Clockwork Twist : Missing by Emily Thompson

you got a year?” Twist paused, unsure if he was supposed to respond, but Skye gave a sigh. “The quick version is that I stole something from Aden. He was so impressed he offered me a job.”
    “I see…” Twist silently wondered if Aden ever turned a profit. “What did you steal? If you don’t mind my asking.”
    “A Bengal tiger cub,” she said easily.
    Twist stared at her in shock. Skye laughed again.
    “Told you it was a long story,” she said with a clever grin. “Would it help if I told you that I grew up in a circus?”
    “Actually, yes,” Twist said as evenly as he could. “I think this is the one situation where that information would ease my confusion.”
    “I get the feeling I’m confusing you a hell of a lot,” Skye said sheepishly. “Sorry, sugar, I’m not trying to, you know.”
    Twist took a thoughtful breath. He needed to say something now, if they were going to have anything close to a proper conversation.
    “Don’t take this the wrong way,” he said, leaning closer as if to impart a secret, “but on top of the bizarre things that you have a tendency to say, I’m afraid that you talk like an American, my dear. I feel I need a phrase book.”
    A thoroughly delighted laugh bubbled out of her, blooming like a flower. “You’re the funniest little guy, ever!” she declared at the end of it. “I’m so glad Aden gave me your case. I’m gonna hav’ta spend more time with you on this trip!”
    “Who’s up there?” yelled a gruff voice from below.
    “Crap!” Skye yelped. “Let’s beat it!”
    Twist stared at her, unable to make heads or tails of any of her words.
    “We should run away now,” she said slowly, with appropriate hand gestures.
    “Hey!” yelled the gruff voice again, this time revealing its owner as one of the coal-blackened crew as he climbed up onto the walkway. “You’re not allowed in here!”
    Skye reached out to grab Twist’s hand. Twist’s heart leaped into his throat to see her hand so close to his, jolting him into motion before she could touch him. He rushed for the stairs as Skye followed close behind. As the worker hurried after them, Skye bolted ahead and took the lead. It was all Twist could do just to keep up with her as she bounded down a set of stairs and along another thin walkway, back toward the entry door. She laughed to herself gleefully as the worker, following at a run, yelled for them to stop.
    In moments, they were back at the slightly open door. She burst through, Twist still with her, and they ran down the hallway, rushing out onto the somewhat busy promenade deck. Twist’s chest burned from the effort of running so hard, causing him to pause just outside the door. He leaned back against the wall near the door while Skye stood still beside him and scanned the light crowd on the deck with keen eyes.
    “Excuse me,” Skye said to someone else.
    She suddenly wrapped a bright-yellow scarf around Twist’s neck, while a hat he didn’t own appeared on his head. When he looked up, there was a dashing, silk top hat now on Skye’s head. She took a tight grip of the scarf around his neck and pulled him into the crowd.
    “Wait, what—?” was all Twist managed to say before he found himself surrounded by people yet again.
    “Shut it, and blend,” Skye whispered to him, now walking calmly beside him and away from the doorway.
    “What?” Twist demanded. “Shut what? Blend what with what?”
    “They are looking for us,” she said to him, speaking tightly and enunciating slowly. “Shut your mouth and try to blend into the crowd.”
    “Ah,” Twist toned, fighting the urge to look back. “Thank you for translating.”
    “You got it, sugar,” she said, smiling again.
    Twist suppressed the urge to ask what it was that she thought he “got,” in favor of quietly wondering why every American young woman he met insisted on calling him “sugar.”
     
     

 

     
     
    After managing to blend into the crowd well enough to evade