The next morning, Twist awoke to find lush, dark-green forests and mountains gliding under the airship's shadow. When he asked, Jonas told him that the land below them was likely a place called Cambodia—which Twist had never heard of—and that they were now most of the way to their destination. After a quick but delightful breakfast and many more compliments to Cybele, he returned to the cargo hold to finally finish the repairs to the clockwork puppet. The only work that still needed to be done, however, was the most delicate and difficult of all; the disentangling of the tiny levers and sensors that transferred the vibrations of the central crystal to the rest of the body.
After three hours of diligent work, Twist was almost finished. Just when he stood back to stretch his stiff neck, he heard footsteps on the wood behind him. Turning, he found Idris's empty golden eyes watching him as he came closer.
“How's it coming?” Idris asked lightly.
“I'm getting there,” Twist said. Idris looked over the puppet and nodded.
“Machines confuse me to no end,” he said. “They're so complicated.”
“Do you still have the crystal?” Twist asked, careful to keep his words light.
“Oh sure,” Idris said, looking up to him. “Do you need it?”
“Can I just touch it for a moment?” Twist asked, trying desperately not to let his soft voice weaken.
Idris held out an open, empty hand. A purple mist collected on his palm, growing into the shape of the crystal. With a strange little pop, the mist solidified into the crystal itself. He held it out to Twist easily. Twist moved one fingertip gently over the edge of the crystal before he took it off the djinn's palm, fearful that his Sight might shock him enough to drop it.
He felt the quiet, contented rest of Myra's sleeping spirit inside. The essence of her soul wafted slowly around the crystalline structure like living smoke, preserved and perfectly untouched inside the safety of the crystal. Her sheer peace was staggering. Twist let out a long, low breath, feeling her calm pour into his own heart.
“You look like a man with a wish,” Idris said, smiling at him in gold.
“What?” Twist asked, blinking his eyes clear and wrenching his attention off the crystal to look at him.
“I haven't granted a good wish in a while,” Idris said wistfully. “You look to me like you're brewing up a good one.”
“But...” Twist toned, thinking quickly. “If you're a genie, aren't there rules about making wishes? What could I ask for?”
“Anything entertaining,” Idris said with a shrug. “I can choose which wishes I grant, and I'm not granting any boring ones. That means no huge piles of money, no wishing yourself king of anything, and no simple transportation wishes. I've done those things to death.”
Twist nodded as he hurriedly thought over any of the things he might actually want. Going home and being done with all pirates was chief among them. “So, if I wished to be sent home to London with this puppet, or even to the Vimana, would that entertain you at all?”
Idris's face washed over with a shade of disappointment. “Not in the least. How is that fun for me? If you're going to wish to be sent somewhere, at least think of some place interesting, like Mars, or Never Land, or something.”
“Mars?” Twist gasped. “Heavens no. Isn't it crawling with strange alien things?”
“Care to find out?” Idris asked, grinning and rubbing his hands together eagerly.
“No,” Twist said with clear certainty. Idris gave a sigh. “I don't mean to be rude, but I'm sure you must be the strangest person I'll ever have occasion to meet,” Twist said, to which Idris's golden smile grew and deepened.
“You really need to get out more,” he said smoothly. “I've met things in this world far stranger than I.”
“With luck, I won't,” Twist said. “I don't want to be made a liar.”
Idris laughed and shook his pure white head. “I like you,” he said once he'd caught a breath. “Learn to wish a little more elaborately and you and I could have a wonderful future.”
“Well, for the present,” Twist said, anxious to change the subject away from the possibility of that, “I suppose you'll want this back now?” he asked, looking down to Myra's heart in his hands.
“You can hold on to it, if you want to,” Idris said lightly.
“Really?” Twist asked, looking up to him quickly. “I assumed you and Quay would want it out of my reach.”
“Quay intimated as much,” Idris said, nodding, “but at the moment I feel like making you happy instead.” Something in his voice caught Twist's attention—an inference that he could only guess at.
“I wish I could keep this with me, without Quay knowing about it,” Twist said.
“Ah, now that's a bit more interesting of a wish,” Idris said brightly. He reached out to the crystal and touched it with the tip of one white finger, and then raised his hand and snapped his fingers. Instantly, the crystal broke into silver smoke on Twist's palm, before recoalescing into a tiny version of itself that was set on a long, silver chain, as a pendant. “Done,” Idris said as Twist stared at the item in his hands in total bewilderment.
“What…did you do?” Twist asked. His Sight showed the full, original form of the crystal still in his hands, while his eyes showed him the pendant and chain. The extreme paradox of it made his eyes water.
“It's just a bit of camouflage,” Idris said easily. “To all the world, the crystal is now a great deal smaller. But, if you break that pendant off of its chain, then the crystal will return to its own form whether I'm involved or not. Wear it under your shirt, and no one will know.”
“Thank you,” Twist said, looking up to Idris in disbelief. “But, if Quay finds out that you gave me this, won't he think that you've betrayed him?”
“But I haven't,” Idris said brightly. “He never actually asked me not to give it to you.”
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“But you said...” Twist said, pointing at him with his free hand.
“I said that he intimated,” Idris said. “I'm a magical creature. We never play fair. It's simply no fun at all.”
“I see,” Twist said, more for the conversation's sake than for truth.
“We'll be near Indonesia soon now,” Idris said. “You might want to finish this before we get there,” he said, looking to the puppet.
“Yes, I do,” Twist said, lifting the silver chain over his head to hang around his neck. His Sight could make no sense whatsoever out of this movement, though his fingers had no trouble with it. He tucked the tiny crystal pendant under his collar so that it was fully hidden, hanging near his own heart.
“Well, I'll leave you to it then,” Idris said pleasantly as he turned to leave. “Let me know if you think of any more interesting wishes,” he called over his shoulder before climbing the stairs up to the next deck.
Twist looked down to the nearly finished puppet and stretched his wrists as he thought through the last of the work that needed to be done. As he reached back into the inner workings of the puppet, his Sight filled his mind with everything he needed to make the repairs, but it also pulsed a steady stream of quiet, silent, peace straight into his heart from the crystal pendant against his skin.
After what felt like a very long time, that had inexplicably passed in an instant, Twist's hands finally stopped working. He looked down at the puppet, now gleaming, flawless, and perfect to the eye. Every piece of it glowed in the sunlight that streamed in through the small porthole windows. The copper skin and silver notes gleamed with a polish so bright that it looked once again untouched by time. Every joint and moving piece was free and pliable, ready to move at the spirit's slightest whim. When Twist reached out again to touch her, he felt every single piece within, each in its rightful place, polished and repaired as if they had never even been used.
The clockwork machine was flawless and ready to run, but nothing moved. The puppet was deathly still, as if heedless of its own potential. Twist carefully replaced the pink silks that had been left aside, covering the metal body discreetly, and bound the wire hair into a tail as he had seen Myra wear it in his vision. Looking down at her now, Twist saw the echo of Myra's true beauty in every detailed shape of the puppet. It was clear to him that the man who had built it had loved her deeply. Twist had seen his care and attention in every single part of the terribly complex and artful creation.
“Twist!” Jonas's voice called as Twist heard footsteps on the boards above his head. He turned to the opening as Jonas came half way down the stairs with a smile. “We finally passed Malaysia, and Indonesia is in sight. Come up and see.” He paused, looking around Twist at the puppet. “Is it finished?” he asked, coming the rest of the way down and walking closer.
“Only just,” Twist said on a heavy breath. “I've never worked on anything nearly as complex as that. For a while I thought it might take the rest of my life.”
“It looked bloody difficult,” Jonas said, looking over the shining metal skin. “Nice work, though. It looks like she's just asleep. She could get up and go dancing any moment.”
Twist nodded, smiling over his work.
“Well, it won't be long until she can, now,” Jonas said, turning his smile to Twist. “Come on, let's go watch the approach,” he said, reaching out to take hold of Twist's shoulders, turn him to the stairs, and give him a playful shove.
Twist let him do so, only slightly twitching at the effects of his touch now, and walked with him up to the top deck. The piercing sunlight of high atmosphere struck him the moment they stepped into it. Thankfully, Twist had his new dark-blue-lensed, silver goggles waiting, hanging round his neck by the leather strap. He pulled them on to dim the light and was surprised by how brilliantly they worked. The deep color of them cut the over-bright sunlight back enough to see easily, while bathing the world in a rich and vibrant blue that made the sky appear to glow in pure color.
Twist rushed to keep up with Jonas as he hurried to the bow of the ship. They both looked out over the edge at an island unlike any Twist had even seen. A huge expanse of heavily forested land lay before them, reaching out into the ocean with open arms, in the shape of a crescent moon. Other larger islands appeared in the vast distance behind it, off on the horizon.
As they watched, long, thin, pale beaches appeared out of the forests, at the edge of the azure-blue ocean. Palm trees hung over the surf, while tiny handmade villages appeared in among the trees. When the airship began to descend, Twist saw high, jagged, and lush green mountains reach up to them from the forests, giving the large island an even more dynamic face. The air warmed steadily as the ship drifted out of the sky, carrying the rich, moist, exotic scents of innumerable wild living things up to them.
“Welcome to the tropics, Twist,” Jonas said brightly. “That sure doesn't look like London, does it?” he added with an elbow bump to Twist's side.
“It's like something out of a story,” Twist marveled, unable to keep the grin of pure wonder off his face. “I'd thought people were exaggerating. But it's real, isn't it? Are those real palm trees down there?”
“And you didn't want to leave home,” Jonas said, shaking his head.
The airship sailed low over the white-topped, cerulean waves to the left point of the island's arc. Twist saw tall towers made of bamboo standing at the edge of a long, pale beach as if to greet them. Where the land met the crystal-clear, blue water, it appeared in sweeping swaths of pale green and teal under the shifting reflections of pure-white sunlight. As they sailed nearer, the scent of saltwater and jungle rose warmer and warmer on humid air, carrying with it the sound of the gentle waves. For the first time in his life, Twist felt the sudden and decadent urge to run into that warm, colorful, clear water and splash about like a child.
The airship was tied to the bamboo towers, hanging only a few feet over the lightly lapping waves on the inside of the shallow bay, and the crew disembarked instantly. Vane was the first one to run down the creaking bamboo stairs—simply tied together by rough ropes—and down to the long, low pier that hung out over the clear water for a hundred feet from the white beach. Vane, however, didn't seem interested in the land at all. He ran instead to the edge of the pier where the water was still somewhat deep, and then dove in with an effortless arc and a brilliant splash. Following him to the edge of the pier, Jiran laughed to watch him, her usually silent voice surprisingly sweet. Vane's head came back out with a wide smile.
“Come in!” he called to Jiran. “It's so warm...” he purred, diving back down, only to come up just as easily, to smile at her again. The others, meanwhile, finally caught up to Jiran.
“I'm not dressed for swimming,” Jiran said, her words striking Twist as quite British in color, as she smiled down at Vane in the water.
“Idris!” Vane called, swimming closer to where the djinn stood on the pier. “I really wish Jiran was wearing a tiny little swimming costume, like the ones some of these island girls wear.”
“Don't you dare!” Jiran snapped instantly at Idris.
“But I'd like to see that, too,” Idris said, grinning at her.
“I'll second that as well,” Jonas said, raising a hand. Quay nodded silently, watching the exchange with great interest.
“Men are all alike,” Cybele sighed, crossing her arms.
“If he grants that wish, I won't speak to you for a month,” Jiran said coldly to Vane.
“You're not losing much,” Jonas said to Vane.
“I'd take that deal,” Quay offered. Jiran, meanwhile, was staring daggers down at Vane as he considered his options, hanging onto a loose piece of rope at the edge of the pier to keep himself afloat in the gentle bobbing of the light waves.
“All right, all right,” Vane said, disappointment ringing in his heavy voice. “Never mind, Idris,” he moaned, diving back down into the water and swimming under the shade of the pier.
“Damn it,” Jonas muttered.
“All right, let's get to work,” Quay said to everyone. “Once we finish with our chores, we'll all get to play. The weather is so nice, I'm thinking to stay here for a week or two.”
Looking up to the sky, Twist saw only a handful of the puffiest, most delicious-looking white clouds he'd ever seen, sailing pleasantly through the perfect blue sky. Smiles broke to light on all of the faces around him, except for Cybele who wrinkled her noise.
“I guess it’s not so humid right now,” Cybele said, fanning herself with a hand. “It could be worse, I suppose.”
None of the others seemed to hear her this time, each one breathing in the beauty around them with big, full, eager breaths.
