Clockwork Twist : Trick (12 page)

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Authors: Emily Thompson

BOOK: Clockwork Twist : Trick
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The largest of the great pyramids drifted by the balcony, drawing Twist's full attention for a moment.  The rising sun slid behind the towering top of the enormous stones, making the structure appear to glow at the edges.  For the briefest instant Twist's numbed mind paused to marvel.  He realized that he'd gotten accustomed to seeing foreign things everywhere he looked.  Some of the details and deeper meaning of what he saw was beginning to get lost in the chaos.  But for a moment, he remembered where he was.  He was in Egypt, watching an ancient and famous image pass by.

Hector had somehow gotten onto the subject of English politics.  Twist's mind snapped back quickly.  He gave a silent sigh and focused on his food again.  By the time everyone had finished their breakfast, Hector seemed to run out of things to say about politics.

“Well, that was lovely,” Tasha said, patting at her lips with her napkin.

“Yes, not too bad,” Hector said.  He then took a deep breath and glanced around at the view beyond the balcony, and then at his guests. “Well, if you're all finished, it looks like the restaurant is just about to touch down again.  Shall we be off?”

“Yes, let's,” Tasha said, edging her chair out.

Hector rose instantly and held her chair out of her way, and then offered her his arm.

 

 

 

“Come on, we've got a few minutes,” Jonas said as he dragged Twist quickly by the wrist along the compact sand. “You've got to try it.”

“But Hector said they would be leaving soon,” Myra said, hurrying to keep up with them.

“Yeah, and Niko said that meant at least an hour,” Jonas said back.

“I don't understand,” Twist said, struggling to keep his footing as they continued to dash into the desert. “What exactly do you want me to touch?”

“That!” Jonas said, pointing at the closest of the three enormous pyramids nestled in the golden desert sand in front of them.

Other people strolled by them, all heading to the pyramids as well.  Jonas dragged Twist closer until they left the shade of the floating restaurant that had still been hanging above them.  The heat of late morning fell on Twist like a physical weight and the warm, dry wind now carried no comfort.  Undaunted, Jonas continued on into the sand.

In moments, they were surrounded by nothing but gleaming gold and dusty blue.  Twist pulled his blue-tinted goggles up from around his neck to cover his eyes against the glare.  The city had shrunk behind the building dunes long before Jonas finally slowed his pace at the feet of the closest of the great pyramids.  Twist stopped and paused to catch his breath from their flight while Jonas stared up at the towering height of the stone before them with wonder in his eyes.

“Come on, you've got to try touching it,” Jonas said to him. “How often do you get a chance to touch something this ancient?”

“You dragged me all the way out here to touch a pile of stones?” Twist asked, frowning at him.  Myra turned to Twist in apparent shock.

“A pile of stones?” Jonas echoed, aghast. “What's wrong with you?  This is the oldest thing in the world!” he said with a wave to the pyramid. “It's one of the wonders of the world.  People travel all the way around the globe just to see it.  Thousands of people died just to build it!”  Myra nodded along with all that he said, looking earnestly to Twist.

“All right, all right,” Twist said, putting his hands up in surrender. “I'll touch the 'very old' pile of stones then, if it will make you stop.”

“Damn straight,” Jonas muttered, crossing his arms and watching to make sure that Twist did as promised.  Myra did exactly the same, standing beside him.

Twist shook his head and walked forward into the shadow of the pyramid, thankful for the shade, and reached out to lay one hand on the jagged, stepped surface of the ancient stone monument.  At first, his Sight didn't react at all.  His fingers only registered the rough, sand-torn stone and the gentle coolness of the shade, still left over from the night's chill.  Then he pushed a little harder, closing his eyes and stretching his Sight to pick up anything hidden beneath the surface.

After a silent moment he started to feel cooler.  Within his Sight, an image of the pyramid before him filled his mind as the sun slowly fell backwards, down to the eastern horizon.  He saw the stars turn in the night, spinning faster and faster as the sun rose again from the opposite side of the sky.  It arced quickly over him to set again before the stars went spinning once more.  The stars blurred into streaks and circles across the sky while the sun flashed over him faster and faster until he felt the earth itself turn under his feet with the unbelievable and still-growing speed.

Shadows of human forms wandered around, some climbing and others only moving by, until armies appeared around him, fought, and vanished at extreme speed as well.  Twist felt the city behind him shrink slowly away, and the sands moved in a constant whirl like the waves of the sea.  Stars flashed sometimes, filling the moments of night with bright light.  Comets streaked backwards across the sky.  Slowest of all, the pyramid itself grew more and more smooth and clean as time fell off of it under his fingers.  And then, suddenly, it was brand new.

Everything stopped and Twist looked around inside his own vision to see a huge crowd of people all around him—each man wearing only rough cloth and sandals, with black hair and dark amber skin—all cheering uproariously in the sunlight.  A single man with a gold headdress and staff stood before them all on a stage surrounded by potted palms, near to where Twist was standing.  He shouted something to them in a language that Twist couldn't understand, though the meaning came through his Sight just fine.  Twist shivered with shock as he realized that he was looking upon the face of a king who had lived and died thousands of years before his own country had even existed.  The shock was enough to break the vision and Twist staggered back a few steps as he gasped in a breath of the present-day air.

“Are you all right?” Jonas asked, appearing at his side with a grin.

“That … it was … I saw...” Twist stammered, unable to hold a single thought long enough to voice it.

“Just take a breath,” Jonas said. “Take your time.”

“Time, yeah...” Twist muttered, rubbing at his eyes. “I saw time.  All of it.  It all went rushing backwards like a clock running the wrong way until … the very beginning.”

“What do you mean, the beginning?” Jonas asked slowly.

“I see damage,” Twist said, finally getting to the beginning of his own thoughts. “Whatever I touch, except for you, shows me damage, and what caused it.  But, this...” he said, looking at the pyramid, now worn, jagged, and wrecked by age, “time itself wore those stones down.”  A wide delighted grin spread slowly across Jonas's face while Myra took on a look of awe as the same thought slowly formed in each of their minds.

“Did you see ancient Egyptians?” Myra asked
excitedly.

Twist nodded slowly.

“Your Sight is completely awesome,” Jonas said smoothly to him. “I mean, I'd thought you might catch a glimpse of Napoleon or something, but you went all the way back!”

“Right, there were a couple of wars or something too,” Twist said thoughtfully. “They went by really fast.  I didn't get a good look.”

“Oh I'm sure,” Jonas said easily, still smiling broadly, “you had to get back a couple thousand years in a few seconds.  Who's got time for crazy little Frenchmen?”  Although Myra didn't seem to understand the reference, Twist laughed before he could stop himself.

“You do realize,” he then said to Jonas, pushing back his own mirth to put on a more serious tone, “that like Myra, I'm a person.  I'm not a toy.  I'm a little disturbed that you might be confused about that fact.”

“Actually, I'm pretty sure she's more of a person than you are,” Jonas answered instantly with a nod to Myra.  He looked to her confused expression with a smile. “You just watch.  Someday we'll find out that he's made of clockwork too.  The difference is, you actually remember being human and having fun.”

“Clockwork has its own fun!” Twist said, feeling quite offended, though he wasn't entirely sure for which reason. “You just don't understand it.”

“Sure...” Jonas said with as little conviction as humanly possible.  Myra giggled softly behind her hand.

Twist gave a sigh and shook his head.  When he did, his gaze fell to the base of the pyramid again.  Now he only had to look at the cracks and chips in the surface to see the presence of time as clearly as he saw the rocks themselves: like a stain painted ages deep.

“So, are you glad you touched the old pile of stones?” Jonas asked.

“Actually, I am...” Twist said, finding a smile on his face.

“Oh!  Do we have time to get to the Sphinx?” Jonas asked suddenly. “You could tell us who shot its nose off!”

“Wasn't that Napoleon again?” Twist asked.  Myra frowned at the mention of the name.

“Ah, but you see, I heard it was Alexander the Great,” Jonas said, shaking a finger as he stepped closer to Twist. “Do you feel like solving an age old mystery?”

“Who are you two talking about?” Myra asked, moving closer too. “Who's a crazy Frenchman?  Who is this Alexander and what did he do to become so great?”  Jonas and Twist both turned to stare at her, but Jonas's face showed only admiration.

“I feel like the most cultured of scholars around you two,” Jonas said softly. “You never know where we are,” he said to Twist, “and you've never heard of Alexander the Great,” he said to Myra. “I hope we can stay together forever.”

Twist took what compliment he could from that and pulled out his pocket watch to check the time.  He once again realized that it was set horribly off whatever time zone they were in, but he ignored this when he voiced fears about meeting Hector and Tasha on time.  Although Jonas seemed disappointed about not unraveling the mysteries of the Sphinx that day, he was in high spirits once again by the time they got to the Cairo airship docks.

 

 

 

“Welcome aboard the
Gray Lady
,” Hector said proudly as he stepped onto the deck of his admittedly impressive, private flying yacht.

A single, enormous, red and purple striped balloon towered over the body of the small but opulent airship: two floors in the shape of a square London townhouse, complete with a white shingled roof and spotless white trim ringing the emerald painted walls and the square, lead-lined windows.  A gold railing ran along the edge of the porch-like covered deck that ran around the bottom of the first floor, above a windowless half-basement of black wood that formed the base of the airship.  There were yellow roses in the window boxes and bright ivy climbed up the white columns at the four corners of the veranda.

Sitting as it was, flat and steady on an open space of the airship docks, with pyramids, palms, and desert as a backdrop, Twist thought it was the most absurd thing he'd ever seen.  Stepping onto the porch and in through the front door, he was even more confused to find a parlor beyond the wooden coat racks in the entry way.

It looked for all the world like the inside of a very comfortable London home, and not an airship at all.  There was the usual set of velvet padded furniture with gleaming and artfully carved hard wood; cream-colored, very soft carpeting; textured wall paper with what looked like oak trim; stuffed animal heads and other hunting trophies hanging on the walls; a white-and-peach marble table in the center of the nestled furniture; and an ornate fireplace at the back of the room.  There was also a clock in a gold-and-glass cage with nymphs playing around its base that Twist instantly recognized as an expensive Austrian design that was currently in fashion in London.

“What a strange room,” Myra whispered to him softly as she looked around.

“It certainly is,” he answered.

“This is an airship, right?” Jonas whispered to Twist as he joined him too. “I mean, it's not just an English house with a balloon on it, is it?”

“This is what an English house is like?” Myra asked, still whispering.  Twist and Jonas looked at her suspiciously. “Well, is it?  I've never seen one.”

“Yes,” Jonas answered. “Just take the balloon off.”

“Oh...” Myra said thoughtfully, looking around again as if seeing wallpaper and carpeting for the first time in her life. “It's nice.”

“Oh, is that one new?” Tasha asked Hector, pointing to the stuffed and glass eyed face of a small deer with long, thin, twisting horns as she walked past to take a seat on one of the velvet chairs.

“Oh yes!” he said, looking to it himself. “Good of you to notice.  I shot that little beauty last month.  Very fast little devil.  They bound about in grasslands like dolphins in the sea.”

“How delightful,” Tasha said politely.

“Sir, please forgive my intrusion,” said a new voice with a very crisp British accent.  Twist turned to see a tall man in gray trousers, a black tailed jacket, and a very stiff looking white collar.  He had thin gray hair and there were deep lines around his passive expression. “But if you are ready to take off, I shall make the arrangements,” he said, glancing at Twist, Jonas, and Myra out of the corner of his heavily lined eyes.

“Thank you Gregory,” Hector said with a nod. “And have some tea brought in for our guests, if you would.”

“Right away, sir,” Gregory said with a bow before turning sharply on his heel and disappearing into the hall.

As he stared after the curious person, Twist caught a glimpse of Niko out in the hall as well.  Niko's face took on a smile and he nodded, following after Gregory without a moment's hesitation.  An instant later, a young English girl in a black dress with a long white apron entered the room with a curtsy.

“May I take the guest's luggage?” she asked
softly.

“Thank you, Agnes,” Hector said, not looking at her as he took a seat across from Tasha.

She came closer to Twist and Jonas but stopped in her tracks when she saw Myra.  She stared wide-eyed, looking over her clockwork body slowly.  Myra smiled stiffly and waved at her coyly.  Jonas took Twist's bag off his shoulder—much to Twist's momentary awkward confusion—as he moved behind him and met Agnes with a smile slightly obscured by his goggles.

“Let me help you,” Jonas said pleasantly, taking a comfortable grip of Twist's bag in one hand, and his own in another.

“Oh!” Agnes said, shocked out of her wonder over Myra. “You don't have to, sir,”

“I want to,” Jonas said brightly. “Which way to our rooms?” he asked, already looking off toward the hallway.

For a moment, Twist felt strange watching him leave.  Jonas made no indication of needing his aid and disappeared without a word to him.  So, Twist and Myra quietly took a seat together on a velvet couch and found that Hector was already talking again about British politics.  Twist was distracted from listening by a bump in the floorboards, followed instantly by the unmistakable sense of rising.

Looking out the nearest window Twist saw the airships and docks around them sink from his view as the ship rose silently into the warm air.  In a few moments, there was nothing but open, dusty blue to be seen out of every window in the house.  A bird with a white body and wings, and with a long black head, neck, and feet, appeared at one of the windows.  It seemed to look at the airship with a curious expression as it slid slowly backwards at a slightly slower pace, and caught Twist's gaze as if asking an explanation for the strange sight of a brightly colored London townhouse in the skies over Cairo.  Twist could only laugh quietly to himself, finding that he had no response whatsoever for the bird's perfectly rational questions.  Jonas reappeared shortly after Gregory arrived with a silver tea tray.

“We are cruising in a pleasantly moving, northerly breeze, sir,” Gregory said as he served Jonas tea as well, in a cup of white china painted with pink roses. “We shall be over the Mediterranean Sea in an hour, and will continue on towards Turkey from there.”

“Oh yes,” Hector said. “We will be making a stop in Constantinople.  See to the details, would you Gregory?”

“Of course, sir,” Gregory said with a nod. “When would you like to take lunch, sir?”

“Oh, I'd say noon would be good,” Hector said, glancing at the clock over the fireplace.

“Yes sir,” Gregory said with another nod.  Hector sent him away with a wave of his hand.

“So, tell me,” Hector said, looking now to Twist and Jonas, “what do you think of my civilized mode of travel?”

“Oh, it's quite comfortable,” Jonas said, stirring sugar into his tea.

Seeing him do this, Myra looked to Twist's tea cup, then at the sugar bowl, and then back.  Twist caught her gaze and shook his head with a smile.  He picked up his cup and took a sip, just to be sure that she didn't add anything to it.  Myra looked slightly disappointed but didn't touch the sugar.

“It is, isn't it?” Hector said to Jonas as he looked around his parlor admiringly. “I don't see the point of those other airships that follow the sailing design.  There's no reason to make a ship into a home when you can make a home into a ship, after all.”

“No reason at all,” Jonas said certainly.  Twist felt the slightest tremor in the background hum at the base of his neck.  It took him a moment to realize Jonas was having some difficulty making that lie look convincing.

Hector, however, didn't seem to notice anything amiss and began to talk about all the benefits of traveling in a flying house.  As he spoke, both Tasha and Jonas gave every indication of agreement.  It wasn't long, however, before Twist began to feel a tension rippling uncomfortably in the buzzing at his neck.  When Hector mentioned that he could use a walk around the deck outside, Jonas was the first one to his feet and out of the room.  Twist took his time leaving and held Myra back with a gentle pat on her arm, just to be sure that Hector and Tasha didn't follow him as he went looking for Jonas.

Twist followed the buzzing in his neck to find Jonas around the back of the house, leaning heavily on the gold railing with his head bowed and uncovered eyes closed.  Myra ran to the railing and looked out over the golden dunes that glided by slowly, so far below.  Twist stayed back and looked at Jonas as he focused on the feeling in his neck: looking for the tension he'd felt before.  Jonas smiled and then turned, as if in response, opening his eyes on Twist.

“Can I ask you for a favor?” he asked, sounding more hesitant that Twist was used to hearing him.

“Aren't we past that sort of formality?” Twist asked.

“That man is going to talk me into insanity,” Jonas said, stepping closer to Twist. “I just need to relax for a minute, before I lose it.  You can help with that.”

Twist didn't quite follow him until Jonas reached out and laid both hands on Twist's shoulders, looking directly into his eyes.  The usual wave of chilly, calm white fog washed over Twist's Sight at the touch, and stilled him completely.  He stared back into Jonas's eyes—watching as they shifted into a deep, rich, glowing purple in his Sight—and began to wonder if Jonas's Sight gave him the same peaceful, clean, blinding white calm when he turned his eyes onto Twist's.  It was only a moment before Twist could follow the blood pulsing through Jonas's hands all of the way into the steady beat of his heart.  His own calm soon began to echo in the other man's, and it became difficult to distinguish whose emotions were truly whose.

“Thanks,” Jonas said, dropping his gaze and his hands with a heavy sigh.  The connection broke like a soap bubble, leaving Twist feeling numb at the edges.

“Do you see a fog?” Twist asked.

“Fog?”  Jonas glancing back to him with clear, sea green eyes.

“When you look at me like that,” Twist said. “Does your Sight blur over with a chilly white fog?”

“I don't think of it as fog,” Jonas said. “It's more of a light.  And it’s not chilly, it’s warm.  But it sort of goes away after a second, hanging at the background.”

“That's curious,” Twist muttered.

“You two are both curious,” Myra said.  They turned to find her staring at them from her place at the railing, looking at them with an odd expression.

“It's a Sight thing,” Jonas said to her with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“And ours act strangely together,” Twist added.

“You know,” Jonas said, turning back to him, “it would be good to figure out what that's all about.  I mean, that business about exploding when we first met was pretty unsettling.”

“And now it's the opposite reaction,” Twist said, nodding. “Have you ever heard of anything like this?”

“Never,” Jonas said, shaking his head.

“Neither have I,” Twist said with a thoughtful pause.

“I haven't either,” Myra added. “I'm trying to stay in the conversation,” she said when Jonas and Twist looked to her.

Twist smiled and held out a hand to her, which she took instantly.  Jonas took her other hand once she was close, drawing her eyes to him and sending a ripple of her mild surprise through Twist's Sight.

“Don't worry, Myra,” Jonas said to her. “Every other thought Twist has is about you.”

Twist looked at him suspiciously.  Not even when he could feel Jonas's emotions as clearly as his own, could he actually see a single clear thought that belonged to the other man.

“Really?” Myra asked Jonas excitedly.

“It's actually kind of annoying,” Jonas said, nodding.

“Don't tell me you're jealous,” she cooed, a gleefully wicked grin on her copper face. Twist felt a sudden surge of delight from her.

“Jealous?” Jonas asked back, incredulous. “It's boring, is all.”

“Oh you!” she gasped, freeing her hand from his to bat at him angrily.  Jonas laughed as he guarded himself against her attack.  Although Myra continued to glare at him, Twist could see that the delight that she'd felt originally hadn't diminished at all.  He frowned in confusion.  Nothing he'd ever read in novels could help to explain this bizarre phenomenon to him.

 

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