“I’m heading into town, Papá,” I called to him in his study as I checked my pocket to make sure I still had the vault key. I hadn’t heard from Detective Atwood the last few days and now that I finally had another break between wedding planning meetings and social calls, I was going to get answers about that vault.
“Where are you going?” Papá glanced up from his paper, taking in my clothing at a glance. I’d chosen a structured bodice made from a gray velvet with a high-necked blouse and a deep purple skirt.
“I have a few errands to run.”
Papá’s gaze fixed on my lace gloves for just a second too long. “Such as?”
“I need to see Geneve and talk dress details, and then I thought I’d do a little window shopping.” I shrugged and readjusted my wide-brimmed hat and the goggles resting on them, trying to play it casual. With the wedding two and a half weeks away, Geneve and I were running out of time to finalize my dress.
“Are you done planning tomorrow’s dinner?”
“Yes,” I said. “And I’ve already worked with the bots to make sure the house is prepared when the other candidates come.” It was another political dinner and more wheel greasing. Nothing of interest, except that Desmarc would be coming over.
“Maybe I’ll come with you.” Papá folded his paper and stood.
“What? Why?”
“It’s been a while since we’ve spent some quality time together, especially with how many late nights I’ve had lately.” He raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by me questioning him. “Is that a problem?”
If by a while, he’d meant years, then yes.
“Of course not.” I struggled to regain my composure. “I just thought you had another meeting this morning.” In fact, I’d been counting on it, since I wasn’t sure when I’d have time to sneak out again. The closer we got to the wedding, the busier everything became.
Papá collected his jacket and decorative cane and walked over to me. “My meeting with Meridian Eliver was canceled, and I’ll push the rest back.”
With Papá in tow, today’s mission was going to be much more difficult, but I wasn’t willing to put it off. I was tired of waiting for answers.
“Prepare the steamcab,” Papá commanded a waiting server bot as he scribbled a note. He disappeared to send his message through the siphon, presumably to his now-canceled meetings, as the bot wheeled to the back entrance.
Papá returned and offered me his arm, and together we walked outside to wait by the front door. A minute later, the same bot pulled the cab around and stopped in front of us. The Annandale sigil—an elaborate brass A over a background with a sun bearing wings on the sides—gleamed in the light. Papá opened the door so I could climb inside.
Once he’d settled next to me on the plush velvet seat, he tapped the mahogany-paneled roof of the car with his cane.
The bot pulled out of the driveway and onto the road heading north. In truth, we were lucky to have bots capable of driving us around since Papá refused to have human servants. Considering most bots were only entrusted with basic household chores, only the most expensive ones were advanced enough to navigate the city safely in a car. But money was never an issue for an Annandale. And as Papá always said, a bots’ loyalty was much easier to ensure than a person’s.
I glanced back at the house. Steam escaped from a few pipes on the roof, leaving small white circles puffing against the blue sky. I tried to remember it the way it had been when I was a child. For a moment, I could imagine her chasing me across the lawn that stretched around the manor. I could see the servers polishing the brass detailing and the hodgepodge of circular and rectangular windows until they glinted in the light.
“Let’s go to Geneve’s first, then get some lunch.”
“All right.” I covered my surprise at him suggesting more time together and thought fast. Geneve’s shop and Papá’s bank were in the Eleventh Chime, which made it the best place to start my search. If I struck out with Papá’s bank, I’d have to find time another day.
I cracked open the window and gazed outside at the Steele as it wound through the countryside like a molten snake of liquid silver. A mechanical riverboat glided along its surface, billowing steam. The scent of spiced tea and roasted chestnuts teased us from another estate as we passed, and I breathed it in with relish. The scent helped calm my racing heart.
We passed only a few other estates of the elite, mixtures of architectural masterpieces with arched roofs and swooping designs, as we headed to the Eleventh. After last night’s storm, the sky was bright and clear. As the light reflected off the metal, the city gleamed and shone like it demanded attention, and the red and orange trees almost made it look like the countryside was on fire.
I stared at Papá from the corner of my eye as we bumped along. Aside from my knife lessons, it’d been quite a while since we’d spent quality time together out of the public’s eye for no other reason than simply to be together.
He sat with one hand on his cane and the other fiddling with the goggles hanging from around his neck. The sight reminded me of the ones I’d found in Mamá’s garden, making my curiosity boil over like an unwatched kettle. Maybe now was my chance to get some answers. If I brought up Slipping, most likely Papá would find out I’d been doing it more and more, but I needed answers more than I needed to avoid another fight.
“Papá, can I ask you a question?”
“Of course, Kyra.” He stared out the window, his thoughts seemingly elsewhere. I reveled in the last moment of peace before I rocked the airship.
“Why do you think Slipping is dangerous?” I got straight to the point, hoping the abruptness could startle the truth out of him.
He stiffened and his gaze swung to mine. “Why would you ask that?”
“I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately.”
“Have you been Slipping?” His tone hardened.
My stomach clenched, but after a moment, I said, “Yes.” Better to tell him the truth now instead of him finding out some other way. Now that I’d decided to try to get more answers, I’d have to be more upfront as well. “And I haven’t found anything dangerous.”
His hand tensed on his cane. “You promised you weren’t going to do that anymore.”
“I made that promise as a little girl,” I said. “I didn’t know any better.”
“You’re still a little girl.”
“I’m either old enough for you to marry me off and use in your political games, or I’m your little girl, but you can’t have it both ways.”
His expression tightened, making the lines around his eyes more prominent. “Slipping leaves your body defenseless,” he finally said. “Plus, it’s too unknown, too unpredictable. What if you didn’t come back? I won’t risk losing you.”
We stared each other down across the steamcab, but I couldn’t read the emotion that flickered through his eyes. He was telling the truth, or at least part of it, but there was more to it.
“Why do you call it Slipping?” I kept my tone as disinterested as I could manage so he wouldn’t hear the suspicion or hurt in it.
He dropped his attention to his cane. “Because you slipped through time. It felt like an easy enough name for you to understand as a child.”