In the morning, Twist awoke to find a huge, sapphire sea stretched out below his windows while the airship sped quickly through a clear and empty blue sky. For many reasons, the events of the day before were a jumbled blur in his mind. Some of it was so strange to him that he wondered if it wasn't all just a fractured dream.

  He was only partly dressed when Arabel knocked on his door. He quickly threw a waistcoat over his mostly buttoned shirt, and made sure his trousers were properly fastened, before he opened the door just enough to peer out.

  “Are you only just getting up?” Arabel asked, looking at the sliver of him that she could see. “You missed breakfast, so I was coming to invite you to lunch.”

  “I’m sorry,” he muttered, glancing down at himself. A draft at his throat caught his attention, and he reached up to finish buttoning his collar. “I've never been very good with time.”

  “You?” Arabel asked, almost laughing. “I thought you spent all your time with clocks.”

  Twist's mouth twitched with annoyance as he fastened the last button. No one ever missed that parallel. To his shock, Arabel seemed to take his moment of distraction as an invitation. She nudged his door open while his hands were occupied and let herself into his cabin. Twist backed away instantly and then turned his back to hurriedly tuck his shirt into his trousers. Arabel shut the door behind her.

  “I mean, really,” she went on easily, “I'd expect you to be practically obsessed with time.”

  “I never read clocks,” he said, running his hands through his mess of hair to little effect. He turned to face her stiffly, hoping that he now looked at least slightly presentable, and found her leaning against his closed door with a smile that looked somehow out of place on her face. “I just like the way they work. They're calm and constant.”

  “You're not having that much fun on this trip, are you?” Arabel asked, almost softly. Twist looked back at her silently and wondered why she was so intent on being in his cabin. He'd never read of a woman so brazen in any of his novels. She seemed to wait for his reply.

  “I'm not here to have fun,” Twist answered finally. “I'm just trying to stay somewhere near sane until we get to Nepal,” he said and looked away to see where his scarf had gotten to. To his complete surprise, Arabel took hold of the front of his unbuttoned waistcoat and caught his full attention in the process.

  “As much as you might like to think so, you're not a machine, love,” Arabel said, her voice cold under tiring pleasantries. “Your heart doesn't tick, does it?” she asked, giving his chest a glance. Twist felt it beat faster under her attention.

  “Mine probably does, actually” Twist said, jerking his waistcoat out of her grasp and taking another step away. “What difference does it make to you, anyway? We only just met. You don't even know me. Why must you demand that I enjoy myself?”

  Arabel held his sharp gaze with a sternness of her own. “I hate to see anyone bottle themselves up. It doesn't matter who you are; it's not healthy.”

  “I'm quite all right,” Twist said, buttoning his waistcoat. “I haven't been this far away from home in my life, and I'm letting you drag me around, to some extent. Believe me, that's much more than I would usually allow.”

  “Then why are you allowing it now?” Arabel asked as if the words tasted sour.

  Twist took a breath in silent pause. The world seemed to still in the light of his answer. “You are my only way to her.”

  “A girl made of clockwork,” Arabel said coldly, nodding curtly. “I imagine she would be your vision of female perfection.”

  Twist stared at her clearly offended expression in bewilderment. He felt a confusion and fear that he couldn't identify, and sensed that he needed to do something, quickly. What needed to be done, however, was totally beyond his comprehension.

  “Well, shall we go eat?” Arabel took an impatient breath and gave him a tight, thin smile.

  Twist went with her and met the others, not wanting to anger her further. Today, everyone seemed to have returned to their usual carefree selves, even after the hasty flight from Venice. Though there had been light cloud cover through the night, and there was still a large bank of clouds sitting on the horizon to the north, there had been no evidence of any other airships following their path over the Black Sea. Aazzi had finally lifted the extra security, and the crew had begun to relax shortly after sunrise. By now, they seemed to have all but forgotten about it.

  “Besides,” Zayle explained to Twist over a hearty lunch, “it's likely that Quay was in Venice by sheer coincidence.”

  “Lots of people go there for Carnival,” Aazzi said with a nod.

  “If they weren't looking for us,” Zayle continued, “then they might not have any idea that we were even there.”

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  “We're too far away now, as well,” Captain Davis said, inspecting his half-eaten chicken leg. “Quay has no idea where we're headed. Without that, all he could possibly know is that we stopped in Venice for the festivities and left.”

  “Why George?” Twist asked.

  “What?” Zayle asked.

  “Why did you call me George?” Twist asked, leaning forward on the table. “You all suddenly decided to change my name. Why?”

  “In case someone heard us talking,” Dr. Rodés said. “We decided on the story when we picked you up, in case we had to hide you.”

  “Why hide me at all?” Twist asked. “How would it be dangerous for someone to know my name?”

  “Quay has powerful friends,” Arabel said darkly. “Magical ones too.” Twist gave her an incredulous look. Arabel leaned closer, speaking more earnestly. “They have ways of knowing things that they shouldn't. Simply hearing your real name could put you in danger. Besides, there are rumors about you all over,” she added, as if he should have known.

  “I have a reputation out of London?” Twist asked, frowning at the thought.

  “Well, yeah,” Arabel said easily. “But if anyone knew that we went all the way to London to get you, they might be able to figure out at least what we are after. Quay knows us too well. He'd certainly be able to figure it out.”

  “So, you frequently cross the world looking for mechanical people?” Twist asked.

  “We hunt treasure of all kinds,” Captain Davis said. “But mechanical people is a new one.”

  “Once I found out she was real,” Arabel said, smiling to herself, “I just had to see her.”

  “Ara usually brings us our best finds,” Captain Davis said, looking at his niece fondly.

  The lunch continued at a casual pace. Once everyone was finished eating, they drifted off to attend to various tasks, leaving Twist on his own once again. He took up his now-favorite place, at the bow of the ship, and watched as the Black Sea glided along underneath him. Eventually, the sea came to an end in a mountainous, green country. Clouds still lingered to the north, while vast copper-and-gold deserts stretched to the southern horizon.

  Twist let his over-taxed mind drift in the cool air, gazing out at the next large body of water that approached from the distance. His thoughts found their way back to his home in London, now almost half a world away as the airship carried him over the western edge of Asia. His clocks must still be ticking calmly in the empty rooms, his mirrors reflecting nothing but the gray rain light that fell through the windows. While much of him yearned for the peace of his quiet, chilly rooms and London's soot-stained drizzling sky, part of him was rather entranced with the vista before him.

  A great, green sea spilled slowly over the world below, stretching out to the north and south farther than Twist could see. The huge piles of white cloud to the north came to a point, almost reaching out to him from the pure-blue sky. As Twist watched, something appeared at the tip of the cloud—now close beside the ship—and it soon became clear enough to identify as another, much smaller airship. It was slim, two-decked, and fitted with large, vertical sails on either side of a single tall balloon hanging above the deck.

  The Vimana suddenly plunged, turning to the south. Twist clung tightly to the rail as a siren bellowed and the sound of shouting filled the air. Turning, Twist saw Aazzi, Dr. Rodés, and Arabel all appear on the deck with weapons in hand. Small, winged crafts flew from the small airship, arcing through the air towards them.

  “Twist!” Arabel yelled. “Get below decks!”

  “What's happening?” Twist yelled, hurrying closer to her.

  “We're under attack,” she said, checking her pistol and watching the sky.

  Twist looked to the smaller crafts. Streams of white steam spewed out behind the winged things—coming closer, Twist saw that they were people with wings and steam engines strapped to their backs, flying like birds and heading right for the Vimana. One of them crashed onto the deck, tossing off the contraption and pulling out a pair of pistols, while two other flying people streamed around the ship in tight arcs.

  “We want the clock maker!” yelled the landed intruder. “Give him up!”

  In answer, Aazzi started shooting at him, running closer. Arabel yelled at Twist to run before turning to join the fight herself. Noise and chaos erupted in all directions: flaming fire began to rain down from the smaller airship, the flying men fired pistols as they flew by, the crew of the Vimana returned fire from the deck, Zayle appeared with large wrenches in each hand to strike at the fliers as they flew too close, Arabel took to the rigging with her own weapons, Aazzi ran from target to target at lightning and inhuman speeds as more fliers appeared and tried to board the ship.

  Twist ran for the stairs below decks, but one of the fliers crashed onto the deck in front of him, blocking him. The man didn't remove his wings, but he reached out to grab Twist with both hands. Twist jumped away from him, only to fall over a bit of debris on the deck. Aazzi appeared out of nowhere and shot at the flier until he jumped over the side of the ship. She grabbed Twist's collar and hauled him to his feet, throwing him towards the stairs before turning to fire again.

  The airship lurched to the left, throwing Twist to the railing. His vision fell to see the green sea now less than a hundred feet below the ship. He struggled to regain his footing and hurry below decks when he heard Arabel scream.

  “No! That's Jon!” she yelled, grabbing Dr. Rodés's gun as he took aim.

  Twist looked to see a man with wings running at him across the deck. The buzzing sensation at the base of Twist's neck reappeared, stilling him for an instant. The man wore black goggles that hid his eyes, but he pulled them off as he ran closer to Twist.

  “Twist! Run!” Aazzi's voice yelled from across the ship.

  Twist tore his eyes off his attacker and dove from the stairs. The other man was too fast and his hands caught Twist's arm. In the instant before his Sight took over, Twist looked up at the other man, meeting his brilliant green eyes.

  The electric sensation in the base of his neck exploded into white-hot fire, throwing Twist off the deck and into the air with a strong concussion. The other man flew away from him while impossible light broke over them both and the force of the blast threw them apart. Twist's overwhelmed senses had only a moment to tell him he was falling through open air, before everything went black, silent, and still.