Twist worked on as time dragged long and silently around him. The ghost seemed to grow more active, drawing more and more of Aazzi's attention, as the night deepened. Twist eventually stopped paying attention to anything beyond the detailed and delicate work of repairing the extensive damage. He didn't notice at all as the air around him grew cold, and the light of the candle dimmed below that of the late, thin, new moon that poured through the broken windows.

  A hand, small and gentle, fell to rest lightly on his arm with a frigid cold that soaked through his coat to chill his skin. Twist braced against the vision he expected from the touch, but nothing came. His mind remained still, drowned as it was in the tiny visions he got from the clockwork in his hands.

  “What are you doing?” a voice asked from close beside him: youthful, sweet, and deeply familiar to his imagination.

  Twist looked up to see a face his heart knew well, but his eyes had never seen. Just a few year into adulthood, beautiful and untouched by time, the fairytale princess of his imagination looked at him curiously through shining black eyes as she sat at his side. Her delicate, pale fingers lingered on his arm, and still no vision came. In his total astonishment, it took Twist far too long to realize that the girl beside him was human, and not the clockwork puppet that lay on the floor. He stared, mesmerized by the childlike beauty of her face, the long, soft tail of shining black hair that hung from the crown of her head to the floor, and the glittering pink silks that wrapped her slight form in flowing wafts.

  “Do you speak?” she asked, smiling slightly.

  “I, well…yes but,” Twist muttered as his thoughts struggled to grasp some form of meaning. He looked down to see the still-unfinished clockwork puppet on the floor before him. “I'm trying to fix you,” he said softly.

  “That puppet is broken,” the princess said coldly. “It's not me.”

  Looking back up, Twist began to understand. “You're the ghost.”

  “No, I'm me,” the girl said as if he were being silly. “To be a ghost, you have to die. I never have.”

  “But you're haunting this place,” Twist said, trying desperately to hold his thoughts together in the face of her enchanting smile.

  “You're funny,” she said, smiling deeper. “Who are you?” she asked, reaching up and toying idly with the soft curls behind his ear. The chill of her touch sent a shiver down Twist's spine, but still no vision came. For a moment, he lost himself in the foreign sensation of her harmless touch.

  “Twist,” he said, finally. “My name is Twist.”

  “That's a nice name. Where are you from?” she asked, a curious expression on her face as she wrapped a lock of his hair around her finger.

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  “London,” he said, holding utterly still for fear she might take her hands away from him.

  “Where's that?” she asked brightly. “Is it far away?”

  “Very far. It's on the other side of Europe.”

  “Europe?” the girl asked with a wide smile. “Oh, that is far away. And you came all this way just to fix my puppet?”

  “I have,” he said, surprised at his own pride. “I should be finished soon. Then you will be able to return to it.”

  Her smile faded and she leaned closer still, staring into his eyes and holding very tight to his arm with both hands. “You mean that I will be able to dance again?” she asked softly, her eyes pleading with his.

  “I'm sure you will,” he said, his heart now racing under her intense attention.

  “That's wonderful!” she cried in glee, wrapping him in her arms. Stunned and reduced to nothing but pure instinct, Twist's hands found her slight waist and he held her gently. Her body felt real and solid in his arms, but her skin was as cold as ice.

  “You are wonderful, too,” the princess said, pulling back just enough to smile at him with her cold arms still around his neck. “I can't wait to dance again!” she said, falling into a happy, bubbly laugh.

  Twist watched silently, totally lost in her. He no longer cared how she was here. He didn't care if this was real or a dream. All he wanted was to stay in her arms and watch her joy. It seemed sweeter to him than any happiness he had ever felt before.

  “Twist?” another voice called from far away, echoing off the walls. It sounded frightened, but Twist couldn't imagine why. The princess jerked, looking around.

  “What is that?” she asked, pulling herself close against Twist and fitting her head into the crook of his neck. “Is it the others? I don't like them! Make them leave!”

  “It's all right,” Twist said, holding her. “They won't hurt you.”

  “Twist!” the voice called out again, still sounding frightened and frantic. “Wake up!”

  “Make them leave!” the princess said again, her voice edged with tears. “I won't give you up. You're not like them. I want you to stay with me.”

  “This is a dream,” Twist said, mostly to himself. “They are worried for me,” he said gently, pulling his lips closer to her ear. “Let me tell them that I'm all right. I won't leave you. I promise.”

  The princess pulled away to look in his eyes, searching them uncertainly.

  “Trust me,” Twist said, stroking the soft silk on her back. “I've crossed half the world just to help you. I only need to talk to them for a moment.”

  “You promise,” she said, still uncertain. “If you lie, I'll never forgive you.”

  “I'd never lie to you,” Twist said, smiling softly. “It would break my heart.”

  She smiled slightly, looking somewhat convinced. She got to her feet and stepped away as the rest of the world fell totally black. In the absence of her, a familiar electrical sensation burned to life, far away in the unknown blackness. Twist caught it and pulled hard, following it back into the light.