Clockwork Twist : Missing by Emily Thompson Page B

you?” Arabel asked pleasantly. “I heard something about you being from a circus…”
    “Oh yeah. Great fun. I still remember all my Shakespeare.”
    “Shakespeare?” Twist asked.
    “Sure,” Skye said with a shrug. “I mean, yeah, these days clowns are mostly doing pratfalls and stupid stuff, but when I was a kid we used to recite literature between acts.”
    Twist listened carefully, picking her swift speech apart for meaning. “I see,” he said, finally. “I’ve never been to a circus.” The moment the words left his mouth, he feared that they might offend her.
    “Really? Why not?” Skye asked quickly, almost snapping.
    Twist looked at her in mild fright. “Oh, well…I just…” There was a flash of fire in her eyes, but it didn’t look exactly like anger to Twist.
    Skye leaned closer to him with narrowed eyes. “You got something against the circus, townie?” Something in her voice—something subtle and hidden—wasn’t threatening at all.
    “Nothing of the sort,” Twist said quickly as he took a step away and raised his hands defensively, trying to look frightened. “Please don’t hit me!” He turned his face away as well, to hide the smile on it.
    Skye brandished a fist at him, obviously struggling not to smile herself. “Watch it, sugar! I’ve got pies, and I know how to use them!” A snicker got away from Twist. He dropped his defense slightly to look at her.
    “Where are you hiding them?”
    Skye crossed her arms and took on a lofty pose. “A girl’s got to have her secrets.” Twist snickered again.
    “Are you…playing?” Arabel asked slowly.
    “Yeah,” Skye said flatly. “Why? He’s not the playing type or something?” Twist pulled himself back into a more normal position as she spoke, feeling rather pleased with his intuition.
    “So, where’s Myra?” he asked loudly, before Arabel could answer.
    “Oh, she was talking to someone,” Arabel said, glancing behind her. “I thought they were just behind me…”
    A quick search revealed Myra to be standing in the center of a circle of men, each of them staring at her in varying states of wonder and contemplation. Twist and the others quietly fitted into the edge of the loose circle.
    “Then it must be radio waves,” said one of the men.
    “No, I am the puppeteer,” Myra said with a gesture to herself. Her tone betrayed impatience. “No one else is controlling me.”
    “It has to be radio waves,” said another man. “There is no other feasible way to control the limbs and send the voice at the same time.” Myra gave a sigh and shook her head.
    “The sound could be sent by radio,” said yet another man, “but the limbs could be controlled separately by a complex use of magnetism.”
    “Twist, darling!” Myra said suddenly when she noticed his arrival, and moved closer to him. “Will you please explain to these silly engineers what I am?” she asked, gesturing to the crowd around her.
    “To be accurate, that would take a great deal of time,” Twist answered.
    “I thought you were that fairytale princess,” Skye said to Myra easily.
    “Yes, I am,” Myra gasped, nodding quickly.
    “Yeah, so you’re alive,” Skye said, glancing to the men who were now watching her with uncertain eyes. “She’s not a puppet. She’s a person.”
    “Exactly!” Myra said eagerly. “Thank you. Yes. I’m a person,” she added to the crowd.
    “Of course,” Twist said gently, taking her hand to give it a supportive squeeze. She smiled at him gratefully, while his Sight tingled with her vindication.
    “Are you the puppeteer, then?” one of the men asked Twist brightly. “It’s a fantastic illusion. How do you do it?” Myra shot him an icy glare as her emotions froze over, cold and sharp, in Twist’s Sight.
    “Magnets, right?” another added with a wink.
    “A magician never reveals his tricks,” Twist answered loftily. He saw Myra’s wounded expression, but reached out to put his arm around her shoulders as he