Clockwork Twist : Waking (21 page)

“Yeah, I just...” Jonas said, blinking his eyes but not looking back yet. “I got something for a second.” He glanced up again with a gentle, pale lavender in his eyes, and a light grin on his face. “Are you angry with me right now?” he asked curiously.

“You have simply brilliant deductive skills,” Twist spat. “Let go of me,” he said, pulling uselessly at Jonas's solid grip.

“Come on, try it,” Jonas said, only letting go of Twist's wrist to take both of his hands instead.  The new touch made Twist pause. “Please?  Just for a second.”

Twist glared at him, desperate to keep his mind focused on anything but Jonas's hands.  His curiosity screamed at him in bitter frustration, desperate to open his Sight.  Twist's thoughts turned to his Sight for only a moment, and his attention dove heedlessly into the soft warmth of Jonas's skin against his own.  A vast whiteness, limitless as the sea and bright as the sun, crept into his mind to color every corner of it, but he didn't lose himself in it as he had before.  Instead, he thought that he could begin to feel the blood pulsing through Jonas's skin, and he sensed the beating of the other man's heart: quick, excited, and fiercely hopeful.

Sudden and unexpected as a lightning strike from the empty blue sky around them, a new though came to him.  After a lifetime of distance from every other living being, Twist was holding someone else's hands.  Unlike holding Myra in those beautiful dreams, the man before him now was wholly alive.  The shock of the concept was enough to bring his awareness back to himself, and to let him realize that those thoughts hadn't been his alone.  He pulled sharply without warning and freed his hands to the cool air.  The feelings of hope and excitement broke like the thin, colorful film of a soap bubble.

“Did you get anything?” Jonas asked, his bright blue eyes gleaming in the over bright sunlight of the higher atmosphere.

“Emotions,” Twist said, nodding. “Nothing else.”

“So, what then?” Jonas asked, no longer even attempting to hide the excitement from his voice as he spoke very quickly. “We broke our Sights?  I haven't tried to use mine since we woke up in Hong Kong.  Have you?  I wonder if we'll respond like this to everyone.”

“No, my Sight still works like it always did,” Twist said, jumping into the conversation when Jonas took a breath. “I touched my watch and didn't notice anything strange.”

“But that's a thing.  It's not alive,” Jonas said thoughtfully. “One of us should try using our Sight on a person.”

“Have fun,” Twist said with a forced smile. “I'm not testing myself on any of them,” he said, gesturing to the figures that still moved on the deck behind them.

Jonas took a breath in through his teeth, with a nervous expression. “Good point.”

The ravenous, electric tension of their discovery began to fade once they had found the limits of their new personal borders.  Even when Jonas wasn't actually touching him, though, Twist still felt a ghost of his touch on his skin like indelible fingerprints—as if Jonas had left a mark on him that no one else could see.  The feeling was so new to him that Twist was left off balance in the deepest level of his spirit.

Glancing over the side of the deck, Twist found even more reason to feel lost in the sky.  Pure white, puffy clouds surrounded them as the airship sailed out of the dusty mist that sat low over Hong Kong harbor, and up into the endless blue sky.  He saw nothing but open ocean below them, all the way out to the horizon; where the deep blue of the sea melted into the pale blue haze at the edge of the sky.  Twist felt the speed of the airship's flight in his bones.  The sun beat down heavily on his back and stung at his eyes with all of its considerable might.  He felt the enormous girth of the Earth far below him and the endless sky above.  He felt his own fragile form surrounded and saturated by things so much larger than he was.

And it felt just like free fall.

Once the airship was sailing at a comfortable altitude, swaying gently on the gusts that rose off the sea, Quay left the wheel to guide Twist down into the cargo hold.  There, in the dim, low-ceilinged belly of the ship, lay Myra's clockwork puppet in relatively the same condition it had been in when Twist last saw it.  The limbs lay at its sides in gleaming perfection, while the body sat half open and still bearing the signs of damage and time on its skin.  There was a simple cloth underneath it, making a sort of bed out of the rugged looking wooden crates.  Her dark maroon wire hair hung like a waterfall off the side of the crate, still untangled and gleaming gently.  Twist found his own tools in a disordered pile with the last free parts of the puppet that he hadn't yet replaced, but the crystal was absent.

Looking down at the still, cold, metal body, Twist saw only a shadow of the enchanting princess who he'd seen in his dreams.  Without her ghost looking on from the empty shadows in the cargo hold, without the palace crumbling into memory around it, the puppet looked much less like her.

When his fingers fell lightly on the metal above the puppet's exposed navel, his mind filled once again with damage and memories.  Being a dancer, the delicate workings inside the body were vastly complex to give better flexibility to the thin, interlocking sheets of metal that made up the skin.  The violent tumble that had broken the crystal had tangled and dislodged much of the fine inner workings.

“I assume you'll be all right?” Quay asked. “Is everything there?”

Twist jerked at the sound of his voice and looked to him quickly, having forgotten totally about the man's presence.  Jonas stood beside him as well, looking at the puppet quietly with uncovered eyes that seemed to glow much more brightly in the dim light.

“Yes,” Twist said. “I have everything I need.”

“Good,” Quay said with a smile. “Come along, Jonas,” he said, turning.

“I'll stay, thanks,” Jonas said, not moving.

“No, you'll come with me,” Quay said.  Both Jonas and Twist looked to him curiously.

“No, you'll leave me the hell alone,” Jonas said back quietly.

A flicker of something dark and silent moved through the pirate's eyes. “Your friend is doing his part,” he said, gesturing to Twist. “It's your turn to do the same.  I need you to come look at some things.”

“We're already on a job, here,” Jonas said, nodding at the clockwork puppet. “How many treasures do you plan to chase after at once?”

Quay looked to Twist. “Do you need his help to finish the repairs?”

“Not, exactly...” Twist toned slowly.  Jonas seemed to ready a response, but Quay cut him off.

“Twist is not going anywhere,” Quay said. “You can see him again in a little while.  And obsession isn't attractive, you know.”

“I'm not obsessed!” Jonas snapped instantly.

“Oh?” Quay asked back, his voice still soft. “Did I touch a raw nerve, there?”

“I'll touch your raw nerve,” Jonas hissed.

“This is childish,” Quay said with a sigh. “You're not nearly as stupid as you're acting.  If you want to fight me, then just say so.  I'd be more than happy to resume our sparring matches.  As I recall, you were getting quite good with a sword.  But just now, I need your help.”

Twist watched silently as the pirate's words slowly broke down Jonas's defenses until his was left with nothing but a vaguely bitter curve to his mouth.

“Now, we should leave you to get to work,” Quay said to Twist. “Come along, Jonas,” he said, turning to the stairs.

While Twist watched, Jonas and Quay both disappeared up the stairs.  At the last moment, Twist saw a note of frustration on Jonas's face.  Now alone in the dim, quiet, cargo hold, Twist turned back to the puppet and resumed his work.

After a long day of diligent work in the cluttered and dim cargo hold of the pirate airship, Twist returned to the bow on the open deck as the sun began to finally slip into the western ocean.  His fingers were sore from overwork, his neck was stiff no matter how he tried to stretch it loose, and his mind felt numb from so many hours of using his exhausted Sight.  Without Aazzi or Arabel to pull him away for moments of rest, or the constant presence of Myra watching him from the shadows, the already intricate work had only grown even more tedious.  Twist now realized that Jonas also hadn't returned to him, even once.

Twist crossed his arms and leaned heavily on the high railing at the bow of the airship, watching the gleaming, white capped, sapphire sea pass below the burnt-orange dying sky, and tried to work out just how far he was away from home.

“You finally got a break?” Jonas asked, walking up beside him.  Lost in his thoughts, Twist hadn’t noticed him approach, and so jerk slightly at the sound of his voice, turning to look over his shoulder.  Unexpectedly, a touch of bitterness wafted into Twist's thoughts, finally seeing him again.

“I’m almost done, so I’ll leave it for tonight,” he sighed, looking back to the sea when Jonas came to stand at his side.

“Almost done?” Jonas asked lightly. “So, might you be finished tomorrow, then?”

Twist gave a shrug.  His thoughts shifted to the gnawing pang of bitterness that seemed to build slowly in the pit of his stomach.  Maybe it wasn't bitterness after all, but some other uncomfortable sensation...  A cold breeze wafted up over the deck, sending a soft chill down his neck and he shook his head to release the tension of it.  Somehow, the feeling seemed strange to him as well.

“Well, they say we’ll be over the islands by midday tomorrow,” Jonas said, turning to look at Twist and lean his side against the rail. “I’m sure you can complete the puppet in time.”

“It hardly seems to matter anymore,” Twist said softly, “now that the princess isn’t there to watch me.  I got rather used to her, you know.”

“You got used to a ghost?” Jonas asked, with a tone to his voice. “You’re a morbid one, you know that?” Something in his voice sounded odd enough to catch Twist’s drifting attention, like a tiny snag on silk. “Is that why you want to keep that puppet for yourself?” Jonas asked curiously. “Is it because you like having a dead girl around?”

Twist looked up at Jonas silently.  Jonas didn’t flinch even for the merest moment when their eyes met.  The slightly taunting smile on his face faded as Twist watched.

“Well, whatever,” Jonas said, turning away to look over the side of the railing. “But if you’ve got a plan to steal it away from these pirates when it’s done, don’t forget to include me.” He looked back to Twist with a knowing light in his clear green eyes and a slight curl on his lips. “We’re friends, right?” he asked leadingly.

In a single flashing moment, Twist realized that the usual warmth of Jonas’s presence was missing from the back of his neck.  He reached up to rub at his neck, but his chilled fingers gave him a shiver.

“You all right?” Jonas asked.

“I’m cold,” Twist breathed, pushing gently at the space where the warmth should have been.  Just as in Hong Kong, he found the buzzing sensation buried deep in the back of his mind.  It felt as if Jonas was a fair distance away from him, and not standing just beside him.

Jonas gave a small, mirthless laugh. “Then go inside,” he said unkindly.  Twist’s eyes snapped to his quickly but, search as he might, he could find no sign of a glow or shifting color within them.

“Vane?” Twist breathed hesitantly.

“What?” Jonas asked lightly, though a flicker rushed through his eyes for an instant.

Twist turned back to lean on the railing and scooted himself a foot away. “Go away.”

“Ah, come on,” the man who looked like Jonas said with a sigh. “Are you going into another mood on me?”

“Stop looking like Jonas, and leave me alone,” Twist said, not looking at him.

“Huh,” Jonas’s voice remarked. “How’d you know?” Vane’s voice asked as he stepped closer to Twist, now back in the first form Twist had seen him wear. “Did you see my tail?”

“No, and I’m not telling you how I knew,” Twist said.

“Why not?” Vane asked, falling into a noisy whine.

“I’m not going to just give you something you could use against me,” Twist snapped, shooting him a nasty look.

“You’d be surprised how many people do,” Vane said with a wicked smile.

“Isn’t there someone else you could go and bother?” Twist asked, dropping his forehead against his crossed arms on the railing. “I'm tired.  Leave me alone.”

“But I like bothering you,” Vane whispered into his ear from only a breath away.

Anger burned through Twist so quickly—hot and electric like fire racing up his spine—that it stole a breath from him.  He spun a step away from Vane and pulled back a fist before he realized what he was doing.  His shock managed to stop him, and he held still while Vane’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“You have teeth?” Vane asked brightly, grinning now. “I had no idea.”

“Leave him the hell alone!” Jonas’s real voice bellowed from farther up the deck.  He rushed in to stand between Vane and Twist. “What’s wrong with you?” he snarled, reaching out to shove Vane back a step—his black goggles were firmly in place over his eyes, but his aim was still perfect.

“We were only talking!” Vane spat back, re-taking the step to come nose to nose with Jonas. “What’s wrong with
you
?  Afraid I’d steal your boyfriend?”

Jonas’s fist came back quickly, but Twist could almost feel it move before he saw the motion, and he reached out just as quickly to catch Jonas's arm.  The same warm wave crashed over Twist again when he touched him, and once again fell away harmlessly.  In its wake, however, Twist realized that the rage he’d felt a moment ago hadn’t been his own at all.

“Stop,” Twist said, smooth and solid, when Jonas turned to him in the jerk against his sudden grip. “He’s just an idiot, and I’d much rather you weren’t handcuffed to anything again.”

Jonas’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing.  He swung his arm down sharply, freeing it before turning back to Vane. “Bugger off,” he snapped, nodding off of the side.

Vane gave an impressed whistle. “He’s got you wrapped right round his little finger, doesn’t he?” Vane purred slickly with a dark smile.

“One more word out of you and you’ll wake up tomorrow morning missing something furry,” Jonas said back with a dark smile of his own.

“There a problem, boys?” Cybele yelled to them from where she stood near a trap door to the lower deck, with a rather large rifle lying lazily across her wide shoulder.

“No,” Vane said with a suddenly pleasant lilt. “Nothing at all.”

“Has she got a gun?” Jonas asked very quietly.

“The big one,” Vane responded just as quietly.

“We were just having a chat about this fine weather,” Jonas called to her brightly.

“Play nicely together or I’ll have to separate you two,” Cybele said flatly. “As a matter of fact, Vane, come help me with the supper,” she added, heading down into the lower deck.

“Oh, do I have to?” Vane whined, though he moved immediately to follow her.

“And I thought that the
Vimana
crew was odd,” Twist said, watching them both disappear under the deck.

“I really hate that guy,” Jonas said.  He then looked to Twist. “I'm sorry I didn't come back to visit you.  Quay had me busy the whole day.”  To Twist's surprise, the tiny ghost of bitterness in his heart melted away on Jonas's words.

Twist gave him a light smile. “You shouldn’t let Vane get to you,” he said. “He’s just doing things to get you all worked up.”

“I know,” Jonas said, turning to lean his back against the railing with a heavy sigh. “You know, I really didn’t realize how much I don’t like these people until I got away from them for a few days,” he said thoughtfully. “Not that life on the
Vimana
was any better, mind.”

“There’s got to be somewhere you could be happy,” Twist said, frowning to himself as he tried to think of one.  As large as the world seemed to be, now that he’d seen so much of it, he couldn’t believe that there wasn’t somewhere in it for Jonas.

Jonas put on a smile and slipped his goggles down, letting them hang around his neck as he looked up to the sky through the rigging. “The only place I really like is up there,” he said, waving a hand generally at the new stars in the darkest part of the sky.

“You want to live in outer space?” Twist asked, looking after his gesture.

“Not too bright, plenty of open space, and no one alive to deal with,” Jonas said as if these things described absolute perfection.

“I thought you wanted to be closer to people,” Twist said, watching the starts appear, one at a time in the deepest part of the blue. “I thought you hated being cut off by your Sight.”  Jonas’s gaze fell to him with a warm weight and a subtle electric unrest that poured down his spine.  Twist turned to find a new coldness in his now pale green eyes.

“Says who?”

“Says you,” Twist said back, watching him curiously. “You look into me now, every time our eyes meet.  Did you think it was only one way?”  Jonas looked down and shifted on the rail as if it were suddenly uncomfortable.

“Has anyone ever told you that you can be a little too direct from time to time?” Jonas asked, handling each word carefully.

“I don’t usually talk to people,” Twist said with a shrug as he returned to the rail himself, leaning on it to watch the horizon boil into red and gold as the sun began to sink below the waves.  The sea had turned black with shadows, under the last gilded waves of sunset.

“So, you're never...” Jonas began to ask, but his words fell away.  Twist guessed the rest of his question, but waited for him to finish it.  Jonas turned to look over the side with him. “I mean, in London, didn't you have friends there?” he said instead.

“No,” Twist answered easily. “I have customers that came back sometimes if they have more than one broken clock.  Some days I might see people in the market who I've seen before.  But I try not to go out if I can stay in.  I usually try to stay away from people.”

“And that minor contact is all you want?”

“Sure,” Twist said, looking to him curiously. “No one ever believes me when I say this, but I'm really not lonely.  I like the quiet.”

Jonas made a thoughtful sound, his eyes shifting from pale teal to a mossy green as he looked back at Twist.

“See, you wouldn't be happy alone, after all,” Twist said, smiling lightly. “You think I'm strange for saying that I was?”

“Oh you're strange,” Jonas said quickly. “I already knew that.” Twist shook his head and looked away. “The only time I've ever seen passion in you was when you were talking about a machine, after all.”

“You've got your stars, and I've got my clocks,” Twist said to the open air.

Jonas made no more remark after that point, but simply stood beside him, lost in his thoughts while Twist strolled listlessly through his own.  As the last rays of daylight fell from the sky, with a flash of brilliantly golden light at the horizon, Twist found that his heart felt calmer in that moment than it had in ages.  His fears fell from his tired mind as it rested on more pleasant ground.  Though the air was turning cold in front of the night, the warmth at his neck was enough to keep him comfortably warm.

In his relaxed state, a strange thought came to him suddenly.  For the briefest instant, he wondered what it might be like to move close enough to Jonas to feel the warmth of his skin again.  The concept startled him enough to bring him back to his senses, but left him wondering where it had come from.  As he struggled to make sense of it, he failed to notice Jonas move.

Jonas's hand rested on Twist's back as he stepped closer to Twist, bringing a pocket of warmer air with him.  Twist held totally still under the touch, unsure how else to respond.  The gesture seems so casual on Jonas, meaningless and empty, as if he hardly noticed that he was doing it at all.

“It's getting cold,” Jonas said to him as he took in a calm breath. “Why don't we head down to the kitchen?  Cybele should be finished cooking soon anyway.”