Firestarter

by Tara Sim

  “Danny,” he breathed.

  Danny couldn’t move. He stood there, mouth still parted, as his father strode across the kitchen and wrapped him in his arms. He was a child again, reaching desperately for the lock above his head; wanting to be small, to be safe, to have his father lift him off the floor and tell him everything would be all right.

  “Oh, God, Danny.” Christopher’s words were muffled in his hair. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

  Danny didn’t want to let go, but his father leaned back and lifted his face. He looked older, the crow’s feet at his eyes now matching his mother’s.

  “What happened, Ticker?” Christopher asked softly.

  The question unstoppered the well of emotions he had been trying to keep down. He was only dimly aware of resting his head on his father’s chest, of smelling the familiar scent of oil and wood shavings. Of hands rubbing his back, and a soothing voice whispering in his ear.

  He didn’t deserve it, any of it. He had helped destroy clock towers. He had been helpless to save a friend. He had killed a man. His body was covered in his failures, betraying him with scars.

  “Danny!”

  He was hit by a waft of cigarette smoke before he found himself looking into his mother’s dark eyes. She was incomprehensible, babbling questions as she kissed his cheek, clutching him and crying as she stroked his hair.

  “They said you were taken,” she kept sobbing. Her brown curls were coming undone from her coiffure, tickling his face whenever she leaned in to kiss him again. His voice bubbled over a laugh and he hugged her back, feeling too large and awkward beside her thin, narrow body.

  “Leila, let the boy breathe.” But his father was grinning from ear to ear. “I don’t think he’s said a single word yet.”

  Danny opened his mouth, but couldn’t find any words. A rustle in his mind reminded him that Colton was there, and he looked to him for help. His parents followed his gaze and started.

  “Colton!” Leila shouted.

  “Where the hell were you?” Christopher demanded, but Danny grabbed his father’s arm.

  “He came to find me. To save me. Please, don’t be angry with him.”

  Colton had stood up from the kitchen table to watch the reunion. He lingered in the doorway, his eyes uncertain, his posture defensive. Danny ached to see him that way, especially in his own house.

  He felt his father’s body relax. Christopher sighed. “You caused a lot of trouble when you wandered off.” Colton lowered his eyes. “Will you both please tell us what happened?”

  “And make it quick,” Leila said, peeking out a curtain.

  Danny found this ominous, but he would ask later. “There’s one thing I have to do first.”

  A minute later he was hunched over the telephone in the hall as his parents prepared tea, murmuring to each other in the kitchen.

  “’Lo?” answered the person on the other end. The voice nearly made his heart stop with happiness.

  “Cass,” he said. There was silence on the phone except for a faint crackling, then the sound of the other receiver being slammed onto the handle. He looked at his own receiver, frowning.

  “Give it a moment,” Colton said, looking at the door. Sure enough, a minute later it boomed under the weight of Cassie’s fist.

  “Open the bloody door you good-for-nothing bastard!”

  Leila clucked her tongue as she headed for the sitting room. “Really, she needs to calm down.” Said the woman who still had red-rimmed eyes.

  Danny bounded to the door and yanked it open. He had just a second to see Cassie’s freckled face before she flung herself at him. They laughed, staggering into the hallway and nearly falling to the floor. Colton wisely jumped out of the way.

  Then Cassie started punching Danny’s arm. “Don’t—you—ever—leave—again!”

  He uttered small oomphs with every jab, but when one landed too near his chest, he nearly crumpled. Colton was there in an instant to support him. Cassie froze with her fist still in the air, horrified.

  “Dan! I’m so sorry. Are you hurt?”

  “It’s nothing,” he mumbled, but when he looked up, he saw his father lingering worriedly at the end of the hall.

  Cassie’s eyes filled with tears. She hugged Danny again, gently this time. “I missed you.”

  He rested his cheek against her hair and closed his eyes. Colton was there in his mind, within and apart from him. Danny could feel his sorrow, deep as a crack in bone.

  As if she could feel his isolation, too, Cassie attacked Colton next. Danny smiled as Colton held her back.

  “All right, boys,” Christopher finally said, gesturing to the sitting room. “Time to explain.”

  They didn’t tell them everything. Not about their arguments, or the man Danny had killed, or the torture—although they did explain Colton being injected with Danny’s blood. By the time they were finished, their small audience sat stunned, absorbing the story in silence.

  Danny felt wrung out. Exhausted. Although Colton had spoken at least half of the time, it had taken everything inside him just to listen. Images kept flashing through his mind. His limbs were heavy. The past six months had seemed like years.

  “Does it hurt?” Cassie asked, her eyes on his injured shoulder.

  “It’s not too bad,” he said under Colton’s “It reopened recently, so it’s still healing.”

  Leila looked at Danny like she was trying to figure out where the last piece of a puzzle went. His father stood.

  “Colton, may I see your cog holder?”

  He nodded and slipped it from his back. Thanks to the new power of Danny’s blood, he wasn’t quite as weak without it, but his overall appearance dimmed slightly.

  “These adjustments are fascinating,” Christopher murmured, sitting back down with the device in his lap. As he poked at it, Leila got up and wrapped her arms gingerly around Danny’s shoulders, kissing the top of his head.

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I knew you never should have gone.”

  But thinking back on it, he wondered what would have happened if he hadn’t left. Maybe Enfield would still be Stopped. Maybe Aetas would have been freed by now, or Zavier and the others killed by the Builders. In some strange way, he was glad he had gone. He just hated what had come of it.

  “May I see?” Leila asked, hand hovering over his injured shoulder. “I want to make sure it isn’t infected.”

  She’s your mother, Colton thought at him when Danny hesitated. Let her worry over you. He saw a brown-haired woman with dark circles under her blue eyes, pale and hunched over the bed of a young girl. Colton’s mother.

  Danny nodded. Leila inhaled sharply when she unbuttoned the top of his shirt. The wound was red, and it felt hot. Thankfully, Danny had no fever—she put her hand to his forehead to check—but his shoulder still ached.

  “Oh, Lord.” She saw the bullet wound and the bruises across his chest. “What have they done to you?”

  From across the room, Christopher caught sight of the scars and paled. Danny buttoned his shirt back up, feeling like a spectacle. Colton put a comforting hand on his leg.

  Leila combed her fingers through his hair, like she had done when he was little. It eased some of the tension from him, and he found himself leaning into her touch. “They just keep hurting you,” she whispered, a tear rolling down the side of her nose. “I can’t … I feel like I can’t protect you. From any of it.”

  “You don’t have to, Mum.”

  “I do. That’s what a mother is supposed to do.” Leila rubbed her eyes and sniffed. “I’ll—I’ll go get a compress.” She scurried from the room, but Danny could still hear her sobbing in the hallway.

  Christopher gave Danny a helpless look before following her, first giving Colton back his cog holder. Cassie sat on Danny’s other side and held his arm. He relaxed for the first time since he’d stepped foot in the house. Colton on one side, Cassie on the other; he hadn’t realized how badly he wanted that.

 
; “So Zavier’s trying to find out if the Builders are in London?” Cassie asked. Both he and Colton nodded. “I wouldn’t mind a shot at them myself, after what they did to you two.”

  “Cass, what’s it been like here?” Danny asked, picking up her hand. “We didn’t hear anything on the ship, but it feels like London’s changed. Like the entire city is on guard.”

  She bit her lower lip and fidgeted with his hand, pulling on his fingers, flexing them back and forth. It was something she used to do when they were little. Whenever their families were out, their mothers told them to hold hands so that they wouldn’t get lost. Cassie wouldn’t be able to stand still; she’d twitch and fidget and play with his hand. Back then it had annoyed him, but now he was thankful for the distraction.

  “Well, the news that Enfield was Stopped got out,” she said. “People started panicking again, like when Maldon was Stopped. Then there were reports of other clock towers in India being destroyed, as well as Prague, and some idiots over here tried to blow towers up in nearby towns—”

  “What?”

  “—so there’ve been a lot of guards about, cracking down. There were a couple of riots. Religious nutters going on about God enacting justice over our sins. People saying we should go back to following the Gaian gods again, while the religious nutters say that was paganism. A couple of fires broke out near Westminster. Big Ben’s been shot at. Clock mechanics jumped in the street.”

  Danny rubbed his forehead, the ache there deepening into a sharper pain. “Damn it. This is worse than I thought.”

  “There’ve been sightings of foreign airships nearby, too, so sky patrol’s been heavy. Some were even saying it was the Indian rebels starting the riots.”

  “That may very well be the case.” It would be easy enough for the Builders to win over the rebels after Zavier had cut ties with them. If the Builders won, they would run London through the new clock tower. They’d have control over the entire city. Archer would have her base of operations, her capital from where she could begin her campaign for stronger, blood-soaked towers.

  Danny wondered if she considered herself a hero.

  His parents returned to the parlor. Leila had composed herself, though her eyes were redder than before. She handed Danny a compress that smelled sharply of antiseptic. He tucked it between his shirt and shoulder, flinching at the sting.

  “Thanks, Mum.”

  She shared a look with his father, the one that was usually a precursor to a lecture. “Danny, you aren’t going to help these Prometheus people, are you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s not safe out there,” Christopher said. “Just going into the Mechanics Affairs building is a risk. The Lead is this close to a stroke.”

  “Which is why something has to be done,” Danny argued. “Look, I know Zavier seems like a bad person—”

  “He kidnapped you!” Leila nearly shrieked.

  “Yes, but—”

  “And held Colton captive,” Christopher added.

  “Well, that’s true—”

  “And you probably wouldn’t have been hurt at all if it weren’t for him,” Cassie pointed out.

  “His mother’s trapped!”

  They all went silent. Danny met his father’s eye.

  “His mother’s trapped in a town on the continent, one that Stopped a long time ago, and no one can fix it. And his sister … the Builders took her. They’re planning on killing her. I can’t just sit here and let them.”

  “But why are you so willing to help him?” Leila asked. “After everything he’s done?”

  Danny was silent for a moment. Why was he so willing? He felt Colton’s heavy gaze, asking the same question. Danny had saved Zavier in Prague, and now he wanted to take down the Builders alongside him. What had changed?

  He’s me. Before Danny had met Colton, before he’d freed his father from Maldon, he had been exactly like Zavier: distant, aggressive, desperate to the point of failure. Willing to go to any lengths to get what he wanted.

  Colton squeezed his leg. He felt a warm rush of sympathy through their bond, along with exasperated fondness.

  “I have to do this,” Danny told them. “I need to help in any way I can.”

  “And me,” Colton whispered.

  Cassie shook her head. “Count me in, I suppose. Whatever you need, Dan. I’m here.”

  His parents looked less certain, but Christopher gave a slight nod. “I’ll help, too. But … there’s something you ought to know first.”

  Leila made an anxious sound. “Something terrible happened while you were gone. We didn’t want to tell you, but we have no choice.”

  “What is it?”

  “You … well … they’re saying you’re a—a traitor to the Crown.” Leila gulped. “They searched the house, your room. I tidied it up, but you should have seen the mess—” Christopher cleared his throat pointedly. “They said you Stopped Enfield on purpose, and that you were part of some ridiculous scheme to kill the viceroy in India!”

  Danny slowly collapsed onto Colton’s shoulder.

  “Wonderful,” he muttered.

  “The Lead’s been working to have your name cleared, but it’s a bit difficult, what with you missing,” his father said. “We can get this all sorted out first thing tomorrow, though. Or”—he glanced at the radio on Colton’s belt— “whenever this whole affair is over.”

  It was getting late, so Cassie made to leave, stopping at the door to kiss Danny’s and Colton’s cheeks. “Ring me in the morning,” she said. “I’m scheduled to be at the shop, but I can give Morris my shift, he’s been slacking.”

  “I’ll call when we know more,” he assured her.

  He closed the door and turned to Colton. There was still a fractured sadness in him, but the spirit managed a smile. Their hands met, singing the same song, holding the same blood.

  I don’t belong here, Colton thought.

  You belong wherever I am. Danny leaned forward and kissed him, slow and soft. The pain lessened, but the sadness lingered.

  A small cough made them draw apart. Leila stood with blankets piled in her arms.

  “Danny, why don’t I set you up a bed in the sitting room? It’s warmer down here, anyway. Colton can take your bed.”

  “Mum, he doesn’t sleep.” Danny sounded angrier than he would have liked.

  “It’s all right,” Colton said. “I can stay down here. Danny can have the bed.”

  Leila tried to smile, but her usually pursed mouth trembled. She turned and made her way into the sitting room. Christopher, who had been watching from the stairs, cast them a baleful look.

  “It’s been difficult for her, Danny,” he said. “Be kind to her.”

  Danny thought about his mother’s poor health while his father was trapped in Maldon, the terrible hope, the cruel doubt. She’d gone through all that again—because of him.

  When she came back into the hall, he wrapped his arms around her. Surprised, she returned the embrace after a slight hesitation.

  “Thanks, Mum. I missed you.”

  She exhaled a tearful breath. “Oh, Danny. I missed you, too.” She clutched the back of his neck, as if refusing to let him go. “I love you. Just the way you are.”

  The words sounded simple, but they were anything but. Danny felt his throat closing, his eyes prickling, and tightened his arms around her before stepping back.

  “No more heartache from now on, all right?” she said, wiping her eyes again.

  “I’ll try.”

  In his room, Danny stared at the walls. This room had known him since he was a child, his crib exchanged for a bed, his toys replaced with gutted timepieces and screwdrivers. Suddenly, he had the strangest feeling that these walls no longer knew him. That he was no longer tied to that child.

  He found a nightshirt in his dresser. The sounds of his parents getting ready for bed were muffled through the wall, peppered with their low murmurings. He slid under the cold sheets and rested his head on a pillow th
at smelled like their familiar lavender soap.

  The house fell silent. He couldn’t sleep. His mind was blank, but his heart kept racing.

  He stood and crossed to the door. When he opened it, Colton was already on the landing. Their eyes met, and they relaxed at the same time.

  Danny held out his hand and drew Colton inside, closing the door behind them.

  There were no layers between them other than the sheet of moonlight across the floor, which turned their skin to pearl and silver. Fingers skimmed sides and dragged across chests, but only one set of lungs breathed.

  “Shh,” Colton whispered as he traced the incline of Danny’s hips. “You have to be quiet.”

  “I am quiet,” Danny argued before Colton caught his mouth.

  A tiny, bright seed pulsed in the center of Danny’s mind. He knew this presence now, recognized it as something apart and within. His chest was lighter, his stomach heavier.

  “I can feel it, too,” Colton whispered. His eyes were bright and feverish, golden like the flames of twin candles. “What you feel.”

  Danny sensed his wonder. His desire. They read it in each other’s bodies, minds. For a moment he saw through Colton’s eyes—saw his own face look up at him, unrecognizable. It was something in the eyes, he realized. Something in the way he looked at Colton.

  He pushed a hand into Colton’s hair, watching the golden strands shift and part between his fingers. It was so soft, and bright, like just-spun gold. All of him was made of gold, from the tips of his eyelashes to the glint of amber in his eyes, the faint glow of his skin. Danny’s thumb brushed over Colton’s jaw, over his cheek. Colton’s eyes fluttered and closed as he leaned into the contact.

  Danny brought his other hand up to frame his face. He reached up and kissed him again, feeling the trembling strain in Colton’s chest and stomach, the arch of his neck, the urge for his body to follow Colton’s, striving to get closer. Colton lowered himself and deepened the kiss, nudging Danny’s lips apart with his own. A shallow, curious brush of his tongue. Danny shivered. A deeper exploration, stroking Danny’s tongue with his, eking out a small sound from Danny’s throat.