Idris chuckled, looking to Myra. “And just think. Last time, you were afraid of the magpies. But this time, you spent a good amount of time gossiping with one on your talking necklace. How things change…”
Myra nodded, smiling. Twist also had to admit that the djinn had a point. Quite a lot in his life had changed since he’d last been to Paris. Not the least of which, the beautiful clockwork princess walking beside him was more than a traveling companion. She was now his future bride. Twist couldn’t stop himself smiling as they continued to stroll along the Seine.
Twist and his companions soon climbed a set of stone steps back up to street level. When they reached the top, they found a huge garden now running beside the river, with wide seas of soft green grass, long, crossing walkways of white sand, Grecian marble sculptures at every corner, orchard-like groves of gently rustling trees, and an abundance of colorful tulips in neat beds around a wide, circular pool in the center of the garden.
Arabel rushed toward the pool, where a small fleet of toy sailboats were ambling about on the still surface. Myra followed after her without hesitation, joining the French children who piloted the boats and seemed to welcome them in as their own. Idris and Jeffery took seats in two of the many simple metal chairs that were scattered about, beside the au pairs who chatted together under the shade of the trees at the edge of the clearing. Left alone by the others, Twist and Jonas stood beside a marble statue of a nymph as they watched Arabel and Myra play with the children.
“It’s hard to believe that those two are warriors,” Jonas mentioned with a musing smile. “I’ve seen both of them battle foes with the ferocity of tigers, and yet…” He gestured to them now, giggling and smiling as they played.
“I think that one of Myra’s most charming traits is her childlike nature,” Twist offered.
“Arabel’s never grown up completely, either,” Jonas said. “But I guess you’re right. It is sort of charming.” He glanced at Twist with eyes that seemed to glow blue with his contentment, even in the light of day. “And, I’d imagine, Myra would make a splendid mother one day. Don’t you?”
Twist looked back at him apprehensively. “Are you implying something?”
“Well, you’re engaged to her now, aren’t you? I already said that I wouldn’t let you settle down until I’m done adventuring. And I’m also not going to baby-sit until the scamp is old enough for me to teach it how to cheat at poker. But still, you’ve got the rest of your lives to think about. The question is there, whether anyone is asking it or not.”
“Why are you asking me about this at all?” Twist asked, hoping to avoid answering.
“Whether I like it or not, you’re a driving force in my life, Twist,” Jonas said with a sigh. “I’d like to know if you intend to do anything so drastic as to have a family, either in the near future or the distant. Do you think it’s something you might do?”
Twist frowned in thought. Of course, Jonas was right to worry. Were their situations reversed, Twist imagined that he would want to know Jonas’s plans, as well. And even if he and Myra couldn’t technically have their own child—Myra being a spirit in a clockwork puppet rather than a woman of flesh and blood—there was always the possibility of adopting a child. Remembering his own dreary early days in an orphanage, the thought of rescuing a child from that world seemed rather appealing. Twist shook his head as his thoughts ran off quickly into other issues.
“Even if Myra would make a good mother, I doubt I would make a very good father.”
“Why not?” Jonas asked, seeming surprised.
Twist looked at him levelly. “I would never be able to touch the child. What kind of a father is that? Besides, I never knew my own father nor had a family of any kind. I really have no idea what’s entailed. All I’d have to go on is what I’ve read in novels.”
Jonas looked back at him thoughtfully for a moment, clearly considering his points and whether or not he wanted to encourage Twist one way or the other. As he looked back at him, Twist suddenly saw the color of Jonas’s eyes shift sharply to the deepest purple. Jonas jerked with a gasp and then looked away from Twist with an expression of violent shock. Twist’s heart thundered with his own sudden fear.
“What?” Twist asked quickly, reaching out to lay a hand on Jonas’s arm. “What did you just see?” The edges of his mind filled with a chilly, startled, thick fog that followed the touch.
Jonas shook his head, snapping his eyes closed, but didn’t answer as he struggled to catch his suddenly short breath.
“Damn it, man, you have to tell me,” Twist pressed, struggling against his own nerves.
The last vision that Jonas had had was of Twist being attacked by dozens of vampires. Granted, Twist had survived the ordeal practically unscathed, but the prospect of another frightening moment in his future was unnerving, to say the least. He knew that Jonas’s visions of the future always came to be.
“Holy hell…” Jonas muttered. He glanced back at Twist for an instant, his now-yellow eyes full of unease. “I’m not sure you want me to tell you.”
“No, no, no,” Twist said, shaking his head. “You just saw something in my future, and it clearly frightened you. You cannot keep this to yourself, damn it. What’s going to happen?”
“It’s nothing bad, all right?” Jonas said, looking back at him hesitantly. “I didn’t see anyone die or get hurt, or anything like that. It’s just…”
Twist gave him a stern look when Jonas’s words trailed off. “Out with it, man. Whatever it is.”
Jonas gave an unhappy tone, rubbing at his face. “Damn it, you’d probably hate me if I didn’t tell you…” He looked back to Twist and took a steadying breath before he spoke again. “Twist, I think you’re going to meet your father.”
Twist’s mind stalled, slamming violently into the thought. His blood ran cold in his veins, and his thundering heart seemed about to burst with shock and dismay. Suddenly dizzy, and bewildered on far too many levels, for a moment all he could do what stare back at Jonas silently while every semblance of solid ground dissolved beneath his feet. Twist’s knees grew weak as well, causing him to spend some energy on remaining standing.
“I didn’t want to tell you,” Jonas muttered, looking pitifully apologetic. “Twist, I’m sorry. I know you weren’t expecting it. You’ll be calm when it happens, but…well, you aren’t going to look happy, exactly, either. I’m sorry,” he said again, miserably.
“What…? How…?” Twist stopped and closed his eyes, forcing his thoughts to calm and fall into some kind of order. “Are you sure of what you saw?” he asked Jonas, his voice hollow to his own ears.
Jonas looked back at him with worried, dull-yellow eyes. “I saw us—you, me, and Myra—all at a cafe somewhere European, like the one tonight, but the city doesn’t look like Paris. A man will walk by the table and stop, dropping whatever he’s carrying, and stare at you in astonishment. Then, you’ll stand up and look back at him and say, ‘Hello, Father.’ And before you ask, I didn’t recognize the place and have no idea when it will happen. You didn’t look much older, though. And I’ve never seen the man before. I don’t have a clue who he is.”
Twist struggled to absorb the information, but only one thought stood out in all of the chaos in his mind: He’d been an orphan his entire life. He had no father. How could he possibly meet a man who didn’t exist? Twist’s mind rebelled against the concept until it began to ache. He held his weary head in a hand and looked back to Jonas again.
“Are you sure it wasn’t just a priest or something?”
“He wasn’t dressed like a priest,” Jonas said, shaking his head slightly. “And…well, he has your nose. And curly hair like yours. His eyes are dark, though, and he’s not as pale as you are. The blue eyes and pale skin might be from your mother.”
Twist snapped his eyes shut. “Please, thinking about one parent is more than enough.”
“Sorry,” Jonas sighed. He reached out to put a hand on Twist’s shoulder, spilling a calmer, co
oler white fog into Twist’s Sight. “I know it’s a shock. But really, isn’t this a good thing? Your father is alive. And you’re going to meet him.”
Twist’s emotions boiled over with more chaos. He’d dreamed of meeting his parents when he was a boy, of being taken away to a home and a family, but he’d eventually had to convince himself that both of his parents must be dead. That way, at least he didn’t have to suffer the daily disappointment that they’d never come to take him back.
To find out now that his father was still alive—and therefore could have, and still hadn’t, ever, come for him—brought back all of the deeply buried torment of being unwanted by the man. Loving, protecting, and caring for one’s offspring was a natural, biological imperative to ensure the continuation of the species. How little value had Twist really had to be worthless to his own father? Twist shook his head as his frantic mind rejected these thoughts all together.
“I’d rather you’d told me you’d had a vision of seeing me almost die again.”
“I’m sorry,” Jonas said again, more softly.
Before Twist could bring himself to respond to his friend’s distress on his behalf, Myra hurried up to them with a brilliant smile, clearly excited to tell them something delightfully innocent. Her smile faded the moment she saw Twist’s expression, and she rushed to his side. “Darling, what’s the matter?” she asked him gently.
Twist couldn’t hold back his grimace at the thought of speaking to anyone about the matter—speaking of it would only make it feel more real—but Myra’s concern only grew with his silence.
“I had a vision,” Jonas said softly.
Myra gasped, looking to him in horror.
“It’s nothing bad!” Jonas said quickly. “No one is going to get hurt.”
“Then…?” Myra began, looking back to Twist’s black mood.
“It’s not something Twist was expecting,” Jonas said gently. “But I promise, it’ll all be fine. I can tell her for you, later, if that’s all right with you,” he offered to Twist.
Twist nodded gratefully. Myra would only worry more if she was kept away from the truth, but talking about it now sounded nothing but painful to Twist. It would be easiest if Jonas simply told her when Twist wasn’t around. Myra looked back to Twist sadly and reached out to wrap him in her metal arms.
“There, there, darling,” she said gently as her warm care washed over his Sight.
Twist closed his eyes and let himself melt into her soothing embrace, but the black thoughts still clawed at the edges of his thoughts. He simply had to put the matter out of his mind, rebury it into those dark places, or it would drive him mad. He focused all of his attention on her, savoring her touch. After a moment, her steady emotions managed to push his sharper ones away. When he pulled back from her, he felt much more stable.
“Don’t worry, dear,” Myra said sweetly to him with a smile. “Jonas says that it will be all right. He’s the one who sees the future. He should know.”
Twist smiled back to her as best he could, desperate to believe her.
Once night fell thick and heavy over the city, Twist and his companions decided to catch a cab and return to the Vimana. From the height of the airship docks before the gleaming, sugar-white Sacré Coeur Cathedral that was bathed in light, the view of the softly glowing city was simply breathtaking. Twist tried to enjoy it, but a dark shadow still lay over his thoughts.
Climbing up the short gangway between the docks and the airship’s open upper deck, Twist and his companions found Howell and Zayle chatting with Harman and Luca, all standing together in the center of the deck. As they moved to join them, they were told that Rosencrantz and Guildenstern had already said their good-byes and departed the ship. Philippe and Aazzi had turned in for the night.
Upon seeing them, Zayle waved and smiled proudly to Jonas. “Luca and Harman just gave me a pickpocketing lesson!” he announced.
“Oh, did they?” Jonas asked him brightly. “How much did you manage to steal on your first foray into petty crime?”
“I’ve got a few more francs than I did when we showed up,” he answered with a smug smile.
“I think he has real potential,” Luca added.
“Zayle,” Jonas began in a mockingly serious voice, “if it’s riches you’re after, you’re not going to find them hiding in people’s pockets. Real wealth comes from taking whole ships by surprise, out in the sky.”
“It’s a pretty big leap between pickpocketing and piracy,” Howell said darkly.
“You’d be surprised,” Idris said with a grin. “When we were on Quay’s crew together, Jonas could always pick out the fattest, most lightly armed ships in the sky. Tell me, Jonas, which do you prefer? Pickpocketing or piracy?”
Twist looked to him quietly, somewhat unnerved by the idea that Jonas used to actually prey on defenseless airships. Just calling himself a pirate was one thing.
Jonas put on a thoughtful face. “Out of those two, I prefer poker.”
“That wasn’t an option,” Idris said with a frown.
“You’re not the boss of me.”
Idris shook his head while Jeffery and Arabel both chuckled. “Never mind,” Idris said. “I’m going to bed. Are you tired, Jeffery?”
“I’m getting there,” Jeffery answered with a nod. “I’ll go with you. Goodnight, everyone.”
The others bid them goodnight as well, as the djinn and the baboon retired for the night.
“So, did you have a nice day?” Howell asked Twist and his companions.
“Yes, it was lovely,” Arabel answered brightly. “How was the play?”
“I think I should have gone with you,” Howell said with a chuckle. “My French isn’t what it used to be. But Philippe and his friends seemed to enjoy it.”
“You should have come pickpocketing with us,” Zayle said to him. “We had a great time in that bustling market, didn’t we?” he asked Luca, who agreed with a nod and proud smile.
Twist gave a silent sigh, wishing his friends had higher moral standards.
“Thanks, but I’ll stick with what I’m good at,” Howell said with a smile. “And is it just me, or is it getting chilly out here?”
As many of the others voiced their agreement, they all began to wander toward the opulent dining room under the quarterdeck. As they walked, Luca produced a deck of cards from his jacket pocket and proposed a game. As no one was particularly tired yet, they agreed to play a while before bed.
Although he usually would have enjoyed a friendly card game, Twist found that he felt too restless to focus on his cards. His mind seemed fogged and sluggish, as if it was working hard on far too many things. The fear of causing curiosity in the others wasn’t enough of a deterrent to keep him from excusing himself from the game after the first few rounds.
“Are you feeling all right, dear?” Myra asked worriedly as he stood from the table.
“Yes, yes, I’m fine,” Twist said quickly, putting on a smile.
Myra’s worry seemed to grow.
Jonas said his name, calling Twist’s attention. Twist caught his purple gaze and felt Jonas’s Sight press against his own awareness. Twist let him peer into his own thoughts and emotions, hoping that Jonas would understand that he simply needed solitude. Jonas looked away an instant later, gathering up the discarded cards to shuffle them.
“Have a good night, Twist,” he said casually. “Myra, you in?” he asked, beginning to deal.
Myra looked between them quickly, clearly unsure of what to do. Twist didn’t spare a moment, saying goodnight to all of them and turning to leave as quickly—but still calmly—as he could. To his great relief, Myra remained at the table with the others.
Twist climbed the stairs outside, up onto the quarterdeck, and looked out over the stern of the ship. He took a deep breath, savoring the soft quiet of the air above the city. Paris stretched out before him, all the way to the horizon, glimmering in gentle tones of amber and cool, blue moonlight. As much as he enjoyed the company of his fr
iends, Twist couldn’t deny that, sometimes, solitude was luxuriously sweet.
As his thoughts quieted naturally into silence, the distant murmurs at the back of his mind slowly began to surface. Just as he’d expected, thoughts of meeting his father came first to mind. How could he possibly make himself ready for such a meeting? Was he afraid to see his father, or angry? He certainly didn’t feel happy about the idea, but why didn’t he? Was he just too badly hurt that he’d been abandoned in the first place?
Twist took another long breath, letting it out in a sigh that felt deeply relaxing to him. Whatever his feelings, the meeting was going to occur. Jonas’s visions had never been wrong before. Nothing that Twist or anyone else could do would change the moment that was coming. Twist smiled, realizing that Jonas had seen him stand calm and proud on that day and greet his father without fear or anger in his voice.
He felt encouraged to know that he would gain that level of composure and calm when he needed it. Whatever might happen before that day, or after, Twist could be certain that he would at least meet the man with honor.
As Twist readied himself for sleep that night, his thoughts seemed to wash about aimlessly in his mind, like spent tea leaves at the bottom of a cold pot. In the morning, the Vimana would be leaving Paris to take him and the others to a gypsy camp, somewhere in a forgotten corner of northern France. The reason for the journey to the gypsies returned to Twist with a numb sense of apprehension. He could only hope that the procedure to remove the dragon’s blood from his skin would be swift and simple.
As if out of habit by now, he sat on the mattress on the floor, in his sleeping clothes, and wound his watch absently as Myra turned off the gaslights and locked the door. Clouds had drifted in over the city shortly before Twist and Myra had gone to bed, and the sky outside the porthole windows was dark and ruddy from the city glow.
Family Page 10
