Inquest

by Emily Thompson

  “That’s bloody strange,” Jonas said, his tone clearly disturbed.

  “Exactly,” Twist agreed with a nod.

  “How could they know what your watch looks like? And why would they care about it?”

  “Exactly.” Twist sighed.

  “And both of them said the same thing? First how old are you, and then if you had your watch?”

  “They used almost the exact same words.”

  “And both of them did this in reaction to hearing about our Sights acting the way they do?”

  “Instantly after I mentioned it.”

  “That’s bloody strange. It’s no wonder you’re upset.”

  “Thank you,” Twist said on a half laugh.

  “But wait a moment…” Jonas added, his expression deeply thoughtful. “You told me that you grew up in an orphanage, and that you’re not sure that ‘Twist’ was your intended name.”

  “Right…” Twist muttered, starting to feel confused again.

  “And the watch was left with you,” Jonas said, his eyes emerald as he focused on his own thoughts. “So, theoretically, if anyone knew of you as a child and wanted to find you, they would have very little to go on. All they could really be sure of would be your age, where you’re from—which they could guess just by your accent—and that watch.”

  Twist shuddered as fright burned through his heart. “Vane’s friend said he’d been looking for me for nearly three decades!” he gasped as Jonas looked to him. “Jonas, I might not know exactly when I was born, but I know I’m not thirty years old yet.”

  “Why would a big lizard go looking for you?” Jonas mused with a frown.

  Twist shook his head. “He said he was amazed at his luck, finding me so easily when I arrived looking for Vane.” Twist’s breath was coming faster now. “Vane told me that other creatures use dr—I mean, those creatures, as bounty hunters. My God, you’re right. If anyone wanted to find me…”

  His words drifted off as he pulled the watch out of his pocket to stare at it in horror. The little watch ticked calmly, its cool brushed brass and decorative design looking innocent as ever. Jonas took Twist’s other hand, making him jump, but the fog quickly washed away the bulk of his fright. Finding himself almost gasping now, Twist struggled to slow and deepen his breath while his heart thundered.

  “Well, maybe this is good,” Jonas said gently. Twist looked to him in naked confusion. “The only people who could know about your watch had to be there when you were given away. Maybe your family is looking for you.”

  The concept struck Twist like a physical blow, making him flinch. “No, no…” he muttered, unable to fit the idea into his head. “That can’t be. They knew where they left me. If they’d ever wanted to take me back, they would have, long ago.” He put his watch away again, not wanting to see it that way.

  “You don’t know why they gave you up,” Jonas offered. “Maybe they couldn’t reach out to you when you were a child and are trying to now. Or maybe you were stolen away from them, and they’ve been searching the whole time.”

  “Using magical beasts?” Twist balked. “And what about Hala? What would a powerful djinn like her have to do with my family?”

  “How did she explain herself?” Jonas asked. “You must have seemed alarmed by her questions.”

  “Oh, she refused to explain anything,” Twist grumbled. “She said something mysterious about a legend and then refused to say anything else about the matter. She said that my ignorance was protecting me, whatever the hell that means.”

  “Ignorance never protects you from anything,” Jonas said, frowning.

  “Exactly.” Twist rubbed at his eyes with his free hand, feeling suddenly exhausted. “This whole thing makes no sense at all, no matter how I try to work it through.”

  “Well,” Jonas said on a heavy breath, “if I can’t help you understand any of this, I can at least tell you that you’re not crazy for feeling disturbed by it.”

  “Thank you,” Twist said, giving him a weak smile. “After last week, it is nice to hear anyone say that I’m not crazy.”

  “Twist,” Jonas began sternly, drawing Twist’s full attention, “you are not crazy. You’re surrounded by insanity on all sides, half-drowned in it, but you yourself are perfectly sane.”

  Twist smiled back, basking in his friend’s unshakable faith. “Jonas, sometimes you say things that steady me more than anything else does. Except for mending clockwork, of course,” he added quickly, brushing off the self-conscious sensation of speaking so plainly to Jonas. “Nothing puts me more at peace than mending clockwork.”

  “I’ll just take what compliment I can from that,” Jonas said with a skeptical grin. “But you know,” he added, glancing over the library until he spied a golden clock that stood on a table, surrounded by a pile of discarded books, “there are a few clocks on this ship. Maybe our captain would let you check that they’re all running properly.”

  “That’s a wonderful idea!” Twist gasped, his spirits lightening instantly. “Do you think I should ask him?”

  Jonas smiled back at him, his eyes a cool cobalt blue, while Twist noticed a ripple of relief wash through the fog in his touch.

  Twist’s gaze played over the item before him with all of the awe, curiosity, and joy of a child in a candy store. The clock had been placed on a table on the first floor of the salon, under a bright light in a tall stand. The face was made of onyx, and the inlaid silver numbers were of a thin and decorative roman style. The hands were of gleaming silver, and while the hour hand was simple in design, the end of the minute hand was shaped like a firefly, complete with a brilliant fleck of peridot set in its tail.

  More of the pale, yellow-green gem peppered the edges of the clock face, which hung in false suspension in the decorative branches of a single, pewter weeping willow that made up the stand of the clock. A pool of onyx—surrounded by pewter bottlebrushes—covered the base of the piece, where a pair of silver crocodiles lay curled in an arc, watching with keen, emerald eyes. Although Twist found the whimsical design of the clock rather delightful, it was the simple fact that it currently wasn’t running that tightened his excitement like a spring.

  “This clock was made especially for me,” Zéphyrin said as he and the others stood around the table, watching Twist. “It’s a beautiful piece, and it ran well for a long while. But then one day, it just stopped. I’ve tried having it seen to before, but its condition never seems to improve. None of the people I show it to can figure out exactly what is wrong with it.”

  “I’m sure Twist can fix it,” Myra said with perfect confidence. “He can fix anything.”

  Twist smiled at her. “I can usually mend anything mechanical,” he amended gently. “But this clock shouldn’t be any trouble at all,” he added to Zéphyrin. “Thank you very much for letting me look at it.”

  “You should wait to thank me until after you’ve tried to mend it,” Zéphyrin said with a light smile. “As I said, no one else has been able to. But most of them said the same as you do. Bravado will only get you so far, little one.”

  Twist smiled back at the dragon with the calm that only comes from complete confidence. He spied a similar expression on Jonas’s face as well. Vane and Hala only watched curiously, while Kali’s tail swished softly across the carpet as she sat watching. Twist reached out to trail his fingertips around the edge of the clock’s lovely face. His Sight responded instantly, seeping into the stilled clockwork like thick marsh fog. Twist let all the details of the clock’s damage fall into order in his awareness: the initial badly seated gear that had never been replaced, the spring that a foolish clockmaker had overtightened and strained, and the wear of multiple tools and hands that had marred the inner working still further.

  “Yes,” Twist said, smiling up to Zéphyrin as he took his hand away. “If you promise not to let those crude hooligans near any of your clocks again, I will gladly mend their mistakes in about an hour or so.”

  “By all means,” Zéphyrin said
with a wide smile and an inviting gesture. “Take all the time you need.”

  Twist dove into his work eagerly and without hesitation. It was mere moments before he had laid out the inner working of the clock on a soft cotton cloth placed on the table and begun to dismantle all of the damaged elements. As he worked silently, Twist’s spirit began to ease into the deep, soothing, and delicious comfort of his own well-developed skill. All other worries vanished into the task before him, and all of the stress and emotional fatigue of recent months dissolved into the simplicity of the elegant clockwork.

  It was no trouble at all to carefully repair each part of the clock, nor to replace the parts where they belonged. Twist smiled at the clever mechanism that moved the hinged jaws of the crocodiles in time to the seconds. The harmony of the machine began to sing gently in his mind as he adjusted every minutia until there was absolutely nothing else to mend. With a deep sigh and a bittersweet reluctance, he finally set the clock running and sat back to watch the firefly begin to glide almost imperceptibly through the willow branches while the crocodiles opened their jaws slowly wider or softly closed with each second. He wiped his hands on the cotton cloth and looked around to see where the others had gotten to.

  Myra was seated nearby, petting Kali’s neck and chatting lightly with Hala. Zéphyrin was standing with a goblin farther off, apparently discussing something about the large globe that stood in the center of the salon, while Vane sat on a velvet settee and flipped lazily through a book. Jonas was lounging on another settee, his form still, his eyes closed, and his expression blissful. While Twist wondered at his tranquility, Jonas opened his eyes and looked to him.

  “You’re finished?” he asked, sounding disappointed. “Are you sure you can’t keep working a little longer?”

  “Why do you want me to keep working?” Twist asked slowly, his eyes suspicious.

  “Because it makes you very happy,” Jonas said seriously. “I’ve never seen you so peaceful. And your peace is delightful,” he added with a wistful sigh.

  “Honestly now,” Vane said, drawing their attention. “And you two say you’re not lovers. Just admit your affections for each other. You’re only being silly, denying it.”

  Twist rolled his eyes.

  “You are mussing up my calm,” Jonas hissed bitterly at him. Vane gave a long-suffering sigh and got to his feet, coming to look at the clock.

  “Oh, is it done?” Myra asked, coming closer too. She stood near Twist and peered at the clock in awe. “It’s lovely!” she cried, taking Twist’s hand and sending her pride splashing through his thoughts. “I knew you could fix it.” Twist couldn’t help but smile back at her compliments.

  “It’s not ticking,” Zéphyrin said, having come around to see it as well. “It always made a ticking sound, but now it’s silent.”

  “It’s not meant to tick loudly,” Twist said with a shrug. “This clock is made to be very quiet. It’s a subtle and elegant design. The ticking sound you heard was one of the things that needed mending. It kept stopping because no one ever fixed it.”

  Zéphyrin looked to Twist appraisingly. “Extraordinary…and he fixed you, as well, didn’t he?” he asked Myra. She nodded with a proud smile. “To allow for such graceful movement and charming character,” he went on, looking her over, “your clockwork must be frightfully complex.”

  “Oh, you’ll make me blush!” Myra muttered sheepishly.

  Twist smiled at her and then looked back to Zéphyrin. “It took me nearly a week to finish all of the repairs,” he explained. “Her puppet has a fantastic design. The most wonderful I’ve ever seen,” he added sweetly to her.

  Myra giggled softly behind a hand.

  “I see,” Zéphyrin said, his red eyes glistening as he smiled. “Well, you are certainly welcome to mend any of the clocks on my ship, if you’d like to.”

  “I’d be only delighted,” Twist replied.

  “Yes, he would,” Jonas added brightly. Vane snickered. “Stop that!” Jonas grumbled at him.

  “You truly feel his emotions, even without any contact?” Hala asked Jonas. Twist’s relaxed nerves tightened again. Jonas glanced toward her hesitantly.

  “That’s not so weird,” Jonas said, his voice taut but calm. “Sights do things like that.”

  Hala gave a noncommittal tone, looking between Twist and Jonas with far too many implications in her deep, mahogany eyes for Twist’s taste. She then turned to Zéphyrin and suggested they take a stroll, as if nothing disturbing had been said. As they moved off, Twist took a few slow breaths to uncoil his once-again-nervous spirit.

  By the end of the day, Twist had seen to another three clocks and to Zéphyrin’s pocket watch. While the first clock had needed mending, the others were still running when Twist first began to work on them. Nevertheless, he managed to find a few issues with each of them. He worked slowly—being as thorough as possible—and savored the peace that the work brought.

  Jonas remained near him, sometimes watching and sometimes just resting or reading. To Twist’s great delight, Jonas never tried to draw him into conversation. Myra came to check on him from time to time but usually ended up entrapped by something distracting that Jonas would say. Kali began to wander about the ship for long periods of time but always came back to nap at Twist’s feet. Vane, meanwhile, kept mostly to himself, idly watching the sea glide by the huge windows of the salon.

  On one occasion, Twist followed the fox’s gaze and was startled to find a huge snake with black-mirror scales swimming through the dim ocean outside, lit by the lights of the submersible and the twin beams of the creature’s own glowing red eyes. As the snake paused to peer into a cleft in the rocky seabed, Twist recognized it as Zéphyrin in his dragon form by the tall top hat that was still on his head, nestled between his black horns. The dragon reached into the crevice in the seabed with the tip of his long tail and retrieved what looked to Twist like an old pirate’s treasure chest. Zéphyrin popped open the lid of the wooden box with the tip of his tail and smiled at the gold inside.

  Twist tore his eyes away from the strange image and tried not to think about the monster outside, picking the seabed for long-forgotten treasures. As Twist snapped the back cover onto Zéphyrin’s watch and cleaned the brushed silver surface with a cloth, he gave a contented sigh. He hadn’t been able to enjoy the simplicity of a day full of clockwork since the first moment that Myra had opened her eyes on that sunny beach, when he had finally finished repairing her puppet. Although it was far from her intent, her presence had changed his life completely. The return to familiar ground, even for a few hours, was extraordinarily satisfying.

  “Oh, are you finished with that one?” Myra asked from behind Twist, who sat at the tool-strewn table.

  “Just done,” he said, turning to find her standing behind him with a cup of tea. There were also a pair of small biscuits nestled onto the saucer.

  “What splendid timing,” she said brightly, offering him the tea. “You have been working so hard, for so long, that I was just coming to ask you to take a break,” she said as he took the cup from her. “It’s not good for you to work too hard, you know.”

  “Thank you for thinking of me,” Twist said, smiling to her. As she watched him expectantly, he took a small sip of his tea, which seemed to please her. “But you know,” Twist continued, “working on clocks is really no trouble to me. I find it relaxing.”

  “Well, I’m glad you do,” she said. “But you shouldn’t be sitting still for so long. You’re prone to pull a muscle if you get too tight.”

  Twist smiled and shook his head. While it could be troubling at times, part of him always found her attention to be ever so flattering.

  “Does Twisty need a neck rub?” Vane asked, stepping closer to them with an eager grin as he rubbed his hands. Lounging on a nearby settee, Jonas lowered the book he’d been reading to look toward Vane with an alarmed expression.

  “No, thank you,” Twist declared sharply.

  “Twisty?” Jonas asked
, clearly affronted by the term.

  “He’s been calling me that lately,” Twist said with a sigh. “Considering some of the other things he tried to call me, I accepted ‘Twisty’ as a compromise.”

  “What’s wrong with using your name, the way it is?” Jonas asked, sitting up and putting his book down.

  “Twisty is cuter,” Vane offered with a shrug. “It’s an affectionate pet name.”

  “I do wish you’d stop speaking about Twist like that,” Myra said to Vane, crossing her arms.

  “You never even use his name,” Vane said back to her. “He’s only ‘darling’ or ‘my dear’ to you. Jonas, what do you call him when you’re alone?”

  “Stop calling him by any and all affectionate pet names,” Jonas grumbled.

  “You’re not the boss of me…” Vane muttered, digging spitefully at the carpet with the toe of his wooden sandal.

  “You want to keep that fluffy tail of yours attached?” Jonas asked darkly.

  Vane made a face at him, which Jonas couldn’t see as he kept his gaze away from Vane’s. Twist nibbled at a biscuit, waiting patiently for the ensuing conflict to unfold before him like a cheap and predictable play. Before Jonas could dive headlong into his verbal assault, a sudden roar echoed out from the nearest corridor. Twist instantly recognized it as Kali’s voice, clearly bellowing in anger, while other voices joined hers.

  Twist and the others hurried to the doorway as the sounds drew closer. He looked out just in time to see Kali tear around a corner and pelt down the corridor toward the salon at full speed before a horde of goblins appeared, running after her and shouting in rage. Twist leaped back from the doorway as Kali ran straight for him. Once in the salon, she turned—her claws digging into the carpet to slow her pace—and huddled herself up against the back of Twist’s knees. The goblins spilled in after her and stopped, facing Twist, as fright tingled up his spine.