Blood

by Emily Thompson

  “We should know if he did,” Harman added. “We’re going into battle, after all.”

  “He said nothing about any of you or about Aazzi,” Twist said. “I wouldn’t worry.”

  “But he did talk to you?” Luca asked, looking impressed. “Usually, he won’t talk to anyone when he runs off like that. But he will punch you square in the nose for asking.”

  “Your nose looks all right…” Harman said, looking at Twist.

  “Where are we, anyway?” Twist asked, reaching into his pocket for his copper globe. “We’ve been flying for ages.” He slid the skin of the globe apart, bringing the mote of lightning to life. It was now most of the way across the relatively thin passage between the eastern tip of Brazil and the westernmost point of the African coast. Twist glanced up to find the color of the sky growing richer as the afternoon neared twilight.

  “What’s that?” Luca asked, peering at the globe.

  “Wow…” Twist muttered, trying to gauge the distance they’d already covered today. “At this speed, we might be there before morning.”

  “Is it magic?” Luca asked, stepping closer to look at the globe.

  “No, it’s magnetism and clever trickery,” Twist said, closing the globe again to put it away. “A friend of mine makes magic tricks. It’s just one of his odd little contraptions.”

  “You should see the deck of cards he created,” Myra said brightly. “Our friend Tasha made them fly in the air in front of her, with nothing but a smile to charm them into action.”

  Twist’s memories dove back to the flying house that had carried them from Cairo to Constantinople and to the lovely magic show Tasha had put on just for them. As Myra recounted more of Tasha’s tricks, and the gypsies listened to her with amusement, Twist found himself following along at the edges of Myra’s stories.

  He recalled flying in a wooden bird over the Egyptian desert at sunrise. Jonas had insisted he touch the ancient pyramid, and Twist had seen a pharaoh in a vision of the past. Countless theaters in fascinating cities flitted through Twist’s thoughts as he remembered watching Myra dance before each of Tasha’s magic shows.

  With his mind filled with such memories, he found it ridiculous to think that he would meet his end as soon as Jonas had predicted. He had witnessed miracles almost daily since he’d left his dreary little London clock shop, and there were so many new wonders that he hadn’t yet seen. Surely, Jonas must be wrong.

  Jonas appeared after an hour or so of solitude, while Skye and Myra were chatting lightly together as they sat near Twist. Twist had spent a long, languid time watching the sky, only partially listening to the women as their conversation trailed on after their fickle whims. The gypsies had found their own place to wait out the rest of the trip, and Twist hadn’t seen them in some time.

  When the buzzing sensation at Twist’s neck grew noticeable and agitated in nature, Twist turned to find Jonas standing silently beside Skye with a troubled expression.

  “What’s up, honey?” Skye asked him, noticing him.

  “That mirror room on the other ship,” Jonas said, nodding at the Rook airship that flew in tandem with the pirate airship that they rode on. “Can it contact anyone, or just Aden?”

  The memory of watching Kazan pound his fist on the inside of the mirror, shattering it while he laughed maniacally, reappeared suddenly in Twist’s mind. He flinched at the uncomfortable thought and shook his head to clear it.

  “It can contact any other mirror room in the Rook network,” Skye answered Jonas. “Why? Do you want to talk to someone?”

  “That research station in Australia,” Jonas said, his expression taking on a hesitant shade while the buzzing at Twist’s neck grew anxious. “I know someone there. Would anyone mind if I used the mirror to talk to her for a moment?”

  Twist frowned, puzzled by the pronoun. He assumed that Jonas was talking about the Rook astronomical research station that he, Myra, and Skye had visited in their efforts to free Jonas from his dragon kidnappers in outer space. Twist only knew a few people who might be there, including Storm—the strange little boy with pink eyes who had other people’s dreams—his mother, Kima, and a handful of the Rooks Twist had met. Of all of them, Kima was the only woman whom Jonas could mean. Twist couldn’t imagine what Jonas might have to say to her. She wasn’t at all connected to recent events.

  “I don’t see why anyone would mind,” Skye answered, getting to her feet. “Here, I’ll get you connected,” she said, leading Jonas to the narrow gap between the two airships.

  Myra and Twist remained where they were, both watching silently as Skye called to the other ship to send a gangway to help them to cross.

  “Why does Jonas want to talk to Kima?” Myra asked Twist, looking to him.

  Twist smiled, seeing that she must have followed the same train of thought he’d had. “I can’t imagine,” he answered. “But who else could he mean?”

  “Maybe he actually wants to talk to Storm,” Myra offered. “After all, Storm can see anyone’s dream, not just Jonas’s. He mentioned once that he watches Arabel’s dreams from time to time. Maybe Jonas wants to ask him if he knows how Arabel and the others are getting on.”

  “That makes good sense,” Twist agreed, nodding. “But then, why did he say ‘her’?”

  “A slip of the tongue, perhaps?” Myra guessed.

  “Perhaps,” Twist replied, unconvinced.

  A tiny, strange, memory surfaced suddenly in Twist’s mind. While Jonas had been trapped in orbit, aboard the dragon’s spaceship, Twist’s consciousness had found its way into Jonas’s mind for a short while. Jonas hadn’t seemed at all aware of Twist’s presence at the time, but Twist had heard and seen everything Jonas had. Alone in the dark, his plans for escape thwarted and no help in sight, Jonas had reassured himself with a single, desperate thought.

  He’d spoken the words aloud to himself, surely thinking that no one would hear him. He’d spoken Kima’s name, promising himself that he would see her again. The certainty of his tone and the effect it had had on his calm, had made Twist suspect that Jonas must have had a vision of Kima in his future and was using the memory to reassure himself that, for the vision to come to pass, Jonas would have to return to Earth.

  When Skye returned to them alone, a few minutes later, Myra voiced Twist’s curiosity.

  “Who did he want to talk to?” Myra asked Skye.

  “Storm’s mother,” Skye answered, as if she’d been surprised by his choice. “Once she got to the mirror, she thought he was asking for Storm, but Jonas said he wasn’t. But before he said anything else, he asked me to leave them alone. I didn’t even think they were very close.” She looked to Twist quizzically. “Do you know what’s up, Twist?”

  “No idea,” Twist admitted with a sigh. “I don’t know all of his secrets.”

  “I’m sure he’ll tell us, if it’s anything to do with our mission,” Myra offered.

  “Yeah, he would,” Skye agreed, nodding.

  “Well, anyway,” Myra said lightly, turning to Skye. “You were just telling me about the lion tamer who couldn’t stop sneezing.”

  Skye laughed and nodded, while Twist looked at them sharply.

  “Right, poor Greg,” Skye said brightly to Myra. “So we were in Kansas, surrounded by all these farms, and Greg’s allergic to just about everything.”

  As Skye went on, telling Myra what seemed to be the second half of a tale of her childhood days in a traveling circus, Twist realized that he’d been ignoring everything they had said for the last little while, before Jonas had appeared. This time, Twist paid a bit more attention, chuckling along as Skye told of the unlucky lion tamer’s misfortunes.

  It was nearly a half an hour before Jonas returned from the Rook airship. When he did, he held out Skye’s pendant watch to her. Twist realized that she hadn’t been wearing it once she’d left Jonas to talk to Kima.

  “Thank you,” Jonas said, placing the watch and its long chain in her open hand.

  “Did sh
e tell you what you needed to know?” Skye asked him, hanging the watch around her neck.

  Jonas seemed confused by the question but snapped on a slight smile and nodded. “Oh, yeah, sure. It was nothing, really. But thanks.”

  Twist didn’t feel any particularly strong emotions in the buzzing at his neck now; Jonas appeared, if anything, more calm and at ease than he had before.

  “Glad I could help, sugar,” Skye said, watching him as if looking for leads as well.

  “I’ll be at the bow,” Jonas said, already turning to leave again.

  Twist and the two women let him go without complaint, but Skye turned to Twist the moment Jonas was out of earshot.

  “Your friend’s weird, Twist,” she said seriously.

  “Agreed,” Twist said with a nod.

  Myra gave a sigh, smiling softly. “But we love him anyway.”

  Twist smiled at her, finding no reason to correct her.

  Just as Twist had guessed, the two airships flew within sight of land after one o’clock that night, by Rio time, under the stark, blazing glare of a tall lighthouse. The city below was a bright sea of shimmering light against the darkness of the surrounding hills. As the airships quickly drifted closer to the harbor, Twist was startled by the sheer height of the lighthouse. It towered over the airships while they were still in flight, and its powerful beam swung slowly in a circle around it for what could easily be miles.

  Coming closer, Twist saw other airships tethered by their mooring ropes to the tower of the lighthouse, floating around it like shifting ghosts. In the darkness below the beam of light, he couldn’t make out much more than the general shape of most of them, and he could recognize the design of none. The two airships slowed as they slipped into adjoining empty spaces beside the lighthouse. It was only then that Twist saw the walkways that ringed the circular tower of the structure or the small doors that led inside it.

  As the lighthouse began to dominate the view, Jonas finally returned to the others. Twist glanced to him, noting that the buzz in his own neck was still chilled and dull. The others looked to Jonas when they noticed him, but none voiced any questions. Jonas made no offer of explanation for his absence or current state of mind, simply standing near Twist and gazing out at the city as it approached.

  “This place is amazingly bright, isn’t it?” Myra mentioned as the Rook aeronauts busied themselves with docking the ship.

  She looked out over the city of ornate, stately-looking buildings below, which were lit by countless points of pure white light, as bright as daylight. The lights hung across the wide streets in long lines, like glowing pearls on a string, while brighter lights perched atop tall posts at every corner.

  “It’s quite amazing,” Twist agreed. “I’ve never seen so much white light at nighttime.”

  He could only guess that the city’s brilliance was due to electrical light, rather than gas or candles. Where they found so much energy, however, was well beyond him.

  Twist and Myra followed Skye and the others along the gangplank and onto the walkway. A dark-skinned porter met them with a pleasant greeting in English. Jonas took Twist’s watch to reset it after he asked the porter for the correct time. Twist blinked against the bright glow that met him inside the lighthouse. It could have easily been midday in Hawaii inside the tall, narrow, white stone structure.

  “Why is this city so bright?” Twist asked, shielding his eyes until they adjusted. “It’s the middle of the night.”

  “There’s massive electricity generators at the edges of the city,” Jonas said as he and the others followed Skye down the slowly curving iron stairs that led to the flat bottom floor. “Haven’t you heard about Freetown?” he asked, glancing back at Twist. “It’s a wonder of our age.”

  “Perhaps those newspapers you were talking about aren’t such a bad idea after all,” Twist said with a sigh.

  Jonas shook his head, smiling. “I keep telling you…”

  When they reached the bottom of the stairs, they encountered a light crowd of haggard-looking travelers. Twist checked his watch again—now that Jonas had reset it—and was surprised to find it was already well past three in the morning. The sun would be rising in just a few hours.

  “I’ve got to take care of some Rook stuff,” Skye said to them. “I’ll meet you outside in the square, okay?”

  “Fine,” Jonas said, nodding.

  “Say, magpie?” Luca asked quickly, drawing a glare from Skye. “What exactly are you going to take care of?”

  “Nothing to do with any of you,” she said with a sigh. “Relax.”

  Luca looked at her bitterly, clearly showing that relaxation was the furthest thing from his mind.

  “Luca, it’s fine,” Jonas said to him softly. “Let’s just go wait outside.”

  Before the gypsies could protest farther, Jonas ushered them out through an arched doorway that led into a brightly lit, open square just outside of the lighthouse. Long lines of black cables suspended countless small glass bulbs that shone with their blazing white light, crisscrossing over the large open space. Despite the hour, there were a fair number of people strolling under the man-made stars. Most of the crowd was made up of people with dark complexions and very foreign-looking, colorful clothing, but Twist also saw more than a few pale-skinned people in European fashions.

  “Jonas?” Twist asked, drawing his attention. “Why are there so many Westerners here?”

  Harman gave Twist a confused glance.

  “This is a British colony,” Jonas answered. “We’re on the Gold Coast, after all.”

  “We are?” Twist asked in wonder. He could remember reading about the old African Gold Coast somewhere. He suddenly recalled how exotic and fantastic the place had seemed to him when he’d first learned of it. Looking around at the glowing, busy city, he suddenly felt a jolt of excitement. “You mean, we’re in the place where the diamonds and the slaves came from?”

  “Well, thankfully, shipping slaves to the West Indies is pretty much over now,” Jonas said slowly. “But the diamonds are still flowing like water out of this area.”

  “This is a good place to be a skilled pickpocket,” Luca said with a sly smile.

  “That it is,” Harman agreed, nodding.

  “Do you still keep your skills up, then?” Luca asked Jonas.

  “Not so much, if I’m honest,” Jonas admitted.

  While Luca and Jonas continued to chat casually about thievery, Twist simply waited for Skye’s return. Even though Jonas spoke freely and lightly now, Twist couldn’t help but notice the taut sensation that lingered at the base of his own neck. Perhaps it was just the lateness of the hour, but Jonas also appeared deeply fatigued no matter how he struggled to hide it.

  “Well, that’s all settled,” Skye said, walking up to them. “Jon, I sent a message a few hours ago back to Aazzi. She’s responded and told me where to meet her.”

  Everyone looked to her, suddenly serious.

  “And the magpies?” Harman asked.

  “The Rooks,” Skye corrected him, “are going to get whatever they can for the pirate airship and take the pirates to London for trial.”

  “What about us?” Luca asked.

  “What about you?” Skye asked back. “The pirates can deny stealing the vial till the cows come home, but I found it on their ship.” The two gypsies looked at her in surprise. “What? Why would I break my promise to you now? That doesn’t even make sense.”

  “Told you,” Jonas said smugly.

  “Where are we meeting Aazzi, then?” Harman asked.

  “Let’s catch a cab,” Skye said, already looking for one. “She said to meet her at a monastery. She and the rest of the Vimana’s crew are waiting for us.”

  Twist felt the buzz in his neck tighten slowly. His own fears for the safety of the Vimana’s crew found their way back to the forefront of his mind as well. Needing to call for help from around the world was a sure sign that something had gone terribly wrong. As Twist and his companions hailed a p
air of small, four-wheeled cabs and began to trot through the brightly lit streets, Twist found himself unable to calm his own fears about what they might find. The nagging thought that he would soon face a few dozen vampires and do something heroic did little to calm his nerves.

  The monastery was a multistory, sprawling expanse of stone arches, long hallways, and open rooms. Two men in simple habits met them at the entrance with polite greetings in English. Skye introduced herself and the others, saying that they had come to see Aazzi. The monks’ faces flashed with alarm, and the men moved without hesitation to lead Twist and his companions up to the third floor of the building. They walked quietly along an exterior stone rampart that ran beside a large room filled with desks, bookshelves, and studying men in habits. Monks that passed them offered smiles of greeting, but no one spoke to Twist and his friends.

  They came finally to a square room at the far end of the wing that had a vaulted ceiling and tall, open arches on each side. There was simple-looking furniture—clearly enough seating for twenty or more people—inside, electric lights that hung from the high ceiling like small chandeliers, and a table to one side that held pitchers and glasses. There was no real ornamentation in the place, except for something that hung on the wall and had been shrouded by a cloth.

  Aazzi sat in one of the chairs, speaking to two men. Twist felt a shock of relief to see that she looked well, dressed in her long black dress and ruby shawl. Her silver braids hung loose over her shoulders, and though she seemed unharmed, her dark face showed clear signs of weary concern.

  Myra ran to her the moment she saw her. “Aazzi, dear!” she said, her voice full of consolation.

  Aazzi stood instantly and embraced her with an astonished sound.

  “Myra, I didn’t expect you to come,” Aazzi said, smiling down at her. “But seeing you is a very welcome surprise.”

  “Twist and I simply had to come,” Myra replied, smiling at Aazzi as the others came closer.