Kazan looked exactly as he had the last time Twist had seen him—orange eyes, blue hair, strong features, and an imposing build—before he had transformed into the huge, scaly, blue beast. He now appeared to be pressing his hands on the other side of the glass, as if leaning against it from inside the mirror world. Jonas was asleep in the hammock above Twist, but there was no one else in the room and nothing that could create the flawless apparition in the mirror.
“Hello there, little one,” Kazan said smoothly, his grin edged with something sinister. His voice came to Twist’s ears from the other side of the mirror, as clear as if there were no glass at all.
“How…” Twist muttered, finding his breath just as thin as his scattered thoughts. “You’re dead,” he said, forcing himself steady. “I saw you explode. I was arrested for your murder!” His mind flew back to his trial in the golden city that was hidden at the South Pole, where he had been judged by a jury of dragons.
“I’m not that easy to kill,” Kazan said slowly. “But you are.” As he spoke the last word, the glass splintered under his fingertips.
Twist watched in horror as the cracks spread to cover the glass in a spider web. Kazan pushed with one hand, and the glass fell in a cacophony. Kazan smiled dangerously at Twist from the mirrored image of the room that remained, and he reached both hands out to pull himself through the frame.
Fear tore through Twist like a lightning strike. He tried to back away, but his hammock swung with his motion, and he tumbled to the floor. When he looked up again, Kazan was already standing in the room, leaning down to him with outstretched hands that transformed into long, savage, taloned claws. Twist tried to scramble away, to get to his feet and run, but Kazan was faster. The claws bit into Twist’s flesh with a searing heat, and Twist pulled in breath to scream.
“I’m not that easy to kill,” Kazan said slowly, still on the other side of the solid mirror glass.
Twist jerked in shock as he found himself still in his hammock.
“But you are,” Kazan repeated, splintering the glass under his fingertips once again.
Twist swung his legs out of the hammock and stood quickly as the glass shattered and fell once again. His walking stick was leaning against the wall near the door. Twist snatched it up as Kazan climbed out into the room and turned on him with his gleaming talons. Twist jabbed at him with the electric tip of his walking stick, but Kazan batted it away with amazing speed. Before Twist could even back away another step, Kazan caught him by the throat, the sharp talons digging deep into his neck. Twist struggled to scream.
“I’m not that easy to kill,” Kazan said a third time, from behind the glass yet again as Twist watched from his hammock.
“Stop!” Twist yelled as the glass splintered once again. “I’m sorry! Please, stop!”
He stumbled to his feet and flew for the door as he heard the shattered glass fall to the floor. He barely got hold of the door handle before Kazan’s talons clenched down onto his shoulder. Twist screamed and fell to the floor in unimaginable pain.
“Twist!” a voice called fearfully.
Hands were on him, pulling at him. He struggled against them, fighting to get away.
“Twist, it’s all right,” Jonas said, very close now.
Twist opened his tightly clenched eyes to find Jonas kneeling before him on the floor, staring at him with fright in his dim purple eyes. Jonas was holding Twist’s wrists to pull him out of a tightly curled ball. Twist was nowhere near the door but huddled on the floor beneath his hammock, his pillow and blanket lying on the floor as well, as if he’d tumbled to the floor again. Over Jonas’s shoulder, he could see that the mirror glass was intact and empty.
“Where is he?” Twist gasped, looking for the dragon. “Where’s he gone?” He tore his hand away from Jonas to reach for his own shoulder, neck, and back, but found no blood.
“It’s all right, Twist,” Jonas said, his tone pleading as he took hold of Twist’s arms and struggled to catch his eyes. “It was just a dream. You’re all right.”
“A dream?” Twist asked, his breath almost too thin to voice his words. As he looked to Jonas, he realized that his heart was pounding and his whole body was shaking, but he wasn’t in any pain. Kazan’s talons hadn’t left a mark on him.
Jonas’s fright turned to concern. He pulled Twist closer and wrapped him in his arms. The dark room vanished into pure, cool, impossibly bright white fog when Jonas’s hand pressed against the base of Twist’s neck. Twist’s fear dimmed into numb quiet so quickly that, for an instant, he forgot everything and merely wondered why Jonas was holding him.
After a moment, though his memory returned, he felt his body begin to ease and his breath slow and deepen. The fog in his mind thinned until he found himself now curled up against Jonas, his head on Jonas’s shoulder and his face nestled under his friend’s throat, while Jonas rubbed his back soothingly. The fog that usually lingered in his Sight with any touch from Jonas seemed much thinner now than normal.
“It’s all right now,” Jonas said softly. “You’re fine. It was just a dream.”
“Oh heavens…” Twist breathed, startled now at just how afraid he had been.
Jonas bent his head to look at Twist’s face. Twist pulled back and let him look into his eyes. Jonas stared for a moment, his eyes so darkly purple that they looked black in the dim light. After a silent moment, Jonas let out a sigh. Only then did Twist see the lingering mist of sleep that still hung awkwardly on him.
“You want to talk about it?” Jonas asked as he reached up to wipe the backs of his fingers at Twist’s temple. Twist suddenly realized that he was bathed in chilly sweat.
Twist gave a low moan and covered his face in his hands. The room felt like it was spinning slightly, and his stomach wasn’t stable at all. Cold crawled under his skin, even though he was still sweating. When Jonas leaned away, Twist grabbed at his arm out of blind reflex. Jonas paused, looking at him carefully, while Twist stared at his own hands, bewildered. The thought of losing contact with Jonas, even for a moment, seemed unreasonably terrible to him.
Jonas didn’t pull away but reached down to snatch Twist’s watch off of the floor, where it lay beside his fallen pillow. He handed it to Twist, who held it tightly in one hand. His Sight wrapped around the familiar clockwork and the calm, cool stability in it, and he felt himself ease just a little more.
“Hang on just a second, all right?” Jonas said softly to Twist, gently pulling Twist’s hand off of his own arm.
Twist let his grip loosen this time. Jonas got to his feet and turned away, while Twist tried to put his full attention on the pocket watch. He took long, deep breaths while Jonas poured some clean water from the jug into the washing basin on the dressing table and soaked a small towel in it. Twist watched his friend’s reflection in the mirror but found nothing unnatural at all in the image. The glass wasn’t even slightly cracked now. Jonas knelt down in front of him again and wiped gently at Twist’s brow with the cool towel. Twist closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
“I’ve never had a dream like that,” he said softly.
“With all the things we’ve been through, I’m surprised you and I sleep as well as we do,” Jonas said, pressing the cool towel to Twist’s neck. Even through the thick fabric, Twist’s Sight fogged over at the edges as he felt his body relax a little more. He closed his eyes to let his attention wallow in the soothing sensation. His stomach calmed, and the room slowly stopped spinning.
“He came through the mirror,” Twist said, watching the images replay in his mind with less fear than they’d held before. “It felt real. I could feel his claws—” Twist snapped his mouth shut as a ghost of the pain flashed to mind.
“Claws?” Jonas asked. “Who did you dream about?”
Twist looked at him and realized that he was far too nervous to speak the dragon’s name. The last time he had—all of the way back in Australia—his Sight had erupted in a torrent of fire. Even hearing someone else say it, or just the
word “dragon,” was bad enough.
“You don’t want to say, and he had claws…” Jonas mused, staring at Twist thoughtfully. “Are we talking about that blue monster you exploded in Japan?”
Twist smiled lightly, grateful for Jonas’s vague yet descriptive choice of words. “Yes, that one.”
“You still feel guilty about killing him?” Jonas asked.
Twist looked away. Considering what he’d just dreamed of, he must feel guilty. Somehow, though, the explanation didn’t seem to fit. He hadn’t even thought of Kazan in quite a while. Why would his guilt come out to plague him now?
“We paid our debt to his brothers,” Jonas said gently. “We fixed their astrolabe. And they said that he’s not really dead, as well. Apparently, he’ll be coming back to life eventually. And all you did was defend yourself. I saw it, remember. You have nothing to be sorry for, Twist.”
Twist gave a low tone, unable to make a more eloquent response as his thoughts tangled themselves up around things he didn’t understand and didn’t want to think about. Jonas took the towel back and caught Twist’s eye again.
“It’s almost morning,” he said with a nod at the brightening sky outside. “Do you want to go wake Myra up?”
“No,” Twist answered instantly. “It was just a dream. I shouldn’t wake her. I’m sorry that I woke you.”
Jonas shook his head. “Wakes up from night terrors and he’s still stuffy…”
Twist shot him a look.
“Fine,” Jonas said, putting on a smile. He took Twist’s hand, spilling a little more comfort into his Sight. “Once you’re stable, we’ll get dressed and go out on deck. Clear your head,” he added, reaching up to ruffle Twist’s hair. “There’s not much point in trying to go back to sleep now, anyway.”
Twist nodded, taking another long breath. His pride began to stir, and he kept his eyes away from Jonas’s now. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “And thank you,” he added, forcing his eyes up.
Jonas smiled. “You looking for another hug?”
“No,” Twist said, too quickly.
“Good,” Jonas said, smiling a little wider. “People talk enough as it is.”
The morning air was thin and chilly when Twist stepped out onto one side of the open deck. Though the sky was a thin and dusty gray, and the eastern horizon was brushed with brilliant gold, the sun had not yet risen. There was a crewman lying in the netting between the two hulls, humming lightly to himself in the almost total silence. The ship was still sailing on the wind, with no help at all from its engines, and seemed to be moving at a great speed even though the breeze off the bow wasn’t very strong.
“Oh,” the crewman said suddenly, drawing Twist’s attention. He leaned up on his elbows to look back at him. “You’re up early. The sun’s not even up yet.”
“I’m sorry,” Twist muttered uncertainly.
“No, it’s fine,” the crewman said quickly. “We won’t be serving breakfast for a few hours, though. There’s tea and cookies in the back cabin if you’d like.”
“I’m fine, thank you,” Twist said, forcing some brightness into his voice.
“Sure thing,” the crewman said with a nod, before laying himself back down on the net and resuming his tune.
Jonas walked up beside Twist, stifling a yawn behind a hand. “Ah, not far now,” he said, blinking into the horizon. Twist followed his gaze over the bow of the ship but saw nothing except the gathering dawn in the distance.
“Can you see Brazil from here?” Twist asked.
“Not from here,” Jonas said with a shrug. “The Earth sort of curves away, out of sight.”
Twist pulled his tiny copper globe out of his pocket and opened it to see the little blue mote of lightning dance gently on a spot close to the west coast of South America. They had covered most of the distance across the Pacific Ocean during the day and night. It looked like an enormous distance for so short a time. “How fast are we going?” Twist asked, frowning at his findings.
“Pretty damn fast, actually,” Jonas answered. “There’s nothing like a good strong wind. And is that man humming ‘Clementine’?”
The crewman looked around at Jonas. “What?”
“Nothing,” Jonas muttered, rubbing at his brow. “I’m gonna have that stuck in my head now,” he added much more softly to Twist.
“You know, there’s no reason for you to stay up,” Twist offered with as little emotion as he could muster. “It’s still very early.”
“No, no,” Jonas said with a wave of his hand. “I’m already up. Besides, I think we’ll be flying right over the Nazca Lines. That’s more than worth getting up for.”
“The what?” Twist asked, frowning.
Jonas looked at him levelly. “The Nazca Lines. You know, in Lima.”
“Never heard of it.”
“You know,” Jonas said with an overly bright smile, “there’s this great new invention called a ‘newspaper.’ You might want to check it out. It can tell you all sorts of secrets.”
“Funny, I never see you read anything,” Twist snapped back at him.
“I’m omniscient,” Jonas said with a wide grin. “Well, the Nazca Lines are a bunch of really huge drawings that someone left out in the Peruvian desert, ages ago. So big, in fact, that you can only really see the shapes they make from the sky. Aeronauts spotted them a while back. It was kind of a big deal because the drawings were set out long before people learned to fly. Some say that the ancient people who made them did it to entertain the gods.”
“What an odd thing,” Twist marveled. “What sort of drawings are they?”
“Animals and things mostly,” Jonas said. “You’ll see. You can’t miss them.”
Jonas stepped over to the edge of the netting and sat down, letting his feet hang over the edge, as he gazed off into the quickly brightening horizon. The crewman had stopped humming at some point and was now lying quietly in the net with his eyes closed and his hands clasped behind his head. Twist didn’t relish the idea of being close to the edge but reasoned that it must be safe enough if the crewman could be so relaxed. He sat down beside Jonas and tried not to let his gaze fall to the open ocean, so far below his feet.
Once he was seated and didn’t actually have to look at the drop, he found the space quite calm. The sails above them billowed full and taut on the quickly moving air. The rigging didn’t creak or whine, as it had been under constant tension for so many hours. The lack of engine noise was still eerie, but Twist had grown used to the quiet. As the first glow of daylight began to seep into the sky, Twist felt himself truly begin to relax. Jonas leaned back on this hands and drifted close enough to brush Twist’s shoulder with his own. Twist let his mind linger on the subtle connection to his Sight.
“So,” Jonas began after a long pause, “what do you think of Skye?”
This struck Twist as an odd topic to raise, but he went along with it nonetheless. “Do you mean the woman, or the medium of air?”
“I mean the magpie,” Jonas answered. “Do you think she’s mad?”
“Certainly.”
“That was a quick answer,” Jonas said, smiling at Twist.
“Well, I think she’s a lovely human being, and I enjoy her friendship, but she’s mad as a bag of ferrets.”
Jonas laughed and nodded. “Bang on there, I’d say.”
“Why do you ask?”
“I don’t know,” Jonas said with a sigh. “I’ve never met anyone like her. Plenty of mad people, sure, but none with her exact sort of reckless lunacy.” Jonas leaned a little closer to Twist. “And…” he began very softly. He paused, the buzz in Twist’s neck burning with anxious tension. “I’ve had a vision of her future.”
“You have?” Twist asked, fighting to keep the volume of his alarm low. “Was it…”
“Nothing fatal,” Jonas answered quickly. “But I saw her yelling at someone. Something about ‘what’s so bad about Rooks,’ or the like. She’ll look just about as dangerous as an angry tiger at the time
. Nearly every time I see her future, she’s doing something reckless or defiant. It’s just not healthy.” He sat straight again, shaking his head. “If she keeps tempting fate like that, fate is eventually going to retort.”
Twist looked at Jonas thoughtfully.
“What?” Jonas asked, glancing to him with an awkward tension on his face.
“You never tell me anything about your visions.”
Jonas’s eyes shifted quickly from green to gray as the buzz in Twist’s neck grew tight enough to snap. Twist was startled to find that Jonas had so willingly led him onto such an apparently delicate topic. Fearful of making a misstep, Twist jumped to a new subject before Jonas could bring himself to answer.
“Well, anyway,” Twist said quickly, looking away to buy himself a moment. “Even if she is mad, Skye’s a charming lady when she’s calm. Myra likes her a great deal,” he offered hopefully.
“Like peas in a pod, those two are,” Jonas said, nodding. He took a slow breath, calming the buzz in Twist’s neck back to normal.
“I must say, most of her actions alarm me,” Twist went on, relieved, “but I would never say that she’s a bad person.”
“So you like her,” Jonas summarized.
“And you like her, too.”
Jonas looked at him.
“What?” Twist asked quickly, his nerves ready to tighten again. “Or am I not really sure what we’re talking about?”
Jonas shook his head and looked back to the horizon. “I just like it better when girls don’t stick around this long. It’s just so much easier.”
“Are you talking about that girl who dresses like a boy?” the crewman asked suddenly, turning to look back at Twist and Jonas. Twist looked to him, startled to find himself overheard. “The same one who sat on your lap in the lounge?” the crewman added leadingly.
“I’m sorry, who are you?” Jonas asked back, his voice stiff.
“A woman like that makes up her own mind,” the crewman said, lying back down. “I wouldn’t bother wasting my time making plans, if I were you.”
Jonas’s expression soured. “No one asked you.”
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