Clockwork Twist : Missing by Emily Thompson

Author:Emily Thompson [Thompson, Emily]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-11-17T08:00:00+00:00

After another highly social day, Twist lay in bed, unable to sleep. Somehow, spending time with people only made the dark and empty room around him seem colder. His mind wandered every time he tried to sleep, until he found himself staring at the ceiling again, working useless bits of thought into a tangled mess. He and Storm had only seen the spaceship and dragons in dreams—could they be nothing more than dreams? Would they work uselessly on that idea and so never find Jonas? What was Storm’s plan, and was it going to work at all?

He sat up and took his watch from the nightstand. His Sight instantly told him that the spring was beginning to run down, so he wound it absently. The subtle sound of the spring clicking tighter seemed much louder than usual in the silence. Twist rubbed at his itchy eyes and considered going to find out if Myra might be awake.

The sun had set many hours ago, and it was probably near to midnight in whatever time zone he was in now. His watch still read London time, so he couldn’t be sure. No matter the emptiness of his dark cabin or how soothing just speaking to her might be, the thought of waking her seemed like a solid barrier.

Twist sat for a long while in the quiet, listening to his watch tick out the wrong time. Then, suddenly, he heard a different sound. There was a very low, bone-deep rumble that only lasted a moment. At first, Twist thought it must be the engines growling. Then he remembered that the engines were on the other side of the massive ship, and it was impossible to hear them from his cabin. The sound came again, this time just a little louder. Twist covered his watch with his hands to deaden its sound as he struggled to listen for the rumble again.

The third time he heard it, it was significantly louder. He opened his eyes sharply as he realized that it was coming from below him. Not from the deck—it was far too deep and full for that—but from a clear distance below. He got up and peered out one of his porthole windows, looking for the source. The ground was totally obscured by thick gray clouds that sailed by a mere few yards below the ship, only gently lit by the thin crescent of the moon. As Twist watched, a brilliant, momentary, white light burst within the cloud, illuminating it like a sudden sun, with another throaty growl.

Twist jumped back from the window. The very first explanation that his sleep-deprived mind supplied was an epic battle between Norse or Greek gods. He shook his head, rejecting that possibility. As the rumble sounded again, Twist finally thought of a much more reasonable answer. It must be thunder. The ship was flying over a storm. Excitement gripped Twist’s heart, and he was moving in an instant. He threw on a pair of trousers as quickly as he could, slipped his feet into his boots, and grabbed his jacket as he ran out of his cabin door.

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