Onkodis was first through the hatch, marvelling as the smoky rubble of the crash site transitioned into the clear skies and well kept flowerbeds that surrounded the greenhouse they’d stepped out of. Soft grass yielded under Onkodis’ feet, making them worry about the large wake of footprints left across the yard.
Prostasio and Hannah followed through next, the bodyguard trying to make the best of the situation by cracking corny jokes about their missing leg that didn’t quite translate, but left Hannah giggling so hard she almost dropped them nonetheless.
Trunk picked its way over the threshold, seeming to understand the precious cargo it bore. Felicia brought up the rear, shutting the door behind her and catching the visitor’s attentions when the dull metallic report of the hatch transmuted into a gentle clatter of glass when she rattled the handle of the greenhouse door to ensure the link was severed. Satisfied, she tucked the key back into her blouse and hurried to catch up to the group.
“Is that other creature not joining us?” Onkodis asked, motioning to the door. “Or do they have another route?”
“Axel will oversee the transport of your craft from the crash.” Felicia waved them off and started for the manor. “For now, why don’t we head inside and get you settled? I’d like to start reaching out to some of the other agents to assist with your case.”
“Will we fit in there?” Onkodis sized themselves up against the worn Dutch doors that led into the kitchen, and gave the manor a dubious once-over. They leaned down to peer through the door, uttering a discouraged murmur about the height of the ceilings inside.
“Currently? I’m not sure-” Felicia’s attention trailed off, caught by a rustling from within the surrounding garden. The visitors turned, expecting to see Axel arrive with the craft, only to be faced with confusion at the empty yard and slight breeze moving the trees. Felicia looked back to the manor, craning her neck and chuckling to herself, “though something tells me you’ll be just fine.”
Onkodis turned back to the house, their confusion interrupted by the larger than doorway that met them. The entire manor had doubled in size, now sporting vaulted ceilings and roomy hallways that they could pass through without issue.
“How did you do that?” Onkodis asked.
“I didn’t do anything. Blackwolf Manor has a tendency to do what it pleases.” Felicia offered them nothing more than a blithe smile. “Come on, let’s get you settled.”
—||—
Felicia led the group through a large white-panelled kitchen and past a cozy hardwood dining room to the front of the house, offering them respite in a comfortable sitting room at the front of the manor.
Onkodis sized up a large wingback chair next to a slate and iron hearth nestled among a packed wall of books and knickknacks, settling into the green velvet as the fire came to life. They hesitated to let the creaking legs take their full weight, their pause waved off by Hannah as she helped Prostasio with the chintz couch near the doors.
The visitors took in the house while Hannah adjusted the airy floral curtains in the front window, filtering the afternoon sun. Cream and gold brocade wallpaper atop dark wainscoting ran through the room, interrupted only by a set of French doors that led to a sizable library. Mismatched antique furniture anchored a navy and cream Persian rug. Trunk ambled into the room and settled down, fitting itself into familiar indentations in the carpet.
“If you need anything at all-”
“Who are these soldiers?” Maks barked, interrupting Hannah mid-sentence as he descended the stairs, dishevelled and exhausted.
Hannah offered him a broad smile. “These are Onkodis and Prostasio! We-”
“I wasn’t aware you’d started running a barracks.”
“Maks, they need our help.” Felicia placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Does that ‘help’ include letting them track-” Maksymilian gave Felicia an irked smile and motioned to the dark, viscous trail that terminated in a dripping pool at Prostasio’s feet. “Whatever that is all over the manor?”
Felicia met his gaze. “The floors will survive.”
She held up a firm hand at Maks’ sharp inhale to continue his tirade, ushering him towards the large sunroom on the other side of the stairs. “Maksymilian, I apologize for not being able to take you along earlier. However — there are greater forces at work here now and I will not extend anything less than our best hospitality to our guests. For all we know, they are nothing more than refugees seeking asylum. Until I am shown otherwise, I expect everything in this manor to continue as it has since I found you shivering on the porch. Blackwolf has certainly accepted them and I would appreciate it if you could try to do the same.”
“If they need asylum, why not take them to the office?” Maksymilian motioned towards a closet door tucked under the stairs. “You told me that was the safest place on the planet.”
Felicia cast a glance at the visitors and looked back to meet Maksymilian’s gaze. “All things in due time. For now, go back to your studies. I’ll have Hannah bring something up for you.”
“Shouldn’t I help? Or at least apologize and introduce myself?”
“Tomorrow.” Felicia patted his shoulder. “There are more guests coming tonight and I’d rather you were out of the way.”
Maksymilian froze, trying to look for a reason in Felicia’s expression. Finding nothing, he shot a glare towards the group in the sitting room and stormed back upstairs two at a time, shutting his door with a loud report.
Felicia scrunched her face up in a pained expression and strode into the kitchen, skirts catching around her legs in her wake.
“It's not always like this, I promise.” Hannah sunk down next to Prostasio.
“Still beats getting shot out of the exosphere.” Onkodis offered.
“Speaking of which, there doesn’t seem to be a lot of metalwork on this planet.” Prostasio took in the room, craning their neck to peer at the sliver of library visible through the curtains behind the door. “Or is it just this location?”
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
“Blackwolf manor is largely wooden, I’ll give you that.” Felicia returned to the sitting room with a piece of parchment in her hands, deftly binding it with a thin gold cord. “But the organization’s forgemaster is more than capable of helping you.”
She tossed the parchment into the heart of the fire, watching it explode into green and blue ashes. “Hopefully, she’ll make a house call.”
Prostasio leaned back into the couch to prop the stump of their wounded leg on their good knee, worrying at some of the exposed workings. “If all else fails, I’m good enough at field repairs. Given some time and the remains of our ship, I can repair my leg and get Astri in some semblance of working order.”
“I’m sure that Calaes will relish the challenge.” Felicia watched the fire dance. “She makes all of our weapons and armour, though I have not seen anything more complicated than a crossbow come out of the forge.”
Trunk rustled, unlatching itself and rocking back to pop open the lid, revealing Astri’s head nestled on top of the other salvaged parts.
“I warned them not to let us go unescorted.” Prostasio reached out to pick them up. “This is what we get for wanting peace, I suppose.”
“What did happen?” Hannah shifted her weight to lean in next to Prostasio, noticing the panicky look the visitors exchanged. “If you don’t mind me asking.”
“I don’t know if we-” Prostasio’s balking was cut shot as the door under the stairs flung open. A burst of sulfurous smoke settled along the floor, kicked up by the source of the interruption.
“Living metal, Felicia — really? I don’t have time for riddles. Or did Loki get a hold of your stationery again?” A broad shouldered woman in a heavy leather apron emerged from the small closet, dragging with her the scent of fresh cut wood and sharpened steel.
“I have never had a reason to deceive you.” Felicia moved to greet Calaes. “Thank you for coming on-”
The change in Calaes’ demeanour had not registered with her as Felicia’s outstretched hand was wholly ignored and Calaes breezed past her into the room.
“-such short notice. I hope we aren’t interrupting you.”
Calaes knelt before Prostasio, hesitating as she reached out to examine the severed connections of their leg. Onkodis’ optics flickered, glancing between the newcomer and their companion, meeting Prostasio’s gaze with shared uncertainty.
“Calaes?” Felicia offered the visitors a sympathetic frown as she tried to get the goddess’ attention.
Deep in her own little world, Calaes continued to ignore Felicia’s attempts at conversation. “Incredible-”
“Calaes.”
With the hard snap of her name, Calaes finally looked up wearing the embarrassed beginnings of a smile. Hannah offered up her place on the couch, vacating Prostasio’s side and letting her settle in and murmuring apologies to the room. “Please forgive my impudence — when Felicia’s letter arrived, I thought she was speaking of the toys and statues that the artificers like to play with, not-”
“Sentient mechanical automatons from space?” Prostasio chuckled. “Because I can guarantee there are only more beings like us on our world. Each generation builds the next.”
“Marvellous.” Calaes offered them a warm smile. “I have not encountered a living expression of my core element in eons.”
Prostasio picked up their jewel and examined it for a moment. “Sorry, I didn’t understand you there. Eons?”
“Oh yes. I am the spiritual embodiment of metal and wood. Those elements exist as I do.” Calaes picked up a letter opener from a nearby side table, manipulating it with no more force than pulling warm taffy. “I was contracted by the entities behind Supernatural Control to build armour and weapons for their agents. Between friends, I do enjoy getting out of the Underworld every now and then.”
“Armour — so you’d be able to help us rebuild our commander?” Onkodis perked up, catching on to the opportunity that sat with them.
“That’s the hope.” Calaes returned the letter opener to the side table. “Earth’s armament technology is still quite rudimentary, all things considered. I don’t get much time to play with much outside clockwork and simple automata either. I do, however, love a challenge. I should be able to craft much of what you need, given I’m provided with the schematics and metallurgy recipes.”
Prostasio levelled a dim gaze at Onkodis, tempering their excitement. They retrieved their leg from within Trunk and offered it to Calaes. “Would you be able to help me with this for now? I’d appreciate being able to use it for more than just a door stop.”
“You’re right to challenge me.” Calaes stifled a laugh. “I should at least make sure that-”
She went quiet again, scrutinizing the damaged areas and connections with a trance-like focus for a few moments. A perplexed look crossed her face and a moment later, Calaes quietly slipped her hand under Prostasio’s thigh. She touched the severed connections together, letting the wires and conduits seek out their other halves to connect on their own. Calaes smoothed her thumb around the shear line, returning the metal to a homogeneous state. Prostasio’s optics brightened, realizing that their leg was self-repairing in the goddess’ hands.
“Your physiology is closer than I thought it would be. I can think of a good few other gods that would love to have you in their collections.” Calaes came out of her focused state, offering Prostasio a smile as she wiped the fluid off with her tunic hem. At their spooked expression, she offered, “of course, I would never let you be made into a simple curio.”
Prostasio finally tested out the limb, pleased as it bore their weight and reacted the way it was supposed to. It would have taken a team of medics with endless patience days to execute repairs as seamless. “You should come back to Kynaetir with us when this is all over. Our people would love to meet you.”
Calaes and Felicia exchanged an unseen ‘no, that’s how you get a new religion’ glance.
“Getting home yourselves should be your first concern.” Calaes gave Prostasio’s repaired knee a pat as she sat back. “Now — let’s see what I can do for your commander.”
“Astri’s been quiet since you came back online.” Onkodis shifted the debris inside Trunk to free Astri’s head. “Should we be concerned?”
“No. This is part of their normal power conservation sub-routine.” Prostasio waved them off. “Astri’s resilient.” Onkodis’ glower of disbelief prompted the addition of, “They’ll need repairs that are a little more intensive than sticking a leg back on, I mean. If I’d known I should have brought a backup shell I would have, but the mission parameters didn’t say anything about being flung across space.”
Onkodis scoffed and passed Astri’s head to Calaes, not noticing that Prostasio had ducked down to free a loose cable. A spark jumped from Astri to Calaes when the four of them connected, passing massive amounts of information between Calaes and Astri in a moment.
Calaes sucked in a sharp breath and pushed Astri into Prostasio’s hands, sending the room into mild chaos as she jumped from the couch, jittery and wild-eyed, trying to head for the closet door.
“What just happened?” Prostasio looked to Felicia and Hannah for guidance, their wandering hands checking Astri for damage once more.
Calaes turned back to meet Prostasio’s concerned gaze. “I will be right back.”
Felicia followed, intercepting her in the hallway. “Are you all right? What was that?”
“Information.” Calaes clung to Felicia’s arm, the goddess’ intense gaze spooking her. “I have learnt everything I will ever need to know about these visitors and how to help them. So I am going to do that — I will be right back.”
Calaes released Felicia’s arm and retreated through the closet door, her echoing footsteps breaking into a run that belied the true size of the space beyond the door.
Felicia paused for a moment as she shut the door, banishing the last traces of sulfurous air. She turned to the room with a calm, charming smile. “It looks like we have some time to kill. Can I get you anything?”