Clockwork Twist : Dreamer (16 page)

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Authors: Emily Thompson

BOOK: Clockwork Twist : Dreamer
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As soon as Ted and Steve found that they were in a city that they knew, and were no longer in immediate danger of being killed, they bid the others goodbye and disappeared, heading for the air-porter's office at the docks.  Tasha said that she needed to tell Aden what had happened as soon as possible, in case Idris's memory magic on Loki wasn't enough to ensure their safety.  The other Cyphers could still remember all of them being led into the room in which their leader would be found badly injured.

“We should try to stay out of sight for the moment,” Tasha advised. “Just in case.  I don't think we should go to the next theater that Aden set up for us yet, until we know what's happening.”

As no one had a reason to protest, they decided to all go with Tasha into the city.  She took them past the tall, modern buildings, along the wide boulevards, and eventually down a narrow alley not far from the bank of a long river.  She knocked at an unmarked door and waited.  Twist looked around at the loose trash in the alley and thought he heard a cat cry out in surprise somewhere around a corner.

The door opened and a strikingly attractive young lady, wearing a purple sateen dress with a turquoise-feathered bonnet nestled on her black curls, looked out.  Twist was so fascinated by her unique features—at once looking like girls he'd seen in Asia, and also completely western—that he didn't notice the silver pistol in her purple-gloved hand. “Password?” she asked pleasantly.

“What is it, February?” Tasha muttered to Niko.  He nodded. “Peggotty's lost another button,” Tasha said calmly to the woman with the gun.

“Welcome to Hudson's,” the lady in purple said, lowering her weapon and opening the door wide.

Tasha and Niko stepped through first, and began to climb a tightly curving metal staircase up to what appeared to be the third floor.  Twist followed them and was amazed to find what looked like a cafe at the top of the stairs.  The wide room was showered in sunlight from the large, half-dome windows that filled three walls, and there were tables and chairs set up in cozy little nooks in a forest of potted plants and huge silver bird cages.  People sat here and there in small groups or alone, puffing on tall glass pipes of the sort Twist had seen Idris enjoy.

Everything was silver, green, or muted in color, giving the room the appearance of a jungle, haunted by wafts of sweet-smelling, softly-colored smoke.  It took Twist a moment to realize that each of the bird cages contained large, black, birds: they looked very much like rooks to him.  A man with a tightly curling mustache on his lip and a white apron hanging from his waist met them at the stairs.

“How many?” he asked.

Tasha glanced back over her companions and answered.  The waiter nodded and glanced around the room.  He then turned to her with a smile and asked her to follow him.  He took them to two round tables set against a window and half hidden by a wall of bird cages and green ferns.  There was a silver lantern on each table, but there was little need for them in the sunlight.  Everyone but Tasha took a place—Twist, Jonas, Myra, and Storm at one table, while Niko, Idris, and Jeffrey took the other—and Tasha ordered coffee for everyone.  She glanced at Storm and Myra, and amended the order to six coffees and one hot cocoa.  The waiter nodded with a smile and then left, disappearing into the smoke and ferns.  Tasha looked to the others.

“They have a mirror station set up in the back room,” she said, nodding at the only wall in the room that wasn't filled with windows. “I'll go speak with Aden.  We're all perfectly safe here.  This is a Rook safe house,” she added to everyone but Niko. “Enjoy your coffees and relax.  I'll be back in a few minutes.”

Jonas laughed softly as she walked away, leaning back in his chair and looking around. “Who would have ever thought I'd be safe in a Rook safe house...”

“Pirate,” Niko spat, almost playfully.

“Magpie,” Jonas shot back.  Niko rolled his eyes.

Jonas caught sight of a clock that hung between two windows, and nudged Twist.  Without needed explanation, Twist drew his watch out and handed it to Jonas.  Storm jerked when he did so, looking Twist in the eyes as if he hadn't realized he was there at all.  Jonas finished re-setting the time and handed the watch back to Twist.  The moment it was in his hands again, Storm's eyes lost their hold on Twist.  The boy sighed and looked away.  Then he saw Jeffrey.  The monkey was nibbling at the edges of his straw hat to smooth out the rim.  Storm leaned a little closer and gave him a smile.

“Hello, Jeffrey,” he said hopefully.

“Good afternoon,” Jeffrey responded with a slight nod.  He put his hat back on his head.

“Are there many bananas in Aruba?” Storm asked.

“Millions, my boy, millions,” Jeffrey said luxuriously. “And different varieties as well.  Have you ever heard of a plantain?” he asked, leaning forward and putting his tiny clasped hands on the tabletop.

“No, I haven't,” Storm said, sounding as if he wanted to know more.  His face was awash with wonder and delight as he spoke with the talking monkey about tropical fruit.  Twist wondered if this was something Storm had always wanted to do.

Jonas leaned closer to Twist. “So, what are we going to do with the kid?”

Twist gave a shrug as he watched Storm and Jeffrey get deeply entrenched in their conversation.  Myra and Niko were watching them as well.  Idris looked through the bars of the bird cage behind him at the other patrons of the cafe.

“Sure, we rescued him,” Jonas said. “But what do we do with him now?”

“Why can't he just stay with us?” Myra asked softly.

Jonas looked at her seriously. “Because he's a child.  And weird.”

“Wait, what are you talking about?” Storm asked suddenly, holding a cup of cocoa now.

The waiter had returned with the drinks and was placing them on the tables before them.  Jeffrey gave him a thankful nod and dropped a lump of sugar into his coffee cup, stirring with the little spoon.  The waiter only stared at him for a moment before smiling back and moving on.  Twist wondered how often he saw this sort of thing, in a place like this.

“We're talking about where we should put you, bright-eyes,” Jonas said, slipping his goggles back on and then looking at Storm through the opaque black lenses.

Storm's face washed over with fear.  He set his cocoa down. “You're gonna leave me?” he asked, his voice cold. “Why?  Where?  What did I do?”

“It's all right, Storm,” Myra said, petting his back.

“Jon, can't I stay with you?” he said Jonas quickly.

“Do I look like a babysitter?” Jonas asked flippantly. “Besides, you'll need to get back to your mother somehow.  I'll bet she'll be terribly worried when she finds out you're missing.”

Storm's gaze drifted down unhappily. “But she's with the Cyphers...  I can't go back,” he said softly, rubbing at his own wrists. “You saw what that drug does.  It strips the person away from the Sight, so that they can be used like a tool.  It's horrible,” he said, looking up to them pleadingly. “My Sight goes crazy when they give it to me.  There's so much—” His quick words stopped suddenly and he swallowed nervously. “It really hurts.  And I can't stop.”

Myra made a soothing tone and gave his shoulder a supportive squeeze.  No one else said anything.  Twist looked at Jonas, noting the rampant reluctance he felt pulsing through the buzz in his neck.

“If Mom helps them to find me, they'll do it all again,” Storm said, seeming to find a little more strength.

“Your mother isn't stupid,” Jonas said. “She won't put you in danger.”

“She did when she took me out of school,” Storm muttered darkly. “I was fine there.”

“What about the Rooks?” Twist asked. “Surely Aden will have a plan for him.”

“Oh, sure, Aden's such a sweetheart,” Jonas said. “I'd trust him with a helpless child.”

“I'm ten and a half,” Storm said firmly. “I'm not a little kid.”

Idris laughed to himself, inviting a glare from Storm. “I'm nearly eight and a half thousand years old by your calendar,” he said smoothly. “You should be proud to be so young.”

“Well then,” Jonas said, “what would you do with him, oh wise and ancient one?”

“I said I was old,” Idris said, waving a finger. “I never said anything about wise.  Besides, I'm a convict.  You don't want my advice.”

“But I can help you two,” Storm said, gesturing to Twist's chair and to Jonas. “I know stuff.  I can help you find out why your Sights don't work on each other: why you're linked together so strongly.”  His words made Twist's skin crawl, and he felt a coldness ripple down his spine, emanating from the buzz at his neck as the words flew out of the boy. ”Twist reaches into your soul all the time,” Storm said to Jonas far too casually, “and you can feel it.  I'd be scared too—”

“Storm, shut the hell up,” Jonas snapped, his voice as cold and sharp as a blade.  Storm winced against it and dropped his gaze fearfully to his cocoa.

Twist looked up to find Jonas already pulling his goggles off to look back at him.  Jonas's eyes were a stony gray, but glowing brightly all the same.  Twist saw an undefended, curious, and white-hot fear in his eyes that echoed his own thoughts.  Twist hadn't considered all of the implied ends of Storm's unnatural knowledge.  What if the boy was right?  What would they learn about each other with his help?  What would they learn about themselves?  Would they
want
to know?  Could they turn away from a chance to know?  Twist looked away with an uneasy sigh.  He found everyone else staring at him and Jonas in a somewhat disturbed way.

“What?” he asked.  They all looked away.

“Look, I don't see the future,” Storm said carefully, “but I see everything else in dreams.  I'm not useless.  I can do a lot to help you.  And now we're finally together.  But if you send me away...”  He shook his head, looking like he might break into tears if he got any more wound up.

Myra looked to Twist pleadingly.  Niko scowled at his coffee.  Idris and Jeffrey both sighed heavily and shared a sorrowful glance.  The reluctance in Twist's neck was getting tight enough to be almost painful.  Twist turned to Jonas again and took his hand.  The wave of white fog receded in his mind, as always.  Jonas looked back at Twist, his eyes turning a deep purple in Twist's Sight.  There was a very subtle shift in Twist's mind, a clarity as thin as winter sunlight, and Twist knew the connection was in place.

The reluctance that had wandered around in his Sight before was now clear enough to speak for itself.  They had helped Storm as they had promised to, but his mother would be concerned to find that her son had disappeared.  It could be a while before they could be safely reunited.  If he wasn't with them, he'd be alone with the Rooks and a powerful Sight.  Still, the life Twist and his companions usually led was anything but sedate.  Twist could feel the uneasiness at the edge of Jonas's feeling on the matter: he wasn't thrilled about even sharing his honest sympathy for Storm with Twist.

The same truths seemed perfectly clear in Twist's own thoughts as well, and he opened them for Jonas to see.  Maybe they could find a good place for Storm later, or even find a way to get him back to his mother.  But right now, it seemed cruel to leave him alone.  He was so distressed at the thought of leaving them.  Twist also couldn't help but feel that Storm would be safer with them, if the Cyphers were going to be hunting him.  The Rooks were a large organization.  Something as small as an unattached little boy could easily fall through the cracks.

Somewhere out in the rest of the world, Twist barely noticed a voice ask, “Are they … talking to each other?”  Someone else said, “I think so...”

Jonas gave a sigh, both inside his thoughts and out in the real world.  There was nothing for it.  The only thing they could do was keep the boy with them, at least until a better situation presented itself.  He had fallen into their care.  They had to do their best by him.

Jonas nodded and looked away, breaking the high, thin, subtle contact first.  Twist took his hand back and waited a moment for the fog to disperse and the world to realign itself in his awareness.  When he looked up, everyone at the table was watching him and Jonas—except for Storm, who was only watching Jonas.

Idris spoke first. “Did you two just have a moment?  Or was that some kind of very weird and silent debate?”

“The second one,” Jonas said flatly, putting his goggles back on.

“What did you come up with?” Storm asked, speaking as if he was trying to sound impartial.  The eagerness in his eyes blew the act to bits.

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