Clockwork Heart (12 page)

“What's wrong?” Alister asked. His grip tightened. “You looked very stern all of the sudden.”

“Nothing,” she said, becoming aware of the scent he was wearing. It reminded her of the spice markets of the foreigners' quarter, exotic but appealing. “Just … a thought.”

“Are you worried about my brother?”

“Huh?”

“He's staring at you.” Alister swung her around. Taya caught a glimpse of a dark figure in the middle of all the extravagantly dressed exalteds, and then they turned again and he was gone.

“You said he never came to parties!”

Alister chuckled. “I believe you've made a conquest, Taya Swan.”

“I doubt that! Although I would like to talk to him.”

“After this dance,” he promised, pulling her close again. “Right now you're mine.”

Still, she couldn't help glancing over his shoulder, seeking out Cristof's slim, severe figure every time they turned. Why was he here? To celebrate Viera's survival?

She hoped so, for the family's sake.

After the dance Alister waved off the other young exalteds who tried to break in.

“Back, back. The icarus will dance with you as soon as she's had some refreshment,” he scolded them. “Give the guest of honor a chance to rest.”

He steered her toward Cristof, who was holding a glass of wine and regarding them gravely.
He really does resemble a crow in a flock of fancy songbirds
, Taya thought, remembering Gwen's characterization. His somber clothes and sharp-featured face made the comparison even more apt. Anywhere else in Ondinium, she might have thought that he looked striking. Up here he just looked out of place.

Maybe as out of place as me
, she admitted to herself as they approached.

“Why, Cris, what a delight to see you at a party at last,” Alister said with mock surprise. “I noticed that you were staring at Taya while we were dancing. Could it be that my big brother's mind is finally turning to something other than clockwork?”

Cristof scowled, looking away. “I was studying the architecture of her dress.”

“Architecture? Is that what they call them down on Tertius?” Alister teased.

Color rose in Cristof's cheeks.

“I was trying to figure out how the dress was fastened,” he elaborated with stilted dignity. “Dressmaking is as much a feat of engineering as bridge-building. More so. A bridge doesn't need to be comfortable.”

“My dress isn't exactly fastened,” Taya admitted. “It was sewn on.”

Cristof choked in mid-swallow and set his glass down. Alister roared with laughter, making heads turn.

“Oh, Lady save us! That leads to all sorts of interesting lines of speculation, doesn't it?” He grinned at his older brother. “Are you all right, Cris?”

“I'm fine,” Cristof said in a strangled voice. “Excuse me.”

Alister watched him go, then turned and swooped Taya up and kissed her on the cheek.

“What was that for?” she gasped, holding on to his arms as he swung her around and set her back down again. His eyes danced.

“That was for flustering my brother. I don't get to see his gears slip nearly often enough.”

Taya shook her head with mild disapproval, but she didn't try to break away from his grip as he held her. Instead, she leaned on his arm and searched the crowd for his brother.

She spotted him at once, because he was so tall and dark. He was still coughing into his handkerchief, and light gleamed off his wire-rimmed spectacles. She remembered how carefully he'd held Alister's toy bird and how he'd given her half of his poor lunch. Suddenly she felt sorry for him.

“Don't make fun of him, Alister. It's not nice.”

“Nonsense. I'm only teasing. Cris takes everything so seriously. Sometimes I think his heart is nothing but springs and gears. I'd be the first to approve if he ever got his mind off his machines and started thinking about something as wholesome as a pretty woman.”

Taya sighed. As she was about to turn away, a footman approached and murmured something to the clockwright. Cristof's shoulders tightened, and he strode toward the ballroom door.

“I don't know,” she said, troubled. “I have a feeling he thinks about a lot that doesn't have to do with machines.”

“You like to believe the best of everyone, don't you? Now, tell me, was
that
what you wanted to say to him? That your dress was sewn on? I presume it will have to be dismantled before it's removed.” Alister stroked the feathers over her shoulder and down her back. “What lucky soul will have that privilege tonight, Taya Swan? I hope your dressmaker was female.”

She moved away before his finger could descend too far. “He's not, but he thinks I'm too boyish to be attractive.”

“Only a madman would call you boyish.”

Taya smiled, glad to hear it, even if it was blatant flattery. “Will you excuse me? I need to … check my hair.”

“Of course. Over there.” He pointed and she slipped away.

The foyer was empty of guests, although the candles and endless rows of reflecting mirrors made the room seem crowded as soon as she walked into it. The front door was open. Taya glanced at the door to the ladies' parlor, then turned and stepped outside. She just needed a little solitude to think about what she wanted before Alister's flirting became any more suggestive.

The stone walls and iron gate blocked any light from the street, but the mansion's broad front porch was lined with small lanterns that provided a festive air. Taya shivered in the cold air and took a deep breath, leaning against the low porch rail. Tension uncoiled from her back and shoulders, and she realized how uneasy she'd been inside, despite Alister's charming company.

Or maybe because of it.

She looked up, hoping to see an icarus silhouetted against the stars or moon, but the night sky was empty.

This isn't me
, she thought, looking up at the stars with a touch of regret.
I'm not meant to wear elegant dresses and flirt with handsome exalteds. The Lady forged me to wear leather and ondium and ride the wind.

There was nothing to stop her from enjoying herself with Alister Forlore. Nothing but her own vague sense of unease.
Maybe it's because he outranks me
, she thought, testing the idea. Despite what Cristof had said, icarii didn't really stand outside of the caste hierarchy. Not as long as exalteds ran the city and owned their wings.

Perhaps she
should
borrow a pair of wings and take Alister into the air. Caste differences wouldn't matter once she was in her own element.

Or maybe I'm just getting too old for casual affairs
. She'd never been as carefree as Cassi and so many of the rest of her peers. That's why she hadn't been able to sleep with Pyke. He'd been kind enough, but it hadn't seemed worth the effort of starting something that was doomed from the start.

“…got them from Pins,” someone murmured. Taya looked toward the voice and saw three men standing in the garden shadows next to a small marble bench. Lamplight reflected from a small metal packet that changed hands. The man who took it shoved it into his jacket, and Taya bit her lip as she saw the silver circles around his eyes.

“You shouldn't have come. You could comp—” Cristof halted as one of the men looked up at Taya and made a warning noise.

“Excuse me,” she apologized, stepping back from the rail. “I — I was just getting some fresh air. I didn't know anyone was out here.”

“You see?” Cristof asked his companions, in a low, annoyed voice. He shook his head, waving the other two men aside. Taya caught a glimpse of their faces as they backed off. No masks. They weren't exalteds, then, but somebody lower-caste. It was too dark to discern their castemarks.

Cristof looked up at her. “Wait a moment, Icarus.”

“I'm sorry. It's cold,” Taya said, feeling nervous. “I'd better get back inside.” She caught a glimpse of his frown and turned, hurrying back to the safety of the house.

What was that?
she thought in a panic, torn between fleeing to the sanctuary of the ladies' parlor and seeking the safety of Alister's company.
What did I just see?
The packet — it had looked like a stack of punch cards, the kind used to program analytical engines.

Like the engines that ran the wireferries. Or that switched refinery furnaces on and off at specific hours.

Chapter Seven

Taya smiled graciously, if somewhat absently, at the young exalted who escorted her off the ballroom floor. Her eyes searched the crowds, hunting for Cristof's angular face. She'd flung herself back into the dancing as soon as she'd re-entered the ballroom, using her partners to protect herself. During the first two dances she'd spotted Cristof watching her from the sidelines. Then he'd vanished, and now she felt safe enough to plead exhaustion.

Alister appeared at her side as she sank into a chair, her feathers rustling. The decatur held a glass of wine in one bejeweled hand.

“Allow me,” he said to her partner, handing her the glass. The younger man bowed to him, smiled at Taya, and took his leave.

“You didn't need to shoo him off.”

“If he surrenders you that easily, he doesn't deserve your company,” Alister said, dismissing her concern. “I've been waiting for a chance to reclaim you.”

“I'm glad you're here.” She looked up. “Would you mind if I asked you a strange question?”

“Of course not.” He looked intrigued. “What is it?”

“Have you ever heard of someone called Pins?”

Alister's pleasant expression vanished, and his gaze became intent.

“Yes. Why?”

“Just a conversation I overheard … in passing.” She craned her neck, studying him. He didn't look happy. “Who is he?”

“She. She's a fence and a suspected smuggler. The Council keeps its eyes on her, but she's a very clever woman, and so far she's avoided arrest.” Alister touched one of the feathers in her hair. “You don't know her, do you? Have you carried any messages for her?”

“No, it's nothing like that.” Taya gazed into her wine. He hadn't given her the reassuring answer she'd been hoping for. “You don't suppose she'd be involved in terrorism, do you? Like … the wireferry accident? Or the refinery explosion?”

He was silent. She glanced up. His face had grown even more still.

“Do you have any reason to suspect her of terrorism, Taya?”

“No! No, I don't. I was just wondering. I saw something strange, and I heard her name, and … well, a lictor asked me to keep my eyes open for anything suspicious, and Viera is worried about her husband, so of course now I'm reading sinister undertones into everything I hear.” She forced a laugh.

“Maybe.” He leaned over, putting a hand on her shoulder. His fingers combed through the feathers, caressing her bare skin and sending tingles down her back. “But if you know anything that could help the Council keep Ondinium safe, you can tell me. I'm in better position to order an investigation than a lictor or Viera.”

“I don't know anything yet.” She looked away, sipping her wine to avoid his eyes.

Viera joined them, gold gleaming in her hair and on her fingers. Alister's hand slid off Taya's shoulder.

“Taya! How are you? You look tired.”

“I am, a little,” Taya admitted. “I don't usually stay up this late.”

Alister slipped his ornate watch from his sleeve and glanced at it. “Why, it's only after midnight.”

“After midnight!” Taya fought the urge to yawn. “No wonder I'm tired! I'm usually in bed by ten.”

“I refuse to believe you're serious. The evening has only begun.”

“Not when you have the morning flight shift. In fact, Exalted Octavus, if you'll forgive me, I should be heading home now.”

“Of course,” Viera said. “I shall instruct the servants to bring around a carriage for you.”

“I would be happy to take her in mine,” Alister offered. “I should be heading home, myself. I'm supposed to run tests on an engine prototype tomorrow, and they want me down at the University by nine.” He pretended to shudder, smiling at Taya. “A Ladyforsaken hour, indeed.”

Ride home with Alister? Taya felt a surge of temptation. “I wouldn't want to inconvenience you,” she said shakily. “The eyries would be out of your way…”

“I know Cliff Road. It's not that far out of my way,” Alister said, the smile still hovering around his lips. “And this will be my last chance to see my swan queen. After tonight, you will be transformed back into a metal-winged hawk.”

“Al, hush,” Viera scolded him. “Taya must consider propriety. What sort of impression would it make if she returned home in your carriage?”

“Oh.” Alister paused, and Taya thought he seemed taken aback. “But, Viera, surely an icarus…”

“Should be treated with as much respect as any other guest I might invite to dinner,” Viera said, her voice stern.

“Of course. I didn't mean any offense,” he said, turning to Taya. “I simply hoped to enjoy your company a little longer.”

Taya looked from him to Viera. The chance to spend more time with Alister, alone in a carriage, both tempted and frightened her. She was afraid it would be all too easy to forget her good intentions if she were alone with him in the dark.

“I'll do whatever you think is best,” she said to her hostess. “I don't know anything about propriety. I'm used to flying myself home.”

Both of the exalteds laughed. Viera took her hand, pulling her up from the chair.

“It would be best if you went home alone,” she said, kindly. “My cousin is a gentleman, but he isn't as careful of reputations as he should be.”

“I'm very careful of reputations,” Alister protested. “I'm a decatur. I have to be!”

“You're careful with your own reputation, perhaps.” Viera raised an eyebrow. “Now say your goodbyes while I send for a carriage.” She squeezed Taya's hand and strode off.

Alister watched her leave.

“Dear Vee. She's so protective. I suspect I owe my position on the Council to her,” he murmured. “I'm certain she made Caster vote for me.”

“Wouldn't he have voted for you anyway?”

“Perhaps.” He turned and hooked his arm through hers. “May I escort you to the door this time, my swan?”

“I'd like that,” she said, smiling up at him. She was glad Viera had told her to take another carriage. She could flirt now without considering where it would lead later.

“One thing, Taya Swan,” Alister said, as they reached the foyer. She paused. He looked serious. “Please leave the investigating to the lictors. I would be devastated if you were hurt.”

She gazed up at his face, touched by his concern. But what if he were the one hurt? If Cristof was involved in something illegal, Alister's position on the Council could be in danger.

“Taya Icarus.” Caster Octavus stepped into the foyer. “Viera has informed me that you are taking your leave of us.”

Taya shifted mental gears with an effort, turning and bowing, her palm on her forehead.

“I apologize for leaving so soon, Exalted, but we icarii need to get off to an early start in the morning.”

“I understand. Thank you very much for joining us, and thank you again for your brave rescue.” He clasped her hand. “The Octavus family owes you a debt, and it will not be forgotten.”

“I consider the debt repaid,” she protested. “Tonight has been… well, I never imagined being invited to something like this.”

“Don't be ridiculous. Tonight simply makes public our gratitude.”

Taya studied him, her hand still in his. The white-haired decatur looked serious. This wasn't casual good manners, she realized. Exalted Octavus was making her a promise.

She slipped her hand from his and pressed her palm against her forehead again, bowing more deeply this time.

“Thank you, Exalted.”

To her surprise, when she straightened, he returned the bow.

“Fly safely, Icarus.”

“Yes, but not tonight,” Viera added, as she entered the foyer. “Our carriage is waiting outside.” A servant followed, holding Taya's borrowed velvet cloak and a heavy fur. “A cloak of feathers might be more appropriate, but it wouldn't be nearly as practical. Here, I'm giving this to you. I hope it will keep you warm this winter and for many winters to come.” She handed Taya the fur cloak.

Taya's fingers sank into the thick beaver pelts, each one worth a month of her salary. She opened her mouth to protest, then closed it again when she saw Viera's expression.

“Allow me.” Alister took it and wrapped it around her shoulders. The inside was lined with soft doeskin, warm against her flesh. He regarded her with mock criticism. “I approve of the brown against her hair, cousin, but fur doesn't flatter her dress. Now she looks more like a Demican chieftain than a swan queen.”

Taya ignored him, running her hands over the fur. It probably
had
come from Demicus, she thought, overwhelmed.

“It's gorgeous. I don't know where I'll be able to wear it.”

“You should wear it to the market and anywhere else you may need to go this winter,” Viera said, practically. She reached forward and fastened the neck. Taya looked down and saw that the gold clasp had the Octavus sigil worked into it. “Good night, Taya Icarus. Fly safely.”

“Good night, Exalteds,” Taya said again, draping her velvet cloak over her arms. The fur was heavy on her shoulders, but it was a solid, comforting weight.

They walked her out to the carriage and waved as she was driven away. Taya watched until the lights of Estate Octavus vanished around a corner, then let the window curtain fall and pulled her new cloak around her.

Pins
, she mused, staring into the darkness.
Tomorrow I'm going to find Pins and see if I can track down the Torn Cards. For the Octavuses … and for Alister.

“Pins?” Pyke set down
The Watchman
and narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

“Someone at the party bought something from her, and I want to find out what,” Taya explained, warming her fingers on her second cup of tea. Cassi had made her stay awake to talk about the party after she'd gotten home, so she was working on only five hours of sleep and relying on the bitter beverage to keep her eyes open. “Come on. You know her, don't you? I can tell.”

“Yeah. She attends the same Inquiry and Liberation meetings I go to.” Pyke still sounded suspicious.

“Spirits, Pyke. I can't believe the Council hasn't thrown you out of the eyrie yet,” Cassi exclaimed, spreading jam over her breakfast roll. “Isn't I&L some kind of reactionary group?”

“You don't know anything about politics, do you?” Pyke looked disgusted. “It's a free-trade group. Did you know Ondinium levies a ten-percent import tax on spices from Si'sier, but when we send—”

“Pyke. Please. Don't.” Cassi waved a hand at him. “I don't care. You know, you'd be a lot more fun if you took up a real hobby, like darts.”

“You like men who play darts?” Pyke asked, dubiously.

“It was just an example. Although I'm pretty good at darts.”

“Hello? Pins?” Taya waved a hand between them. “Please, Pyke, just give me an address. I'm not going to cause her any trouble.”

“How can I be sure? You're hobnobbing with exalteds and decaturs now. Maybe they're turning you into their spy.”

Taya rubbed her forehead.

“More like the opposite. They said she was dangerous and I should stay away. Look, I just want to ask a couple of questions, that's all. Then I'm gone. I won't tell anyone I saw her, and I won't tell her how I got her address.”

“Dangerous?” Pyke rubbed his chin. “I didn't know she was dangerous.”

“Pyke!”

“Taya, just go to Dispatch and look her up,” Cassi advised. “It'll be faster than trying to get an answer out of tall, dark, and paranoid here.”

“I'm not paranoid, I'm just cautious.” Pyke frowned. “It's not a secret, I guess. She owns a copperwares shop on Operand and Cascade. There's a big beaten-copper basin in the front window. You can't miss it.”

“Thanks.” Taya finished her tea and stood. “Well, off to work. You two coming?”

At the dock, she and Cassi pulled on their flight leathers and strapped themselves into their rigs. When they were ready, they joined the line at the dispatch office to punch in. Taya dropped off a thank-you note to be delivered to Estate Octavus.

“Nice of you two to join us today,” the dispatcher said dryly as they hung their time cards back on the rack. “All finished playing dress-up?”

“Better be polite,” Cassi warned him. “Taya has friends in high places.”

“Yeah, I get a nosebleed just looking at her.” The dispatcher handed them their morning's delivery satchels. “Fly safely, ladies. It's cold and clear, but the
diispira
will be kicking up again this morning, so mind your tailsets.”

“We will.” Taya picked up the bag and began sorting through it as they left the warm office and joined the line at the icarus flight docks. The docks were long wood and iron strips that extended far out beyond the cliffs and provided clean drops down into the wind.

Morning breezes tugged at their wings, and sunlight turned the jagged mountain peaks around them a warm gold. To the left, a group of seven- and eight-year-old children were doing warm-up exercises, their training wings giving their jumping jacks a little extra lift. Taya thought of Ariq and grinned.

“I've got deliveries all over Secundus,” Cassi said, buttoning her bag closed again and hooking it to her belt. “How about you?”

“Some back-and-forth on Tertius. Shouldn't take too long.”

“Lunch?”

“Maybe. But if I'm not here by half-past, I got caught up in other business.”

“Business like a handsome decatur?” Cassi teased. Taya laughed.

“I'm not planning on it, but who knows?”

Their names were called. Cassi waved. “Fly safely!”

“You, too!”

Flying in autumn and winter was a chilly endeavor, although the capital's blanket of smoke and soot always thinned out in the cooler weather. The air over Tertius was never entirely clear, but today Taya could see the rest of the city as she wove between towers and factory smokestacks, delivering messages. Once she flew over the street where Cristof's shop was located. She circled, but its door was closed. She flew on.