burning into a new star.
It wouldn’t be easy. Being with Colton came with a price, but one that Danny was willing, even glad, to pay. They would be careful. They would be together. They would make it work.
Anything was possible.
A Note on Timekeeper’s London
In Timekeeper’s timeline, the construction of highly mechanized clock towers hundreds of years before the 1870s spurred the Industrial Revolution to happen a great deal sooner than it did in our own timeline. As a result, the England I portray benefits from technological advances that weren’t invented or widespread by 1875. These advances are quite useful for the clock mechanics of London, as they need to relay information and travel quickly.
Below, I’ve listed what liberties I took in portraying this technologically advanced England:
Telephones
In 1861, Johann Philipp Reis developed an electromagnetic device that captured and transmitted sound, including musical notes and spoken phrases. Over the next several years, inventors experimented with audio telegraphs, some of which were achieved using the tones of tuning forks. Inspired by these attempts, Alexander Graham Bell began to tinker with harmonic telegraphs in 1873, which led to an 1875 experiment with his assistant, Thomas Watson, using the first functional telephonic device in recorded history.
Timekeeper takes place in 1875, so naturally, these inventors would have had made major breakthroughs several years earlier in the book’s timeline. Telephones aren’t common in the Timekeeper world, nor do they work particularly well, but mechanics are required to have one in their homes so they can be contacted in the event of emergencies (as we see with Danny and the Lead).
Cars
The first steam-powered vehicle was designed in 1672 by Ferdinand Verbiest, but it was Nicolas-Joseph Cugnot who built the first model in 1769: a steam-powered tricycle. He designed and built other steam-powered vehicles, but they had problems with water supply and steam pressure. Since then, various types of vehicles and engines were tested and tried, but the first motor car in central Europe wasn’t constructed until 1897 by a Czech company called Nesselsdorfer Wagenbau.
Steam-powered vehicles did, in fact, exist during 1875, but they wouldn’t have been the same models that are depicted in Timekeeper. The higher demand for technology launched factories sooner, and in larger numbers. With more resources than the Victorians in our world had, automobiles—or simply “autos”—quickly became a must-have commodity.
Women in Society
Technology and society are intrinsically linked. If one alters, so must the other. In this case, the Victorian society in Timekeeper differs from the typical Victorian culture we’re so used to in many ways, the most obvious being how women are regarded in large cities. During the Victorian era, the issue of women’s employment was fought by tireless feminists, including Millicent Fawcett and Frances Buss. The Society for Promoting the Employment of Women was founded in 1859, led by the Queen herself.
The demand for more technology required more workers. In Timekeeper’s timeline, this prompted women, regardless of class or marital status, to leave the home and seek jobs in industries typically dominated by men.
We see this prevalently in the Mechanics Union. The ability to sense time is one both men and women are born with, which means that, as a matter of course, women should be allowed to become mechanics as well. Although faced with frequent criticism—even from other women in common society—and the stress of needing to prove their worth when their male counterparts do not, the female clock mechanics serve as a positive example for younger women who wish to break out in male-centric fields, such as auto repair. These young women are eager to deviate from their parents’ conventions of dress, speech, and appearance.
Homosexuality
Before 1861, homosexuality was considered a crime punishable by death in England. Though the death penalty was eventually abolished in connection with this “crime,” one could still be sentenced to prison if caught or suspected of homosexual behavior. The most notable example is Oscar Wilde’s 1895 trial and subsequent two-year imprisonment for his relationship with Lord Alfred Douglas.
In Timekeeper, I wanted Danny to be part of a society that was more indifferent than punishing. With the number of secrets he keeps close to his chest, I didn’t want this important, fundamental part of him to be a secret as well. Therefore, just as women’s roles have changed in a shifting society ruled by technology, so too have the laws regarding homosexuality.
There are quite a few differences between the real Victorian England and the one we see through Danny’s eyes, all stemming from the creation of the clock towers and their impact on technology and society. I wanted to blend the traditional with the unconventional to create a strange era of contradictions: advanced technology combined with an old-fashioned aesthetic, evolving gender roles battling stubborn classism. Old and new coexisting in the constant stream of time.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I cannot believe that three years ago, this book was only a small, strange document on my computer. Now it is a physical thing you can pick up and read. How weird is that?
(Very. But also very cool).
Of course, I have to thank the many people who helped me in those three years:
First and foremost, to my amazing editor, Alison Weiss. Alison, you understood this book in a way I thought no one could. Maybe even better than I did. You pushed and challenged me (I might have also done the same to you—sorry), and your unwaverin
g faith in me and this book is what kept me going. Thank you, thank you, a million times thank you. I’m still working on getting you a clock spirit.
To the Sky Pony team: Cheryl Lew, Bethany Buck, Jenn Chan, Georgia Morrisey for the lovely cover, Joshua Barnaby for the kickass interior design, and all the rest: thank you so much for your dedication. And William McAusland for that awesome map!
To my agent, Laura Crockett, who read this and somehow thought, Yup, this is something I want. I will forever be grateful for your support and enthusiasm. Thanks also to the rest of the Triada US crew: Uwe Stender, Brent Taylor, and Mallory Brown.
Liz Briggs, Pitch Wars mentor extraordinaire: I would never have gotten this far without you. You picked this dusty stone from the ground and made it shine. #TeamBriggs 4ever.
Emily Skrutskie, the Cap to my Iron Man, the Burr to my Hamilton, the Hux to my Kylo Ren (yeah, I said it): thank you for putting up with this *gestures to self* and reading everything I shove under your nose, and overall just being a super cool person. Our crossovers will always be things of beauty. P.S. - Please don’t blackmail me.
To Traci Chee, my favorite eighty-year-old woman, and Jessica Cluess, my favorite grumpy driver: you are my pillars. Your advice and wisdom and humor and friendship have meant so much to me. We’ll always have the Circle of Ten. (Also: shout-out to Cole Benton, who got me that one ARC that one time and who sometimes carries my bags. You are one of the Good Ones).
To my fellow Sweet Sixteeners: I’m so proud to be in this group of amazingly talented authors. Thank you for sharing your stories and supporting mine. Special thanks to Heidi Heilig (you are a goddess), Alwyn Hamilton (road trip buddies!), Roshani Chokshi (the sun in my sky), Audrey Coulthurst (I’m dying to try the Timekeeper cocktail), Kelly Zekas (broody boys for the win!), and Kerri Maniscalco (honestly, how do you even exist?).
Victoria Schwab: thank you so much for the lovely blurb, and for being an incredible badass. You are an inspiration.
Thanks to the Class of 2k16 for all their work and dedication. I’ve loved being part of this group.
