Chapter Text
I look up at the Stargazer. Likely the largest in the entire city. It acts as the centerpiece for the sometimes haunted Hotel of Krat. Lavish and strong, it represents everything I used to wish I could be. Now, I admire it humbly as I wait with painful suspense for him to arrive.
He’s strong. But I knew this long before finding him. Geppetto’s work is unmatched, and it is no wonder that he invested every corner of his brilliant mind into recreating a vestige of his lost son. This puppet will be his salvation, my salvation, everyone’s salvation. I close my eyes and focus intently upon the dim light of his Ergo just a block from the hotel.
“One more thing I should mention,” I call out to him as he approaches. “The hotel security excludes puppets like you. So you’ll have to lie to get inside. You’re a special puppet after all.”
His pace slows. The doors to the hotel are massive. He won’t be able to push his way through, regardless of his super-human strength. I’m imagining he’s standing upon the destroyed bodies of the dozens who’ve tried.
After a few moments, his life shines brighter, closer.
The door to the foyer opens and my eyes open.
We meet between the Stargazer and the entryway.
“I’m so happy to see you,” I say, smiling softly.
I’ve never seen a puppet more convincing of humanity than him, which is likely why his expressionless countenance is so discomforting. He does not gaze around the new environment, he does not look me up and down as most men do, and he says nothing in response to my greeting. The round face that Geppetto modeled after his late son seems as though it should be waxing and waning with the unpredictable moods of one so emotionally vulnerable, but it remains stoic, more like a clay statue lovingly massaged into shape than a living face. Despite this, I find myself distracted by his humanly pink lips and the freckles scattered on his cheeks like wildflowers in a spring field.
“I am Sophia,” I introduce myself. “I’ve been waiting for you, searched all over the city of Krat to find you. You must have questions, Geppetto will have answers.” Even the mention of his father’s name provokes no reaction. “But we have to find him first. He was last seen on Elysion Boulevard. All of Krat is dangerous for humans, and that neighborhood is one of the scariest. Please, find him. I will explain more once he’s safely returned.”
He blinks and maintains eye contact with me through my explanation. The blue of his eyes swim with the latent Ergo he’s gathered from battling his way here.
“I can use my power to help you.” I step closer to him, able to reach his chest if I so wished. “You’ve gathered Ergo from the puppets you’ve slain, but it's volatile. It won’t stay if you fall and it won’t lend you strength in its current state.” His hand rises to his chest where the swell of power hums erratically. “If you will allow it, I can convince it to reinforce you.”
He looks up from his hand. With his head at such an angle, one would think he’s glaring at me, and I’m suddenly reminded of his physical strength and the unpredictable behavior of all puppets as of late. I swallow the thick spit accumulating in the back of my mouth and stand resolute in my sudden fear. Seconds after the blossom of apprehension, he raises his head to nod. My mouth parts slightly in a heavy exhale.
Very slowly, I raise my hand. The shirt he’s wearing cuts low into his chest, revealing his collar bones and a fair bit of the pale skin below them. I notice his neck is mostly free of his dappled freckles, but they resume at the top his chest, carefree and begging to be touched. My ring and pinky finger land upon the white ruffles of his collar, but my first and middle finger betray my unspoken thoughts, feeling the realness of his skin at the edge of his left pectoral.
I’m shocked to find him warm. Could this be the Ergo expressing power? It’s never been used for puppets in such a way before. To move, or to lift, or to speak. To fight, or to defend, or to shelter. In him it has been used for these things, or else he would not have arrived here in one piece. But also it expands his chest with mimicked breath, it blinks his eyes that need no moisture, and it apparently also heats his body to a human temperature. Geppetto has considered so much. Were these things really necessary?
With the Egro writhing under my touch, I glance up at his face. Expecting him to be watching my hand, as he had done earlier with his own, I’m startled to find him staring intently at my face.
“Ehm,” I sputter. “Is there anything in particular you’d like me to improve?”
He blinks, then tilts his head slowly towards his right shoulder.
Puppets talk. It’s not weird to hold conversations with them. They aren’t usually very engaging, as they’ve been designed for specific purposes, like plumbing or driving carriages, but they answer questions and greet people when acknowledged. Hell, I’ve spoken with the hotel’s puppet bellhop Polendina behind me more than a couple times. So why does he not speak? Expression through speech may be one of the most human things a person can do. Geppetto could not have overlooked this fact.
I scrutinize him while I await his answer.
He has to be able to speak, I realize. It’s the only way he could have lied to get in here.
“Well?” I ask, a bit impatiently as I can’t postulate why he’s denied me his voice.
His head tilts back but he remains silent. Silent and expressionless.
“Okay,” I decide. His survival is tantamount to all else. I gather the Ergo to reinforce his body and stamina. When I step back, taking my hand with me, he finally looks away. “The way to Elysion Boulevard is through the rear entrance.” I point to the door at the back of the foyer. “But before you go,” I say and hold an item out to him, “take this.”
His brow twitches a bit and he takes the pocket watch, holding it up in his human hand to gaze at it. Thumbing the butterfly on the casing’s surface, he redirects his attention back at me.
“It’s a magical item that I’ve infused with some of my own power,” I explain. “You can use it to activate a distant Stargazer. It will call upon your body and the Ergo resonating within you, transporting you there immediately. Here, too.” I wave up to the parent Stargazer.
I watch with some concern as he slips it into his pants’ pocket, hoping he won’t lose it. In addition to being extremely difficult to make, it is also very precious to me, as it once belonged to my mother, being one of the only gifts she’d ever bestowed to me.
“Please, be careful, clever one,” I insist after he takes a step away from me, towards the back door.
He pauses and I think he might say something, but after a few moments of anxious eye contact, he passes the Stargazer to the back door. As his footsteps echo across the foyer’s vast floors, a second pair approach me from the right.
“Is that Geppetto’s puppet?”
I turn to see Eugenie walking towards me but looking at the too-human puppet’s retreating form. Her thick leather apron is the only thing signifying she’d have anything to do with blacksmithing. As petit as she is, I wonder how she crafts and maintains weapons of such robust materials.
“It is,” I answer, folding my hands politely in front of me.
Eugenie stomps a foot. “Why didn’t you send him my way? I could have tempered his sword!”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I apologize.
“Not that…” She slouches speculatively with a hand rising to her chin. “I have the materials necessary to do so, but I could have at least told him what to bring me so that I could!”
“Right…” I say reluctantly.
“Where’s he going?” she asks.
“I’ve sent him to retrieve Geppetto.”
“On Elysion Boulevard?”
“Yes.”
“Think he’ll make it back?” She winces.
It is likely impossible for him not to with me supervising his Ergo but that’s not something I’m willing to share with her. To Eugenie’s knowledge, I am something of a witch, able to manipulate Ergo at will. And that’s not quite inaccurate of a description, but the extent of what I can do I intend to keep vague. Already a slave, I don’t need my salvation to come from some other ruthless baron. If Geppetto’s puppet’s silent nature has one advantage, it would be that he won’t ask questions I can’t answer.
“I hope so,” is what I say to her instead.
It’s half a day later, deep into the night when he returns. Geppetto enters shortly after him, completely unharmed. He doesn’t even look afraid or nervous about being out in the city seized by murderous puppets. They’ve killed hundreds of people, so it’s a bit silly of me to consider whether or not they can kill their creator, but the question undoubtedly crosses my mind.
I make eye contact with the older man, whose narrow slightly before looking away. Holding out an arm, he guides his puppet son up the stairs and I observe their path to Geppetto’s resident room above the foyer. I hear the door close but can’t see it as it’s directly above me.
More than a bit curious, I quietly follow their footsteps. The only person able to regard me as I do this, is the bellhop Polendina, who remains stationary behind the service counter. When I reach the corner of the balcony, a few strides from the door, I hear Geppetto’s earnest voice, low and coaxing. I cannot make out what is being said, but I can notice that his son still does not speak, or if he does, it must be a whisper. I risk moving closer. The hotel is essentially empty. I’m only truly at risk of being caught by Geppetto himself, of whom I would hear approaching the door before it would open to reveal me eavesdropping.
Even with my ear to the door, I can’t hear complete sentences. The words I do hear are strung together in an understanding that Geppetto is asking his son to embark on a further dangerous task. Rescue the genius inventor Venigni from his factory besieged but puppets and return him to the sanctuary of the hotel.
A chair moves and I jump away from the door. Rushing to the nearby ottoman, I sit and attempt to look patiently waiting. If Geppetto asks, I simply wished to improve his son’s chances by emboldening him with his gathered Ergo.
The door doesn’t open though and I can't catch the low hum of voices either.
Should I listen at the door again? What could they be doing? If his son was still human, I would guess he’d be resting, but puppets don’t sleep. Could he be modifying him? I really don’t know much of anything about puppet construction. His left arm is a device I can see working and only wonder how. Perhaps it is that?
I’m unsure how long I considered the things Geppetto could be doing, eventually the door does open to reveal his puppet. Looking a bit cleaner than when he first returned to the hotel, he quietly closes the door behind him and strides around the balcony, in the opposite direction of me unfortunately. I’m temporarily distracted by two dirty, half-broken dolls hanging from his belt and bouncing against his behind as he walks.
Standing as soon as the dolls become hidden by the waist-high railing, I open my mouth to call out to him. But Geppetto’s looming door beside me reminds me of my secrecy and I instead rush up behind him before he can successfully exit the hotel.
“Ah, um, excuse me,” I say, halfway between grabbing his arm, my hands extending and retracting indecisively.
He turns and stops with a single motion, resulting in me almost crashing into him. Although I’m able to catch myself before doing so, I end up right in front of him, our noses almost booping.
“I’m sorry,” I apologize immediately and take a step back. Folding my hands tightly in front of me, I swallow to reopen my tense throat for speech. “You are leaving again?”
His dark blue eyes regard me, then look briefly at his father’s door over my shoulder, and back. He nods, turning his whole body to face me now. I suppose that rules out my hopes that Geppetto was busy enabling him to speak.
“Will you allow me to help you?”
His head cocks. Inquisitive, I think.
“The Ergo you’ve gathered,” I remind him. “Just as before, it won’t power your body until I tell it to. You’ve quite a bit more available to you then last time. I’m…” My lips roll together. “Impressed.” The foot long handle of his greatsword stands proudly over his shoulder. As I look at it, I see remnants of something red have gathered in its grip.
Couldn’t be blood, right?
“Did you kill someone?” I ask reluctantly.
The false breathing stops. His features might not express, but they tremble, as if they strain against his emotions.
First looking away from me, he then quickly turns and almost runs. One of the dolls breaks loose when he reaches the stairs and bounces across the floor back towards me. Noticing immediately, he looks between me and the doll, contemplating going back for it as he’s halfway down the steps already.
“Please wait,” I beg him. Quickly retrieving the doll, I see that it’s a little police officer. He doesn’t bolt when I approach to hold the token out to him and I smile encouragingly. “I’m sorry if that question sounded like an accusation. I just…” About to say that I didn’t think he was like the others, I shut the thought down before it’s vocalized. “I’m more than confident that you did it in defense. You don’t need to say anything.” Not that he would or ever has said anything to me.
He takes the policeman from me and resecures it to his belt.
“I’d still like to grant you the power that the Ergo you’ve gathered can offer you.” I descend the steps to end beside him. “Is that okay?”
A deep breath lasting more than a few seconds pushes his body out and then slowly collapses back in before he nods despondently.
This time I place my entire hand on the skin of his available chest. My smile widens, feeling his realness. Convincing the Egro to serve him perpetually would really take me less time than it did for him to complete that fake breath, but I dawdle, relishing his closeness. There’s a rhythmic feeling beneath the skin. As I said, I know very little of puppet construction, and can only assume it’s some gear twisting synchronistically to keep him running. But it almost feels like a heartbeat.
“There,” I say. Reluctantly removing my hand from him, I use its movement to draw his attention to the left alcove of the foyer. “Before you go, there’s a weaponsmith over there. Eugenie. She talks a lot, but she can strengthen your sword.” He obediently looks to where I’m pointing and nods. “Also,” I continue, sweeping my arm over to the right, “the woman who runs this hotel is in the library over there. Antonia, if you’d like to thank her for this refuge.” I’m not about to have more people ask why I didn’t send him their way. Bringing my hand up to my own chest, I press his diminishing warmth into it. “And please, above all, be safe.”