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There are 7 inmates on death row in a secret prison and I've been tasked with eating their sins. Lust can be a suffocating, sickening experience.

Sin Eater - A person who consumes a ritual meal in order to spiritually take on the sins of a deceased person.
If only it were that simple.
My name is Eleanor Lockwood, but you can all call me Nelle. I wouldn’t call sin eating my job or anything superfluous like that. It simply is my reason for being.
My grandmother Efa Lockwood was one of the last in Wales to keep the practice going. With no mother or father to speak of and no desire for children of my own, responsibility fell to me, the unlikely descendant, to take up the mantle and keep it going.
But I will be the last, that much is certain.
People have lost touch with that aspect of the world; the traditions of days gone by, respect for the old ways and the rituals small towns and villages would undertake to safeguard their communities from wayward souls, unseen terrors and creatures of the night.
When Efa met my Grandfather Ajani, an immigrant from Jamaica, he brought with him stories of Voodoo curses, known as Obeah. Traditions held for centuries and the importance of respecting one's kin through practice. But the world was changing and when I came of age, I knew I’d need to see the wider world to bring our family talents to prominence.
That’s when I stumbled across Sturgeon. A town with a bar between places that caters to those in need, a town with a hotel sporting physical impossibilities on every floor, a town where the dead are ferried across on seaplanes and where monsters meet martial artists in a tournament of nightmares.
But what I have to tell you all today goes far, far away from that. To the outer reaches of Sturgeons eyes and finds itself situated in a maximum security prison in the middle of the most dangerous location on Earth;
The Bermuda Triangle.
I am The Last Sin Eater. And this is my story.
-
“Miss Lockwood, Mr McGraw;
Your presence is urgently requested to deal with the final requests of our Death Row Inmates. More information will be provided upon your acceptance and arrangements will be made to bring you here within 48 hours. Simply dial the number attached and we will organise the rest.
I look forward to hearing from you.
Yours faithfully,
Warden Leichenberg.”
Buck kicked back in his recliner and swirled his whiskey around lazily as I finished reading, smirking from underneath his stetson.
“You gonna go? Hell, why am I even asking? O’Course you are.” He downed it in one and slammed the drink down as he gasped, standing up to his full height and cracking his back. He was a burly man in his early 30’s, rippled muscles and a thick black beard hiding a chiselled brown jaw and piercing green eyes. Buck was as tough as they came, but calmer and more patient than most men thrice his age. He never judged, never tried to speak for me or tell me what to do. He respected me as an equal and I admired him all the more for it.
“Wonder what the hell kinda prison situates itself in the heart of a place like that, how do you even get in there without it being a crash and burn scenario?” I pondered aloud, taking note of the number and walking over to the landline in our office. We’d been operating as business partners for a couple of years, taking on odd jobs involving “unusual specimens and occurrences” that nobody else wanted. Buck called us “Nightmare Detectives”, I called us scholars who got underpaid for our troubles.
“Makes sense to me, especially if the rumours of this place are true.” Buck played with his beard and rifled through a book he’d picked from the large shelf on the back. “Tempestas Penitentiary is spoken of only in passing by scholars as a place that the most problematic individuals in history's shadows would be housed. Not your serial killers or political murderers, but the monsters that history tries its best to scrub from the pages… if we go, it’s going to be a rough ride…” He snaps the book shut and grinned at me, my heart skipping a beat.
“Sounds like a hell of a hunt, I’m in.
One furtive phonecall later and we were packed with our instructions to meet the porter at the airport.
“Caracossa airways, you’re sure about that, right?” Buck asked me, face buried in a notebook he’d been pouring over in the weeks leading up to our letter from the warden. Said it was his “greatest scholarly project”, but never showed me a damn thing from it.
“Yep, they said a guy with a raven will greet us, kinda hard to miss in Sturgeon, right? Even walking around with an Indiana Jones impersonator like you!” I chuckled, punching him in the arm playfully, my other hand running through the playlists on my iPod. Could never relax on a trip without some good music.
“Speak for yourself, you dress and act like you’re trying your damnedest to be the next Van Helsing. Albeit Welsh and female.”
“And better hair.” I dramatically brushed a loc aside as we both laughed, the anxiety of a sea of people rushing past us ebbing away.
Out of the crowd came a tall man sporting an all black attire and an over-excited Raven on his shoulder, preening his hair and shouting “BRAIN FOOD” as he tried, and failed, to coax him.
“Damnit Edgar, I told you to cool it!” He hissed, offering up a finger for the Corvid as a warning, instead making him tilt his head quizzically before nipping him and shrieking in delight.
“IT’S RAW! IT’S RAW!” He chirped as the man came closer, pinching his brow.
“You guys must be Lockwood and McGraw, could spot you two a mile away. Welcome to Caracossa Airways. I’m Nestor Holden and this little delight is Edgar, we’ll be your guides to Tempestra Prison. You got everything you need? We won’t be making any stops on the way and I’ve been instructed to assist in any way I can when we arrive, which is a pretty good excuse to get some R&R for us.”
“RAW AND ROWDY! RAW AND ROWDY!” Edgar screeched as Nestor clicked in front of him. “What’d we say about crass behaviour in public?” He hissed.
“Only when funny.” Edgar replied solemnly, his head lowered, myself and Buck chuckling as we grabbed our bags.
“Oh and by the way, I’ve been told to give you this before take off, keep it on you at all times. It’s a charm to help ward off negative aura or something, my boss L. D. said it was imperative to get it to you.”
He passed us each a totem. They were old and hand carved, both sporting frail individuals with their boney hands holding a thick hood in a perpetual state between up and down, unable to tell if they were raising or lowering it, but the eyes were obscured.
It unsettled me, but I kept it in my pocket, as did Buck and we departed.
For a split second, as we passed through the terminal, I spotted something in my peripheral vision; a thin, gangly sort of creature peering from behind a thin concrete beam that jutted out of the floor. Bioluminescent, black little eyes fixated on me and drool running down its elongated lips, curled into a smile as gnarled fingers awkwardly crunched until it was holding up a number in my direction. A number that would become synonymous with the rest of my life from that day forward;
The number 8.
-
The ride in was… interesting, to say the least. Our pilot was in a perpetual state of drunkenness, spouting off Lord Alfred Tennyson as he took us through rocky shores and across foreboding blackened skies. I had my music on and i’ll be damned if it wasn’t atmospheric when the opening riff kicked in.
As I looked out of the window, Buck snoring something fierce next to me, my jaw fell slack at the sight that greeted me.
Where the ocean had been calm and the wind even more so for the duration of our journey, we were now greeted with a storm of tumultuous proportions; sharp winds sliced at the window, whipping the ocean into a frenzy and slamming swathes of frothy green liquid at the plane with malice, trying in vain to stop us from approaching.
“The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls;He watches from his mountain walls,And like a thunderbolt he falls!”
The pilot sang over the intercom as he took the plane into a nosedive, sending Bucks still snoring head forward with a snap, Edgar crying out as we descended further, my hands clasped to the sides of the seat and my stomach firmly in my boots.
“NO SURVIVORS! NO SURVIVORS!”
“Edgar! Don’t mind him, we’re fine. The approach is normal, for a place like this…” Nestor kept his arms crossed, seated opposite me in the flight attendants area, eyes cast outside as bright lights began filling the windows. “Take a look. It’s your new home for the next week.”
Buck roused from his sleep just in time to catch a glimpse of the imposing structure waiting for us as the plane levelled out and we were on approach for landing.
A circular structure spanning several thousand feet rising out of the sea with torrents of water spilling off the top of the oval base and back into the ocean, several landing pads visible as lights guided us in. At the centre of the structure was a thick steel tube that extended down into the deeps.
All around the prison were heavy winds, crashing waves and darkness for miles on end.
If someone wanted to escape, they’d find no respite upon getting out.
We were waved down by a sea of guards and a tall, imposing man stood in the back. Black trench coat and a patterned umbrella sporting blue cherry blossoms. He waved dramatically as we stepped off the plane and a leather gloved hand clasped my own with extreme enthusiasm.
“Wilkommen to my own personal tartarus! Do you like the location?” He beams proudly at me, stretching his arms out and spinning around. “All of this just to prevent the worst of the worst from getting out. Crushing their hopes and dreams under mein steel toe capped heel…” He turns back to us and Buck scoffs.
“Always the eccentric types in positions of power, huh?” he murmurs, jabbing me playfully. “C’mon, indulge him. This IS his kingdom, after all.”With that, Buck strides forward, ignoring the rain and ocean froth drenching him in moments. He gives the Warden a firm handshake before gesturing to me.
“Ah, you must be our revered sin eater! I’ve never seen what your people do up close and personal, but I will take great pride in seeing it enacted on our inmates, if it means they will suffer just a little bit more…”
My eyebrow raised involuntarily, the warden noticing and immediately holding his hands up defensively.
“Oh no, don’t mistake me for a sadist! I just wish to ensure my job is done properly. These are bad, bad creatures. I deign to even call them people for what they’ve done. Each one has committed a crime... er, a “sin” if you will, so egregious that god himself would sooner spit on his own son that allow a single one amongst them into the kingdom of Elysium.”
“You a religious man, Mr Leichenberg?” I asked, Buck and I following him to the central tube that connected the entrance to the main prison, Nestor and Edgar bringing up the rear as the pilot cackled and began taking off again.
“Are you not, Madame Lockwood? In a world of such horrors as what we house here, one must have something to cling to that enables us to believe there is truth, justice, punishment and reward. A balance for all things, such was the way the Greeks believed things to be. With your profession, I would’ve assumed du to be ein woman of the cloth, no?
”I shook my head as we piled into the chamber, the doors closing on our last look of the outside world for a week.
“If there is a god, he blinded himself to our struggles long ago. Whatever goes on here is up to us, now. I just do my part in the process.”
Buck sighed and Nestor fed Edgar to keep him calm as we descended, the front section of the tube showing nothing but steel as we descended.
But after a moment, the view gave way to the top of a sprawling prison, the general population area. Thousands of inmates, some human and others… well, monsters of the most literal sense. All in turquoise jumpsuits and either congregating in groups, doing work for the officers or working out. As we got closer, it became apparent this was a building far bigger and deeper than I could’ve imagined.
“Our prison houses 7,000 inmates of various backgrounds, crimes and origins. We are tasked with making sure they never get out and cause more havoc up above. I’d inform you more of them or even give you einen tour, but alas, we’re not here for them…”The tube dropped down and we were plunged into darkness once more, save for a few maintenance lights that flooded the room in a red and purple hue.
“Your prison is… expansive, Warden. I’m impressed. How many legendary beasts ya got locked up here? I’d enjoy cataloguing some of ‘em for my compendium…”
The Warden seemed to think on it for a moment before politely shaking his head.
“Ah, my apologies, but there’s no chance on your schedule. Each session will be… difficult and take your day to complete. With 7 of them, I do not wish to waste extra energy. But I am proud of the structure wherein these individuals are housed. Since my appointment to the position, we have had a far more complacent criminal populace and far less deaths!” He clapped his hands together excitedly as we came to a stop in front of a single white hallway.
“You know, I never envisioned getting my dream job by 34, but here we are! Strange how the world works, no?”
He ushered us out and towards a makeshift office. Fitted with a bed, couch, vending machine and research area.
“This is your workstation area, we will provide you with anything you may need and any extra facilities can be provided to you with an escort. Your first inmate is already waiting.”
Placing my wet clothes and baggage down, I stared at him, incredulously.
“Now? What about any information on him or her first?
”A smile rippled across his face, his shoulders hunching. The man wasn’t necessarily threatening, but his height coupled with the power he held here certainly made it an uncomfortable look.
“I want to see if your skills are as true as they come. His as well.” He looked over at Buck who grinned back, but there was offence right behind it.
“What about me? I need a test?” Nestor quipped, Edgar trying to get at his eyebrows and preen them.
“No, you’re a bodyguard. So long as you protect them, I think we have no issue. Even if I’m not fond of your… pet.”Edgar cocked his head in the Wardens direction before screeching:
"TASTY EYES! TASTY EYES!" And laughing as Nestor scolded him.
“As good a time as any, I suppose. Let’s go, lead the way, Warden.”
With that, he escorted us out and down the long hallway, through the one locked door and out into a visitors centre, of sorts. Several guards stood on watch and patted us down for contraband before we could even step foot into their interview areas.
“Welcome, Warden. Who are our esteemed guests visiting today?”
“Cell 2, Officer Mitchell. Prisoner #4822”
He passed us a pen to sign in with and nodded before buzzing the gate and allowing us through.
“Remember; if they catch you, we won’t negotiate. Not for anything or anyone.”
Nestor smiled as we went through to the interview room on the left of the cells.
“If I fail them, they’re dead anyway.”
-
The interview chamber was odd, to say the least. It seemed cordoned off from the rest of the building, as if quarantined. A small table with four chairs greeted us, a thick plexiglass window stretching across the length of the far wall, total darkness on the other side.
“The Prisoner will be with you momentarily. I’ll be watching from my office, but there is a button to the right of the wall if anything should go wrong. I’ll speak with you after you’re done. Good luck frau lockwood!” He paused as the door held open, as if contemplating whether or not to say something else. “Don’t be fooled by this one, looks can be… deceiving.”
With that, the door shut and our first interview began.
For a moment, there was a silence that permeated the room, as if waiting for someone to start things off. Buck was sat down with his compendium open and ready, a small microphone attached to a dictator machine, Nestor leaning against the wall and keeping Edgar entertained.
I called out, hoping to get a response.
“The Warden called you Prisoner #4822, but i’m hoping you have a more fitting name. Never been a fan of complexities. I’m Madame Nelle Lockwood, the person you all asked to come here for your uhh… sins. Are you there?”
Something shifted in the darkness. A thick, bulging, undulating shape that began wheezing and hacking as it moved forward.
“Yeah. I’m here, Ma’m. Names Tallulah Makepeace. Thank you for coming.”
I felt… something. Still not sure what, but I pressed on and tried to find a natural groove, the session wouldn’t work if we didn’t get off on a good footing.
"Why'd you ask for me? I'm to understand none of you are particularly sorry for what you did." I may as well get the awkwardness out now, seemed silly to ignore. To her credit, she scoffed at my comment.
"Just because I ain't sorry, don't mean the sin shouldn't be excised. Maybe it'll make me feel remorse, who knows... I know what I did was wrong, but it was for a greater purpose, you'll see."
“You know what I do? How I do it?” I asked, the figure hacking and chuckling before replying.
“Yeah, I know whutchu do, honey. I got a lot of sins, but it’s the early ones… the ones that put me in this metal coffin, that I needta get off my chest. And boy, if my chest ain’t heavy enough already!”
She laughed and I began to get the impression she was a heavier woman, even with the shroud of darkness. But instead of pressing her to move forward, I did what I’d always done;
I encouraged her to tell her story.
“It all started when I was about 11 or 12. I was a pretty young thang, lemme tell ya. Wore nice floral dresses, had fair skin, all the boys wanted to take me out. Heck, even the girls, not that I minded. Mama said I was her perfect angel. Problem was, I didn’t care for any of ‘em. Not really, anyway. They were just… there. Background noise to absorb when I needed attention, gifts or favours. I tell ya, if the world had dropped another atom bomb and I was the only one left standin’, i’m not sure i’d have been too concerned with the aftermath.”She snorted and spat on the floor, clearing her throat before continuing.
“One night, right before Valentines day, something appeared at the end of my bed. He was tall, muscular, completely covered in red hair and washboard abs… I mean, my goodness…” She let out a shudder and I felt my skin crawl. “He said his name was Azazel and that he was an Incubus, someone sent here to pass on a message; I wasn’t attaining my true form, but the form that others wanted me to partake. Until I became what he knew I could be, both inside and out…, well, I was destined to be alone and unloved.”
“So what did you do next, Tallulah? Were you inspired to change or did you seek a doctor?” I asked, hands tapping the table as I gained a better idea of the woman in front of me.
“A doctor? Bitch you crazy? I got a vision from my ideal man and he told me I had to change. You don’t just ignore that… so, I did as I was told. Began eating more, not worrying about my hygiene unless my parents forced me to… but they gave up eventually. Stopped studying, dedicated myself wholeheartedly to the craft of perfection. Gained 150lbs in just a few years and my god… I was beautiful. I still am, o’course, but when you SEE yourself for the first time, it’s like peeling off your old skin and steppin’ out of a cocoon.” She leaned back and I heard the chair groan under the pressure.
By now, a thick mist was forming around her. A byproduct of the session, but she wasn’t to know just yet.
“Was it around this time you started luring young men and women into the woods, Tallulah?” Buck asked, his eyes dark and his grin replaced with a scowl.
“You must’ve been around 17 years old when you started, right? I know the name and what you did.”
Tallulah shifted in her seat and made an approving noise, leaning in the darkness to see Buck better.
“My, my. As if it weren’t enough to have ONE looker in here, I got two. Are y’all helping me with a sin to be eaten or are Y’ALL the snacks? You look good enough to eat…” She giggled and continued. “When I completed the physical metamorphosis, Azazel came back to me, cooing in my ear that to have the perfect love, I had to be willing to give up everything and go further. To take love from others.”
She scratched at her face, thick calluses resisting the nails and I swear I heard a pimple pop, my stomach turning but ignoring the desire to lose composure.
“First few I just told ‘em there was an animal in need or that I'd lost my baby brother in them woods. I guess the damsel in distress thang is still pretty popular. They’d always come in, help me and get caught… that’s where the real process began. See, it weren’t enough to just kill ‘em. The point of true love was to carry them with you forever. To take their lives, take a piece of ‘em and ensure it was always a part of ya. THAT was true power.”She leaned forward and it took every inch of my body not to recoil in horror.
She was a gargantuan woman in her 30’s. 600lbs easily. Undulating fat and heavy folds spilling out of her turquoise jumpsuit and spilling over the chair. Her black hair was matted to her head and her facial features were so sunken into her elongated and fattened skull that I struggled to comprehend how she saw anything. But that mouth… my god, it was double the size of my own. The teeth were yellowed and the gums bright red, random hairs and pimples littered her face like badges of honour.
“See, they say bees make the best honey. But that ain’t quite true. Azazel taught me all about the mummification of old human beings. Men and women who willingly gave their bodies to be something “more”. But, there are far quicker ways to make it happen… if you have a guiding voice.”
She grinned and a long, black tongue escaped her lips, like a serpent tasting the air around a frightened victim.
“I’d make sure the holes were deep, the coffins were done perfectly to their measurements… it helped to have a friendly neighbour who made ‘em special for me if I gave him… favours, in return. Once they fell in, the drop was steep enough that they couldn’t get back out, the liquid would act like a gelling agent; stoppin’ em from going very far until I came back with the rest of the ingredients… watchin’ ‘em struggle like flies in a trap was always immensely satisfying…”
She groaned and the hairs on my body stood on end. It felt more and more like I was being sized up. The red and pink mist filling her room now gaining mass at a rapid rate.
“So you made these people into… food?” I asked, trying not to dry heave as I finished my sentence.
“Mhmm, they’d struggle until their strength gave out and their heads fell under the water. Then, I'd put the lid on and wait. My own little garden of eden… it was like I was a god in my own backyard. Give it just 2 months, they’d be nothin’ more than a sweet liquid that kept me young, beautiful and immortal. So long as I had that sweet nectar, I weren't goin’ nowhere. I had a task to fulfil and a part to play, so sayeth Azazel. I couldn't stop until I met the one I was destined to fall in love with.”“But that’s not all you did, is it? Because if it was, we’d be done by now.” I pressed on, the mist beginning to form into a shape, but not quite there. Tallulah shifted uncomfortably in her seat, finally showing a degree of emotion before she continued.
“I started to lose track of how many I was putting into them pits. Didn’t matter if it were a couple, an older guy, a younger girl. Whatever. But, importantly, I knew to be smart and to be careful. Never any personal ties. So, when Candace wandered in…” She paused, beady little eyes welling up with tears and her jowls quivering with sadness. “I broke my only rule. My little girl was only 3 when she went out to play. She wandered into an open pit that I’d dug for our next victim, he was a playmate of hers and if she’d just… just waited a little bit longer…”
She burst into tears, greasy, filthy hands covering her face as she sobbed heavily.
“And after that, you gave yourself up?” It seemed too convenient, but she nodded, snot running down her face.
“I saw no way forward with mine or Azazel’s goal without Candace. My progeny. So, I gave myself up and here I am. Waitin’ for death.”
The haze was nearly fully formed now, but something was still missing…
“That’s not the worst of it, is it, Tallulah?” Buck pressed, something in his voice commanding the room. "You lure in people with pity and sexual favours, we're expected to believe you had any soft spot? I don't buy it. I know what the greatest sacrifices entail. Candace didn't wander in there, did she?”
The crying grew louder as Buck pressed her more.
It took a moment, but her demeanour shifted once again and I swear I have never felt more like a diver in a sharktank waiting to be devoured. Every fibre of my being urged me to run as the crying gave way to uproarious laughter and a thunderous pounding against the plexiglass, damn near jumping me out of my skin as she cackled.
“Aw, I thought my actin’ would’ve fooled y’all! Guess i’m losin’ my charm, huh?”
I felt sick, my nostrils filling with the scent of honey, I knew we were close.
“Naw, I didn’t give myself up outta grief. I did it because Candace was the last one. My little angel with her pink bow, flowing locks and curly hair, she saw me as a god... but I saw her as a means to an end. A love unrequited from daughter to mother. She didn’t even put up a fight when I dropped her into the pit. Just looked up at me with those doe eyes and said “mama, why?” as I poured the mixture in. And lemme tell ya…”
Tallulah leaned forward, her fetid breath fogging up the glass as the mist around her took the shape of a tall man, clad in red fur and with thick horns. Yellow eyes beaming at her with an expectant grin.
“She was the most delicious of ‘em all. And they’re with me always. All of ‘em.”
"Tallulah, why even have me here if you've got no real fears of what happens next? Why put us through that sordid and disgusting tale?" I tried to keep my emotions in check, struggling to hold my nerve.
"Because I wanted someone to look at my beauty one last time and see me, unburdened by sin, as I move to the next phase. This is just the first part, you were my witness. That's all there is to it."
She got out of her seat as I held back my sheer disgust, knowing in a few moments I'd need to devour the sin. She cracked her large back and neck, smiling at us as if we were those same victims she’d lured into the woods, moments away from their death;
“Been nice meetin’ ya, glad you were there to hear my sin. But, time’s a wastin’. Azazel and I are off to greener pastures of godhood. But i’m sure we’ll see one another again, someday…”
With that, she walked over to the man, embracing him in a passionate kiss as he pinched her nose with one hand, gripping her throat with the other. She struggled and despite her sheer weight and height advantage, could not break his grip. I watched in horror as her fighting grew weaker and as her arms fell limp, he pulled away to crack her neck and let her fall to the floor.
His eyes scanned us once before Buck called his name and he faded from the room in a puff of smoke.
Nestor ran for the panic button and pushed it as the sirens rang out and furtive footsteps rushed down the hall. But I was already fixated on the final part of the ritual.
Some sin eaters only needed to devour the sin in a meal form, carrying it with them and moving on. But in my case, there had to be a story, a reason and a connection. Now, i'm staring down the end result of this creatures exploits. Knowing it will be a part of me forevermore.
In front of me lay a small bowl filled with a golden liquid that bubbled and frothed. I knew I had to eat it, to finish the ritual, but there was something stopping me. Something I could see in the broth that made me realise I would regret visiting this prison for the rest of my life;
A lock of hair, tied to a small pink bow, floating to the surface before fizzling away.
Eyes closed and hands trembling, I brought the bowl to my lips and did as I was instructed to;
I devoured the sin.
Inmate: #4822 Tallulah Makepeace*.*
Sin: Lust.
Food: Mellified Man.
-
NEXT SIN: GREED.
submitted by tjaylea to nosleep

Meet The Freak 17

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The room was lit by a diffuse glow, as the early morning sunlight filtered through the still raging blizzard.
I swung my legs off the footboard and onto the ground and wriggled my toes to try to get feeling back into my feet. They'd fallen asleep, propped up on the headboard, and began to buzz as the motion restored circulation.
Valentine had already slipped out, and I thought I could just make out muffled voices somewhere below, so I wasn't too worried. After dressing quickly, I ducked into the bathroom to wash up, only to find there was no hot water.
I frowned, and it did occur to me that it was a little cooler now than it had been when we'd gone to sleep. The fact that this little theme park village had any sort of power in the first place was pretty remarkable, perhaps whatever was supplying power was starting to run low?
In any case, I made do. I wasn't about to fit in the shower, so I settled for splashing some cold water on my face and went downstairs.
The carpeted wood creaked in protest, and while I kept my hand on the railing as I descended, I had little confidence in using it to catch me if I fell.
The gynoid's voice echoed up the stairway, "It's not alchemy," she was saying, her voice a little muffled, "And there are side effects. It renders men impotent and causes them to develop breasts, which is to say nothing of the consequences of getting found out. A single bout might earn a champion boxer a king's ransom, but it's all for nought if the truth is revealed. They'll lose their titles, and may even have to return their winnings."
"Now hold on a moment," Valentine demanded, "You're telling me that on top of making the user stronger, this potion also enhances the user's feminine endowments?"
I furrowed my brows as I descended the last of the steps. Both girls were speaking in their own language, though it seemed as if each could understand what the other was saying.
"I'm not certain of the effects in women, there are few female boxers or athletes of any kind, so I have little data," the gynoid replied, "Though I seriously doubt steroids would have any beneficial effect in a species that has such different biology."
The door at the bottom of the stairs was open a crack, and I swung it aside to find the gynoid hard at work while Valentine lounged by the fire. The gynoid had set up at one of the shop's tables, where she was working with a sewing machine, several rolls of grey wool and a selection of other cloth in various colours were laid out on the table next to her.
The room wasn't any less cluttered than it had been last night. There was a little more room near the front, where a great many mannequins displayed completed dresses in various designs and patterns. Even then, I'd hardly had space to slip through sideways, though Val probably found it plenty spacious. Several displays were silhouetted against the windows, little more than a blank white void that hid even the shops across the street.
A low desk and a few mannequins separated the rear of the shop from the front. Leaning against that desk, I was glad to see my poleaxe, the princeling's rifle, and the stormtrooper's rifle. Or rather, the gynoid's rifle and my rifle. In the back were several more workstations of the kind where the gynoid had set up shop, along with Val's fireplace. Behind the front desk was barely an inch of empty wall space, as aside from a space near the hearth, shelves all else. They weren't particularly fancy, just simple, unvarnished pine with open cubbyholes that held the business's raw materials.
The gynoid looked up as I entered, but Valentine wasn't about to rise from her nest of piled cloth and remained sprawled before the fire.
"I leave you two alone for hardly a moment, and you get up to all sorts of nonsense," I teased, "And how can you two even understand each other?"
"You were the one who traded for all that lead," Val yawned, "I combined it with a bit of brass and was able to throw something together. It won't last," she admitted, "But we have enough of both to last a while."
"Valentine has informed me that a more permanent solution might be found on a trip to the city," the gynoid put in.
I stuck a finger in my collar and pulled out the delicate necklace Temerity had given me, "Yeah, I mean in theory I bet we could make something like this, but I wouldn't even know where to start."
Valentine yawned and wriggled around in the piled cloth, "I wouldn't waste the energy," she advised, "I learned this trick," Val gestured between herself and the gynoid, "by rote. I'd been doing enough scavenging that it was worth the trouble to be able to understand people I ran into, but it's not the same. Communicate Mind- at least the way I'm using it -doesn't give me the language, as your amulet does with Elvish. It lets me understand the meaning behind their words as they speak them though, so it's nearly as good."
"But not permanent," the gynoid added.
"Hey, it's something," I shrugged, "So, what's the plan for today?"
"Well Amity here is going to finish putting together your new coat, and then we're going to see if we can find what she needs to fix the truck."
"You finally decided on a name?"
The gynoid, Amity, nodded, "Valentine helped me pick. And the name works regardless of language, which I understand will be quite useful."
"Hmm, Amity. Well alright, what do you need for the truck?"
"The damage is not so bad," she explained, "I already patched some of the holes when I went out to check on things-"
I glanced back out into the blizzard, and raised an eyebrow, "You did?"
She nodded gravely, "The village's power reserves will only hold out so long, and besides, I'm not susceptible to the cold."
"Trying to return home without the truck would be rather unpleasant," Valentine added, "To say nothing of the time it would take."
"Right, we're on a timetable," I agreed.
"Hence the coat," the gynoid explained, "Searching the town will be easier with your assistance, and neither can we wait to leave until the storm has passed. We need tubing and wiring to fix cut power cables and fuel lines, possibly some machine oil as well, if we can find it. The snow under the vehicle's engine was sodden with the stuff, and I do not know how it might run without proper lubrication."
Valentine caught my eye with a wry smile, but I just rolled my eyes.
"It would run. Maybe long enough to get us back home, maybe," I stressed, "But that would be it, the engine wouldn't take long to seize, and after that, it would never run again."
Amity nodded, and the sewing machine whirred as she put in another row of stitches, "Coat, wiring, tubing, oil. Is there anything else that you think we might need?"
I lifted my arms from my sides, gesturing vaguely about the room, "We might need all of this," I pulled a bolt of blue silk from a nearby cubby, "Man, even this cloth could be worth a fortune back in Parabuteo. But we've only got the one quarter ton truck to move it all," I shook my head, "I'm not even sure we can fit everything we decided to take from the treasure vault."
"We can always return later," Val added sleepily, "Blizzards aside, we're within a day's travel, even on foot. We can take trips back here to gather supplies as we need to."
I sat down next to Val, and she took my hand in both of hers. Val's flight suit was zipped down to the navel, though she still had her shift beneath. She held my hand to her chest, just below her neck, and seemed content to lay there just like that.
"I'm just trying to puzzle out the timeline here," I mused, idly drumming my fingers on Val's chest, "You're at a full charge now? I think you said that's enough for ninety-six hours of activity?"
She glanced up from her work long enough to smile warmly at the two of us and gave a nod of agreement.
Yeah, I did feel a little sheepish, but what the hell. Val didn't mind, and Amity seemed to think the two of us were pretty cute together. Maybe I just needed to get over myself.
"Four days? How long if you sleep, or whatever your equivalent is."
"If I sleep as frequently and as long as a human does, just shy of five and a half days. But I can push it to eight if I spend most of the day asleep."
"In a perfect world, you'd stay here where we know you have power till I can get things going back at the hotel. But I've got no idea how long that would take, less than ninety-six hours I hope, but who the hell knows. Not to mention that I've got no idea when you might lose power here."
"I told you," Val declared, "The man is absolutely obsessive, it really is quite charming."
"Do not overburden yourself," Amity soothed, "Might what you suggest work? Perhaps, but I suspect that any time gained, would be equalled by that lost to managing the logistics. Though I appreciate the consideration you're giving my plight."
The bell hanging above the door rang as Amity pushed it open, the cheery sound at odds with the macabre scene we'd stepped into. Val shivered as the door swung shut behind us, and I caught the bell to stop it from ringing again.
The shop was full of body parts. They hung on the walls, were set out on shelves, and displayed within glass-topped cabinets. Most of them looked human, though some of the limbs lacked the skin-like covering of the others.
It was as if someone had combined a computer hardware store with a butcher shop. There were sections for particular brand names, posters showing how someone might combine different parts, even a clearance section in one corner. But instead of out-of-box monitors and RMAed graphics cards, there was a pile of mismatched limbs in various skin tones.
Val looked like she was about to be sick, I didn't think someone with purple skin could turn green, but damn was she trying her best. Amity, well, the gynoid looked as if she was hoping someone would step out from behind the counter. Someone she could tear into pieces small enough to be displayed with the rest of the store's wares. As for myself, I just felt... sad.
It was one of those situations where I knew I should probably be saying something comforting. But as usual, I had no idea what that would be.
"Amity-" Val began.
"We've searched half a dozen stores, and still haven't found what we need. We will find it here. Besides," she grimaced, "I need to do some shopping."
And that's when a terrible thought occurred to me.
"What does it take to turn all this into a working model? Amity-" I had no good way to phrase this, so I just asked her, "Are we going to need to decide whether or not to turn these people on?"
Amity stopped by a case that had a collection of arm assemblies on display, but did not turn to face me, "If we did build these parts out into more droids," she began quietly, "What would you want to do with them?"
"Honestly, I have no idea," I admitted, "I mean, they'd be people, so it would be up to them. My only concern is that I might not be able to keep them all powered."
"That's your only worry?" Amity asked evenly.
"Yeah, I'll be honest here Amity, I'm not even sure I can keep your batteries charged. I don't even know how to generate electricity with magic. I've got some ideas, but then there's scaleability to consider, what if 'success' means generating just a few hundred watts?" I rubbed at my temples, trying to banish the headache I could already feel approaching, "I don't know, I guess I'll figure it out."
"It's okay Wallace," Amity replied gently, "A place like this would not sell droid cores, such things are tightly controlled. No, you need not worry about taking several dozen more of my kind under your wing. Though I would like your help installing some of these parts. I'm not fond of the body the prince chose for me, and I'd like to take the opportunity you've given me to make some adjustments. Valentine, there are some replacement parts over on that shelf, could you-"
Valentine nodded, already heading over to gather up what we needed.
"Alright then Amity, what are we looking for?"
"I'm a service droid. The prince's mother spared no expense when deciding upon my appearance, but I am very nearly as fragile as a human. I'm not compatible with combat droid parts, but there are parts here to modify a service droid to serve as a covert bodyguard."
She gestured to the case she was standing next to, "This one has claws hidden in the forearm, that one has a short-barreled rifle, plenty to choose from."
"What about the pair you have now?" I stepped up beside her and started reading through the labels, "Stabbing people is cool, I get it, but people need fixing a lot more than they need stabbing."
Amity nodded thoughtfully, "A quad torso, then."
"A what now?"
"A torso with two sets of shoulders."
"That's something we can replace?"
"Mmm-hmm, I'd get a battery upgrade at the same time, if not for the fact that I believe I already have the model with the most capacity," Amity mused, "We'll have to swap them into the new torso."
"Amity, I'm a pretty smart dude, but there's only so much I can figure out on the spot."
"It's not terribly complicated," she assured me, "It's work meant to be done by the house's human servants, or a particularly interested noble. Here, forearm claws it is."
I tucked Amity's selection under one arm and followed her as she made her way over to a glass-fronted cabinet that was covered by red velvet curtains. Nearby hung a sign that read "Betty's Best Burlesque", with a smaller one atop the cabinet that declared its contents to be 'torsos'.
Amity drew the curtains aside and-
"Guess I know what the curtains are for, Christ."
"My current torso is a Betty's, I'm given to understand it's the best," she said wryly.
"But more importantly, they make this one," Amity explained, as she lifted one, somewhat larger than her own, and handed it to me, "Built on a sturdier frame, with double shoulders, and thicker plating."
I hesitated for a moment before taking it, careful to find a safe handhold.
"What about the legs? Maybe something with foot claws?" I suggested.
"Mmm, I was just going to find something with stronger servos, but you do make a good point... Ah, here. 'The Lioness'," she read, "Better servos, 'The Lionesses Claws', it should even add a few inches to my height. You look like you've got your hands full," she observed, picking up the legs, "Come on in to the back, there should be a workshop, and I want to get these parts attached as quickly as possible."
I glanced over my shoulder on my way over to the door, "Val?"
"I'm good," she promised, "I think I've found what we need. You help Amity, and I'll finish up here."
The backroom looked a lot like a dentist's office, though last time I'd been to the dentist, there hadn't been quite so many limbs strewn about. Thankfully there was a clear workbench next to one of the not-quite-dental chairs, and the two of us set down Amity's new equipment.
"Anything I should know before we start? Is this going to hurt you?"
She shook her head, and began to disrobe, "I'll be okay, Wallace. Just listen carefully, follow my instructions, and everything will be fine."
"Okay, well, sorry if I'm a little nervous. It's just. I kinda find the whole concept of taking apart a living creature a little stressful."
"Yes, well, don't forget to put me back together as well."
"Yeah, of course, no biggie."
Amity stripped out of the rest of her clothes, and totally, spectacularly nude, laid back in the chair. I let out a long breath, flipped on the examination lights, and stepped up beside her.
"Alright, where do I start?"
She extended her arm, "Arms and torso need to come off, then the new torso and arms can go back on. Just push down on the collar bone here- yes, just like that."
There was a soft click, and I rotated the arm by the shoulder until it came loose. I set it carefully on the bench and did the same for the other arm.
"Alright, good so far," Amity soothed, "Though your hands are perhaps a little clammy."
I wiped my hands on my jeans, "I don't know why you're so calm, you're the one who's missing her arms."
"You're here," she said matter of factly.
I chuckled, and shook my head, "What's next?"
"Now you need to take apart my torso. We'll be keeping the batteries and the spine. Everything else should come off easily enough. Just above my hips, yes that's right, now lift, and the front should come right off."
And so it did. I didn't see a seam, but it separated from just below the navel, right up to the neck. The entire front half of her upper body came right off, and I set it on the bench with the other pieces.
I'd been expecting complex electronics, maybe some forged steel and milled aluminium. But instead, her insides seemed remarkably simple. There were the batteries, with glowing conduits leading away, and a spine that appeared to be brass. A far cry from the absolute mess of mechanics and wiring I'd been expecting. For all I knew, maybe her people did have magic, and this is how they used it. Hard to say really. After all, where was the line between technology and sufficiently understood magic?
"Alright, now help me roll over and take off the rest."
Once I removed the rear section of her torso, it was easy enough to put the new parts on. She guided me through taking apart the new torso, and after removing the spine and battery bank that had come with it, attached the two new halves and connected the power conduits for the new arm mounts.
I had just finished attaching her new combat arms to the upper set of shoulders when Valentine stepped in. Cradled in both arms was yet another set of arms, ones she'd selected herself it seemed. Val stopped dead upon the threshold, and her cheeks coloured as her gaze lingered on Amity.
"Wow," she muttered, then coughed, "Ahem, I've found something you might like. I heard what Wallace mentioned about keeping your medical capability."
"Thank you, but I think we've found what we need though. Wallace hasn't reconnected them yet, but this new torso lets me keep my old arms as well."
"Ah, but I think I've found something even better than the old pair," Val explained, "After I found what we need for the truck, and got over the urge to vomit, I poked around a little to see if I could help. These have the same medical and mechanical repair... I don't know, thingies. But they also have coils to discharge electric shocks, and fingernails that extend into razor-sharp steel claws. They can also dispense lubricant, though I'm not certain that's quite as useful," she admitted.
"Where the hell did you find those?"
"And why do they dispense lubricant?" Amity frowned.
"They're part of a set for assembling what I believe The Blushing Maiden would call a 'governess'."
For a moment, I thought Amity was going to respond with an angry rebuke, but her expression softened. Instead, a smile slowly spread across her face. Val helped me attach the two new arms, and Amity drew her into an embrace.
"Thank you."
"You are quite welcome, I think I like the new you."
"Oh, I noticed," Amity replied with a smirk, and the two separated, "But Wallace isn't quite done-"
I heard the bell ring, accompanied by the sound of howling wind, and a shout of, "Where is that damnable giant."
I hadn't yet heard the princeling's voice, but when I saw Amity tremble and turn white as a sheet, I knew who was waiting for us in the front room.
"I'll stall," Val hissed, "You two finish."
And with that, she was through the half-opened door in a flash of movement, and it swept shut after her.
"Come on, how do I get these off?"
"W-what?" Amity stammered.
I put a hand on her shoulder and leaned in close, "Amity, I'm not going to pretend to understand- well, anything." I pointed at the door, beyond which I could already hear a muffled argument, "But right now, out there, is a tiny little lunatic that's ready to go toe to toe with the prince and his buddies. All just to buy us the time we need to put you back together."
She nodded stiffly and told me where to press and turn. The legs came off nearly as quickly as the arms did. I'd just picked up the first of the replacement limbs, when I heard a muffled voice, male, just on the other side of the door.
There was a soft click as the latch began to turn, followed by a yowl that might have come from an angry mountain lion, and a crash. The collision was violent enough to take pictures off the wall, but I paid little mind to the breaking glass.
I heard the last click, and spread my hands, "Alright, both work?"
She wriggled her toes and flexed her legs experimentally, then looked up at me, more than a little worry in her eyes, and nodded.
"Alright, you get dressed, I'm going to go back up Val."
If I was smart, I'd have brought the axe with me when searching the shops, but I wasn't, so I hadn't. Instead, I straightened and turned to the door. Slowly, and with purpose, I ducked through and pulled it shut behind.
The moment seemed to freeze as the door clicked shut. On the floor, next to the door, was Prince Guillaume. The prince was on his back and had just put one of his hands behind him to push himself up. His face was all beat up on the right side, and his neck all red. I could still make out the outline of the tiny fingers that had been choking him.
Standing over him was Matt, who was holding Valentine up off the ground by her hair. Her eyelids were fluttering, and while she was moving a little, her tiny body was all but limp. I could see a large bruise forming on her brow above the eye.
"Shoot him," the prince demanded.
Will, the only one not otherwise occupied, had been standing in the middle of the store, looking adrift in the wind. But with the command given, he brought his weapon up to level, the barrel pointed at my chest.
I turned, and looked at him. Looked him dead in the eyes, and he hesitated.
Hell, for all I knew, Will was probably an okay guy. A giant stupid asshole, but, you know, okay. Honestly, a lot of people are giant stupid assholes, even I'm kind of a giant stupid asshole sometimes. But Will, it seemed, was not the kind of giant stupid asshole who would shoot a man just because a different giant stupid asshole told him to.
But he was still pointing a gun at me, so I had to be sure.
"If you shoot me, I will kill you, and it will hurt the whole time you're dying."
Will's voice was tight, with just the slightest hint of waver in it, but his words came out clearly, "These are hollow points."
I shrugged, "And?"
I turned, as I heard movement from the trio by the door, and saw that Matt was gently lowering Val to the ground. Her hands grasped aimlessly at the shelves as he let her down, but her limbs weren't quite responding, and she ended up sitting on the ground next to the prince.
"What did you do?" I asked him simply.
"Well she was choking the dude, I tried to make her stop, but she was choking him. It's not like I can just let her kill the guy so," he swallowed, "I hit her. With the but of my gun."
"Do you want to live?"
"Hey man, I get that you're worried about your girl-"
I crossed the distance in a single step and grabbed for his submachine gun. He pulled it away, so I went for his arm and hauled him around until I could get ahold of his gun. I put my other hand on his chest, and pulled it away, snapping the strap as I did.
And then I took the gun in both hands and snapped it in half.
"So Simon has the stormtrooper, makes sense you wouldn't take up with him. Then there's me, but we both know how that worked out. So you side with this idiot, makes sense, I guess. But you're not a total fucking idiot. It's only been a day, but I bet you're already starting to get an understanding of just what sort of man the prince is. Even still, you've got to protect the guy. And you did, fair enough I suppose. But that's how these things start, isn't it? One thing leads to another, and something that started small ends in all-out war. So either we can short circuit that right here, or I can kill you, then the prince, then Will. The prince, now I don't think I'd mind killing him. Honestly wish I'd done it sooner. But you and Will are just a couple of idiots caught in an absolutely fucked situation."
"What the fuck do you want from me, man?"
"Somewhere out there are Simon and his angels. Go find them, tell them that Val is hurt and that she needs help now."
It took only a glance between the two men, once I'd let Matt out from where I'd had him all but pinned against the shelf, to decide that doing what I'd asked was an excellent idea. And the two were on their way looking for Simon without further argument.
The prince said something I didn't bother hearing, and reminded of his presence, I picked him up by the collar. Again, the thought occurred just to kill him then and there. I wouldn't necessarily even be breaking my word to Matt and Will. But if I was going to do this leadership thing, I'd need to take care in curating my reputation. Killing this idiot wasn't the best way to do that.
So I tossed him into the far corner and told him not to go anywhere.
I knelt next to Val and brushed her hair away from the growing bruise, "Val, you okay?" I whispered.
She nodded, and then clutched at her head, "Ohhh..." she muttered weakly, "Not gonna do that again."
I held up my hand, "How many fingers."
"Six," she glowered, "I didn't get hit that hard."
"You kinda did."
Val sighed, "Bugger me, I got hurt, again."
"I'd tell you that I'll take care of everything, but I don't want you to break your hand slapping me upside the head."
"See? You're learning. Now would you help me up?"
"Just hold on a second, if those two know what's good for them- Ah, they're here."
The bell rang, and Simon and Victoria blew in with the wind, with Will and Matt not far behind.
"Over here," I said with a wave of the hand.
Victoria and Simon came to kneel by Val, who seemed irritated by the attention, while Matt and Will checked on their charge. I got a reproachful look from Matt but rolled my eyes. The idiot was still alive, what more did he want?
"She's going to be fine," Simon assured me.
I'd been too busy looking over at the prince and his new buddies to catch what he'd used for the spell, but Simon had cast something. Not that Val looked any better for it.
"I know," Val grumbled.
"Going to be fine," he repeated, "Right now you're all beat up," he handed me a tin, much like the one Temerity had kept her healing ointment in.
"Apply that before she goes to bed and after she wakes up-"
"I'm right here! I can use the stupid heal goo myself!"
"It'll take a few days, just make sure she gets enough rest."
"Aren't you the Body wizard? You're telling me you can't just fix this?"
He shook his head, "Healing magic is fucking complicated. Stuff like the ointment, it's safe. All it does is nudge the body to heal as it would naturally, only a little faster, and provides the energy needed to do it. Actual healing spells are more like invasive surgery, best not to do it unless the body can't sort things out on its own.
"What did you cast then?"
"Magic MRI, more or less. She's going to have a headache for a while, maybe feel a little dizzy, but there's no damage to the brain itself. Having a cartilage skeleton makes fey tougher than you'd think."
"That's all well and good," intruded a poncy little voice, "Now there are more pressing matters to attend to."
I put a staying hand on Val, and though she shot me a look, she stayed where she was as the rest of us stood.
"Is this the dipshit you and Cilla rescued?"
"Yes," Victoria agreed, "This is he."
The prince fixed Simon with his best haughty sneer, "I expect such behaviour from the giant, but I'd thought someone in your position would have the character to show a little respect."
"Hey buddy, I'm the guy who commands land and people. You're just some jackoff with a smashed airship."
"You are, of course, mistaken," the prince replied, "These two fellows have informed me of the local situation, and as this land was once of my world, I've seen fit to claim it in my own name. As such, I'll have no more of this looting of my property."
"Are you two fellows" Simon mocked, "Sure you want to stick with this guy?"
"The fuck else are we going to do?" Matt sighed, and Prince Guillaume did not seem pleased to hear this remark, "Wallace is a psycho, and you've got Jankin. We're not exactly overwhelmed by options here."
"There is another," Simon offered.
"That's quite enough," Guillaume cut in, "Come you two, we're leaving."
There was a shared look between the two rebels, and Will spoke, "Nah, say your bit, Simon."
"There are three entire cities out there, full of people who'd be glad to hire you. They'll pay you enough to live as well as anyone can in this world. You don't need to join my little club, just stick around till we get to the city. We'll leave early tomorrow, probably be there by dinner. I'll even make a few introductions," Simon offered.
"Fuckin' sold."
"You two promised me-" Guillaume began.
"Would you please shut up?" Matt sighed, "The only promise we made was to help you stake your claim. And these two are leaving anyway, right?"
Simon nodded, and I did as well. Assuming Amity could get the truck patched up before dusk, we could very well be spending the night back at the hotel.
"Well there you go, buddy," Will said with false cheer, "Job done, we're leaving."
Guillaume looked at each one of us in turn, making a show of memorizing our faces I suppose, before turning to leave. He paused on the threshold, his hand on the door, and glanced back, "I'll not forget this," he declared. And with that, he was gone into the blizzard.
"Melodramatic motherfucker isn't he?" Will observed.
Simon shrugged, "He's not our problem any more. Wallace here is the one that's got to put up with him as a neighbour though. No, just," Simon waved off their questions, "I'll explain later. For now, Victoria, would you please take them over to where we're loading the glider?"
"Certainly," she agreed.
A moment later, only Simon, myself, and Val remained.
"Don't tell me you're going to fly that thing out of here."
"God no, it comes apart," Simon explained, "One of my girls made this little magic engine, rearrange a few things and it rebuilds into a sort of motorized wagon. It's not quick enough to get us back to the city before dusk, but tomorrow is Last Light. The Long Night will give us plenty of leeway, even if the blizzard gives us trouble. What about you? I saw your truck, do you need a ride?"
"No, we can fix it. I'll be sleeping in my own bed tonight."
Simon spread his hands, "Fine by me, but you should know, I saw something on the flight over that might interest you. Particularly with this dickhead hanging around here."
I felt a sudden tug on my wrist, and I looked down with a start to see Val hauling herself to her feet. She held onto my arm for balance, but otherwise put on a strong face.
"Go on," she prompted.
Simon smirked, but did as she asked, "Maybe twenty-five miles from your tower block is a castle. Not sure how long it's been there, but there's a whole village built up around it. The thing's not done, but from what I saw, the castle came along with all its people too."
"It can't have been that long," Val considered, "That's near enough to make the journey in a single day, we would have seen some evidence if they'd been poking around before we arrived."
"I don't know, a bunch of medieval villagers, most of them probably never travelled anywhere near that far from home. And that's before their world got turned upside down. They're probably not keen on the idea of running around getting into trouble with strangers."
Simon spread his hands, "Whatever you two decide, the prince will probably have his eye on them too, once he learns they're there. Even half a castle is more than he has now. And he'll need people to farm for him if he doesn't want to starve out here."
"Wallace and I shall consider our options. Thank you for sharing this information with us."
The shorter man nodded absently as he began buttoning his coat. "Thirty degrees north, more or less, twenty-five miles out, more or less."
"And don't forget," he added, before stepping out into the cold. "Ointment in the morning, and ointment before bed."
Valentine gave him a little wave, and he too departed.
"He's just telling us about the castle to fuck over the prince."
"Quite."
Val was still a little unsteady on her feet, but I got her into the back room and sat her down where I'd been working on Amity. As for Amity, well, she was mostly dressed. She'd been hovering by the door, clad only in the apron from the cafe, worry written all over her face. But that quickly turned to a pained wince when she saw Val.
"I am so very sorry, I just-"
"You've got nothing to apologize for, Amity," I assured her.
"Look at her," Amity cried.
"I've had worse," Val muttered, "But I'd prefer not to spend another night here. The parts we need are-" she waved a hand vaguely, "Can you..."
"I'll take care of it," Amity promised.
And without another word or scrap of clothing, Amity was through the door with a fervour.
I looked down at myself, and at the coat Amity had sewn me to replace the one I'd so foolishly lost. It was dark grey rather than black, and the style was a little different, but the cut and fit were superb. Though that likely had something to do with the coat being tailored to me. It was a damn sight better than the quadruple extra large I'd had modified back home.
"Maybe we should have given her a little time to make something for herself," I suggested.
"We do have plenty of clothing back at the hotel," Val commented, and though she was trying to put on a strong face, I could hear the pain in her voice, "She's sure to like something. I don't know, maybe I'll grab a few things from the dressmaker's shop, just in case."
"Why don't I grab some things from the dressmaker's shop, and you relax," I told her, then grimaced, "Not that I want to leave either of you alone right now."
"Aww, you are just so sweet," Val smiled, "But I'll be fine," she reached into the front of her jumpsuit and withdrew one of her big wheellocks, "Amity's the one that needs help right now, I'll be along in a bit, I promise."
For the first time in a very long while, I wondered if I might be hallucinating this whole experience. Everything since getting hit by the dump truck and meeting Temerity. I mean, what else was I supposed to think as the image of Amity working on the truck resolved itself out of the icy fog. There she was, with the front of the truck taken apart, grease and engine oil smeared on her hands, apron, and face. I'd just taken her apart for fuck's sake, but here she was, looking as human as ever. Just so long as you ignored the extra set of arms, and the fact she was standing all but naked in the middle of a blizzard, none the worse for wear.
I pulled my toque, also a creation of Amity, down tighter around my ears as I approached. I was careful as I did, not to sneak up on her. I didn't know what her ears were like, but knew that at least I couldn't hear much of anything over the howling wind, so I was sure to approach within her eye line.
She glanced up as I drew nearer, and because nothing in this entire situation made sense, I just asked the question that was on my mind.
"What's your favourite colour?" I shouted, to the sentient robot, over the noise of the howling wind, while standing in the middle of Steampunk Napoleonic Disneyland.
Amity, it seemed, was unfazed by the insanity of the situation, and after a moment replied with a shout of, "Red.”
“Why?" she asked, beckoning me forwards into the relative shelter of the raised hood.
It wasn't much, but it did enough to make speaking a little easier.
"Gonna loot the dress shop before we clear out, we've got clothes back home, but I'm gonna grab some things in case you'd like to make something of your own."
Her reply was quiet, but I caught the shape of the words, even as the wind carried the sound of them away.
Thankfully it seemed that the prince hadn't checked the shop as he'd been searching for us, as surely the three of them would have tracked snow everywhere if they'd been through the place. As it was, the floor was clean and dry, at least until I started stomping around. My first stop was at the weapons, and axe, rifles, and ammo all went over one shoulder.
Near the back was a big sack of undyed yarn, which I promptly dumped out onto the floor. I still had my doubts about the safety of the dyes these people used, but green was the only one that came to mind as being particularly likely to contain awful things. Red then, was probably fine. Granted, it was for Amity, and I doubted she had to worry about whether her clothing contained lead or arsenic. Though there was always the chance we'd come into contact with it as well.
With that in mind, I also stuffed some raw cotton and silk into the sack, along with the selection of reds that I thought Amity might like. At least this way we'd have something safe to use, patching clothing and the like.
With the sack stuffed full, I did one last circuit of the shop, top to bottom, to make sure we'd not left anything behind. Finding nothing, I tied the top of the sack tight and stepped back out into the cold.
Val was with Amity at the truck by the time I returned. She sat in the cab with her hands tucked under her arms, shivering a little in the cold. My things went into the bed of the truck, and I came around to the front to see how Amity was doing.
"How are we so far?"
"We're about to find out," she called back, "I just finished replacing the oil. I warmed it a little inside. Hopefully, it will be enough for this to start in the cold."
Amity pushed the rod aside, and let the hood drop the last few inches. It shut with a clang, and she gave Val a nod.
The little fey shivered once and leaned down out of view. A moment later, I heard the starter motor chug for a moment, then catch, and the truck shuddered as it coughed to life.
Amity allowed herself a satisfied smile and wiped all four of her greasy hands on the front of her apron.
"Are you going to be okay? Riding in the back, I mean."
"Not much else to do really, I'll manage. Now come on, get in so we can pick up our winnings and get the hell out of here."
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