Clockwork Twist : Missing Read Free

she smiled at Twist with a decidedly playful gleam in her eyes. Jonas crossed his arms and leaned back to survey the image before he gave an admiring whistle. Arabel swatted at him with the back of her hand, but Myra only giggled and looked expectantly to Twist.
    “Do I look like an English lady?” she asked him brightly, clasping together her metal hands in their white-lace gloves.
    It took Twist a few tries to get a sound past his lips. “Yes, you do,” he said as he struggled with the perfection of the illusion. “You look splendid, my dear,” he managed finally, pulling out a smile.
    Myra gave an elated squeak and hopped as she moved quickly to stand beside him, wrapping her arm through his.
    “Let’s take a stroll,” she said, as if it were the most exotic of pleasures. “Arabel told me about strolls. Apparently, English women take them all the time.”
    As Twist acquiesced, Myra spoke quickly in bright notes, telling him of all the wonders that one could see in London shops, while she walked beside him in a cloud of pure pride and delight. Jonas shrugged and offered his sister his arm as well. She accepted with a grin, and the two pairs turned to stroll along the paths, through the seas of lush, damp grass. Twist listened less to Myra’s words and more to the happiness and innocence that ran rampantly through her clockwork form. Her chilly metal fingers warmed slowly against his arm, while his Sight washed his attention in her every delight.
    As they continued along the banks of a wide, green pond, the sky began to darken. In a moment, the sound of heavy raindrops crept over the damp ground behind them. The swans that had been paddling about happily on the pond took to the sky with aggravated cries, while promenading ladies shrieked and hurried primly to shelter. The suddenness of the heavy rain surprised even Twist.
    “Shall we make a break for it, then?” he asked, already hurrying his pace as the curtain of rain began to close on them, so thick that its border was clearly visible.
    “I saw a tea shop over there,” Arabel said, pointing to the nearest park exit.
    “Perfect!” Myra said brightly as they all began to run. “Twist loves tea.”
    “Grand. Can we hurry up, then?” Jonas said shortly, rushing away from the advancing storm.
    They all broke into a run, but the weather quickly caught up with them. A few moments later, Twist and his companions were seated at a table in a little tea shop, with some extra napkins. Glancing about, Twist spotted many other soggy patrons at the tables around them. At second look, the tea shop seemed anything but trendy to Twist. He supposed that the storm must be doubling its daily business.
    The flowery wallpaper was pink and gold, and all of the wooden furniture was painted a bland white. The gauzy green curtains blocked the rest of the sunlight, while amber gaslight poured out of cherub-shaped sconces, over murky oil paintings of indistinct fields and farms. There was no grace or elegance to anything in sight, giving the place a crowded, gaudy, and decidedly cheap appearance.
    “This place is ghastly,” Jonas said as he placed his dark goggles snugly over his eyes.
    “I think it’s cozy,” Arabel said brightly.
    “No, it’s ghastly,” Twist said, staring uncertainly at a rather dull-looking brown cow in one of the paintings.
    “Oh look!” Myra said suddenly, pointing to an item on the lace-rimmed menu. “They have your favorite, darling,” she said happily to Twist.
    “Dear, this is London,” Twist said gently to her, having read the item name. “Everyone sells Darjeeling.”
    “What a wonderful city,” Myra said wistfully.
    “I miss Cuba,” Jonas said, inspecting a golden teaspoon with his fingers. “There weren’t any ghastly tea shops in Cuba. Does this spoon seriously have a kitten on the end of it?” he asked, holding it up for Twist to see for him.
    “I’m afraid so,” he answered gravely.
    Arabel rolled her eyes. “Men…” she