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  “Skye’s just called me!” Myra announced with delight. “She wants to say hello.” To the watch, Myra said, “They’re both right here,” before holding it out to point the glowing blue face at Twist and Jonas.

  “Hello, boys,” Skye’s voice called out from within the watch. Her voice sounded slightly metallic but otherwise just like it ordinarily would. “I finally got a new talking watch of my own. Twist, I’m a little mad at you,” she added sternly.

  “Why?” Twist asked, startled.

  “You just had to wait to ask Myra to marry you until after I was gone, huh?” Skye’s voice said with a clearly taunting tone.

  “Oh,” Twist breathed, relieved. “Well, I didn’t exactly plan it that way…”

  “Well, congratulations anyway,” Skye said warmly. “I’m getting an invite, right?”

  “Absolutely,” Myra assured her instantly.

  “Good,” Skye said, sounding satisfied with this. “Now, how’s Algeria treating you?”

  “It threw a sandstorm at us, actually,” Jonas answered.

  “Yeah, Myra told me you’re all waiting it out in Tamarasset.” Skye’s voice was colored with a smile. “I’m kinda jealous. That place has great food.”

  “That’s good,” Myra mentioned, smiling at Twist as she spoke to the watch. “I’m sure Twist will enjoy it.”

  “Make sure he tries the cheese!” Skye said suddenly. “There’s a place there that makes fantastic goat’s cheese.”

  “Oh, really?” Myra asked, instantly enthralled.

  Jonas silently scooted an unused cushion into place beside the table and offered Myra a hand to help her up onto the ledge. Understanding his gesture easily, Myra sat on the cushion, joining them at the table as she continued to speak to her watch. Skye made more recommendations and then went on to relate entertaining tales of her own visits to the underground city. Myra smiled and giggled as she spoke to her friend, appearing perfectly pleased by the company of her voice.

  Twist and Jonas spoke up only when spoken to, otherwise sitting quietly as they sipped their tea and watched the bazaar. Eventually, however, Skye reluctantly confessed that she had to attend to other matters. Myra promised to answer her watch anytime Skye called. Skye also mentioned that, should Myra find herself with free time, she could also place a call by simply opening the watch and asking the voices within for Skye. Twist smiled, finding it strange that such a mysterious technology could be commanded with such ease. Finally saying good-bye, Myra snapped her watch closed, severing the connection.

  “Well, that was rather nice,” Myra mentioned to Twist and Jonas, looking somewhat saddened to no longer be talking to her friend.

  “I’m glad you can still talk with her so easily, my dear,” Twist offered. “Talking with Skye always seems to make you happy.”

  Myra smiled and nodded. “Oh, Skye and I could talk for ages.”

  “Yes, you could,” Jonas agreed.

  Myra shot him a suspicious glance. “Are you trying to say we talk too much?”

  “Would I say that?” Jonas asked, looking aghast.

  Myra narrowed her eyes at him.

  “Don’t mind him,” Twist said to Myra.

  Jonas shot Twist a smirk but didn’t retort.

  “Are you finished shopping, dear?” Twist asked Myra.

  “Oh, I found a lovely new dress,” Myra mentioned brightly, reaching down to pick up her forgotten shopping. “And some cookies that I think you’ll like.”

  “How nice,” Twist offered.

  “What time is it, Twist?” Jonas asked.

  Twist pulled his own watch out of his pocket and checked. “Quarter to six.”

  “Wow, I didn’t think it was that late already,” Jonas said.

  “When did you have lunch?” Myra asked. “Are you getting hungry again, dear?”

  “I’m not sure,” Twist answered honestly. “But that kebab was rather good.”

  “Why don’t we go check on the others?” Jonas suggested. “Most of them are probably still working on the Vimana. When they really get into repairs, they can lose track of time.”

  “Oh yes!” Myra said happily. “That sounds like a good idea. Someone ought to look after their health, as well.”

  “I’ll pay our bill,” Jonas offered, getting up to do so.

  When Twist stepped off the train and back into the airship-filled cavern again, and he saw the huge tarp over the opening pulling violently at the ties that held it closed, he suddenly realized that he’d forgotten entirely about the sandstorm. The underground city remained completely untouched by whatever chaos was happening outside.

  “Did you say the storm might last for days?” he asked Jonas as they and Myra began to climb the metal stairs against the rock wall, up to where the Vimana was docked.

  “They can last for a while,” Jonas said with a nod. “Or they can last just a few hours. There’s no real way to tell until it’s over.”

  “It’s strange,” Twist mentioned as they continued upward. “It doesn’t feel warm in these caverns, but it did outside.”

  “I heard that they cool the air that they pump in here with water after they filter it,” Jonas said. “It’s ingenious, really. They keep it cool and nice down below, while it’s awful out on the surface.”

  “It’s like they can control the weather!” Myra marveled excitedly. “It all sounds like magic to me.”

  “To me, as well,” Twist said with a light laugh. Then he frowned, looking to Jonas. “It isn’t magic, is it?”

  Jonas laughed and shook his head. “No, it’s just clever engineering.”

  He then stepped first onto the open deck of the Vimana, followed by the others. Twist looked up to find Arabel in the rigging that held the balloon and the steering wings of white sails in place, hanging by her feet as she reached far under the belly of the balloon to work at the ropes. Aazzi was near the bow, hammering a fresh board into place. Her long black gown seemed to be gathered up near one hip, leaving her long legs free in nothing but her black tights and bare feet.

  “How’s it going, up there?” Jonas called up to his sister.

  Arabel paused in her work to look down at him. “What time is it?” she yelled down.

  “It’s six now,” Twist offered, having just double-checked the time on his pocket watch.

  “What?” Arabel called back.

  Twist frowned. He’d thought his voice had grown stronger as of late, but apparently, it was still too soft for all situations.

  “It’s about seven!” Jonas called up to Arabel.

  “No, it isn’t,” Twist said to Jonas, startled.

  “That’s still on Sierra Leone time,” Jonas said, holding his hand out to Twist.

  Twist sighed and unhooked his watch chain from his waistcoat button hole, handing him the watch. Jonas reset the watch and handed it back without a word. Twist shook his head, put his watch away, and began to wonder how much longer the two of them would continue this odd ritual every time they crossed into a new time zone. Of course, Twist was more than capable of setting his own watch. But somehow, he rather liked to just let Jonas do it for him.

  “Thank heavens,” Arabel was saying as she descended the ropes and came closer. “I’m getting blisters. I say it’s time for dinner. Aazzi? What do you think?” she called over to Aazzi, as she was also approaching them.

  “I’m not hungry, but I could certainly use a break,” she said, untying her skirts from her hip and letting them fall free and flowing around her legs again. “I’ll go and fetch the others,” she offered, already heading to the hatch that led below decks.

  “Thanks,” Arabel said before Aazzi was gone, as she reached up to untie her hair from the loose tail that it had been bound up in. “And thank you for coming to check on us,” she said with a weary smile as she ran her fingers through her long, gently curling blond hair. “It’s really easy to lose track of time.”

  “How’s the ship doing?” Jonas asked her.

  “She’s a tough
old bird,” Arabel said fondly. “There’s nothing that can’t be fixed. It’ll just take some time.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want some help?” Twist asked her. He remembered how quickly Howell and Arabel had brushed off any offer of help from the others but now also felt somewhat guilty for enjoying such a leisurely afternoon when their friends were working hard.

  “No, but thanks,” Arabel responded with a smile, yet again. “I know this ship too well. I know what she needs. It would probably take longer to explain everything than to just do it myself.”

  “Yeah, don’t touch the rigging,” Jonas said, sounding worried. “One knot out of place, and Ara will blow a cog.”

  “I won’t blow a cog,” Arabel snapped at him, pouting. “I just like things to be done a certain way.”

  “See?” Jonas asked Twist. “Just mention tying a wrong knot, and she’s already angry.”

  “Cut it out!” Arabel whined, slapping at her brother. “It’s you being a brat that’s making me angry. If I am at all,” she added smugly.

  Jonas chuckled, clearly pleased with himself.

  “Jon…” Howell said with a sigh, walking closer with Zayle and Aazzi, wiping his hands on an oily cloth. “Are you ever going to outgrow teasing your sister?”

  “Never,” Jonas declared with conviction.

  Myra laughed quietly into her hand, while Twist only shook his head.

  “Brat,” Arabel spat at him, her eyes narrow.

  Jonas made a face at her but kept his eyes closed. Arabel rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

  “Come along, children,” Howell said with another sigh, already heading to the dock stairs. “Let’s go find some supper.”

  Neither Arabel nor Jonas made a comment against the slight, as everyone followed Howell back down to the cavern floor. Howell asked Arabel where the gypsies and the Frenchmen had gotten to, and she took a moment to close her eyes in concentration on her Sight before telling him where each group currently was. She then led Twist and the others to meet with their missing shipmates to invite everyone to dinner.

  The gypsies had been juggling for a light crowd in one of the open squares, and they accepted the invitation easily and stopped to gather the tips they’d so far earned. The Frenchmen were already seated at a table in a small restaurant, nibbling at a plate of olives, apricots, almonds, and fluffy, white, salty goat’s cheese, and so the others simply joined them. The group took up half of the small restaurant, claiming two more tables and their surrounding colorful cushions. The restaurant staff didn’t seem to mind at all, however, as they all ordered a great deal of food and wine to share.

  There were spiced and fire-grilled meats and vegetables, fresh fruits and nuts from the local orchards, flatbreads made with garlic and herbs, olives and sugared dates, and a wide array of cheeses and spiced yogurt sauces. They ate nearly everything with their hands or spooned things onto the flatbread to eat. Twist tried a bit of everything, enjoying some familiar flavors and the delight of new and surprising ones, while Myra asked him to tell her what everything tasted like. He struggled to identify some things but enjoyed her tones of delight and wonder as he tried each food.

  Hours later, with their bellies full and the storm still raging outside, they all left for the Vimana. Some stayed out on the deck to continue chatting, while others said their good-nights and left for their cabins on the ship. Twist felt somewhat proud of himself for being one of the last to turn in, he and Myra leaving only Luca, Zayle, and Jonas still awake on the deck, recounting old memories of their younger years.

  Twist sat down on the bed that he and Myra shared—a simple mattress laid out on the floor in Myra’s old cabin, which was just large enough for the two of them—and began to wind his watch. Faint, blueish, electric light fell in through the porthole windows, while a soft amber glow poured out of the gas lamp mounted on the opposite wall. Myra hummed lightly in the quiet room as she sat in the chair before the dressing table and used a metal comb to smooth out her long, maroon-colored wire hair; her copper skin glinted in the low light now that she’d buffed it with a cotton cloth.

  Twist smiled and took in a full breath, savoring this calm and peaceful moment. It still felt unfamiliar to spend his nights with Myra, but Twist relished the thought that doing so would one day become perfectly commonplace.

  “Darling?” Myra asked, her voice musing.

  Twist offered a questioning tone.

  Myra finished tying her hair into a long tail at her neck and smiled to him. “Who shall we invite to our wedding?”

  The question startled Twist for a moment, setting his heart beating faster. He had only proposed to her just the other day. The fact that this beautiful, charming, and legendary princess had actually accepted him still seemed ridiculous. The shock of it hadn’t yet worn off, and he continued to find it difficult to move past that thought to any other.

  “Well…” he muttered, turning to slip his pocket watch under his pillow. “We haven’t even decided when to have the…the wedding.” He forced a yawn as he turned back to her in hopes of covering his own inability to speak the words smoothly.

  “Oh, we can figure that out any time,” Myra said easily, getting to her feet. She turned the key at the gas lamp to shut it off. “I mean, first we shall have to get that nasty beast’s blood off of your skin. And we will need time to arrange everything, as well.” Having shaded the porthole windows with the little curtains that hung by them, she came to join Twist. “Skye told me how an English wedding goes. It seems like there’s lots to do,” she added with pure delight, as she sat beside Twist and pulled the covers up over her knees.

  Twist noticed suddenly that they’d never discussed the style of wedding they would have, but Myra appeared to have already decided to follow the customs of Twist’s homeland instead of her own. Rather than question her, Twist let the matter go for the moment in favor of following after her bright thoughts.

  “Well, who would you like to invite?” Twist asked as casually as he was able.

  “The Vimana’s crew, naturally,” Myra began, smiling brightly and counting on fingers. “And of course Skye will be coming. I would love to invite all of our friends, if we can. Idris and Jeffery…Tasha and Niko, of course, as well!” she added excitedly.

  “Good heavens, we do have rather a lot of friends now, don’t we?” Twist asked with a pleased chuckle. “How ever did I meet so many people?”

  Myra smiled to him but then fell silent, her smile fading into a somberness that surprised Twist. She caught sight of his concerned glance and swiftly put on a smile as she shook her head.

  “Oh, don’t mind me,” she said with a soft sigh. She moved closer to him, taking his arm and leaning her head against his shoulder. “I’m only being silly.”

  “Nonsense,” Twist retorted, his voice gentle as he felt her melancholy emotions bleed into his Sight from her touch. “What’s the trouble, my dear?”

  “Oh…” she moaned, hesitance blooming in her. “I just wish my daddy could come. He always hoped that I would marry a good man.” She lifted her head to smile at Twist, her emotions warming quickly. “I wish I could show him that I’d found one, after all.”

  Twist struggled with the compliment but took it as well as he could. Knowing Myra’s legend, Twist could easily guess that her father must have lived and died centuries ago. The legend didn’t mention any extended family beyond the princess and the king. Twist suddenly realized that Myra might be just as much an orphan as himself.

  “Well, even if I don’t have any family to invite,” she said bravely, “what about you, dear?”

  “Me?”

  “Don’t you have some family in London?” Myra asked him. “I know we were very busy the last few times we were there, so I don’t mind not meeting them. But they should come to our wedding, shouldn’t they?”

  Twist had begun to shake his head before she’d finished speaking. “I don’t have any family. I grew up an orphan. Didn’t I tell you that?”

&n
bsp; He was once again startled when, although he had spoken matter-of-factly and without emotion, Myra’s expression flashed with horror. She drew both hands away from him to cover her gaping mouth.

  “Oh! I’m so sorry…” she began gently, her voice thick with remorse. “I didn’t realize. You never spoke of any family, but you never told me…” Her voice fell away anxiously.

  “I’m sorry if I startled you, my dear, but it’s nothing so terrible as all that,” Twist said quickly, reaching out to wrap an arm around her while he smiled to her. “Please, you don’t need to apologize. I’m not bothered about it. You really needn’t be.”

  “But,” she began again, hesitantly now, “how could something like that even happen to you?”

  “I don’t know,” Twist said with a shrug. “I was told that I was found on the doorstep of the orphanage, only a few weeks old, if that. I don’t remember anything about my parents. Sometimes I forget that I ever had any at all. Perhaps I just popped into being, right there on the stoop, of my own accord,” he added mirthfully.

  Myra clearly found no humor in his words and continued to look at him in sober contemplation, her emotions wandering through sorrow and dismay. “But…isn’t an orphanage a place where lost children find homes? Did no other family come to take you away to a new home of your own?”

  “I wasn’t very sociable as a child,” Twist said with a sigh. Somewhere, deep below his normal mental landscape, something dark began to stir in his memories. He brushed the feeling aside and continued to speak easily. “Sometimes families would come to choose a child to adopt, but they didn’t want someone like me.”

  “And why not?” Myra asked, suddenly cross.

  Twist smiled at her loyalty. “I was too small, and strange, and Sighted, and, well…” Twist paused to shake his head as he recalled such distant and unhappy memories. “Let’s just say I was rather troubled as a boy.”