Clockwork Twist : Dreamer (21 page)

Twist watched the
Vimana
glide over the small islands nestled in the amber waters of the Caribbean, at sunset.  Since it was possible to run into Quay in a French port, they had decided to visit Santiago instead.  It was a bustling, once-Spanish city, on the lower arm of the largest island in the seas below.  It was surrounded by dense jungle on one side, and well-fortified seaports on the other.  Jonas named the glowing points of light on the other islands as they went by.

“There's Tortuga in Haiti.  Fantastic bars there ... And over there, that's Jamaica.  It's been under English rule forever.  Too stuffy for me …  Havana is up that way...”

As Twist listened to the names of the various ports and islands, he grew more and more nervous.  Each place Jonas mentioned reminded him of old pirate stories.  His mind's eye filled each island with unscrupulous, treasure-hungry cutthroats and braggarts who would as soon kill a stranger as have another drink.

“What's going on with you?” Jonas asked as the ship began to descend into the cannon-ringed, fortress-like port outside Santiago. “Why are you so nervous?”

“I don't like pirates,” Twist muttered stiffly.

“I'm a pirate,” Jonas pointed out.

“You're … an exception.”

“Oh Twist, you'll make me blush...”

Twist shot him a glare. “I don't think I want to visit the port.  I'll just stay on the ship.”

“Twist,” Jonas said, very seriously, stepping in front of him to capture his full attention. “This is Santiago.  This is Cuba.  Do you know what's illegal here?”

“What?” Twist asked cautiously.

Jonas leaned closer with a wicked gleam in his cobalt-blue eyes. “Nothing.”

“Enjoy your evening,” Twist said with a tight smile. “I'm going to find out if Mr. Fogg is able to get through Suez on time or not.”

“You are not reading a book tonight,” Jonas said with certainty.

“I went out with you in Berlin when you had that same treacherous gleam in your eye,” Twist said, pointing accusingly at him. “My head hurt for two days.”

“I can't believe that was really your first hangover,” Jonas said with a warm smile.

“First and last, thank you very much,” Twist said, crossing his arms.

“Well, there're other things to do, here,” Jonas said thoughtfully. “There's … wait, no, you wouldn't be able to touch any of the girls.”

Twist stared at him in shock. “Did you just almost suggest what I think you almost suggested?”

“What?  Believe me, this is the place for it.”

“My God, you really are a brigand!” Twist said, shaking his head disdainfully. “A gentleman doesn't even joke about such things.”

“Oh, don't be so stuffy.”

“Right,” Twist said with finality. “Good night.”

He turned to walk away, but found Arabel standing just behind him.  He started to a stop before her and stared at the dangerous smile on her face.  Her sea-green eyes looked nearly as wicked as Jonas's had a moment ago. “Having another Venice moment?” she asked.

“Venice moment?” Twist asked.

“When you tried to stay on the ship and read a book while we were in Venice at carnival,” she clarified.

“Ah.”  Twist paused to calculate his next move.  If he wasn't careful, he could find himself in peril in an instant. “Not at all.”

“Liar,” Jonas said, still standing behind him.

“I'm staying on the ship to spite Jonas for being an uncouth and brazen scoundrel.”

Jonas laughed. “Where do you come up with those?  I swear, you sling the best-worded insults.”

“I read, sir,” Twist spat over his shoulder.

“Lover's quarrels aside,” Arabel said with a dismissive flick of her hand, while Twist bristled angrily and narrowed his eyes at her, “you may not be here again anytime soon, and Santiago is legendary for its entertainments.”

“I have entertainment, thank you,” Twist said.

“Tell you what,” Jonas said, leaning around him to speak to Arabel, “his Sight doesn't work if he's unconscious.  I'll knock him out if you help me carry him ashore.”

Twist spun to him with wounded shock.

“That sounds good,” Arabel said, smiling at her brother.

“Twist!  There you are!” Myra called happily as she hurried closer.  She rushed to the railing and looked out at the torch-lit airship docks: wooden jetties hanging out over the jungle from the old stone fortress walls. “Oh, I can't wait to see this place!” she said brightly to him. “The others have been telling me such colorful and exciting stories about it.”

Twist looked at her with bitter betrayal glowing in his chilly blue eyes. “Even you?”

“What?” she asked, looking confused and slightly worried. “Is everything all right?”

“Just fine,” Jonas said, tossing an arm casually around Twist's neck. “He's ready to explore.  He wouldn't want to disappoint you,” he added, grinning at Twist.  Twist glared back at him, his annoyance strong enough to keep Jonas's fog and smug delight at bay.

“I hate you.”

“I'm going to make you have fun if it kills me,” Jonas said smoothly.

Twist hung his head, finally surrendering to his fate.

When Jonas insisted they escape Moroni's guard, worried that he might take his job too seriously and insist they remain in safe parts of the city, Twist's spirits dropped even further.  Jonas kept close to Twist as they walked over the jetty and onto the old stone walls, as if afraid that he might try to run back to the ship.  Myra took Twist's arm and walked beside him in complete wonder and delight as they stepped through the stone gates of the fortress and out into the city streets, while Arabel followed along beside them.  Noise, color, torchlight, and ink-black shadows swallowed them all instantly.

It appeared to Twist as if the city was in the middle of a riot and enjoying it immensely.  Men and women alike spilled in and out of taverns: laughing, shouting, and singing along to rolling peals of ancient sailing songs on drunken tongues.  Gunfire sounded occasionally in the distance, but no one seemed to take notice.  Fights broke out and calmed with no semblance of order that Twist could detect.  Horses and coaches filled the muddy streets and didn't appear terribly concerned with running into anyone.  For the first few steps, Twist clung to Myra fearfully and did all he could to simply witness the world around him.  Her obvious delight at all the excitement couldn't break down his own wall of fear.

“Come on, this way,” Jonas yelled over the din, gesturing them to a waiting coach.

“This place is fantastic!” Myra said with glee as she and Twist hurried to meet Jonas. “There's so much going on!”

“Yeah, it's almost as much fun as Rio,” Arabel said brightly to her.

They climbed into the coach—which struck Twist's senses instantly with the strong scent of stale beer—and it set off immediately.  Twist leaned back into the shadows of the rollicking box to catch his breath.  Myra and Arabel leaned out a window to watch as the noise and chaos continued on outside.  Jonas smiled broadly at Twist, sitting across from him, near the other open window.

“Having fun yet?” he asked Twist.

“I'm not sure you know how that word is supposed to be used,” Twist shot back. “Fun things are supposed to be at least slightly enjoyable.  This place is mad!  It's a crime against society!  Not even Venice was this...” He groped in the air for a word that could possibly suit the cacophony around him.

Jonas leaned forward as the coach stopped for a moment in traffic, the light from a torch outside lighting his wicked smile. “Between the two of us, I claim the better understanding of the word 'fun'.”

Twist primed a comeback, but another voice intruded on them before he could speak.  A woman with long, curling black hair that hung loose over her bare shoulders and the decidedly low neckline of her dress, let out a wave of bubbling laughter as she fell against the coach and caught her balance with her arm through the window.  Her face was flushed a brilliant red as it stopped a breath away from Jonas's.

“Oh!  Sorry, beautiful,” she said happily to Jonas, catching his eyes for the merest instant in his shock before he snapped them closed.  Clearly not noticing, she smiled at him widely, reached out a bare hand to catch him behind the neck, and then pressed a kiss on his lips before he had an instant to protest or even comment. “No hard feelings!” she said, laughing again as she pulled herself back to her feet and out of the coach window.

The coach started to move again and the woman disappeared into the fray.  Myra, Arabel, and Twist stared at Jonas in naked shock.  He wiped at the edge of his lip with a thumb and leaned back in his seat, grinning ear to ear.

“God, I love the Caribbean,” he toned smoothly.

Twist scooted himself a little farther away from the window.

“Don't worry, you'll like this place,” Jonas assured Twist once the coach stopped in a slightly quieter part of the city.

They couldn't hear gunshots anymore, and fewer people were fighting now, but most everything else remained the same.  They had stopped outside of a tall iron gate set into a long, high, stone wall.  There appeared to be a forest inside, lit with flickering firelight and filled with the distant sounds of music.  There was also a man standing just inside the closed gate.  He was nearly as tall as the gate itself, and appeared to be more of a mountain than a man, with very small eyes above a thick and bushy golden beard.  He had shoulders wide enough to build a house on, and hands as big as frying pans.

“Hello, Thor,” Jonas said to him. “How've you been?”

“Do I know you?” asked Thor with a deep, thunderous voice and an accent that reminded Twist of Vikings he'd read about.

“Sure you do,” Jonas said. “I came here last time with that guy with the gold eyes.”

Thor's miniscule eyes widened in shock, or possibly fright.  It was hard for Twist to tell with such small specimens. “Is he here?” Thor asked, his voice very nearly soft.

“Not at the moment,” Jonas said casually. “But I'd have to call him, of course, if my friends and I had trouble getting in tonight.”

The gate creaked loudly as Thor opened it and stepped aside. “Have a good evening, sir.”

“Thanks, we will,” Jonas said, striding through the gates as Twist, Myra, and Arabel followed after him closely.

“What was all that about?” Twist asked, following the shadowy, winding path through the dense jungle around them.

“Vane and I wanted to get in here last time Quay came to Santiago,” Jonas said. “But it's invitation only and Thor, back there, wouldn't budge.  So, we wished he'd spend the night as a mouse down by the sea docks.  That place is crawling with cats.”

“I wish I knew a djinn,” Arabel muttered.

“But, wait.  Idris really granted that wish?” Twist asked.

“He had a great time watching Thor scurry around, getting hunted by tabbies.”

As Twist struggled to imagine such a gigantic person in the form of a mouse, the path before them widened out.  There was a large, three-story, European-style house hidden in the center of the contained jungle, and each of the many windows seemed to be glowing a different, vibrant, color.  Twist instantly thought of an Edgar Allan Poe story he'd read once, and just as quickly wished he hadn't.  Music poured out into the darkened garden, on sparkling waves of conversation and laughter.  There was a young woman sitting on the marble steps outside, bathed in the emerald-green light that spilled out of the enormous, open front door.

Twist squinted in the dim light.  She appeared to have very long, pointed ears at the edges of her shining golden curls, and her skin was sparkling from head to toe.  She also wasn't wearing very much in the way of clothing.  Her slender form was wrapped in shimmering cloth reminiscent of an ancient Greek style of dress, with bare arms; below the knees, her legs were also bare.  She glanced up from the small harp in her hands as they approached.  She looked them over and didn't seem impressed.

“You call those costumes?” she asked with a light French accent.

“I'm a sky pirate,” Jonas said with a shrug.

“Me too,” Arabel added. “Argg...”  Jonas half-turned to her with quiet disbelief.

“Right.  No one's ever done that before,” the fairy said dryly. “What are you then, an English gentleman?” she asked Twist with a snide tone.

“He's Phileas Fogg,” Jonas said dismissively.  Twist shot Jonas a suspicious look. “But have you seen this one?” Jonas asked, drawing Myra farther into the light.

The Greek fairy with the French accent looked suddenly quite impressed. “Is that all actually metal?” she asked slowly. “Or is it paint?”

“It's metal,” Myra said with a nod.  She tapped her own arm with a finger.  Her skin rang with a bright and decidedly metallic note.

“Amazing,” the fairy said with a smile. “Your friends have no imagination at all, but you will fit right in.  Welcome to the party!”

Twist's eyes were filled to the brim with emerald green as he and the others walked into the house.  The gaslights set on the walls, the candles on the tables, and the chandelier hanging over the two wing-like curving staircases in the entryway were all covered in emerald-green glass, bathing everything in the room in the same color.  Boughs of paper leaves hung over the doorways—each one leading into a different color—the windows, and the stairs, giving the space the look of an olive grove, while people in fantastic costumes gathered and wandered in high spirits.

A medieval knight chatted with a vicar and a she-devil in a tight dress and horns.  A pair of seventeenth-century gentlemen in frills, studded velvet coats, and enormous hats bowed deeply to a lady in a leopard fur coat, dress, boots, and matching leopard ears pinned in her hair, as they walked by.  A man in a turban, flowing robes, and curly, shiny shoes gave a glass of champagne to a gorilla wearing a bow tie.  A person in a full diving suit with heavy iron boots and a copper helmet accidentally bumped into a man in a toga wearing a long beard and holding a trident, who began to laugh when he turned to find that it was the diver who had walked into him.

“What is this place?” Arabel asked Jonas.  Her face was awash with wonder.

“The best party in the Caribbean,” Jonas said proudly. “They hold it every night, all year long.”

Myra clutched to Twist's arm, sending a shock of joy over his already overtaxed senses. “Do we ever have to leave?” she asked him urgently.

Jonas laughed. “Just wait until you see the other rooms.  Come on, let's go.”

Myra dragged Twist along quickly as Jonas led them all through the house, one room at a time.  There was a library, its walls lined with shelves of books, that was lit in a deep, watery blue with blown-glass fish and bubbles hanging on thin wire from the ceiling.  There was a purple room that had huge swaths of textured cloth covering the walls and falling in puddles on the floor around piles of cushions with a gleaming, golden lamp quietly smoking on a table in the center that no one seemed inclined to touch.  A pink-lit room was filled with silk flowers: they hung from vases on the walls, sat in bowls on tables, surrounded the doors and windows, and sprouted from the furry pink carpet on wire stems.

It was the golden room, however, that Twist liked most of all.  Where the walls weren't covered in clocks, large gears hung to fill in the space.  The furniture was made entirely of gleaming gears and cogs and padded with golden fabric.  The floor was covered in sheets of shining metal, and the chandelier that hung in the center of the room—which of course was made of gears as well, with a working clock looking down from the center of it—spun slowly with every tick and tock thanks to a complex mechanism that filled the ceiling with clockwork.

“Wow, it's your soul in the shape of a room,” Jonas said, smiling at the wonder on Twist's face.

“This is the best room in the universe,” Twist said, letting his eyes drift closed as he listened to the harmonious ticking of the room.  If there hadn't been the ghost of music playing nearby, and people in bizarre costumes walking in and out, it would have been abject perfection.

“Aren't you glad we got to explore this place?” Myra said, taking his hand and resting her chin on his shoulder.  Twist opened his eyes to her, feeling the warm pulse of her emotions playing along his skin.

“A bit,” he muttered softly.  Jonas laughed and shook his head.

“You're impossible.  Come on, let's check out the ballroom.  That's the only room in the house that changes.  They redecorate it on the first of every month.”

They followed him through the house as the music grew louder and the crowds got thicker.  Open double doors led them into a huge ballroom at the back of the house, which was covered completely in glowing white.  The high walls were crusted with what looked like shimmering ice, and the tall windows were frosted over almost completely.  The wide dance floor seemed to be made of white marble and was covered with a fine dusting of tiny, shimmering white fragments of paper that looked very much like snow.  There were icicles hanging from the chandeliers and the white-glowing gaslights.

Twist felt a chill and wondered if it was simply his imagination, or if the room was actually frozen somehow.  The costumed dancers tossed the snow gently with their feet as they glided over the floor, following the rhythm of a playful jig.  Myra watched the dancers excitedly for a moment, as if studying their steps.  Then she took Twist's hand and turned her gleeful face to him.  Twist felt a jolt of fright.

“I don't know this dance,” he said quickly. “Maybe Jonas would...”

“I don't know it either,” Jonas said, grinning at him. “And she'd much rather dance with you, I expect,” he said, looking to Myra.

“Come on, it looks easy,” Myra said, already pulling him closer to the dance floor.

“But—!” Twist gasped, his eyes watching the dancers slip by each other so very closely.  He dug his heels into the light paper snow out of pure desperation.

“Hang on a moment,” Jonas said to Myra.

Twist didn't pay him any attention at all until he felt a soft pressure against the base of his neck.  In an instant, Twist's vision went fully white, his heartbeat slowed, and his fears evaporated into the chilly air.  In the numb, senseless fog that the world had become, he heard Jonas's voice echo inside his own thoughts as he told Myra to take both of Twist's hands and think of how much fun it would be to dance with him.

The fog lifted gently.  Twist blinked to clear the image of Myra's smiling face before his eyes.  Her joy and anticipation pulsed up from his hands, rippling over his skin, and filling his heart to the brim.  He found he was smiling back to her and wondered vaguely why they weren't dancing yet.  Myra glanced away from him.

“Thank you!” she said brightly.

“No problem,” Jonas said from behind Twist. “Show the man a good time, will you?”

Myra shimmered with delight as she drew Twist into the dance.