Clockwork Twist : Missing by Emily Thompson Page A

capture, Skye and Twist came to a stop in their innocent-looking promenade around the open deck. Skye reached up to take the yellow scarf back from Twist’s neck—while he froze in fright—and then paused, looking at him in the ever-so-slowly failing light of the almost-constant sunset. Twist, feeling suddenly terribly awkward to be stared at, shifted on his feet.
    “I really don’t know what I was thinking,” Skye said, shaking her head. She reached up to snatch the hat off of his head. “You look horrible in a derby. Here, try this,” she said, quickly moving the stolen top hat from her head to his.
    “Will you stop that?” Twist shouted suddenly, watching her hands move far too close to him for what felt like the millionth time.
    “What?” Skye asked, her eyes innocent and reproachful, the bowler now on her head at a fetching angle.
    Twist took a moment to focus on getting his heart to slow down again. “Please, try not to touch me. I have a Sight. It’s…very distressing to be touched.” He took the top hat off as he spoke, grateful for any reason to glance away from her eyes.
    “Oh,” Skye said, her voice softer now. Twist looked back to her, expecting to find fear, pity, or even rebuke. To his shock, her expression was merely curious. “I’ve never heard of a Sight that the owner didn’t want to use.”
    “I’m…different,” Twist muttered uneasily. Even the kindest word still sounded like “freak” to his ears. Only Jonas could call him that.
    Skye smiled. “Buddy, you’ve got to own that.”
    Twist frowned and looked to the hat in his hands.
    “No, no,” Skye said through a laugh. “I mean, if you’re a freak and you know it, you have to be proud of it. You can’t let yourself feel ashamed of being outside the norm. I started my life as a circus clown. I know a thing or two about weirdness.”
    Twist could only stare back at her, while her words ignited a wholly new thought in his mind. Not once in his life had he ever considered his own strangeness as anything to be proud of. People had called him a freak all his life, either in words or simply in the way they looked at him. But Jonas had made the word into his own private, affectionate term for Twist. Perhaps he had been thinking along the same lines as Skye.
    “I thought you wanted to be alone,” a new voice said from beside them. Skye and Twist turned to see Arabel standing there with a suspicious chill to her face.
    “I went to the engine room…” Twist began, meaning to continue.
    “Love the boots!” Skye said suddenly, pointing to Arabel’s feet.
    “Thank you,” Arabel said, a smile appearing on her face. Skye smiled back at her brightly. “Skye, isn’t it?” Arabel asked. “I haven’t seen you in days. Where’ve you been hiding?”
    “Oh, you know,” Skye said lightly. “Rafters, closets, dustbins…here and there.” Arabel stared back at her, obviously unsure how to respond.
    “She was hiding in the engine room, too, when I found her,” Twist offered. Arabel nodded slowly. He leaned closer to Arabel and shielded his voice with a hand. “And on a side note, she’s only said about four things so far that I’ve totally understood.” A smile twitched onto Arabel’s face. Skye laughed.
    “Stuffy little limey,” she shot at him, as if fondly, though Twist struggled to figure out how something like that could be said fondly. “But you know,” she went on, looking to Arabel now, “my orders only mentioned Myra and Twist. I never caught your name.”
    “Arabel Davis,” she said, offering Skye a handshake. “I’m a treasure hunter.”
    “Exciting…” Skye said admiringly, shaking her hand. “Find anything really neat recently?”
    “I found Myra, actually,” Arabel said proudly. “My Sight lets me find anything.”
    “Nice!” Skye exclaimed, looking highly impressed. “I’ll bet that comes in handy. Do you ever lose your keys?”
    Arabel laughed and shook her head.
    “And what about