Chapter 7: Never Take Friends for Granite

Shin waited until the small army of golems was well out of sight and hearing before she turned with such a look of disgust that Cecilia took a step back from the force of it. “You…you…what are you?”

Cantor stepped forward. “Shin, stop! She’s as human as you or–”

“No. You concealed this. The golem at least has a reason to hide itself. You endangered everyone, taught it how to fool us. For what? A scholarly experiment?”

“That’s not fair! I directed her to conceal her nature because I knew people’s backwards fear of magical constructs would create problems. I’m ashamed you’ve proven me right, Shin. I thought better of you.”

“Of me?” Shin’s voice bounced off the nearest trees. “You did not! If you had, you would have told me, let me make my own choice!”

Cecilia took a deep breath. “Stop it, both of you!” A flock of birds took to startled flight at the booming volume. In the wake of their wings, silence descended. Cecilia looked down at her hands, the joints and seams so alien and off putting, even to her.

Especially to her. She had to live with it, after all. She swallowed, and even that motion was wrong in some subtle way. It was easy to ignore when she had a disguise. When Shin wasn’t looking at her like that. “Shin. I’m sorry. I should have come clean about this before we asked you to join up with us, at the very least. Can I explain?”

The Hunter crossed her arms, unable to look at her, but also unable to turn away. She nodded. Cecilia told her story again; this time, filling in the holes she’d let Shin paper over and never corrected. Cantor looked visibly uncomfortable when she disclosed her origins, but Cecilia had made up her mind. She wasn’t going to keep another secret from her first friend on this world. If Shin couldn’t handle it? That would hurt. It already hurt. But at least it would be done.

She told the story all the way up to meeting Shin in the forest, ending, “So, that’s why I was naked. If you were wondering.”

Shin snorted, amused and angry about it. “I always wondered.”

Cantor spoke up, calmer this time, explaining his part in the story, and the deception. “I advised Cecilia not to reveal herself. She is in a golem’s body, but she’s a person. She deserves the right to live, as much as anyone else. And not be caged and harnessed because she came from another world.”

Shin was not at all mollified by his appeal. She snapped at Cecilia, “Did he tell you? That if you had been discovered by the town, it would be assumed we were your controllers? They would call the magistrate. We could have all our money and goods taken away, or even be branded and exiled from the province. At the very least, the Guild would have revoked our membership.”

Cantor winced at Cecilia’s stricken look. “I didn’t mention it because it didn’t seem relevant. It was clear you wished to leave Ikshan, and I thought once we reached more civilized lands, I could find members of the Exalted Circle who would understand your plight.”

“And now, a mad golem-maker wants to burn down the town if we do not give her back! Do not talk about relevance, mage.” She gestured at Cecilia. “You. Tell me. Is your life worth that of a town? Why should we not trade you for them, even if you are exactly what you say you are, and not simply a malfunctioning artifact?”

“You shouldn’t,” Cecilia said. She cut off Cantor’s immediate protest, “No, I’m serious. Even if I wasn’t a golem, and this guy was some random stalker, it wouldn’t be fair for me to ask you to put people’s lives at risk to protect me.”

“But you said he plans to rip your soul out of that body,” Cantor protested. “You can’t give yourself up to him. That’s simply unacceptable.”

Her fingers squeaked when she rubbed her face, and if Cecilia had skin, it would have crawled at the sound. She hated the alien feel of her own limbs when they weren’t covered by the disguise. Not enough to die about it, though. “I won’t. But if–if I can count on you one more time, Shin, then we can rig something up. I can go out to him, but just give me a moment to start running and…I’ll take my chances.” She laughed without humor. “I was able to run from him before. Maybe my real mistake was stopping too soon.”

They stood, a triangle with three opposed sides, where just minutes ago, they had been starting to feel like a cohesive whole. A team. The sky had lost its crimson glow, and was now fully black, and Cecilia tried not to feel like the loss of light was more than physical.

The silence stretched, until Shin turned and started to walk. Cantor and Cecilia exchanged a glance, the former giving a bewildered shrug. They scrambled to catch up with her. She didn’t even acknowledge their presence until they stumbled into the site they’d set up as their base camp. It was small and unmolested, with their bedrolls arrayed around a fire pit, and a woven, waterproof cover strung from three trees to provide shelter from the sky. Shin started a fire, settled down cross legged near it as it caught.

She pulled out her rations. After a moment, the other two did likewise; Cantor had the spell sit their loot gently down on the ground. They ate in silence. Cecilia looked up from a bite of the ration - a dense cake of fatty dried meat and fruit, wrapped in thick leaves that tasted vaguely like spinach - and saw Shin staring.

“How do you eat?” Shin asked.

“I don’t really know. I get hungry. Food goes in, although it never seems to come out. I guess whatever magical processes I have are super efficient.”

“Never comes out?” Her eyebrows arched. A reluctant chortle was ripped out of her. “I suppose that explains how you ate so much of the Moss House’s porridge and yet never passed gas. I thought you had an iron stomach.”

“Nope,” Cecilia said, patting said stomach, “it’s all stone.”

Shin laughed, again. A little less resentfully, this time. “How do you know you’re human?”

“That’s a hell of a question,” Cantor muttered.

Cecilia took another bite, wondering how her stone tongue managed to taste and feel the texture of the food in her mouth. “Cogito ergo sum.” At their baffled expressions, she grinned. “It’s from a language in my world. It means ‘I think, therefore I am’. My existence is defined by my awareness of that existence. It’s the best I have. From my perspective, it doesn’t really matter - to me - whether I’m a human who got pushed off a building and woke up here, or somehow a golem that was born in a moment with a weird, delusional backstory. I’m here. I’m me. I think, therefore I am.”

She added, “And I think I deserve to live. I’ll do what I can to protect the town so you guys don’t suffer because I happened to be there. But I’m alive, and I don’t want to die.”

Shin finished the rest of her ration before she spoke again. “I am angry at you. Both of you.” A sharp bark of amusement. “Which means I must think you are a person, Cecilia. I would not be angry at a thing. Only people can break trust. You have both broken mine.”

Cantor looked more indignant than ashamed. Cecilia, on the other hand, squirmed. “I’m sorry,” she said. “You were my first friend here. I should have trusted you.”

The apology was dismissed with a curt gesture. “Should does not matter. What matters is what we do next. I would not give a person over to someone who would kill her. And a golem-master with so many creations is a threat to the whole town. We must tell the Guild, and prepare to defend Ikshan.”

“I don’t think–” Cantor started.

“You think too much,” Shin snapped at him. “How else will we warn the town? Even if we gave her over, there is no guarantee he would leave us be. Either we will tell Orn, or I will tell the entire town.”

“It’s fine,” Cecilia said. “Might as well. If it goes badly, I can burn that bridge when I come to it.” Shin’s face was strange and hollowed in the flickering orange lights. “And we need to leave Ikshan soon, anyway. None of this makes me less eager to find a way home and out of this,” she gestured at herself, “thing.”

Shin cast a look in her direction, then away. “Must you look like that? Did you have an artifact?”

“It’s a skill, actually. He forced me to stop using it. I think I can bring it back.” But she had hesitated, because if she reached for the doll’s disguise, and it wasn’t there, Cecilia thought she might scream.

It was there. As soon as she flipped that weird little switch in her mind, her body changed - at least to eyes and ears - into something more normal. She let out an explosive sigh of relief. “Better?”

A curt nod was all the acknowledgement she got in return. Cantor looked from one to the other. “Let’s sleep on it. Things have a way of gaining perspective with a new day.”

*

Guildmaster Orn was a very large man, and even seated, his size gave his disappointment extra weight, until it was a suffocating blanket over the adventurers. He had listened to the story - the full story, despite Cantor’s clear displeasure - in silence. Now, he slowly raised one massive hand and scrubbed it over the crags of his face, the hollows of his eyes. It took a while before he opened his eyes again. His disappointment deepened to find the three of them still there.

“I should have you hanged,” he remarked, pleasantly, to Cantor, who colored in response. When he went to sputter a reply, Orn cut it off with one raised hand. “No. You know exactly what you did, and what the penalty is. I have never understood mages. So brilliant in some regards, and so incomprehensibly stupid in others.”

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To Cecilia, he said, “As for you? You are a problem. I very much wish you had run to the east, instead, and found Xcere. Then you'd be their problem. I don’t like Guildmaster Jun, anyway.”

She crossed her arms defensively, and muttered, “Next time someone gets yeeted into your world, provide them with a map.”

He made a low, barely audible sound. For the briefest moment, Cecilia thought she saw wry amusement flash in his eyes, but when she looked again, there was nothing but weariness. “Noted, if I should ever be in the position to pass on the recommendation. I have orders regarding golems, and Travelers. Standing orders - which, unfortunately, contradict themselves. Because golems are illegal in this province, the Guild is directed to destroy any they find.” Cecilia tensed, but he didn’t pause. “At the same time, Travelers are to be detained before they cause trouble, and sent without harm or delay to the Explorers’ headquarters in the capital.”

“The capital?” Shin’s tone was troubled. “But would we not inform the magistrate? Marquis Yeln would surely have first claim.” The word was not actually Marquis - it sounded more like Wilgurd when Cecilia forced herself to listen beyond the automatic translation.

“Ikshan is a freehold, and my first loyalty is to the Guild,” Orn said. “If you wished to inform the Marquis on your own initiative, I would not stop you. But first, I would say: in the infrequent occasions when a Traveler has walked this world, the powers of the world have burned cities to the ground in their rush to claim and control them. The Explorers at the capital have the right connections and defenses to at least not be immediately overrun. The Marquis would take Cecilia, and once word got out, someone else would take her. And someone else.”

Cecilia had a sudden flash to cartoons she watched as a kid, and one where a tiny fish swallowed a piece of bait, then was swallowed by a bigger fish, who was swallowed by a bigger fish, and so on up the chain. Now she knew how it felt to be the bait in that arrangement.

Yay. She said, “I don’t suppose I have any say in any of this? I don’t want to be ‘claimed’ by anyone. I’m a goddamned person.”

Unruffled, Orn replied, “Depends on how many armies you’re capable of holding off.” At her expression of dismay, he sighed. “Yes, I thought so. So. That is the long-term dilemma. In the short-term, there is this golem-maker. I’ll enquire about him; if he’s this skilled, I’d be surprised if the Guild didn’t have a file, somewhere. But I won’t get that answer back before this deadline runs out.” There was a humorless twitch of his lips. “You’re lucky, you know. If we were somewhere golems were legal, my only legal recourse would be to hand you back to him.”

“But I’m–”

“A person. Yes, you’ve said. But every law regarding golems that I know regards them as objects and property. Never people. And that’s not a door that most of those provinces would ever wish to open.”

Cantor snapped, “Stop scaring her, Guildmaster. You have more integrity than to hand over a thinking, feeling person to someone who will murder her.”

Orn stared at Cantor. He chuckled. “Well, let us consider it a blessing that we are not putting that to the test. Handing her back is the one course of action, under the circumstances, which will have every single interested party reaming my ass. So,” he shrugged, “we prepare to repel a squad of golems.”

Cecilia let out an explosive sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

“Don’t.” Orn turned, if possible, even more stern. He could have taught her middle school principal a trick or two. “This isn’t for you. I don’t know what to do with you, yet. But rest assured, I will figure it out. In the meantime, there is one small piece of good news: Odi and Ren have returned from their last job and will be able to help with the defense.”

Both Cantor and Shin immediately perked up. Cecilia vaguely remembered hearing the names in conversation, and seeing them on the roster slate. “Who are they?”

Orn rose from behind his desk, and the room immediately felt too small. “Why explain? I can introduce you. The full details of Cecilia’s situation do not leave this room,” he added, to the three of them. “Our story will be a simple one: while on a job, you three found a golem artifact, which this criminal wishes to retrieve. We, obviously, will not allow that.”

Cantor’s lips twisted. “I suppose it has the benefit of being mostly true.”

“I’m not an artifact,” Cecilia muttered.

Shin cleared her throat. “You are. A person, yes. But also an artifact. Even outside of your mind, you are the finest golem-work I’ve ever seen.”

“If nothing else, this madman is quite the artisan,” Cantor agreed.

Cecilia snapped, “Can we not?” They turned deeper shades of red. “Let’s meet these two adventurers. I think I can manage to not talk about my, uh, condition.”

Ikshan was not a large town; it only took a child a few minutes to race off down the dirt streets, then come back with two figures trailing along behind. Odi was a lean woman with dark green skin, tightly-curled white hair, and copper eyes. She carried a staff that was banded with an oily green metal, and she and Shin exchanged greetings that carried real pleasure. Her clothing was the fanciest Cecilia had seen here; it clearly wasn’t homemade, or Mare’s durable but unadorned work - the grel-leather armor had been riveted for extra protection, and underneath, the cloth was brightly dyed and even beaded at the wrists and hem.

Ren was a man of small stature, possibly somewhere in his mid thirties, and like Cantor, he wore robes rather than armor. Unlike Cantor, he had a thick tome strapped on his sash to one hip, and what very much looked like…”Is that a gun?” Cecilia asked, pointing at the object on Ren’s other hip.

His eyes lit up. “Ah, you recognize it? You must be well-traveled, Miss Cecilia. It’s generally considered exotic in these parts.”

Cantor said, “Ren’s a Ballistic Mage. It’s an unusual class, although I hear there’s an entire Order of them in the northwest of the continent.”

Ren nodded “The Rune Cannoneers. I fear I'm not honored enough to have joined their ranks, but I was born in a city by their border. When I was a child, a squad of Cannoneers came through on a parade, and I was vastly taken by their skill.” His hand dropped to fondle the gun in its holster. “I started research the very next day, until I was good enough to build Bloom here with my own hands.”

Cecilia had to admit that the pair looked formidable. And when the force the golem-maker commanded was explained to them, they were sober but not openly dismayed. “That ‘Tool’ is going to be the biggest problem,” Odi said. Her voice was light and she spoke slowly, as if she thought about each word. “If it’s a Masterwork, it may even have a special Technique or two.”

“Won’t be a problem if we can neutralize the maker quickly.” Ren’s fingers once again found the butt of Bloom. “I’d say field a force to distract the golems, but reserve our true strength to punch directly for the source of the problem.”

“I may be able to set traps,” Shin offered. “Golems are not smart, and they do not feel pain. But they are as vulnerable to deep pits as any creature.”

Orn’s eyes flicked over the assembled adventurers. “Good. You’re starting to think. I won’t interrupt; the wind of fortune may not bless us such again.” When they all glared at him, he offered only a bland smile in return. “I’ll inform the Mayor; there are some irregulars among the village who can join the defense. In the meantime, go, plan. Odi, report to me in the morning with what you’ve come up with, and I’ll share the resources I can muster on my end.”

He started to turn away, but hesitated to give Cecilia an uncomfortably long study. Just when she was about to demand he ask whatever was on his mind, he turned abruptly and walked away.

“What was that about?” Ren wondered at his back. “Did you do something?”

“Mostly, I just exist,” Cecilia mustered a smile. “Anyway. How about we grab a table at Moss House and work some of this out?”

That was amenable to all, although in the end, Cecilia didn’t have a great deal to contribute to the talk of tactics. It shocked her how quickly her friends - if Shin was still a friend - could switch from being what she considered ‘normal’ people, as far as that applied in this world, to discussing matters of what was, as far as she could tell, a very small but very serious war.

Odi brought out a roll of blank parchment, and with a murmured skill, it stained itself into a crude but serviceable map of the town and the surrounding area. They worked from that, with Shin marking where she thought she could hide traps for golems, while Ren and Castor bickered amiably over defense spells and alchemical incendiaries. Odi spoke little, but when she did, the whole table quieted to hear her. Cecilia spoke even less, and as the planning stretched on into the night, she rose from the table. “Just point me at what to punch,” she said, lightly, “but for now, I’m going to hit the hay.”

With a few quick goodbyes, she made her way back up the narrow, steep stairs to her tiny corner room, and sat on the bed. The window shutters were closed, and the room’s lantern was unlit. She extended one finger, whispered, “Fists of the Forge,” and lit the wick before she accidentally set the furniture on fire. As the warm, orange glow pushed away a few shadows, she murmured, “Everything’s gone to hell, but that’s still pretty cool.”

There was a knock on the door. Cantor's words were muffled as he asked, “Cecilia? May I come in?”

“Yeah. I’m decent.”

He stepped inside, blinking and baffled. “Of course. You’re always decent. Don’t let people’s reaction to golems get you down.”

“That’s not–” Cecilia broke it off with a soft laugh. “Never mind. And thanks. I appreciate you having my back.”

“Of course,” he said, and paused to check the hallway before closing the door. Once it was shut, he added, “Always. Speaking of, how quickly can you pack?”

“Pack?” She straightened. “You mean, to leave? I really just have the one bag. Why?”

“Get it,” he said and moved to peer through the shutter slats. “We can go out this window. You could probably just jump. I’ll need to climb.” Now it was her turn to be baffled, and his exasperation was obvious. “This is the quiet time of night, and the other three are still busy with defense plans. I’ve got several spare class shield potions in my rooms; enough to get us to the nearest city. Orn will have someone watching you by tomorrow.”

“I’m not leaving,” Cecilia said, with a surge of indignation. “This town is at risk because of me. What kind of asshole would I be if I snuck out the back door and left them to deal with my mess?”

“A smart one?” At her expression, he ran both hands through his hair and tugged on it as if he’d like to just pull himself away into the sky with the force of it. “Cecilia. You heard the Guildmaster. He has orders. By tomorrow, he’ll have sent a message to the Explorers’ Headquarters, asking what to do about you. In a week, there will be top-ranked Explorers here to take you away. I won’t be able to protect you from them.”

“I haven’t asked you to,” she pointed out, tart. “And if it’ll take them a week to get here, then that gives us a couple of days after the old man returns to figure out what to do. Cantor - I can’t just leave people here holding the bag. What if someone gets hurt because of me? Or because you’re not there to cast your spells? You’d be okay with Shin getting killed? Or even Mare, one of the other townsfolk - who have been nothing but nice to me?”

He made a frustrated sound. “It’s not that I want that to happen! But you don’t understand what will happen to you. They will twist and mold you into the Traveler they want to see. A figurehead for their ambitions.”

“Who’s they?”

“Everyone.”

Cecilia considered it. She truly did; life in a cage didn’t sound like a lot of fun, and she had things to do. Her family to contact. A murderer to find. A world to get back home to. But in the end, she said, quietly, “Cowards die many times before their deaths; the valiant never taste of death but once.”

Cantor snorted. “A stupid saying. What’s it from?”

“A play.” Cecilia chuckled. “The guy who says it gets stabbed a whole bunch of times by all his friends.”

“And you want to emulate that?” His hands fluttered their irritation in the air. “I was starting to think you were smart.”

“Oooh, there’s your mistake,” she replied, lightly, and was happy to see him smile, even if it was grudging. “Look, Cantor. I appreciate the rescue attempt. I do. But I can’t expect anyone in this world to help me when I need help if I abandon them to trouble I caused - whether I meant to or not. So,” she stretched out a hand to him, “let’s deal with one problem at a time, okay?”

The mage stared at her hand, then reached out. “The illusion doesn’t extend to touch. Your skin is cold and hard.” He squeezed her hand anyway. “Fine. We’ll do it your way. But only so that I can take some petty pleasure in saying I told you so at the appropriate time.”