“I hope you do,” Samay said, heading for the doorway. “I’ll be back to fetch you in the morning. Good evening,” he added directly to Myra with a smile before closing the arched golden door behind him.
The moment he closed the door, Skye hurried to move around the room, lifting light things to look under them and peering behind the heavier ones. Twist and Myra watched her curiously, but Jonas didn’t seem to notice. He moved to the nearest wall and leaned against it, his arms crossed, while he looked up into the flames overhead. Twist moved closer to him.
“Are you all right?” he asked softly, not wanting to draw too much attention from the women.
Jonas glanced away from him. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not falling into my bad habits now, are you?” Twist asked with a light smile.
Jonas looked at him levelly, through dull, ashen eyes. “I’m fine.”
Twist would have liked to press on, regardless of Jonas’s suddenly laconic tone, but Skye returned to them on determined steps.
“Okay, I think we really are alone in here,” she said to Twist and the others urgently. “Now, I need to know what your play is.”
“What?” Twist asked Myra, hoping she might be able to translate. Myra shook her head and shrugged.
“How and when are you boys planning to escape the big, scary monsters?” Skye asked, her patience clearly wearing thin.
“Do we need to escape?” Twist asked Jonas. “I thought we were going to be set free once our task is done.”
“Yeah, besides, they can find us anywhere,” Jonas mentioned, nodding.
“So, you’re just going to go along with all this?” Skye frowned. “What if I told you Aden’s on his way here, right now, with an armada?”
Myra gasped.
“He’s what?” Jonas asked Skye, pushing off of the walk to come closer.
Skye smiled smugly. “My transmitter couldn’t get a signal inside that damned bottle,” she said, toying with the watch that hung over her heart. “But as soon as I got out, it started working again. And through your pocket I heard everything they said in that weird trial.”
“And you told everything to Aden,” Twist said, imagining that doing anything else would seem ridiculous to Skye.
“When will he get here?” Jonas asked.
“Tomorrow morning, probably,” Skye said with a wide smile.
“There are a lot of big, scary monsters here,” Jonas mentioned.
“I know. I told him. That’s why he’s coming. After what happened to you,” she said with a gesture to Jonas, “Aden wants to make sure that these bastards haven’t taken anyone else and made us forget about them. And he’s bound and determined to keep it from happening again.”
“Holy hell…” Jonas muttered, a hand on his brow and a deeply worried expression on his face. “It’s going to be a massacre.”
“Aden knows what he’s doing,” Skye said with a frown. “This ain’t his first rodeo.”
“But what about us?” Myra asked timidly. Twist turned to find anxiety clear on her face.
“That’s what I’m trying to establish right now,” Skye said.
“No, but…” Myra muttered, turning to Twist fearfully. “These are very vengeful creatures, my dear. They were already angry with you before. If they think that you caused an attack on them, they’ll find you and…” Her words fell away as she gasped in a breath and seemed about to cry.
Twist reached out to her instantly, wrapping an arm around her. Her dread hit his Sight hot and tart, but he weathered it to give her a smile.
“There, there,” he soothed, desperate to calm her. “I’m sure we’ll figure something out.”
“She’s got a point, though,” Jonas said to Skye.
“Look, the armada is just plan B,” Skye said with a sigh. “Aden doesn’t want a war if he can avoid one. He wants peace, and he’ll do everything he can to get it. But in the meantime, we can get the hell out of here! Do you want your rescue or not?”
Jonas fell into a thoughtful pause.
“I don’t mind finishing our task,” Twist offered. “And if we do finish the astrolabe, then a lot of these beasts will use it to leave the Earth. Isn’t that worth the work?”
“I agree,” Jonas said, nodding. “We should try to finish it, if we can.”
“Fine…” Skye said on a heavy breath. “I’ll tell Aden. But really, boys, if we get a chance to run for it, there isn’t going to be time to argue.”
“We understand that,” Jonas said. Skye nodded, her expression glum.
“Oh, Skye…” Myra murmured, reaching out to take her hand. “Thank you for trying to help us. You’re very brave.”
Skye smiled at her. “Thanks, Myra,” she said, taking a breath that seemed to cool her mood.
“Yes, thank you for thinking of our safety,” Twist added brightly. Skye gave him a light smile. Twist glanced at Jonas meaningfully. Jonas gave a sigh.
“Don’t fret, love,” he said to Skye with a forced smile. “I’m often in peril. I’m sure you’ll manage to rescue me some day.”
Skye’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Watch it, handsome,” she warned darkly.
Jonas smiled slightly, seeming to be quietly pleased once again with her annoyance.
In the new quiet and solitude, Twist and the others turned their attention to the offerings of their lodgings. They discovered their luggage had been left beside the seven beds that stood against the wall in the back of the room. Having no luggage of her own, however, Skye simply sat down on one of the beds and gazed lazily up at the fire above.
“Would you like to borrow something to wear tomorrow?” Myra asked her. “We’re nearly the same size, and you’ve been in the same clothes for a while now…”
“Thanks, honey,” Skye said, smiling to her. “What have you got?”
While the two of them dug through Myra’s things, Twist sat himself down on one of the other beds. His fatigue from the long day was beginning to fall heavily on him. He tried to decide whether or not it was worth the effort to change out of his clothes from the day. He’d slept in his clothes before, with little ill effect. He was nearly tired enough now to fall asleep sitting up.
A nagging tightness at his neck stirred him from his sluggish thoughts. He turned to see Jonas sitting on the edge of the bed beside his, staring at the burning tree with yellow eyes once again. Twist glanced back to find that Myra and Skye were well distracted with Myra’s luggage. He then got up and approached Jonas, sitting beside him.
Jonas looked to him questioningly. “You’re not going to try to sleep with me like Vane, are you?”
“What’s wrong?” Twist asked, ignoring the accusation.
“With what?”
“With you. Even since we stepped into this building, you’ve been unhappy.”
“Oh, leave it alone, will you?” Jonas grumbled, turning away from him.
“Why can’t you tell me?” Twist asked, reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder. The fog that billowed into his mind was cold, shifting, and anxious.
“Because it’s…” Jonas muttered, clearly struggling for an answer. “It’s nothing.”
Twist began to disagree, but a shift in his Sight stilled his words. An unexpected memory of fire flashed through Twist’s mind: a room aflame, the wallpaper peeling off into ash, the air choked with heat and smoke, the roof collapsing onto the little table that the tiny figure huddled under in terror. Twist’s hand jerked off of Jonas unconsciously, while the echo of the vision he’d gotten from Jonas’s sister—all the way back in that ghastly tea shop in London—evaporated from his mind.
Jonas looked to him darkly. “What did you just see?”
“Nothing from you,” Twist answered quickly. “I just remembered…”
Twist looked up to the fire above them, seeing it anew. Even if the heat was gentle, even if the tree wasn’t being consumed and the air was clear of smoke, the resemblance was uncanny. The vision of trauma that he’d gotten from touching Ar
abel—the night that she and her brother had been rescued from their burning home by their uncle Howell—returned to him in full. Jonas and his sister had lost their home, their parents, and their whole lives that night, when they were both so young. He looked back to Jonas sheepishly.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I touched Arabel right after you were taken away. I saw what happened when you were children. I didn’t notice the similarity,” he added with a swift glance at the burning tree above them.
Jonas’s eyes went stony gray as he looked at Twist with a shade of alarm. “It’s fine,” he said, his voice cold and sharp as he looked away. “I’m not afraid of fire or anything like that. It’s just…” He shrugged awkwardly as he groped for words, and the buzzing in Twist’s neck boiled with anxiety.
“I’m sorry,” Twist offered swiftly, startled to find that admitting his knowledge had so deeply shaken Jonas. “I didn’t mean to…”
“Forget it,” Jonas said, taking a breath while he pulled himself to sit up straighter. His eyes took on a hint of green when he forced a smile for Twist.
“Geez, what’s going on over here?” Skye asked, coming closer with Myra. “You two look awful.”
“Nothing,” Twist answered hopefully.
“What’s up, blondie?” Skye asked, kneeling on the floor in front of Jonas. “You’re testier than normal.”
“Bloody hell,” he grumbled, turning to Twist. “Is this what it feels like when you tell everyone you’re ‘fine’ and we don’t believe you?”
Twist nodded sheepishly. “Well, yes…”
“Come on. Spill it, handsome,” Skye said flatly.
“Am I really the only one who’s nervous about the fact that the room is on fire?” Jonas asked, exasperated.
“But it’s obviously safe. Are you afraid of fire?” Skye asked, her tone questioning but not quite taunting. Twist looked to Jonas silently.
“No, of course not,” Jonas grumbled.
Skye looked to Twist instead. “Then what is it?”
Twist froze, utterly unsure how to respond. He caught Jonas’s warning eye and the chill that rushed into the buzz at his neck. Speaking the truth was out of the question. Jonas clearly didn’t even want Twist to know it, let alone anyone else. Skye waited for him to answer, holding him still under her pointed gaze.
“Well, a ceiling aflame is a bit ominous,” Twist said with as little weight as he could. He glanced at Jonas to find his expression guarded but not yet angry.
“So, you are afraid of fire?” Skye asked, looking back to Jonas. Twist and Jonas both instantly tried to clarify somehow, but Skye got to her feet and shooed Twist away. “Scoot. I know how to fix this.”
Twist got up and backed away as Skye took his place and sat facing Jonas, sitting very close. She then took his shoulders and turned him to face her. Jonas’s eyes snapped shut, but he also hastily pulled his goggles down from his brow and on over his eyes.
“What are you doing?” he grumbled, trying to shake her hands off of him.
“Hush,” Skye said, taking hold of his hands. “Sit still and just relax.”
Jonas gave a sigh but didn’t pull away. He bowed his head, letting Skye keep a hold of his hands for the moment.
“Good,” Skye said, smiling. “Now just listen. What do you hear?”
Jonas paused for a moment and then shrugged. “I hear the leaves burning.”
“No, you don’t,” Skye said, shaking her head. “You hear a palm tree.”
“What?” Jonas balked.
“Hush,” Skye said sternly. “You’re sitting on a beach, down in Kona. It’s night, and the sky is clear. You could see all of those stars you like, if you just opened your eyes. And that’s a palm tree that you hear. The leaves are ticking together in the warm night breezes.”
A memory of sitting under a palm tree on a tropical beach returned to Twist suddenly. He had to admit, the sound of the fire was remarkably similar to what she described. As she spoke, Twist felt the buzzing in his neck calm slowly, while Jonas remained still. Skye fell quiet for a moment, letting the sound of the leaves take up the room.
“The surf is light,” she said then, her voice softer than before. “It sounds like your own breath, doesn’t it? Moving slowly in and out…” Jonas smiled slightly, making Skye respond in kind. “You have nothing to do. You’re just alone on your little beach, with your palm tree. You can lie down and rest for as long as you want. You’re perfectly safe. No one will bother you.”
“Did you learn this in clown school?” Jonas asked, his voice lighter now.
“Clowns are mysterious creatures, you know,” she said, grinning, as she released his hands. “Feel better now, honey?”
Jonas took a deep breath. “It kind of does sound like a palm tree, doesn’t it?” he murmured.
“Told ya,” Skye said, patting his arm before she got to her feet. “Now, you get some rest and quit freaking out.”
Jonas pulled his goggles down to hang around his neck and watched her walk away through once-again green eyes and with a subtle smile. The buzz in Twist’s neck was still and tranquil now. Myra went with Skye, the two of them speaking brightly about fashion again in hushed tones. Seeing that everyone was now at peace, Twist decided not to change for sleep just yet and lie down on his bed, meaning to only rest for a moment. With his eyes closed, his imagination transformed the sound of the fire into the ticking palm tree with ease.
He could almost see the palm fronds sway over him against the black sky. He watched the stars turn slowly through the night and idly tried to spot the planets, now that he knew them. The soft voices of his friends became the wind and waves, muttering gently against the shore. But while he let his imagination slip gently out of his control, unconsciously relaxing into sleep, the world around him began to change.
The palm trees grew into a city, and the sand became soot-stained, gray snow. Twist found himself suddenly, unmistakably, in London, wrapped in thick, chilly fog in a tight alley. The streetlights struggled to push their dirty amber glow through the dim. People hurried by him on the slick, ice-crusted, cobblestoned street, all silent and uncompassionate in their haste.
A woman in a hood of soft blue cloth rushed to his side, pulling him deeper into a shadow with a trembling hand. Twist felt no vision from her touch, and when he looked to her face, he saw nothing but the shadow under her hood.
“Quickly,” she hissed to him urgently. “There’s no time. They’re on my heels.”
Before Twist could respond, she thrust a bundle into his arms and then ran, disappearing into the fog. Twist’s heart filled to bursting with a terrible sense of loss to see her go. He tried to call out to her, but his voice caught in his throat, choked with pent-up sorrow. Bewildered by his own seemingly sourceless emotions, Twist looked to the bundle in his arms.
Though he saw only a pile of cloth, it seemed heavy. He pulled at the outer layer, assuming that there must be something wrapped inside. Pulling back the soft cotton, Twist gasped to see a newborn baby in his arms. The child seemed to be asleep, its eyes closed. As Twist stared at the sleeping face, he felt his own gravity shift oddly, and the world went black as he began to tumble through seemingly empty space.
The odd sensation of movement continued to grow stronger and more violent until he felt himself being shaken in the dark by an unseen hand. The cold of the fog vanished into warmth. A voice reached out from the dark, calling his name.
Twist’s eyes opened onto the real world; he was startled and disoriented as he woke too quickly. Jonas was leaning over him, gripping his arms and looking down at him with a concerned face. The fire in the branches above him still burned gently, and thin sunlight was beginning to spill in through the crystal walls. Twist tried to sit up but found that his limbs wouldn’t respond the way he expected. His heart was pounding, his stomach turned uncomfortably, and his breath was short. As Jonas helped him to sit up, Twist found that his own hands were shaking and his skin was slick with sweat.
“What the devil…?” Twist breathed.
“Calm down, you’re all right,” Jonas said, sitting close beside him on the bed and putting a steadying arm around his back. Myra appeared on the other side of the bed, offering a handkerchief to Jonas. He took it and wiped at Twist’s brow with it. “Just breathe, Twist,” Jonas said gently to him. “It was only a dream.”
“A dream?” Twist muttered. His mind was muddled with fright and couldn’t manage to process anything very well. He looked down and was surprised to find no baby in his arms now.
“You were yelling,” Jonas said gently to him. “Calling to someone. Who’s Naomi?”
Twist frowned, shaking his head. “Never heard the name before,” he muttered, struggling to make sense of himself. Hadn’t he been unable to speak at all in his dream? He certainly couldn’t have guessed what the mysterious woman’s name might be. He couldn’t even fathom why he had been so distressed to see her leave him. Who could she be have been? He never saw her face.
“Can I touch him now?” Myra asked, her voice pitifully anxious. Twist looked up to find her and Skye standing beside his bed, looking at him with great concern.
“Just a minute more,” Jonas said softly.
While his arm remained wrapped around Twist’s back, he reached up with his other hand to gently turn Twist’s face toward him. Twist felt the warm fingertips on his skin but none of the usual fog. New fright tingled up his spine as he realized that his Sight wasn’t responding to Jonas’s touch at all. He met Jonas’s deep-purple gaze with wide eyes.
“My Sight…” he muttered fearfully.
“I know,” Jonas said calmly. “Just wait. I can see it loosening. Try to relax.”
Twist stared back at him and did his best not to panic. A chill wafted over him, making him shiver. In the wake of it, Twist sensed a subtle blur at the edges of his mind. The blur grew quickly, rushing in on his attention, until Twist recognized it as the familiar, cool, calm, white fog. He let out a relieved breath, savoring the grounding weight of Jonas’s Sight against his own.
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