Clockwork Twist : Missing (7 page)

The airship docks over London grew even more bustling and chaotic as midday approached. Traders hurried to shift their wares to and fro. Countless travelers from around the world flowed like river rapids over the iron platforms and stairs, as they seemed to be constantly confused about which ship was theirs, while the scurrying pickpockets made the best of the situation. It was all Twist could do just to keep from touching anyone.

Myra put her arm around his back and walked very close to him as they shifted through the crowds. In moments like these, she and Jonas had fallen into an automatic routine. With one of them on either side of Twist, they always managed to keep him safe from being touched by anyone. No matter how he tried, Twist couldn’t stop himself from lingering on the thought that now, there was only Myra.

Not noticing any of this, Aden and Arabel led the way to the ticket office, in the center of the scrambling iron maze of the airship docks, while the two silent Rooks followed behind like watchful shadows. Once they reached the passenger ticket office, Aden ducked inside and asked the others to wait outside. There was a thick crowd of relatively respectable-looking people moving quickly in and out of the office with luggage and tickets, and it seemed like a melee inside. Twist acquiesced easily and glanced over the ads that were posted beside the door. Huge, colorful posters boasted of fantastic journeys to every corner of the globe, ranging from cheap getaway to long, all-encompassing tours.

After a moment, Twist spotted the one that Aden had mentioned. It seemed to be a pleasure cruise that promised views of constant night, vast and glittering ice fields, and the twinkling aurora lights on a route that reached over the very top of the world, flying directly from London, to Tokyo for a short stop, and then down to Melbourne and back again over the North Pole. The luxurious, round-trip journey would take over two weeks, but it was only an impressive seven days to reach Melbourne—according to the brightly colored poster. It claimed that no other route on Earth could make the same distance any faster. After checking his pocket-sized copper globe, Twist had to admit it seemed rather direct.

A few minutes later, Aden emerged with four tickets. He’d booked a double cabin for Myra and Arabel, a single for Twist, and another single for the Rook agent who would be joining them later. He handed the fourth ticket to one of the suited Rooks and asked him to give it to the agent when she arrived. He then handed the other three to Twist.

“Now, I assume you remember what happened when you tried to get away from your escort, Moroni, in Santiago,” Aden said gently.

Twist’s mind filled with the rather long list of trying and dangerous events that had followed that decision: They had been taken prisoners by pirates, sold to Cyphers, and then nearly blow apart by the powerful cannons of a submarine. That was all, of course, not even mentioning the sword fight that had left a scar on Twist’s wrist, the horror of choosing to throw Myra into the Caribbean Sea to save her from a worse fate, or the effects of the strange Sight-enhancing drug that Loki had given to Twist. Twist shuddered to remember it all.

“So, this time,” Aden said tightly, “please try to remember that your escort is there to protect you. Don’t go running off and leave her behind.”

“Is this one anything like Tasha or Niko?” Myra asked brightly. “I liked them very much.”

“Oh yes, they were rather pleasant,” Twist said, remembering them as well.

“Well, she’s not a magician,” Aden said thoughtfully. “But she was a circus clown, once upon a time. I imagine you’ll get on just fine.”

“A circus clown?” Arabel gasped, looking alarmed. “You’ll hire anyone, won’t you?”

“Only the best,” Aden said, smiling to her. “And you can still have a place with us any time you choose.”

“Yeah, yeah…” Arabel said with a sigh, looking away.

“Well, then, I’ll leave you here,” Aden said. “Your ship, the
Aeolus
, is just over there. Huge thing. You can’t miss it. I’ll be following your case closely, and I’ll pass on anything I learn to you.” He then took a breath, put on a smile, and looked at Twist directly. “Good luck.”

Twist was happy to see Aden and his Rooks hurry off into the crowd, as he and the others headed on to their own journey. Once his steps were turned toward his goal, Twist felt a small flash of excitement. He savored the feeling, knowing instantly that it was a learned reaction: the direct result of the time he’d spent with Jonas.

The
Aeolus
was one of the new breed of flamboyant, extravagant, behemoth airships that were large enough to cast shadows over entire small towns as they lumbered through the sky. This ship boasted over five hundred guest cabins and a capacity of over two thousand passengers and crew, with twelve massive decks stacked on top of each other in a long, sweeping arc of gleaming silver and glass.

The sheer size of the main supporting hydrogen balloon boggled the mind, stretching out a thousand feet in length from tip to tail. Promenade decks reached out on the sides of the hull to make the most of the sunlight that managed to get around the enormous balloon, like gleaming white mushrooms on the side of an oak tree. Traditional steam-powered propellers hung from the stern, with blades that looked small against the rest of the ship even at their height of twenty feet each.

Twist stared up at the ship while he and the others waited near the back of the line to board, totally unable to believe that humanity had managed to conceive of, or actually build, something so ridiculous. A constant stream of people walked excitedly up the gangplanks to the second deck, filling the ship almost to capacity. Sky tourism was obviously coming into its golden age.

Twist was surprised to see, however, that only some of the passengers boarding ahead of them seemed to be British. Much of the crowd reminded him of people he’d seen in other parts of the world, and some looked to be Japanese—dressed in colorfully printed cotton dresses with shining black hair in styles that looked alien to him—likely returning home.

“Is that it?” one of the porters asked another after he punched Twist’s ticket.

“Let me check,” the other said, reading over a clipboard.

“Wait! Hold it!” called a voice that sounded out of breath. Twist glanced back to see a boy running toward the gangplank with a ticket in his hand. “I’m late, I’m sorry!” he gasped, pulling the tight leather cap off his head and fanning himself with it as he hurried to the porters.

Twist suddenly realized that it wasn’t a boy at all, but a woman with a strikingly boyish but quite beautiful face. Her hair was the color of glowing embers and was cut very short, with long bangs hanging before her ears to frame her sky-blue eyes. Her clothes didn’t make her look any more like a woman, but when she caught Twist’s glance, the pure loveliness of her wild, winded, and fiery smile confirmed her gender for him just fine.

“Did I make it?” she asked the porters quickly, with a fast, flippant, American accent. “Tell me I made it. I just hav’ta make it.”

“Yes, you made it,” the porter assured her with a smile of his own. “Welcome aboard.”

She took her ticket back and then threw her hands in the air. “Yes!” she cheered, hopping happily as she hurried up the gangplank past Twist and his companions. “Australia, here I come!” she called to the world in general.

“That one’s happy,” Myra whispered to Twist’s ear as the woman bounded onto the deck. “He must really like to travel.”

“Actually, I think that was a woman,” Twist whispered back. Myra looked to him with mild surprise.

“Honestly,” Arabel huffed as they reached the end of the gangplank and stepped onto the deck. “A girl puts on a pair of trousers, and suddenly she’s no longer a woman,” she said with all possible disdain.

“But her hair was very short, too,” Myra pointed out.

“Still!” Arabel huffed, crossing her arms. “I’ve got long hair, and people still call me ‘sir’ sometimes when they don’t see my face.”

“I’d bet that you would look quite nice in a dress,” Twist offered in hopes of calming Arabel. She turned on him with eyes like daggers. “Be…because you’re such a radiant and lovely woman already,” he added quickly. “You look great no matter what you wear.”

Myra giggled while Arabel’s anger cooled to a smolder in her glare.

“Hang on a second,” a voice asked from farther down the deck. Twist and the others turned to find the ginger American looking at Myra intently. “Sorry to bother you, but you seem to be made of metal. Are you Myra?”

“Yes!” Myra said, smiling instantly. “How do you know me?”

“Aden sent me,” the woman said with a smile, as her eyes swept over Twist and Arabel. “Twist, right?” she asked, offering a handshake. “I’m Skye. I’m your escort.”

Twist looked to her sun-browned fingers and wondered briefly if her hand would feel as warm Jonas’s did. He gave her a short bow and tipped his hat with a smile.

“Nice to meet you!” Myra said happily, taking the handshake.

“You too,” Skye said with another sunny smile. “Well, I know what you look like now,” she said very quickly. It took Twist another moment to work her speedy accent into words he understood. “I’m sorry, but I’m really late. I just got the call half an hour ago. I’ve gotta go get myself together. You know,
T
s to cross,
I
s to dot, paperwork and the like. I’ll catch you guys later, all right? We’ve only got seven days to get to know each other,” she added with a wink as she turned to hurry off.

Arabel and Twist stared after her with slight frowns, while Myra waved back.

“Was any of that English?” Arabel asked Twist slowly.

Twist let out a relieved breath. “Goodness, I’m glad you asked. I wondered if my mind was going. I only got bits of it.”

“What are you talking about?” Myra asked, looking confused.

“Myra, darling, do you understand American?” Twist asked her, visibly astonished.

“Oh, she’s American?” Myra asked lightly. “I thought she just talked fast.”

“That too,” Arabel said, nodding.

“Right,” Twist said, taking a breath. “Well, that’s our Rook, then. I swear, I never know what to expect from those people.”

“At least she seems nice,” Myra offered. “Should we go check into our cabins now, too?” she asked, smiling excitedly.

Lying back on the end of the bed, his legs hanging off the side and his arms out lazily, Twist stared up at the ceiling of his cabin. He could hear the other travelers bustling through the hallway outside—dull bangs, shuffles of luggage and feet, and indistinct voices. The noise and excitement outside somehow made his quiet little cabin seem all the more empty.

A distant memory surfaced in his listless mind, unbidden. He used to sit on his bed in the tiny attic room—disused maid quarters, to be more accurate—of the orphanage he grew up in and listen to the other boys moving about in the house below him on the days when it didn’t rain. When it did rain, the noise on the roof was loud enough to drown out the other sounds. But on those still, quiet, dreary London days when the skies only threatened rain, he would sit perfectly still and listen.

No boy ever got a private room at the orphanage, but Twist’s Sight had made it impossible for him to live in tight quarters with the others. At the time, there had been no one living in that part of the building. The arrangement was made once it became clear that Twist needed the separation. His mind drifted further into that time, recalling those first touches that had shown him the other boys’ pains—long, dark nights drowned in tears. Twist sat up and looked around him, studying the cabin to remind himself of where he was.

He took in the subtle patterns in the carpet and in the covers on the bed. He saw the writing desk beside the door, the dressing table under the porthole windows, and the large wooden wardrobe as well. The walls were papered in pleasant stripes of cream and sandy gold, and there were pink-shaded gaslights in the shape of flowers set into the four walls. The door near the wardrobe led into the tiny washroom, while the only other one led out into the hall.

Twist took a deep breath and cleared the lingering ghost of the chilly, dark, attic room from his mind. He wasn’t that little boy anymore. He’d moved on. There was a sudden knock at the door that had a distinctly metallic note to it. Twist was on his feet in an instant, pulling open the door with a relieved smile.

“Myra, darling, it’s wonderful to see you,” he said with a happy sigh as he moved back to let her enter.

“It’s lovely to see you, too,” she said brightly, stepping inside. “Oh, your room is nice, as well!”

“It’s all right,” Twist remarked lightly. He observed her quietly while she looked around at his cabin, and he marveled at how much sunlight her simple presence had brought into the room.

“Ara’s and my room looks just like this one,” Myra was saying. “Only, we have two beds.”

Twist stepped closer to her. He felt he should ask for permission of some kind or say something to explain himself, but no words came to him. All he knew was that he suddenly needed to touch her. She was facing away from him, peering out the porthole windows. Twist’s hands slipped over the soft folds of the sari at her waist, and his lips fell gently to her shoulder. His Sight warmed instantly as he closed his eyes, filling his mind with softly sparkling sunlight that was edged with a subtle shade of concern.

Myra turned in his hands and draped her arms around his neck. “Are you all right, my dear?” she asked him softly, her face showing him the concern he’d already felt.

“Yes,” he answered instantly, and then frowned. “Well, no. I don’t know…”

Myra gave a sympathetic tone and stroked the edge of his face with a cool metal hand. He took it in his own and placed a kiss on her palm. Myra’s emotions instantly warmed more deeply.

“I’m just so glad that I still have you,” Twist said, giving her a smile. “I couldn’t bear it if you were to vanish without a trace. I’d crumble into dust.”

“Well, there’s no reason to worry about that,” Myra said, smiling at him now while her delight burned dazzling his Sight. “I’m not going anywhere. Especially not if you keep saying such lovely things to me.”

“Then I shall have to read more poetry,” Twist said, feigning a serious air.

Myra laughed, pulling away from him to take his hand. “Come along,” she said, still smiling. “Ara is saving a spot for us on the starboard deck.”

“Why?”

“We’re going to watch the ship launch,” Myra said excitedly.

“But we’re on the ship,” Twist observed, holding back his smile. “We can’t very well watch it launch unless we get off first.”

“You know what I mean,” Myra said, frowning. “Let’s go wave good-bye to London.”

“Oh, I see…” Twist played up his understanding. “So you actually want to watch
London
launch, then.”

“Oh you!” Myra huffed, looking quite annoyed, while Twist felt ripples of amusement waft to him through her touch. “Come on, there isn’t much time left.”

Myra took Twist to the deck above by an elegant, wide, red-carpeted stairway that curled up through the center of the ship. The crowds out on the large, open deck were dense and excited. Twist pulled closer to Myra out of habit, trying to watch for sudden movements in the crowd. Once again, the space where Jonas should have been was hard to ignore.

“Over here!” Arabel’s voice called from the railing.

Twist and Myra hurried to meet her. Twist clung to the smooth, steel railing, pulling as far out of the crowd as he could. To his relief, Myra hung close to him, standing at his back to peer out at the city beyond over his shoulder. It was only then that Twist actually noticed what he was looking at.

Sooty, dim, gray London stretched out to the horizon, cut down the middle by the winding, murky Thames. The rain drizzled down around the balloon above them, falling in a sheet of larger drops just beyond the open deck. There were people on the docks below: waving, smiling, blowing kisses, and yelling good-byes. While many of the others on the deck with them waved back to the loved ones they were leaving behind, Twist and his companions only watched. There was no one in the crowd for them.

Twist felt relieved when the ship threw off her moorings and began to climb up into the dusty clouds. The weight of the ship kept it very steady even as it met the wind, but the unmistakable sense of rising sent a spark of freedom flashing through Twist’s heart. In moments, the clouds crashed down on the open deck, bathing everyone in thick, chilly fog. Just as quickly, the sky broke into pure, vibrant blue above the sea of blinding-white clouds. The sun blazed in the perfect sky, the sunlight shone warm in the frigid chill of the thin, high atmosphere. The
Aeolus
popped out of the mist and seemed to settle on the smooth cloud tops—the bow cutting the clouds like a wake—and sailed on quickly towards the north.

“Oh it’s so nice to see the sun again!” Myra said, clapping her metal hands. Twist smiled at her, but her expression changed quickly. “Oh, I mean, not that there was anything wrong with the weather in London,” she said very quickly.

Arabel laughed. “Are you being serious?” she asked, aghast.

“I like London,” Myra said sternly.

“It’s all right,” Twist said on the edge of a laugh. “I’m not feeling all that patriotic about the place at the moment.”

“Really?” Myra asked earnestly.

“I like it much better up here,” he said, watching the sun glint off her copper skin.

“Well,” Arabel said, watching as the crowd thinned out behind them, “looks like it’s time for the first buffet.”

“Oh, I wonder what they’ll serve,” Myra said excitedly as they followed after the crowd. “I hope they have rabbit. Twist likes rabbit,” she said quickly to Arabel.

“Right, because you don’t…” Arabel began, looking at Myra hesitantly. “Do you eat?”

“Not anymore,” Myra answered with a sigh. “No stomach,” she added in a whisper.

“Myra just likes to feed me,” Twist offered.

Myra nodded quickly.

Arabel shook her head. “I just hope there’s trifle.”