Clockwork Twist : Missing (9 page)

“Oh, I like you,” Skye said, smiling widely to him with a dangerous and enticing fire in her eyes. Twist felt his face flush with a subtle heat, and she laughed softly at him as he turned quickly away. “So why are we
really
off to Australia, Twist?” she asked, looking away again, to his relief.

“Oh, I’m…” He paused, remembering how mad his story sounded. “I’m looking for someone,” he said instead.

“A boy named Storm, right?” she asked. “I read the brief. But it didn’t say why. What’s up? Who is this kid?” she asked curiously.

“An old friend,” Twist offered, realizing that “a little boy who saw other people’s dreams” wasn’t the most normal of things. Neither was a man who no one else in the world had heard of, who was now possibly on his way to Jupiter. Even if Skye was a Rook, and therefore likely accustomed to strange things, Twist was acutely aware that these were very strange things indeed.

“Fine, have your secrets,” she said, dropping her voice and narrowing her eyes. It took Twist a moment of confusion to realize that she was playfully mocking him.

“What brought you into the service of the Rooks?” Twist asked, anxious to get the conversation away from the strangeness of his life.

“Oh, boy…” Skye said with a wide smile. “That’s a long story. Have you got a year?” Twist paused, unsure if he was supposed to respond, but Skye gave a sigh. “The quick version is that I stole something from Aden. He was so impressed he offered me a job.”

“I see…” Twist silently wondered if Aden ever turned a profit. “What did you steal? If you don’t mind my asking.”

“A Bengal tiger cub,” she said easily.

Twist stared at her in shock. Skye laughed again.

“Told you it was a long story,” she said with a clever grin. “Would it help if I told you that I grew up in a circus?”

“Actually, yes,” Twist said as evenly as he could. “I think this is the one situation where that information would ease my confusion.”

“I get the feeling I’m confusing you a hell of a lot,” Skye said sheepishly. “Sorry, sugar, I’m not trying to, you know.”

Twist took a thoughtful breath. He needed to say something now, if they were going to have anything close to a proper conversation.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” he said, leaning closer as if to impart a secret, “but on top of the bizarre things that you have a tendency to say, I’m afraid that you talk like an American, my dear. I feel I need a phrase book.”

A thoroughly delighted laugh bubbled out of her, blooming like a flower. “You’re the funniest little guy, ever!” she declared at the end of it. “I’m so glad Aden gave me your case. I’m gonna hav’ta spend more time with you on this trip!”

“Who’s up there?” yelled a gruff voice from below.

“Crap!” Skye yelped. “Let’s beat it!”

Twist stared at her, unable to make heads or tails of any of her words.

“We should run away now,” she said slowly, with appropriate hand gestures.

“Hey!” yelled the gruff voice again, this time revealing its owner as one of the coal-blackened crew as he climbed up onto the walkway. “You’re not allowed in here!”

Skye reached out to grab Twist’s hand. Twist’s heart leaped into his throat to see her hand so close to his, jolting him into motion before she could touch him. He rushed for the stairs as Skye followed close behind. As the worker hurried after them, Skye bolted ahead and took the lead. It was all Twist could do just to keep up with her as she bounded down a set of stairs and along another thin walkway, back toward the entry door. She laughed to herself gleefully as the worker, following at a run, yelled for them to stop.

In moments, they were back at the slightly open door. She burst through, Twist still with her, and they ran down the hallway, rushing out onto the somewhat busy promenade deck. Twist’s chest burned from the effort of running so hard, causing him to pause just outside the door. He leaned back against the wall near the door while Skye stood still beside him and scanned the light crowd on the deck with keen eyes.

“Excuse me,” Skye said to someone else.

She suddenly wrapped a bright-yellow scarf around Twist’s neck, while a hat he didn’t own appeared on his head. When he looked up, there was a dashing, silk top hat now on Skye’s head. She took a tight grip of the scarf around his neck and pulled him into the crowd.

“Wait, what—?” was all Twist managed to say before he found himself surrounded by people yet again.

“Shut it, and blend,” Skye whispered to him, now walking calmly beside him and away from the doorway.

“What?” Twist demanded. “Shut what? Blend what with what?”

“They are looking for us,” she said to him, speaking tightly and enunciating slowly. “Shut your mouth and try to blend into the crowd.”

“Ah,” Twist toned, fighting the urge to look back. “Thank you for translating.”

“You got it, sugar,” she said, smiling again.

Twist suppressed the urge to ask what it was that she thought he “got,” in favor of quietly wondering why every American young woman he met insisted on calling him “sugar.”

After managing to blend into the crowd well enough to evade capture, Skye and Twist came to a stop in their innocent-looking promenade around the open deck. Skye reached up to take the yellow scarf back from Twist’s neck—while he froze in fright—and then paused, looking at him in the ever-so-slowly failing light of the almost-constant sunset. Twist, feeling suddenly terribly awkward to be stared at, shifted on his feet.

“I really don’t know what I was thinking,” Skye said, shaking her head. She reached up to snatch the hat off of his head. “You look horrible in a derby. Here, try this,” she said, quickly moving the stolen top hat from her head to his.

“Will you stop that?” Twist shouted suddenly, watching her hands move far too close to him for what felt like the millionth time.

“What?” Skye asked, her eyes innocent and reproachful, the bowler now on her head at a fetching angle.

Twist took a moment to focus on getting his heart to slow down again. “Please, try not to touch me. I have a Sight. It’s…very distressing to be touched.” He took the top hat off as he spoke, grateful for any reason to glance away from her eyes.

“Oh,” Skye said, her voice softer now. Twist looked back to her, expecting to find fear, pity, or even rebuke. To his shock, her expression was merely curious. “I’ve never heard of a Sight that the owner didn’t want to use.”

“I’m…different,” Twist muttered uneasily. Even the kindest word still sounded like “freak” to his ears. Only Jonas could call him that.

Skye smiled. “Buddy, you’ve got to own that.”

Twist frowned and looked to the hat in his hands.

“No, no,” Skye said through a laugh. “I mean, if you’re a freak and you know it, you have to be proud of it. You can’t let yourself feel ashamed of being outside the norm. I started my life as a circus clown. I know a thing or two about weirdness.”

Twist could only stare back at her, while her words ignited a wholly new thought in his mind. Not once in his life had he ever considered his own strangeness as anything to be proud of. People had called him a freak all his life, either in words or simply in the way they looked at him. But Jonas had made the word into his own private, affectionate term for Twist. Perhaps he had been thinking along the same lines as Skye.

“I thought you wanted to be alone,” a new voice said from beside them. Skye and Twist turned to see Arabel standing there with a suspicious chill to her face.

“I went to the engine room…” Twist began, meaning to continue.

“Love the boots!” Skye said suddenly, pointing to Arabel’s feet.

“Thank you,” Arabel said, a smile appearing on her face. Skye smiled back at her brightly. “Skye, isn’t it?” Arabel asked. “I haven’t seen you in days. Where’ve you been hiding?”

“Oh, you know,” Skye said lightly. “Rafters, closets, dustbins…here and there.” Arabel stared back at her, obviously unsure how to respond.

“She was hiding in the engine room, too, when I found her,” Twist offered. Arabel nodded slowly. He leaned closer to Arabel and shielded his voice with a hand. “And on a side note, she’s only said about four things so far that I’ve totally understood.” A smile twitched onto Arabel’s face. Skye laughed.

“Stuffy little limey,” she shot at him, as if fondly, though Twist struggled to figure out how something like that could be said fondly. “But you know,” she went on, looking to Arabel now, “my orders only mentioned Myra and Twist. I never caught your name.”

“Arabel Davis,” she said, offering Skye a handshake. “I’m a treasure hunter.”

“Exciting…” Skye said admiringly, shaking her hand. “Find anything really neat recently?”

“I found Myra, actually,” Arabel said proudly. “My Sight lets me find anything.”

“Nice!” Skye exclaimed, looking highly impressed. “I’ll bet that comes in handy. Do you ever lose your keys?”

Arabel laughed and shook her head.

“And what about you?” Arabel asked pleasantly. “I heard something about you being from a circus…”

“Oh yeah. Great fun. I still remember all my Shakespeare.”

“Shakespeare?” Twist asked.

“Sure,” Skye said with a shrug. “I mean, yeah, these days clowns are mostly doing pratfalls and stupid stuff, but when I was a kid we used to recite literature between acts.”

Twist listened carefully, picking her swift speech apart for meaning. “I see,” he said, finally. “I’ve never been to a circus.” The moment the words left his mouth, he feared that they might offend her.

“Really? Why not?” Skye asked quickly, almost snapping.

Twist looked at her in mild fright. “Oh, well…I just…” There was a flash of fire in her eyes, but it didn’t look exactly like anger to Twist.

Skye leaned closer to him with narrowed eyes. “You got something against the circus, townie?” Something in her voice—something subtle and hidden—wasn’t threatening at all.

“Nothing of the sort,” Twist said quickly as he took a step away and raised his hands defensively, trying to look frightened. “Please don’t hit me!” He turned his face away as well, to hide the smile on it.

Skye brandished a fist at him, obviously struggling not to smile herself. “Watch it, sugar! I’ve got pies, and I know how to use them!” A snicker got away from Twist. He dropped his defense slightly to look at her.

“Where are you hiding them?”

Skye crossed her arms and took on a lofty pose. “A girl’s got to have her secrets.” Twist snickered again.

“Are you…playing?” Arabel asked slowly.

“Yeah,” Skye said flatly. “Why? He’s not the playing type or something?” Twist pulled himself back into a more normal position as she spoke, feeling rather pleased with his intuition.

“So, where’s Myra?” he asked loudly, before Arabel could answer.

“Oh, she was talking to someone,” Arabel said, glancing behind her. “I thought they were just behind me…”

A quick search revealed Myra to be standing in the center of a circle of men, each of them staring at her in varying states of wonder and contemplation. Twist and the others quietly fitted into the edge of the loose circle.

“Then it must be radio waves,” said one of the men.

“No, I am the puppeteer,” Myra said with a gesture to herself. Her tone betrayed impatience. “No one else is controlling me.”

“It has to be radio waves,” said another man. “There is no other feasible way to control the limbs and send the voice at the same time.” Myra gave a sigh and shook her head.

“The sound could be sent by radio,” said yet another man, “but the limbs could be controlled separately by a complex use of magnetism.”

“Twist, darling!” Myra said suddenly when she noticed his arrival, and moved closer to him. “Will you please explain to these silly engineers what I am?” she asked, gesturing to the crowd around her.

“To be accurate, that would take a great deal of time,” Twist answered.

“I thought you were that fairytale princess,” Skye said to Myra easily.

“Yes, I am,” Myra gasped, nodding quickly.

“Yeah, so you’re alive,” Skye said, glancing to the men who were now watching her with uncertain eyes. “She’s not a puppet. She’s a person.”

“Exactly!” Myra said eagerly. “Thank you. Yes. I’m a person,” she added to the crowd.

“Of course,” Twist said gently, taking her hand to give it a supportive squeeze. She smiled at him gratefully, while his Sight tingled with her vindication.

“Are you the puppeteer, then?” one of the men asked Twist brightly. “It’s a fantastic illusion. How do you do it?” Myra shot him an icy glare as her emotions froze over, cold and sharp, in Twist’s Sight.

“Magnets, right?” another added with a wink.

“A magician never reveals his tricks,” Twist answered loftily. He saw Myra’s wounded expression, but reached out to put his arm around her shoulders as he turned her to leave. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, she needs to be wound up.”

“I told you it could be springs!” one of the men said to the others triumphantly.

Twist hurried his pace to get some distance from them. He felt dark, shifting, bitter waves in the emotions that poured into his Sight and stole a glance at Myra’s face to find a mask of pure disappointment.

“Those men couldn’t believe the truth even when it was staring them in the face,” Twist said gently to her. “What else could I have said to them?” Her gaze fell to her feet. “It doesn’t matter what they believe, anyway,” he continued. “They’re not important.”

“So really,” Skye said, hurrying to catch up to Myra and Twist, “I don’t want to be rude at all, but I just have to know. What exactly are you?”

“Didn’t you just tell them?” Myra asked, her eyes wide with disappointment.

“Oh yeah, I get it,” Skye said quickly. “I mean, it’s obvious you’re not just a puppet. I know the story and all, but still. What are you? Some kind of fairy?”

“I’m not a fairy,” Myra said, her voice colored with a pout. “I’m a human being. Or, I was. I’m a spirit now.”

“Like a ghost? For real?” Skye asked excitedly, looking at her in wonder.

“No, I’m not a ghost,” Myra said instantly. “I never died. I’m just in a new body now.”

“That’s incredible,” Skye said, her face warming into a wide smile.

“Do you believe me?” Myra asked hesitantly.

“Sure, why not?” Skye answered with a shrug. “I’m no stranger to the bizarre.”

“I’m not bizarre!” Myra shot back quickly. Twist readied a remark to cease this discussion.

“No, I guess you’re not,” Skye conceded with the edge of a laugh. “You two make a wonderful couple,” she added quickly to Twist before looking back to Myra. “Would you prefer to be called fantastic, extraordinary, wonderful, or just simply enchanting?”

Pride bloomed in Myra’s emotions at these new adjectives, warming Twist’s skin as he still held her gently. “I’ll take enchanting, thank you,” she said with a smile.

Skye laughed. “I swear, I’m so glad I got assigned to you. There ain’t gonna be a lick of boredom in my future, is there?”

“What?” Twist asked her.

“She thinks we are entertaining,” Myra said to him, softly.

“Thank you, darling,” Twist said to her.

Skye laughed to herself and shook her head. “God, I love my job…”