Clockwork Twist : Waking (14 page)

“He moved!”

“Is he coming around?”

“He's stopped glowing.”

“What does that mean?”

Twist followed the frantic voices back to consciousness, clawing his way out of the darkness.  He finally found out how to blink his eyes open to find his vision blurred in stark, sharp light.  Many figures were crowded close around him and the growing buzz of Jonas's prescience grew clearer than any other sense.

“Oh thank God,” Jonas's voice said with a relieved exhale.

“That's it, come back to us, Twist,” Arabel said from close beside him.

“I'm fine,” Twist said on a voice that felt far weaker than usual.

“Really, stop saying that when you don't mean it,” Jonas snapped.

“I'm so sorry,” Aazzi's voice said, sounding weak as well.

Twist pushed himself up on his arms and sensed the others moving back to let him sit up.  Everyone was crowded closely around him on the dusty floor of the main hall, and they all looked seriously concerned.

“What's the matter?” Twist asked, looking around at them all.

“You wouldn't wake up,” Aazzi said, standing now with her arms wrapped tightly folded over her chest. “I stopped watching for only a moment.  When I came back...  I could hear your heart beating, but I couldn't wake you up.”  To Twist's shock, she seemed terrified.

“You were glowing like crazy,” Jonas said. “What happened to you?”

“I saw the princess,” Twist said, looking down to the clockwork puppet. “I talked with her.  Touched her.”

“You must have fallen asleep,” Arabel said. “It's almost midnight.”

“Then the ghost took control of your dream while I wasn't watching,” Aazzi said.

“It's all right,” Twist said to Aazzi, giving her a light smile. “It was a wonderful dream.”  Looking up proved to be a significant drain on Twist's tired muscles, and his head fell as his vision blurred again.  He tried to blink it clear.

“This is way too dangerous,” Jonas said darkly. “Come on, let's get him out of here.”

“I'm just tired,” Twist tried to say, but his voice barely made it over his lips.

“You're pushing your Sight to its limit,” Jonas said, kneeling down and leaning close enough to push the electric buzz into a high whining pulse down Twist's spine. “You're a wreck.  Stop saying you're fine!”

Twist's resistance failed entirely and he wrapped both hands around his neck, curling up against the pulsing, screaming energy.  A small moan escaped him before everything fell back into blackness.

It felt like a very long time before he woke up again.  He found himself in his cabin, bathed in sunlight and covered with warm, soft blankets.  This time, his vision came back to him clearly, and his thoughts were calm, easy to control, and understandable.  Looking around, he also found Zayle sitting at his desk, reading a small book.  The motion of looking around the room pushed his hammock to sway ever so gently.  Zayle looked up at the motion.

“Oh good!” Zayle said, coming closer. “I was starting to wonder if you'd ever wake up.  How do you feel?”

“Don't tell Jonas, but I feel fine,” Twist said, running a hand over his brow.

“Humor.  That's a very good sign,” Zayle said with a smile. “Any pain or dizziness?”

“No,” Twist said, searching his senses to be sure. “Honestly, everything just feels sort of numb.  And quiet.”

“Are you hungry?  Thirsty?” Zayle asked as he held his fingers up close to Twist's forehead.  Twist readied himself to jerk away, but Zayle was careful not to actually touch him and then pulled away quickly.

“I am a bit thirsty, now that you mention it,” Twist said, relaxing again when Zayle took his hand away.

“You're not warm anymore,” Zayle said, reaching for a glass and pitcher that sat nearby. “You were for most of yesterday.  Philippe said it wasn't dangerous as long as you didn't get any warmer, but he was worried about it.”

“Wait, yesterday?” Twist asked, automatically taking the offered glass of water as he propped himself up on one elbow in the curve of the hammock. “How long have I been asleep?”

“A day and a half.”

“What?” Twist asked, staring at him in shock.

“Philippe has been checking on you the whole time,” Zayle said quickly. “He said it looked like you were simply exhausted and that you'd wake up when you recovered.  And you have!” He added brightly.

“Why would I be so exhausted?” Twist asked, frowning into space.

“Jonas thinks it's because you're overusing your Sight,” Zayle offered. “Ara says it's because you never eat or sleep like you should.  Aazzi said it could be the result of everything that's happened to you since you left London with us.”

“Damn...” Twist sighed, before he took a long drink of water.  It was the most delicious, most refreshing thing he'd ever tasted. “I've been busy, haven't I?”

“I'm going to tell Philippe you woke up,” Zayle said.  He took the empty glass from Twist. “Just take it easy.  I'll be right back.”

Twist lay back again and gave a sigh once Zayle had left.  It felt like it had been a long time since his mind was this empty.  There were no visions lurking in the back of his mind, and no haunting emotions in the sun warmed air of his cabin.  The silence felt hollow and unnerving.  He was relieved to see Dr. Rodés return with Zayle.

“Welcome back,” Dr. Rodés said, looking at him critically. “How do you feel?”

“Honestly?” Twist said, putting on a thoughtful face. “I haven't a clue.  Just numb.  I think I'm all right.”

“Are you in any pain?” Dr. Rodés asked. “Do you feel dizzy or weak at all?”

“Not a bit of it,” Twist said with a shrug. “Are you sure I've been asleep for over a day?”

“That's the only thing about your condition that I am sure of,” he said, reaching out quickly to Twist's forehead.  Twist jerked away instantly, looking at the man wearily. “It's very difficult to treat a patient whom I can't even touch,” he sighed.

“We all have our cross to bear,” Twist muttered, still watching him.

“Jonas's theory seems reasonable,” Dr. Rodés said. “You should avoid using your Sight for at least another day.”

“But I can't work on the puppet without using my Sight,” Twist said, frowning.

“Then you will have to put off your work until you are recovered.”

“No, no, I can't do that,” Twist said quickly. “I told her I wouldn't leave her.  I've been gone a whole day already.  If I'm not back soon she'll think I broke my promise.”

“The machine will understand, I'm sure,” Dr. Rodés said flatly.

“The
princess
,” Twist said, sitting up now. “I talked to her in a dream.  But it was really her.  I'm sure of it.  I have to get back to her as soon as possible.”

“Lay back down,” Dr. Rodés said, reaching out a hand.  Twist leaned away from his touch, but the effect was the same. “You're to stay in bed for the rest of the day, or at least here on the ship.  We'll talk about when you're getting back to work, tomorrow.”

“Why?” Twist snapped back. “Have you forgotten that this is why we're all here?”

“We'll all be here for nothing if you kill yourself by pushing too far, too fast,” Dr. Rodés said, his voice strangely unemotional. “Don't let him out of the room,” he said to Zayle as he turned to leave.  His absence left the room silent again.

“This is madness,” Twist said after a moment of staring at the ceiling.

“He's probably right, though,” Zayle said softly.  Twist gave nothing but a sigh in response. “You shouldn't spend so much time with Jonas,” Zayle added. “You're turning into him.”

Twist looked indignantly at Zayle.  Zayle seemed somehow disappointed with Twist's response, and so turned away and returned to his seat at the desk without retort.  After another hour of doing nothing at all, restlessness set in hard.  Twist finally convinced Zayle that he wouldn't make any attempts at escape if Zayle left for a moment to call Aazzi to see him.

As soon as Zayle was out of the room, Twist got himself relatively respectable.  Being dressed again in a clean, cool, white cotton shirt and his simple black trousers, felt better than he'd expected, but Twist was surprised to find his feet somewhat unsteady on the floor.  Though his mind was clear and ready, his body seemed to still be fatigued somehow.

He was sitting in the chair at the desk and rubbing at his stiff neck when Aazzi opened the door and stepped into the room.  She stayed well back from Twist, and kept her eyes away from him.  Her expression was as hesitant as her manner.

“You wanted to see me?” she asked, her voice braced against his answer.

“Yes,” Twist said slowly as he tried to make sense of her. “I need your help.”

Aazzi gave a mirthless laugh. “Are you sure you really want mine?”

“Next to me,” Twist said, “you are the most aware of the ghost in the palace.  She may listen to you.  I need you to explain to her what happened to me, so that she won't believe that I've broken my promise and abandoned her.”  As he spoke, Aazzi's silver eyes finally found him.

“Then it was the ghost that hurt you,” she said, hollow and soft. “It used your Sight to...”

Twist frowned. “How many conversations are we having?  Because I'm only aware of the one.”  Aazzi seemed to snap out of her thoughts and looked away from him again. “Please, Aazzi, can you help me?” Twist asked. “I know it sounds mad, but I actually spoke with the princess.  I barely got her to trust me when you all tried to pull me back.  She didn't want to let me go, but I promised I wouldn't leave her for long.  I just don't want her to misunderstand.”

“So, you want me to tell the ghost that you're coming back?” Aazzi said.

“Yes, exactly.”

“That you'll be at her mercy once again, even after what she did to you.”

“Well...” Twist muttered.

“I should tell the ghost that you'd be back there right now if we weren't all afraid for your life,” Aazzi said before he could finish.

“Now, just a minute,” Twist said, getting to his feet.

“I told you I could hear your heartbeat,” Aazzi said, locking Twist's eyes in her own cold, silver gaze. “But it was not stable.  I've never heard a heartbeat that weak.  Not one that didn't fail immediately afterward.  Do you understand that she was killing you?”

Twist stared back at her silently, stilled now.

“Yes, she is a wonderful treasure,” Aazzi said, visibly trying to soften her words. “A myth become real.  But she is already dead.  Is it worth your life to bring her back into this world?”

“Aazzi, what is this about?” Twist asked softly.  She stared back at him silently.  Looking in her eyes, it was obvious to Twist that her mind was raging. “I didn't ask you to protect me,” Twist said, playing the most likely gamble. “I'm thankful that you did.  It gave me a chance to make some real progress.”

“But I didn't,” she replied, sounding hollow again. “I failed utterly.”

“Far from it,” Twist said, relieved at his lucky guess. “You did me a great service.  Honestly, I'm even thankful that you left when you did.”

Aazzi bristled and opened her mouth to respond, but Twist stepped closer quickly, with a wide smile on his face.

“That moment with the princess, it was worth it all, just to speak with her.  I could touch her in my dream,” he said, looking to the memory of the princess on his hands. “I've never touched anyone in my life.  Not without fear.  Not even in my dreams.  She was exactly as I knew she would be,” he said, smiling up to Aazzi's uncertainty. “Thank you for giving me that.”

It took a moment for Aazzi to accept this before she finally nodded.

“So, please,” Twist said, pulling himself back to normal, “go and tell her that I'm still here, and that I'll be back to finish her puppet as soon as I can.”

“All right,” Aazzi said. “I will.  But...” she paused, still watching Twist carefully.

“I'll be careful,” Twist said. “I promise.”

Still looking somewhat uncertain, Aazzi left Twist in his cabin.  He sat down again heavily, having found it increasingly difficult to stay on his feet.  Silence set in once again, setting his nerves on edge.  Thankfully, Arabel appeared soon after, with a plate of food.  She sat with him as he ate, talking brightly about many things that had little to do with anything important.  Twist nodded or made encouraging tones occasionally, happy to have something to chase away the silence.