Clockwork Twist : Trick (7 page)

“Yeah,” Jonas toned with a derisive smile, “they built fantastic technology after reading about it in a book,” he said in a spooky sounding voice.

“Maybe the plans were hidden in the text,” the woman said mysteriously. “Maybe there is something totally different going on,” she added in a normal tone. “The point is that they would be quite interested in a fairytale clockwork princess.  How ever did you two come across her?”

“How do you know who Myra is?” Twist asked, unable to cope with the mystery any longer. “You believed me instantly.  How do I know you aren't one of these Cyphers?”

“Because I'm here in Suez tonight, planning to break into their stronghold to steal from them first thing tomorrow morning.”  Twist and Jonas stared at the beautiful lady in the sateen gown silently, both obviously unable to respond to this information.  The woman gave a sigh and tried again. “They have something I need.  And I've done my research.  We don't have to follow them now because I know exactly where they're going.  And you two are welcome to join me to try to help your friend.”

She finished with a pleased tone, and seemed to wait patiently for their response, but Niko said something in the German sounding language again.  She responded without looking to him.  He made a scoffing sound and crossed his arms.

“Don't you speak German?” Twist asked Jonas.

“Yes...” Jonas said, frowning. “They're speaking Serbian, by the way.  I don't speak that.”

“Damn.”

The woman seemed to be struggling to contain a laugh as she watched them.

“All right, new question,” Jonas said to her.  “Who in the bloody hell are you?”  Twist saw his eyes shift to deepest purple, though he was obviously keeping his gaze off her eyes as he stared very pointedly at the black pearl earring that hung from her right ear. “You're familiar to me.  Have we met?” Jonas asked feigning lightness.

“Most people know me as Tasha,” she said, smiling.

Jonas's face flashed with amazement. “As in Na-tasha?  As in Natasha Samara the world famous magician?”

“The what?” Twist balked.

“One and the same,” she said to Jonas with a shallow courtesy.

“Oh for heaven's sake...” Twist hissed as the strangeness started to boil over.

“This is my assistant.  Just call him Niko,” the woman said with a gesture to the twin bright blue beacons that stared out of the shadows at them. “And who might you two gentlemen be?  Why are you chasing after a girl made of copper, in Egypt?”

“Jonas Davis,” Jonas offered, “and Twist...” he paused, looking at Twist for a moment.  He looked back to Tasha. “Myra is our missing clockwork friend.”

“Clockwork,” Niko muttered. “How quaint.”  Twist felt instantly offended though he wasn't sure exactly why.

“Really, where ever did you find her?” Tasha asked. “She's been missing for ages.”

“Won her in a carnival game,” Jonas answered as if it were true as could be.

Tasha laughed quietly behind a black-gloved hand. “Very well,” she said, taking control of herself again. “Well, then why don't we agree to keep our own secrets without contest?  That way we can work together and each get what we want.”

Niko muttered something in Serbian.

“You are quite magnificent, my dear,” she said to him clearly in English, “but two more capable fellows would only improve our odds of success.”  She looked back to Jonas and Twist. “Providence has smiled on us tonight.  These two are much more than they appear to be.”

“Am not,” Jonas muttered.

“You haven't once looked into my eyes,” Tasha said. “Yet this one trusts your eyes better than his own,” she added, gesturing to Twist. “If I had to guess, I'd say you had a powerful Sight that you're being careful to control.”  At this, Twist's face showed obvious amazement.  She smiled at him, quite satisfied.

Jonas looked at Twist, and jabbed an elbow at him angrily. “I'm trying to outsmart a world class celebrity here.  Stop giving away my hand!”  Twist stared back at him in innocent and wounded bewilderment.

“Are we going to stop toying with each other soon, and come to an arrangement?” Tasha asked pleasantly. “If you let me help you, we can get Myra back by noon tomorrow.”

While Jonas made a show of thinking it over, Twist could only think of Myra.  He was already half way to Paris to keep someone from taking her away, but now someone else entirely had done it.  He felt like the ground had suddenly gone out from under him.  He didn't know if she was safe, hurt, frightened, or even still alive.

“Stop playing games,” Twist began darkly, looking to Tasha. “Look me in the eye and tell me.  Can you lead me to Myra or not?” Jonas looked at him, his eyes gone pale green again.

Tasha looked back at Twist, as if searching for something in his eyes.  Then, she simply nodded and gave him a gentle smile. “I promise you I can.”

“Then what are we still doing here?” Twist grumbled, turning back the way they'd come.

Twist watched silently as Tasha shuffled the black playing cards in her bare, pale hands.  She'd assured him that they couldn't leave to follow after Myra until sunrise.  He loathed the idea of waiting, but had no other leads.  Her long fingernails flashed blood red in the dim firelight, but the black cards in her hands had no color at all of their own: each suit was demarcated with the traditional shapes, but all four suits were painted in silver.

“So,” Jonas asked, from the other side of the simple wooden table that was set on the sand near the warm camp fire, “what's a famous Russian celebrity doing here in the desert outside Suez with a Serbian, on the hunt for mythical Cyphers?”

Tasha smiled, looking to the cards in her hands. “No secrets after all, then?”

“I'm just making conversation,” Jonas said, sipping at his glass of deep, red wine.  The cloth canopy over the table billowed gently in the dull, dry wind.  “We've got time to kill, don't we?”  Niko rolled his eyes and glanced away at the softly crackling fire behind Tasha's chair, taking a drink of his own glass of wine.

A pair of Egyptian men glanced at the table from where they sat, on crates beside the few tents set up at the edge of the small camp.  The silver smoke from their long pipes wafted around their dark whiskered faces as they spoke softly together.  Their clothes were the color of the sand around them, and their eyes were as dark as the star-studded sky over head.  Twist snapped his eyes away before they caught him staring.

“We don't we play a game?” Tasha said, placing the deck of cards on the table before her, face down. “I'll read your fortune,” she said to Jonas, smiling up to his eyes.  He turned them to the wine glass in his hand before she could catch them. “Everything I get right will earn you an honest answer from me.  Every mistake earns you a lie.”

“How would we know if you're lying or not?” Jonas asked.

“That's why it's a game.”  Tasha's
patient smile began to look a bit thin.

“Don't you need different cards for fortune telling?” Twist asked, nodding at the deck on the table.

“These are fine,” she answered easily. “Shall we begin?”

“Knock yourself out,” Jonas answered flatly.

Twist focused on the constant electrical sensation that flowed through the base of his neck whenever Jonas was near, and sensed the slightest spark of curious interest hidden in the soft murmur, but no fear or worry at all.

Tasha nodded and closed her eyes, sitting perfectly straight.  She laid her hands open on her sateen-covered knees and took a deep, full breath.  Then she opened her eyes slowly and stared hard at Jonas.  His jaw tightened slightly and he pulled the black goggles down to cover his eyes, appearing to stare back at her now.  Tasha looked only slightly annoyed as she reached for the card on the top of the deck.

She turned it over and placed it face up on the table in front of her, and then peered at it thoughtfully.  Twist stared in disbelief at the card.  He had been certain—watching the cards shuffle smoothly in her hands—that they were all normal, albeit monochromatic playing cards of the traditional design.  But the card now lying face up on the table was painted elegantly in deep purple and shining gold, and bore a stylized design of a man holding a bundle of golden swords under a purple moon.

“The seven of swords,” Tasha said with a smile. “You feel under attack, or are afraid that someone will try to steal something from you.  It might be an item, or it might be information.”

“Really?” Jonas asked, his voice betraying nothing but pure sarcasm. “How ever could you know something like that?”

“Your turn,” Tasha said pleasantly. “If I just spoke the truth about you, then I will speak the truth again now.”

“Why are you hunting Cyphers when they don't exist?” Jonas asked.

“They do exist,” she began. “Whether or not they find information the way they say they do, they have made some very interesting discoveries.  I found out recently that they have a way of processing gold to give it the properties of lead.  I want to know how they do it.”

“Haven't people been trying to turn lead into gold since the middle ages?” Twist asked, frowning. “Why would anyone want to do the opposite?”

“She's a magician,” Jonas answered before she could speak again. “She probably wants it for a trick.”

“Shall I draw the next card?” she asked Jonas.  He gave a shrug and feigned disinterest.

Once again, Tasha drew a card from the deck, and once again the face of it was painted in purple and gold, and was nothing at all like the design of a normal playing card.  This one had the image of a knight in gleaming golden armor, with a purple star on his shield.  Tasha made a thoughtful tone.

“This one is yours,” she said to Twist. “The Knight of Pentacles indicates a personality type that is individual, fiercely intelligent, and yet unwilling to stand out or draw attention to himself.   Tell me, Mr. Twist, have you a skill with complex and intricate machines?”

Twist's mind instantly raced to find a logical reason why she could make such a guess about him.  Whatever trick she was using to change the cards into what she wanted them to be, the real problem was that she was getting close to truths with her so-called divinations.  He decided to stop watching the cards, and to watch her words instead.  He nodded slowly, giving nothing else in response.

“Wonderful,” she said, smiling with secrets flashing in her dark eyes. “Your turn.”

Jonas leaned forward and placed his wineglass on the table, staring at her through the opaque lenses over his eyes. “What's your Sight, Tasha?”  While Tasha's face didn't change at all, Niko's clearly showed shock as he stared at Jonas.

“Of course!” Twist breathed, already working to figure out what it might be.  That could be the simplest answer for her alarming amount of knowledge.

“I recognize reality,” she answered after a thoughtful pause.

“Not enough,” Jonas said, shaking his head. “Which sense does your Sight enhance?”

“That's two questions,” Tasha said smoothly.

“You didn't answer the first one properly,” Jonas said just as smoothly.

“Why can you look him in the eye, and no one else?” Tasha asked.  Though her gaze never moved from Jonas's sightless goggles, and she made no gestures or indications, Twist understood her meaning perfectly.  She must have noticed that Jonas would look in his eyes, but not in hers or Niko's.

“He's my half-brother,” Jonas said with every apparent sign of truth. “My Sight doesn't work on my family.”  Twist tried not to give any reaction at all to this glaring lie.

Tasha smiled. “My Sight affects my hearing,” she said sounding just as honest as before. “I can understand the language of badgers.”  At this, Twist frowned in confusion.

“Damn, you're good,” Jonas said, sitting back again. “I thought I sold that lie pretty well.”

“Sorry, handsome,” Tasha said, smiling at him darkly. “You're not good enough to fool me.  Would you like to try again?”  One of Jonas's eyebrows rose slightly, but he made no response.

“Wait, but how did you know what Jonas just said was a lie?” Twist asked her.  He felt somehow caught on the outside of the conversation, while Jonas and Tasha danced expertly around each other.

“You may both be from the same country, but you don't look nearly enough alike to be family,” Tasha answered. “What is your Sight, Twist?”  Twist moved back instantly, staring at her wide-eyed.  He was certain that he hadn't used it in her presence.  Only an instant later, Jonas snapped his fingers and pointed directly at Tasha's nose despite his current blindness.

“Details,” he said victoriously.

The moment the word left his mouth, the same thought filled Twist's mind.  She had seen him in the street, just after losing Myra, and realized that she could help him.  She had found the hidden door in the wall.  All along, she had referred to Myra as a person, as a friend, and never once as a thing, even though she knew Myra was made of metal.  She also instantly recognized her as the princess from the fairytale.

Every single thing that Tasha had done, said, or implied confirmed that she understood the truth of everything before her, as if she could see each detail and every tiny scrap of information at first glance.  She must have had a Sight that let her do just that.  There was no telling how much she could understand simply by looking at a person once.

“How in the hell...?” Niko gaped at Jonas.  Tasha appeared honestly astonished for a flashing instant, before her cool mask returned.

“What do I win?” Jonas asked, smiling.

“My respect,” Tasha said softly. “And my trust.  If you're this clever, then I could truly use your help with the Cyphers.  I was going to use you as unwitting decoys, but now I see that would be a waste.”

“Well, aren't you a charmer?” Jonas toned, obviously smarting and not trying to hide it.  “And if we trust you, what exactly should we expect to get for it?  Not to be used as bait, or a shield, either?”

“How about whatever help I can honestly give you to rescue your friend?” she asked in answer. “I know where she has to be, and I have the fastest possible way to get there,” she said, glancing to three large wooden crates sitting in the sand, which had not gone unnoticed by Twist. “As I said before, we can leave at dawn.  I'll do everything I can to be sure that your friend returns with all of us.”

“All right,” Jonas nodded, pausing thoughtfully. “Call me paranoid if you like, but I wouldn't mind a down payment of a little more information before we make any promises.”

“She knows where Myra is!” Twist snapped at him angrily. “We don't have—“

“Trust me,” Jonas said, reaching out to lay a hand on Twist's.  The flash of white fog that rushed into Twist's mind was followed closely by a strong feeling of caution.  Even though he didn't know the reason for it, the emotion alone was enough to quiet Twist. “More than just telling me that you can fix all my problems,” Jonas said to Tasha, “how about a little proof that you actually can.  I'm sorry, but you are a professional liar.”

“It's pronounced 'conjurer,' you know,” Tasha said, picking up her wine glass.  The  red-stoned ring on her finger made a high, thin sound against the glass.

“You know, it really is fun to talk with you,” Jonas said, smiling again. “You always know the cleverest thing to say.”

“You and I should try an actual dance someday,” she said back sweetly, before taking a sip of her wine.  “But if you'd please remove those goggles, you have to see this to understand.”

Jonas pulled his goggles up to his brow as Tasha turned her full attention to the deep-red wine that half-filled her glass.  She held it out in front of her and gave it a gentle swirl.  At first, Twist thought that the soft, amber glow in the dark liquid was coming from the firelight.  Then, as the wine continued to swirl slowly, steadily, around inside the glass even after she had stopped moving it, the light within in grew clearer and clearer until it became the unmistakable image of sand dunes gliding by as if seen from a bird's point of view.

The red of the wine became the open sky, and the land flew by, far below, within the glass.  Twist stared, mesmerized by the impossible illusion, until dark rocks, desert trees, and even a few running animals appeared in the sand.  Then the image stopped flying and turned in place, circling a large clump of dark rocks in the open desert.

“Just so you know,” Jonas said to Twist, not taking his eyes off the glass, “the way that trick works is really far more impressive than it looks.”  Niko smirked slightly.

“Please don't ever come to one of my shows,” Tasha said with a sigh. “Or if you do, don't speak.  Now,” she said before Jonas could voice his retort, “this rock is the only surface entrance into this Cypher den.  Naturally, they have many such dens.  I have been told by my sources that this is the place where I can get what I need.  But as you can see this place looks nothing like an entrance to anything.”

“Well, except for that cleft right there,” Jonas said, pointing at a shadow in the rock that looked like nothing of the sort to Twist, as the image continued to slowly spin in the glass. “And that other one too.”

“Now you're just showing off,” Niko muttered, crossing his arms.

“No more than you, Sparky” Jonas replied. “I assume you have something to do with making that ring.  It looks like the same style of flashy and ridiculous technology you use.”