"My family doesn't need my help. Not the kind of help that requires me to put on a mask, anyway," he said, forestalling her protest. "Besides, it's too early to think about returning to Primus. We don't even know what's going to happen yet."
Taya glanced at him. It was clear what was going to happen, and they both knew it. But she didn't argue.
"All right." She made an attempt to lighten the mood. "I was wondering what you might look like with long hair and jewels, though."
"Ridiculous."
"I was
"
"I mean, I look ridiculous."
"Well, somebody needs to do something about your hair. You have to stop cutting it yourself. Even that little sweep girl of yours could do a better job."
"Jessica? She'd cut off my ears."
"She was cute. ‘Clockite.’ I like that."
"She's a pest. I can't get rid of her." He sounded put out. "For some reason my shop fascinates children."
"Well, it's filled with all kinds of fascinating things. Did you show them the flying birds?"
He muttered something. She laughed.
"I don't know why you can't just be nice to them, for a change."
"If I'm nice, they'll come around even more often than they do now, and I'd never get any work done."
"I see. So by that logic, if I decide I don't want you hanging around—"
He gave her an alarmed look, and Taya realized he wasn't confident enough for that kind of teasing. She adjusted her response.
" — then I'll have to suggest something unpleasant, like taking another flight together."
"Yes, that might scare me away."
"Too bad. I liked flying with you." She put on a thoughtful expression. "I liked landing with you even better."
He closed his eyes and sighed. "I don't suppose there's any chance you really mean that."
"You'll never find out if you keep sitting so far away from me."
He swallowed and opened his eyes again.
"I am aware the correct response would be to swing across to sit next to you," he said, sounding pained, "but if I tried, I'd hit my head on the ceiling, or fall on top of you, or do something equally graceless that would embarrass us both."
She laughed. "You're thinking too much again."
"Thinking isn't a habit I'm likely to break."
Taya shook her head, exasperated. A minute later the hack rattled to a halt and Gregor sang out the name of the restaurant.
"Allow me." Cristof unfolded himself first, exiting and setting his toolbag and her crutches onto the cobbles. He helped Taya slide out. The manuever was a little inelegant as she tried to avoid putting too much weight on her wounded leg.
"Are you all right?" he asked, steadying her.
"Just cold." She started to lift her hand to fasten the cloak-clasp around her neck, only to find that he wasn't letting go. "What—"
He cupped her cheek with one hand and kissed her.
Startled, Taya stood frozen a moment. Then she collected herself, wrapped her arms around his neck, and lifted herself up to return the kiss.
She felt him shiver as he lowered his head again, his lips soft as they brushed against hers. Taya closed her eyes, surprised by how content she felt to be held by him as her cloak slipped off her shoulders and passers-by whistled.
When they separated a second time, Taya lifted his glasses from his face. The lenses were steamed opaque.
"That was nice," she murmured, smiling up at him. The autumn wind stirred his hair, and he wore an expression she didn't think she'd ever seen before. She touched his lips with her free hand. "Why, Cris, you're positively handsome when you smile."
Gregor cleared his throat from his driver's bench.
"Maybe you'd like a tour of Secundus, you two?" he asked, fighting to keep a poker face. "Take me a couple hours to make a complete circuit of the sector, most like."
Cristof looked up, blinking as he tried to focus without his glasses.
"Um — not today." His hands slid from Taya's waist. "Here—" He reached into his greatcoat for his pocketbook.
"Oh, you needn't worry yourself about that, exalted." Gregor's eyes crinkled with humor. "I weren't going to charge you anyway, not the city's heroes. You two have a nice lunch, then." He saluted them with his coachman's whip and shook the reins.
"Thank you, Gregor!" Taya shouted, as the hack rattled away. He waved.
When she looked back, Cristof's smile had shifted back to his more familiar mocking expression.
"What?" She faced him and carefully slid his glasses back on.
"You make friends with everyone, don't you?"
"It's better than making enemies."
He nudged the frames back down to the right angle. "Interesting concept."
"By the way, I think you've reached ‘rarely’ now."
"What comes after that?"
"'Sometimes.’"
"A new goal."
He held her closely until he'd settled her into a seat by one of the restaurant windows. Taya set her crutches against the wall, enjoying the attention. Since Cristof didn't know anything about Cabisi food, she suggested a few dishes, which led them into a discussion of her curiosity about foreign lands and the diplomatic corps exams. He listened to her with a grave air, asking probing questions.
They were halfway through their lunch when Taya heard her name called. She twisted in her seat.
Lars stood in the restaurant doorway, looking uneasy. She gestured, and he lumbered past the other diners, shaking his shaggy hair back over his shoulders.
"Taya, I'm glad to see you. I'm looking for Kyle. You haven't seen him, have you?"
"No." Taya set down her spoon, hearing the concern in his voice. "Why?"
"What's wrong?" Cristof asked, his face settling into its usual frown. Lars gave the exalted a startled look, noticing him for the first time, then bowed, palm against forehead.
"You haven't seen him, have you?" the big man asked, plaintively. "He talked to the lictors yesterday about Alister and Clockwork Heart."
Cristof shook his head. "He didn't talk to me. Has something happened?"
"He — the prototype—" Lars grimaced. "We've got a problem, exalted. You're a lictor, right? Or something like that?"
Cristof looked across the table at Taya. "Do you want to wait here?"
"No." She pushed her bowl away and reached for her crutches. "Let's go."
Lars looked relieved, hurrying back out. Taya followed, pulling her fur cloak around her neck and limping after him. Cristof grabbed his toolkit and spoke to one of the servers as they left.
Outside, Lars pulled them into an alley.
"I didn't want to notify the lictors, not until I was sure what happened," he said nervously. "I tried Kyle's flat, but nobody answered, so I thought maybe he'd gone out for lunch, but—"
"Lars!" Cristof's voice was cold. "Stop babbling."
The programmer's mouth closed and he nodded.
"Now. Why are you looking for Kyle?"
Lars licked his lips. "The prototype engine. It's missing."
Taya gave Cristof a swift look, and he returned her gaze, his expression grim. Her first thought was of Alister, and she knew that he was thinking the same thing.
"That's the new analytical engine?" she asked, turning her attention back to the programmer. "The one Alister was inspecting?"
"Yes. It's, um—" he gestured, at a loss for words. "It's something brand new. Ground breaking. I mean, it's only duplicating the functionality of the Great Engine, but to do it on a human scale—"
"When did you find out it was gone?" Cristof cut him off.
"Maybe… two, three hours ago?" Lars sounded uncertain. "I couldn't sleep, not with the news about Alister, so I decided to go do some work while I was up. Nobody else was down there, but things had been moved, so I thought maybe one of us had curled up to take a nap in one of the other rooms. That happens, sometimes. I went looking and saw scratches and scuff marks, so I knew something wasn't right—"