Clockwork Heart by Dru Pagliassotti Page A

as they’re finished.”
    â€œDon’t you have a clock of your own?”
    â€œNothing unusual.” He hesitated, then slid a gold pocket watch from his plain black vest, unhooking its chain from a buttonhole. “I made this a long time ago. It doesn’t look like much, but it’s extremely accurate.”
    Taya gingerly took the watch from his thin fingers, feeling the chain slip over her wrist. The warm, heavy case was made of pure gold and was the most expensive thing she’d ever held.
    The watch seemed very simple, for an exalted’s timepiece. No jewels or inlay adorned the case; just the simple engraved design of a gear. The case vibrated like a small heart in her hand. She held it to her ear, hearing it tick.
    â€œHere.” Cristof stood and leaned across the table, showing her how to open it. His fingers were just as cold as they’d been the night before.
    The watch’s face was a pearlescent grey, its quartile numbers and hands gleaming gold. Taya laughed, delighted.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œNothing. I mean, the outside was so plain that I was expecting the inside to be plain, too.” She tilted the watch toward the dim light from the window, admiring it. “It’s beautiful. This shade of grey matches your eyes.”
    Across the table, Cristof made a strangled noise and sat back down.
    â€œIt’s mother-of-pearl, isn’t it? I’ve seen jewelry made out of it, in the Markets. Did it come from the North Sea?”
    â€œNo. It’s imported from the south.” He was giving her a strange look. Taya blushed. Had her question been stupid?
    â€œI’d love to see the sea someday,” she said, to cover her embarrassment, and then she felt even more ridiculous. “I mean, I’d like to see what seashells look like in the wild.” She closed the case and handed it back, certain he was laughing at her. “Is the gear your personal insignia? Or is it a clockwright’s symbol?”
    Cristof dragged his gaze away from her face and slipped the watch back into his vest pocket, a line furrowing his brow again.
    â€œIt doesn’t mean anything.”
    â€œIt must mean something,” she insisted. “Or you wouldn’t have put it on your watch.”
    â€œI made the watch years ago.” He picked up the stout bottle, realized it was empty, and set it down again. “I suppose I had some sort of asinine notion about taking the gear as my personal insignia, but I outgrew it. Besides, it’s not what a watch looks like that’s important, but how accurately it measures time.”
    Taya nodded. He was withdrawing again. She changed the subject. “That’s true. We’ve got a really nice clock in my eyrie, but it’s off by about ten minutes. My landlady keeps resetting it, but in a day or two, it’s right back where it started. We’ve all gotten to the point where we look at it and automatically add ten minutes. Then, whenever she resets it, we’re ten minutes early to everything.”
    â€œDoes she wind it at the same time every day?”
    â€œI think so. It’s a little hard to tell, with that clock.”
    â€œTch.” Cristof’s lips tightened. “What good is a clock that doesn’t do its job? I can fix it, if you want.”
    â€œI don’t think we could afford your services, Exalted.”
    He gave her a sidelong look and lifted one thin shoulder in a casual shrug. “It doesn’t cost anything for me to look at it.”
    Taya lowered her head so he wouldn’t see her smile. His offer of help was as awkward and graceless as his offer of food and drink, but she had a feeling he meant it. He really did love clocks.
    â€œThat’s very kind of you. I live in Three Alcides. I’m sure the landlady would let you in as soon as you explained why you were there.”
    â€œMaybe if…” He paused. “You said you’re off-duty today? Is