Taya could barely see her hands in front of her as she hurried down the path to the flight dock. The dawn diispira hadn't kicked up yet, and it was cold enough for her breath to form visible clouds as she ran.
Cristof was a dark, narrow figure huddled by the gate.
"It's locked," he said, as she approached.
"Of course it is." She pulled out her key and let them in. "Ondium's expensive. Did you find a place to sleep last night?"
"More or less."
"What does that mean?"
"The floor was cleaner than the mattress. I didn't sleep well."
"Stiff muscles?"
"Not too bad."
"Good." She led them across the open practice field to the flight prep building. "I got a message from Kyle last night."
"What did he say?"
"The Clockwork Heart program affected the University engine. I guess that once it runs, it keeps other security programs from locking off access to the engine, or its storage drums, or something like that. He seemed to think it was pretty important. He said he's sending a formal report to the college president and the lictors this morning."
"Oh, Lady." Cristof leaned against the building wall, staring into space. "What was Alister doing?"
"That's what we're going to find out." She unlocked the door to the flight prep building and struck a lucifer match as soon as they were inside. Candles and lamps were stored by the door. She handed him a lamp and took one herself. In the light, she saw that he'd wiped off last night's handiwork, leaving his castemark visible once more. "You decided to be an exalted again?"
"It might give us an advantage if we're caught."
"Good idea. We'll need all the advantages we can get." She led him to the men's changing room.
That morning, she'd done what she could to set up her own advantages. She'd left a note in Cassi's purse containing Kyle's letter and describing where she was going and why. She didn't know what Cassi would do when she found it, but no icarus flew without filing a flight plan.
Besides, if they got caught by the lictors, she wanted her friends to know she wasn't a criminal.
"Don't worry." Cristof tapped his bulging coat pocket. "You can always say that I forced you at gunpoint."
"It wouldn't work. They'll just ask why I didn't drop you once we were aloft." She opened up the flight suit closet. "How tall are you?"
"Six three."
"Hmm." She looked dubiously at the selection. "Well, do your best to find a suit and boots that fit. The suit needs to be snug, but not so tight that it binds. Don't wear anything but your drawers beneath it. Fold your clothing and bring it out with you, and we'll store it in my locker. Then we'll find you a harness."
He nodded, and she left him, going to the women's locker room to change into her own suit and harness. Fifteen minutes later she was showing him how to step into a complicated arrangement of straps and buckles.
Cristof had done the best he could, but his flight suit was several inches too short in the arms and legs and a little too wide around the chest and shoulders. Transferring the contents of his coat pockets into the pouches built into the suit gave him a bulky look.
Crow with his feathers plumped,
she thought, irreverently.
"The needlegun I can understand, and even your identification papers, but do you really need this?" She held up the slim leather tool kit.
"You never know when you might need a screwdriver." He tucked the leather case away and she shook her head. Cassi and her lip paints, Cristof and his tools.
"You really are a gearhead, aren't you?"
"We gearheads consider that term a compliment, icarus."
Amused, Taya buttoned up his collar until it rested under his chin. He tugged at it, frowning.
"Leave it alone," she instructed. "It may feel tight now, but you don't want a breeze down your suit while you're flying."
"It's no more uncomfortable than robes and a mask," he said, dropping his hand and cinching his belt tighter. "But the suit's heavier than I expected. Especially the boots. You don't look big enough to carry around so much weight every day."
"I'm stronger than I look," Taya said, with a trace of pride. "And the ondium makes make it feel lighter. The boots are heavy because of the metal toes and thick soles. Even so, we have to replace them pretty often. Which reminds me…. "She grabbed a pair of jointed metal-and-leather knee pads. Kneeling in front of him, she attached them to the harness straps that circled his legs, bracing a hand against his shin as she pulled the buckles tight. "We're not going to try an upright landing today. You're going to land on your knees and skid to a halt."
He shifted uneasily while she worked and finally cleared his throat.
"I've seen little icarii doing that. I thought they were playing."
"It's the first landing we learn. It isn't elegant, but sometimes it's the best you can do, especially when the winds are high or the approach is awkward." She slapped his calves and straightened. "This job is tough on the joints."
"I feel like I'm wearing armor." He took a few steps. "Excuse me." He turned and readjusted the straps around his thighs.
"Make sure they don't chafe," she said, smirking at his back. "Remember, the straps will pull up once the armature is strapped on."
"Wonderful," he muttered, his back still turned.
"I'll go get you some wings and weights while you fix that," she said, chuckling. "How much do you weigh?"
"About one hundred and seventy."
"Heavy."
He glanced over his shoulder.
"People have called me scrawny all my life."
"Heavy for an icarus," she amended. "But you're tall for an icarus, too. I'll be back in about ten minutes."
She found a pair of visitor wings and grabbed a wire cage of ondium counterweights. By the time she returned, Cristof was pacing the room, testing the straps. She led him outside, locking the door behind them.
"Paolo's on watch, but he usually dozes off at dawn," she said. "Still, let's move quickly." The sky was lighter now, although the sun hadn't risen above the mountains. The air was crisp and cold. She took Cristof to the docks, which jutted out over the city. The peaks of the surrounding mountains were starting to glow with the imminent dawn. The city of Ondinium stretched out below them, still in shadow, crammed with buildings, tenements, and factories.
Cristof glanced down and shuddered.
"Oh, Lady," he breathed, fixing his eyes on his hands as he pulled on his leather gloves.
"Don't worry. You'll be fine." Taya clipped the floating wire cage to a ring in the ground and helped him buckle the icarus armature onto his harness. "Snap the keel around your chest and run the straps through the rings."
"Exactly how is this going to work?" he asked, his voice strained.
"I'm going to put so much ondium on you that even if you lose control and stall, you'll just drift to the ground," she said, adjusting the padding around his shoulders and over his chest. His heart was pounding so hard she could feel it through her gloves. "Breathe, exalted."
He nodded and drew in a deep breath. She gave him a reassuring smile and tousled his hair. Then she paused and plucked at several strands of it.
"Who cuts this, anyway?"
"I do." He brushed her hand away.
"I guess that explains it." She stepped away and opened the hatch at the bottom of the ondium cage. "You do a lousy job."
"Didn't I just see you wearing red flannel pajamas and slippers with holes? I don't think you have any right to lecture me about what looks fashionable," he retorted. His voice seemed steadier.
Taya pulled out a five-pound counterweight, pleased with herself. Her diversion had worked.
"I like those slippers. They're broken in." She slid the buoyant ondium bar into a pocket on his belt and buttoned it. "Anyway, nobody sees them except me."
"Nobody?"
She pulled out another five-pound counterweight.
"Well, my best friends."
"So seeing them should be construed as a privilege, not a punishment?"
"Watch it, clockwright." She slid another counterweight into his belt. "How do you feel?"
"Light." He stepped away from her a moment. "Strange."
"We don't usually counterweight ourselves this much. It makes wind hard to handle. But I'm going to be doing most of the flying, so I want you to be as maneuverable as possible." She slipped out two more five-pound counterweights and added them to the others. "Are you floating away yet?"
"Almost." He eyed the edge of the cliff and took a step back toward her again. "What would happen if I got too light?"
"Well, in theory, you'd float up until you hit the moon. But in practice, you'd slide one of the counterweights out of your belt and release it into the air." She eyed him. "And then you'd reimburse me, because each of these weights is worth about a year of my salary."
"As long as you keep me alive, I'll handle the expenses," he promised.
"Deal. It's time to practice." She stood in front of him, her own wings locked high, and showed him how to slide his arms into the straps and bars. He had no trouble mastering the release and engage mechanisms, locking his wings into high, glide, and close positions.
"The mistake most beginners make is to flap too much," she said as he spread his wings and practiced an up and downstroke, feathers closing and opening. The downstroke lifted him and she reached up to grab the metal keel over his chest, pulling him back down to earth. "But birds glide as often as they can because it's less effort than flapping. What I'll want you to do most of the time is lock your wings into glide position and let me guide us."
"How are you going to do that?" he asked. His heart was pounding again, thumping against her fingers and the harness.
"We're going to be connected by a safety line. Are you remembering to breathe?"
He took another deep breath, his grey eyes fixed on her face. They were wide behind his glasses.
"There are only two dangers up there," she lectured. "The biggest one is that you panic and tangle your wings with mine. If that happens, we're going to stall and fall. We don't want to do that."
"I never panic." His coppery skin was going pale again.
"Good. The second danger is that we get caught off-balance in a wind and I have to unhook from you until I can regain control. You're so light right now that you don't have to worry about falling. Even if you folded your wings into a dive position, you'd just float down. So let the wind blow you and do your best to keep your wings spread wide. I'll come get you. All you have to do is stay calm and make yourself visible. I'll find you even if you end up floating over another mountain. Okay? Just don't panic."
He swallowed and nodded.
"Hey!"
Taya turned and saw the dispatch office door open. Paulo had seen them.
She turned back to Cristof, shoving a flight cap into his hands.
"Lesson over. Time to go."
"Wait! I don't have any idea what I'm doing yet!" Cristof protested, pulling on his cap.
"No time. Buckle the chin strap. That's Paulo." She pushed him by the harness to the edge of the dock as he fumbled his goggles into place over his glasses. "Stand still."
"Oh, Lady," he groaned, looking down. His fingers yanked on the cap strap.
"Eyes straight ahead. Take three deep breaths." Taya stood behind him, pulling out her safety line. It was twenty feet of tightly wound silk cable with a braided wire core, safety hooks on each end — the same kind of line Pyke had dropped to her in the wireferry accident. She hooked their harnesses together and pulled her goggles down.
"Hey, icarus, you haven't cleared this flight!"
She glanced over her shoulder. Paulo had been grounded years ago with a bad leg, and now he hobbled toward them on a cane. Plenty of time. She yanked the line, snuggling up against Cristof's back. Lady, he was tall. Her face was even with his shoulder blades.
"Is this—"
"Lock your wings into close position," she ordered, spreading her wings wide. His wings folded back, their metal primaries brushing against her legs. "Walk with me to the edge."
"Exactly how do we take off?" he asked, agitated.
"We jump."
"Can't you be in front?"
"Walk!" She took a step forward, her knee nudging the back of his leg. He took one step, a second.
"We're at the edge!"
"Wait."
They teetered on the edge. Paulo shouted behind them.
Taya leaned against Cristof's back.
"Crouch and jump forward as far as you can. Keep your wings folded. We'll fall for a few seconds, and then I'll stop us. Don't flap your wings. Keep them tight. If you panic and spread them, we'll get tangled up and it'll be a really short flight."
"I understand."
"Jump on the count of three. One. Two. Three!"
Cristof leaped.
Taya leaned against his back, her wings downstroking as hard as possible. They sagged, then thrust upward and forward. Unable to see clearly, Taya scooted herself higher on his back, wrapping her legs around Cristof's waist and tucking her feet next to his hips to seal them together.
His extra mass dragged against her as she beat her wings, but he was well counterweighted, and she pulled them up over the city and into the pale sky. As soon as they were clear of the launch dock and Secundus wireferry towers, she straightened one leg to awkwardly kick down the tailset on his armature.
"Legs up and in," she shouted, straddling his back again.
For a moment they bobbled as Cristof tried to find the rung under the tailset, and then she felt their balance steady as he got his ankles hooked over it. The ondium tailfeathers counteracted the drag of his legs. Until she could separate from him, his tail was going to be her tail.
For a moment she was silent, concentrating on finding the air currents. Cristof's short hair blew into her face and she nudged up higher on his back, putting her mouth close to his ear.
"Good job!"
"Are we safe yet?"
"We're fine. It's a beautiful morning for flying."
"Okay."
He sounded frightened.
"You're not looking down, are you?"
"I'm not looking anywhere."
"Are your eyes open?"
"No."
"What? Scrap, open your eyes! You can't fly blind!"
A moment later he groaned. She felt his muscles tighten beneath her thighs.
"What?" she asked.
"The ground."
"Cristof! Keep your eyes up and open and don't panic! You have to see where you're going!"
"No, I don't." His voice was faint. "I trust you."
"Open your eyes!" she commanded, digging her boot heels into his ribs for emphasis.
"Oh, Lady…. "His voice dropped into the steady murmur of a prayer and she felt him tensing beneath her again.
"Breathe. Long, deep, slow breaths. You're safe. Keep your eyes forward so you can see where we're going."
She was beginning to get tired, maneuvering for them both, but she kept them rising until she felt his sides and back begin to relax. She felt an updraft and leaned them into it. For a second she felt him resist her, and then he caught himself, letting her take the lead. She touched her head to his for a moment to speak.
"Are you okay now?"
"No."
Her eyebrows rose. At least he'd stopped hiding his feelings.
"Unlock your wings, stretch them out, and lock them into glide."
He straightened his arms and she shifted her weight, pressing her collarbone against his shoulders so that their wings matched up. The metal bars of their armatures clicked as their forearms tapped each other. Ondium feathers rattled in the wind.
They began to soar, arm to arm, cheek to cheek. Taya drew in a deep breath, her heart leaping at the sight of the city wheeling below them, the brightening morning sky, and the craggy mountain cliffs glowing gold in the dawn.
"Beautiful!" she cried out, delighted. "Isn't it beautiful?"
He didn't answer. After a moment, Taya sighed. Some people had no appreciation for nature. Maybe he'd enjoy it better after a few more lessons.
She squeezed her legs to get his attention.
"Do you feel me against you?" she asked.
"I — er, yes."
"I'm going to give you a quick flying lesson. Relax and let me guide you through it."
She felt, rather than heard, him clear his throat.
"Do I still have to keep my eyes open?"
"Yes." She maneuvered awkwardly a moment, then managed to kick down her own tailfeathers. She tucked her legs into the tailset and stretched out flat against him. He was tall enough that the match wasn't perfect, but it would do. She rested on top of him, leg to leg, arm to arm, stomach to back, cheek to cheek.
"Okay, we're going into a right turn. The right wing's going down, and the left wing's going up. Left wing downstrokes harder. Feel me move, and move with me."
His breath caught as she pushed his right arm down with hers, letting herself tilt in the wind. They were moving more slowly than she liked, but the city's thermal updraft and the extra ondium counterweights in his suit kept them from stalling.
"Good! I want you to keep your legs straight for now. If you were alone, you'd bend your left knee when you turned. Wing, tail, and tilt. That's how we steer. But just concentrate on using your wings."
They soared into a long circle, cold air whistling against their faces, the industrial mass of the city sprawling out beneath them. Cristof's body was warm and stable beneath hers, and pale light gleamed against his metal wings. Taya lifted her arms, feeling his shoulders move beneath her as she guided him.
"Good," she said, as they rose on the thermal. "That's it. Fast downstroke, even and hard."
Metal feathers beat against the air, lifting them higher. She arched her back, lifting their tails higher to give them more upturn. Then she evened them out again in another long circle and showed him how to make a left turn. They wheeled next to a dark cliff, then out into the pale sky again. Taya smiled, feeling Cristof's body moving comfortably against hers at last. It felt good not to be fighting him anymore.
"Do you think you've got it?" she asked.
"I think so," he said. He sounded a little out of breath.
"Are you remembering to breathe?"
"Sometimes."
"Work on it. I'm going to lengthen the line between us. I'll be right above you, but you'll have to keep yourself up without my help."
"Wait! Don't!"
"I have to. We can't land together. Our wings will tangle."
"Not yet. I'm not ready yet."
"Sure you are. Keep your eyes open. Breathe."
"No — Taya — don't. Stay there!" She heard genuine fear in his voice. His wings tilted and she pulled hers back to keep them from tangling.
"Don't flap! I'm still here. Come on, let's get some height together."
For a minute they flew in silence, rising higher up the cliff face. The peaks of Oporphyr Tower gleamed in the first rays of sunlight, silhouetted against the clear sky. Taya sensed the morning winds increasing. When the sun rose over the mountain, the diispira would kick up and their landing would become much more difficult.
"Look ahead," she called out. "We're almost there."
"How — how do I land?" he asked with trepidation.
"We're going to land on the ground, not on a balcony. Put your face into the wind, lock up your tailset, and spread your wings. The ondium gives us lift, so we don't need to maneuver much. Backbeat your wings to slow down. Bend your knees like you're kneeling. If you don't keep them bent, you could break a leg. Head for a wide open space. Lean backward and let your knees hit the ground first and skid. Keep your wings high — you don't want them to touch the ground — and keep backbeating until you slide to a stop."
He was silent a moment.
"How do I backbeat?"
"I'll show you." She lifted them higher, then arched her back against his chest, throwing her wings out. Cristof faltered a moment, then followed her lead, leaning against her breast, keeping his arms in contact with hers. She quickly backbeat a few strokes, feeling them start to fall.
"Taya!"
"Trust your metal!" She twisted, wings out, forcing him to move with her. With a powerful downbeat they caught the wind again, pushing back up.
"Oh, Lady." He had tensed up again, his sides heaving as he breathed heavily. "I don't think I can do this."
"It's all right. You're doing fine. Just relax and don't think too hard."
"I always think too hard," he grated.
"This would be a good time to learn to trust your instincts."
"Do you have to let go?"
"Yes. I'll still be tied to you, and I'll reel myself back down if I have to. But if I try to land with you, we're both going to crash. There's no way we can synchronize our backbeating well enough to land together, not on your first flight."
He was silent, but at last she felt him nod.
"Okay. Keep your arms locked into a glide for a minute."
As soon as they'd steadied into a glide, she locked her wings and pulled one arm free, uncoiling the line that bound them together.
"Remember, I'm right here. I'm not going to let you fall. Do you trust me?" She worked her arm back into the wing.
He nodded again, jerkily.
"Okay. Stay in a glide until I tell you otherwise." She lifted her wingtips up and let them separate, moving ahead and over him. The safety line slithered down in a long arc between them.
"One stroke up. Lift your wings. That's it. Now downstroke." Taya kept herself behind him as he gingerly pushed forward. The line cleared his wings. "Good. Again. Up — down."
She let the distance between them increase. They drew closer to the mountaintop as the sun rose higher, its bright rim peeking over the cliffs.
"Good! Now, tilt your wings down just a little. A little! Don't flap so hard. We're heading to that bare spot of dirt on the left of the courtyard. See it?"
"Yes."
"We're on the descent. Remember, if you flip or stall, you're still going to stay aloft, so don't panic. Now. Keep tilting your wings down as you fly, and gently tilt your tail down, too. Easy!"
Together they flew lower, heading for the council grounds. Cristof still moved too abruptly but, engineer that he was, he'd grasped the mechanics of flying. She seldom had to repeat an instruction.
Still, landing was the most dangerous part of a flight. Taya prayed he wouldn't panic or mistime his movements. If he broke an arm or leg, their investigation would be over before it began, and he'd never trust her again.
Her own heart started to beat faster as they drew closer to the ground, and she sucked in a deep breath, forcibly calming herself. He'd be fine. He was doing fine.
"Okay, now kick your tailset up out of your way and bend your knees," she shouted. "Cup your wings and backbeat. Remember, you want to slow down as much as possible! You will float!"
She fell in behind him, as far back as the safety line would let her go, and started to slow down, herself.
"Open your wing slots!" she shouted, watching him. "Knees forward! Like you're jumping on a bed!"
Had Cristof ever jumped on a bed in his life? It was hard to imagine.
She kicked her own tailset up. The winds weren't too bad. She could probably make a running landing, but she was afraid that if she tried, she'd stumble over Cristof. The only thing worse than him breaking an arm would be her breaking one. She could fly for help if he got injured, but she didn't think he'd be able to do the same for her.
"Slow down and lean backward! Lift your arms up!"
His knees hit the ground, their heavy protective pads digging furrows into the dirt as he threw his weight as far back as he could, nearly flat on his back. She breathed a sigh of relief as he skidded to a halt, buoyed by the extra ondium on his harness.
Her own landing was only a little more graceful as she let herself slide in behind him.
"Are you all right?" She locked her wings high and staggered to her feet, wincing as her knees protested. She stripped off her cap, goggles, and gloves.
Cristof's wings had fallen to the ground, and his head was slumped forward as he panted. She walked over and knelt in front of him.
"Hey." She cupped his cold face in her hands. He was shaking and pale. "You did it. We're here."
He swallowed and nodded.
"Come on, exalted. Concentrate on what you're doing. Dragging your wings is bad form. Lift your arms up. Lock your wings upright."
Moving slowly, he followed her instructions, then slipped his arms free of the armature and yanked off his cap and goggles. They fell to the ground between his legs. His eyes were wide, his pupils dilated and his glasses askew.
"Easy, now." Taya smoothed his sweat-dampened hair and adjusted his glasses. "That was good. That was really good." She leaned forward and hugged him. "Silly crow. I told you that you could fly."
He stiffened a moment, then he grabbed her, pulling her close and clutching her as though his life depended on it.
Taya's heart lurched. She closed her eyes, pulse pounding.
In a minute he's going to let go and make some self-deprecating quip, and everything will be normal again.
Seconds passed. His breathing slowed and his trembling subsided. Taya waited for him to pull away, but instead he rested his forehead against her shoulder, still holding her.
She swallowed. Her fingers curled protectively in the thick, ragged thatch of his black hair, then ran down the sharp angles of his shoulders.
"I still feel like I'm falling," he said at last, looking up. A gleam of morning sunlight played around the wire rim of his glasses. "I'm afraid to let go."
For a moment she stared into his pale eyes.
"It's all right. You're safe." Her pulse pounded in her throat. Had anyone ever looked at her so desperately before? She'd wanted a glimpse behind his mask, and now she knew what was back there — a deep, aching loneliness. "There's nothing to be afraid of anymore."
"If I let go, you might fly away without me," he said, his voice cracking.
"I won't—"
He leaned forward and kissed her, one gloved hand sliding up into her hair.
For a moment Taya stiffened. Then she closed her eyes, letting herself relax into the moment. His tentative kiss slowly grew more confident as he realized she wasn't going to pull back.
Some critical part of her pointed out that it was ridiculous to kneel in the dirt and kiss this ungracious, ill-tempered outcaste, but the rest of her felt a surge of affection for him. The uncertain, eager way his fingers touched her cheeks and the back of her neck made her heart ache.
Poor, awkward crow. So much more determined and honest than his handsome brother had ever been.
Taya laid a hand against his jaw, tasting salt on his lips, and hooked the fingers of her other hand into the harness straps across his back as he pulled her as close as their metal keels would allow. He was so tall it felt like he was folding himself around her. He slid his hand from her hair to the small of her back as their tongues touched and their breath mingled. His kiss and his body seemed to provide the only warmth to be found in the cold mountain air.
For a long minute they held each other, lost in each other's lips, breath, and touch. Then, at last, Cristof pulled back and tugged off his glasses with one hand.
"I can't see," he said, breathlessly.
She glanced at his steamed lenses and laughed.
There's the self-deprecating quip I was waiting for
, she thought, relieved to be on familiar ground again. Her cheeks were flushed and her nerves were tingling.
And in a moment he'll push me away.
But she felt comfortable kneeling in front of him, his knees flanking hers, their bodies held inches apart by their ondium armatures. More comfortable than she'd ever felt with Alister.
"Keep them off," she suggested. "You don't need them right now."
"Lady." He rubbed the lenses on his flight suit sleeve and put his spectacles back on again. His lips tilted in a wry, sad smile as he gazed at her. "Don't tempt me. If we keep doing that, we'll never find Alister's program."
Taya studied him. There it was, the gentle push away. She couldn't blame him, really. He had to be as surprised by the moment as she was. But she still felt disappointed as she stood up, stretched her legs, and unsnapped the line between them.
"We'd better get to work then," she said, forcing a light tone.
Cristof clambered to his feet, picking up his cap and goggles. She saw him tug irritably at the harness straps that ran around his thighs, when he thought she wasn't looking, and she felt a little better.
They walked to the tower silently, both lost in their own thoughts.
Taya had never entered Oporphyr Tower from the ground. The front door was locked, and nobody responded to their pounding. She flew up until she found an open icarus dock door on the tower's second floor. She leaned over the balcony and managed to talk Cristof through an ungraceful hop up to it. He was light enough, with all his extra ondium, for her to grab his harness and haul him in as he staggered through an upright landing.
"You're doing fine," she assured him. "Better than our fledglings."
He shot her a sour look.
The building was dark, empty, and cold. They lit a lantern in the icarus dock office and carried it with them, their heavy boots loud on the tile floor.
"Wait." Taya laid a hand on Cristof's arm as they reached the stairs to Alister's office. "Look at that."
Dirt was scattered over one of the steps. Cristof picked it up and crumbled it between his gloved fingers. Then he looked at the thick soles of his boots and behind them.
"We've left a track, too. Do you think it's from one of the icarii who helped evacuate the place?"
"I don't think so. An icarus would have flown straight to the dock, where there's no dirt. Maybe it was tracked in by a lictor."
"Tower employees arrive by wireferry, which docks directly inside the tower," he pointed out. "But people might have been walking around outside the Tower during the rescues. I don't know why, though." He pulled off his gloves and jammed them into his belt, then unbuttoned the bulkiest pouch around his hip and pulled out his needler.
Taya made a face. "I'm really glad that didn't shoot me in the leg while we were flying."
Or kissing
.
"It has a safety." He tilted the barrel down and flipped a stiff switch by the trigger.
"Well, don't shoot some innocent lictor who stayed here to guard the place."
"I'll be careful." He stepped in front of her and headed up the stairs, muttering to himself whenever his metal feathers scraped the walls. He wasn't used to thinking in terms of wings yet. Taya followed, maneuvering more deftly through the halls.
The door to Alister's office was unlocked. Cristof pushed it open, looked inside, then let them both enter.
"It looks pretty much—" Taya stopped as her eyes fell on an empty patch on the floor. "Something's missing."
"A box?" Cristof leaned over the small rectangular area and brushed the papers next to it aside. "Not much dust. Whatever was here was taken recently. Can you tell what it was?"
Taya walked over and looked at the books and papers surrounding the empty spot. To her chagrin, she couldn't conjure up a clear mental image of what had been there when she'd last visited the office. She hadn't spent much time looking around. Most of her attention had been on Alister. "Let's see. There's a collection of Council minutes, two books on Si'sier economic theory, a book on, uh, reptiles of the Donweyr Waste? Wait, they're all written by people with C-names. So the box was probably a C, too. Clockwork Heart."
Cristof turned, looking around. "If this pile is C, where's L?"
"P is over there." She pointed to the place where she'd set down the plaster bust of Abatha Cardium.
Cristof knocked over a pile of books with his wings as he passed, swore, and looked around. "Plenty of ledgers here, but I don't see anything that looks like the Labyrinth Code."
"P is for program." Taya moved to the bust and stopped in front of a cabinet that matched the one in Alister's office. The lock on this one hung loose, too. She swung open the doors.
Row upon row of boxes, neatly labeled. None were missing.
"Maybe it's in here."
They quickly removed the lid of each box, checking the numbers stamped into the tin punch cards.
"The official code wouldn't be LC. What was it?" Taya muttered, setting a box aside.
"SA? Security Access?"
"If he wasn't using the programs’ nicknames, then Clockwork Heart might not be the missing C." Taya looked up, feeling a trace of panic. "We might not recognize it, even if it's here."
"He filed it under C in his office." Cristof rocked back on his heels. "And I don't see it in here, so it probably was in the box on the floor. So someone's taken it. And this version would be the one formatted for the Great Engine."
"If someone's got it, and it really can disable the Engine's security, then we're in trouble." Taya bit her lip, trying to remember everything the programmers had told them. "But whoever it is will need the Labyrinth Code to run Clockwork Heart the first time, right?"
"You should have left me behind and brought Kyle." Cristof scowled. "He'd understand this better than I do."
"No, I've got it," Taya said, earnestly. "Before the killer can run Clockwork Heart, he's got to run Labyrinth. But after Clockwork Heart has been run once, it doesn't matter what other security programs are set, because Clockwork Heart will let him bypass any security code that's added later. Right?"
"I don't know. Is that possible?"
"I'm pretty sure that's what got Kyle so upset."
Cristof looked grim. "I thought the twenty-five cards Pins had gotten her hands on were the first ones to be stolen. But remember what Emelie said about the technicians not noticing if the whole backup program were stolen? What if those cards were the last twenty-five? What if the thief already had seventy-five percent of the program?"
"But… once he found out from Pins that the last twenty-five cards were gone, he'd realize that his plan had been uncovered." Taya's eyes widened. "Maybe that's why he killed her. And that meant the only copy of Labyrinth Code he could use was the one still stored up here in Oporphyr Tower. And there was no way he could get access to it unless he moved everyone out of the Tower."
"So the explosion might not have been about Alister or Caster at all," Cristof said, looking pained. "It might have simply been a convenient way to isolate the Tower."
Taya rose with the lantern. "How do we get to the Great Engine?"
Cristof reached down to pick up the needler.
"The access doors are through the Council chamber," he said, standing. "Let's go."