The lobby was grand, with floating balls of golden magelight that provided illumination as they drifted lazily through the air. The black marble floors were covered in a layer of dust. The place was completely empty, and the desk was unmanned. Their footsteps echoed off the high, vaulted ceiling.

“There’s no one here,” Linton said without looking back, probably reading her mind. “Just you, me, and Yoren. I like my privacy.”

“I see. Who’s Yoren, anyway?” Shay asked.

“You’ll meet her soon.”

They stepped into a large elevator, and Linton asked the Yoren person to send them to Floor 102. The ornate, flower-wrought doors closed, and Shay settled in for a long ride.

“So… how does this work, exactly?” Shay asked. “If I’m going to be your servant or whatever. It’s not a weird prank or anything, is it?”

“It would be a pretty funny prank.” Linton inspected his nails like it was a far more important priority than their conversation. “But no. You’ll just be doing whatever I tell you to.”

“Will you pay me? Or is it just for my debt?”

“I won’t let you starve, don’t worry. That would just be depressing to watch.”

“I’m glad to know my death would affect you so deeply.”

Linton shot her a lop-sided grin. “You’ve got a bit of a mouth on you, kid.”

I just don’t care that much what happens to me anymore.

“No need to be so pessimistic. How about a ‘Thank you for getting me out of terrible debt, Master Granhorn’ instead?”

“I’m still in debt, though, aren’t I? Isn’t that why I’m here?”

“Now you’re just mincing words. Stop taking everything so seriously.”

“You’re right. I have so much to be happy about, after all.”

The longer she spent talking to Thousand-Eyes, the more he wore down her initial caution with his infuriatingly smug attitude.

The elevator came to a stop, and the doors opened into a large open penthouse apartment. It was warmly lit with wall-mounted lamps and magelights fluttering on stubby little wings. The rich dark wood floor was covered in all sorts of thick rugs, and the walls were hung with intricate tapestries of ancient battles and mythological scenes. Old-timey bard music with soft instrumentals played on an equally old-timey music box near an unlit fireplace on the left, with two armchairs also arranged around the hearth. There was an open kitchen on the right side, along with several doors leading to other rooms.

A woman greeted them as they came in. She inclined her head in a half-bow, hands folded in front of her. She was strikingly beautiful, with proud, symmetrical features, pale, almost snow-white skin, and black hair in a loose braid. There was a mature, motherly quality to her. She was dressed in a simple blouse and a long skirt, but she wore the outfit so elegantly that she would not have looked out of place with a crown on her head.

“Welcome home, master,” the woman said with a demure smile.

Ugh. He better not make me call him that…

“Don’t worry, she’s just a little overbearing that way,” Linton explained, patting Shay on the shoulder. “This is Yoren. She's artificial, so treat her however you like.” To illustrate, he walked up to the woman and said: “You look like shit today.”

“Kill yourself, master,” Yoren replied, the smile giving way to a deadpan stare.

“See, she loves it!” Linton said with a wink back at Shay.

What is even happening to my life?

“Well, first of all, you should go for a shower and get changed into something less disgusting,” Linton continued, clapping his hands together. “I thought it was those guys back there that smelled, but you’re not much better, as it turns out. After that you can make yourself some food. I feel like I can hear your bones clacking together.

“And after that, I’ll be putting you to work. Since you’re so small and weak, I guess I’ll have to work you twice as hard to get anything done.”

“He’s joking,” Yoren said with a kind smile.

“He’s not joking,” Linton insisted.

“That was a joke, too. Come with me, dear, and I’ll show you where your room is.”

“My… room?”

Yoren nodded. “Yes, you will be staying here from now on. Linton didn’t tell you?”

“No. He hasn’t really told me much.”

Yoren threw her master a hard look. “Of course he hasn’t.”

“Why do it myself when I can delegate?” Linton said with a self-satisfied sigh. He shrugged out of his coat and threw it over one of the armchairs, then slumped down in the other.

Yoren brought Shay through the first door on the right, which led into a spacious bedroom. It had clearly been disused for some time, cold and dusty, but the bed was wide and the covers looked nice and thick, with a whole heap of pillows. There was also a desk with a high-end padded chair, a recliner, and a thick faux-fur rug draped across the floor. A large window set into the far wall overlooked the sparkling cityscape as an early winter darkness had already fallen over Northmark.

“What about my apartment?” Shay asked. Walking over to the window, she fidgeted nervously with the hem of her jacket sleeve. The corpse of Gisa, Goddess of War, was visible as a faint silhouette in the distance, throngs of buildings crowded in around her. Her long red hair had been pinned to her ashen skin with a myriad of heavy iron clamps to keep it from obstructing the flow of the city.

“We will see to fetching your things in the morning,” Yoren replied, coming up behind her. “I’ll administrate all necessary paperwork from there, once you delegate those privileges to me as your Assistant.”

“I guess that’s fine.” It wasn’t like she could keep staying in the apartment she was about to get kicked out of, but she still didn’t like the way they were speaking to her like everything was a foregone conclusion. “You’re not expecting me to pay rent or anything?”

“Of course not. Shay, what has that man been telling you?”

“That I’m his new servant or something.”

“Ah. I believe that was an attempt at discretion.”

“What does that mean?”

“We’re expecting some… interference. Don’t worry. I expect Linton will let you know what’s going on once that’s been resolved.”

“So I’m not a servant?”

“For the time being, let’s leave it at that. We’ll tell you everything in time.”

Shay turned to look at Yoren. “Like who my father is?”

Yoren’s eyes filled with pain at that. “Yes, sweetheart. In due time, I hope. But it’s not up to me.”

Yoren led her to the bathroom, which was fully decked out with both a bathtub and a separate walk-in shower. Combined with the bedroom, this space that was now apparently hers was almost as large as the entire apartment she had shared with her mother before.

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Shay was going to take a quick shower, but Yoren insisted that she draw herself a bath and take her time, and pointed her to a small cabinet with soaps and oils and instructed her on how to get the temperature to her liking. She was then told that she could get a change of clothes from the large wardrobe in the bedroom when she was done.

It took Shay a while before she realized that, while Yoren accompanied her everywhere and was always quick with instruction, she never did anything for herself.

“Linton… Mr. Granhorn, said that you’re artificial,” Shay thought out loud, sitting on a stool while she waited for the tub to fill. The oils she’d added were already putting a mild, pleasant fragrance in the air. “But do you not have a body?”

“I do not,” Yoren said with a small smile. She dipped her fingers in the water, which did not disturb its surface. “What you’re seeing is just a magical projection. I exist inside the house itself as well as Linton’s Knowlink.”

“Why don’t you have a construct body, at least? I don’t really know how it works, but wouldn’t that work?”

“I’m still a work in progress, dear.” Yoren reached up to caress Shay’s cheek, and she really did feel the touch of a warm hand. “But being this way has its advantages, too.”

“If you’re not real, how come I felt you just then?”

“Linton is a good maker. My body is only an illusion, but I can touch all senses of living things.”

“He… created you, then?”

“Sort of. I was broken when I met him, but he put me together again.” There was a deep fondness in her voice, and she caressed her lower stomach while she spoke.

“You like him.”

Yoren gave a little laugh. “Don’t sound so surprised. I know he can be a little abrasive, but he’s a better man than you might think.”

A little abrasive?

“Hey, I heard that, you little shit!” Linton yelled from the other room. “You better start being nice to me, or I’m throwing you back out on the street!”

“He’s not doing that,” Yoren mouthed with a wink.

Yoren left Shay alone for her bath, vanishing into thin air. She still had a creeping feeling that she was being watched, given that Linton picked up on everything she was thinking, and especially after what Yoren had said about existing ‘inside’ the house, implying that its entirety was her domain. But at least she was nicer than her master, so Shay was able to put it to the back of her mind for the time being.

The bath was too hot, at first, but once she got used to it she could feel the water work the cold knots out of her muscles as the oil seeped into her skin. She sank down to her chin and closed her eyes, allowing herself a bit of respite.

Shay stayed in the bath a long while, scrubbing away the accumulated filth caused by her own neglect. Once the water got foggy with grime, she let it drain and poured a new bath. She stayed until that one went cold. No one came to bother her, even though she took a lot longer than she should have.

Once she reluctantly dragged herself out of the bath, clean and warm, she realized how gross her pile of old clothes looked. Looking through the wardrobe, she found a fresh set, just a t-shirt and a pair of tight-fitting gym sweats with some thick, warm socks. Simple but comfortable. They felt new, too. There were plenty of other clothes in there. More than she had back at the apartment. Were they all supposed to be hers? Had someone stayed in this room before her, or had they gone through the trouble of buying it all just for her?

Her hunger soon reminded Shay of its existence with a painful twist of her empty gut. She wandered out into the main living area and found Linton still in his armchair. He took his attention off an open book in his lap to glance up at her.

“Better,” he said. “I daresay if we can fix your malnourishment and that murderous glare, you might not even look like a feral street urchin anymore. Speaking of which, fetch yourself some food from the kitchen. Make me some of whatever you’re having, too.”

He didn’t have to ask her twice.

The kitchen had a well-stocked pantry, fridge, and freezer with plenty of ingredients for cooking. Shay had neither the know-how or energy for anything advanced, though, so she settled for making herself a sandwich with ham, lettuce, mayo, and tomato. She’d never been much of a veggies person, but after being stripped down to the bare essentials, a bit of greenery looked divine. She reluctantly made one for Linton, too, and she ate in silence in the other armchair while he performed a lengthy and scathing takedown of her sandwich-making-technique through his chewing.

“Didn’t even get me a drink!” he complained. “Honestly, what kind of servant did I hire?” He sighed dramatically and shook his head while going through the layers of the last half of his sandwich, going through a variety of disgusted expressions.

“Yoren says I’m not your servant,” Shay pointed out, already done with hers but still hungry, licking a stray glob of mayonnaise from her finger.

“Yoren says a lot of things. Between you and me, she’s a bit of a bimbo.”

“What was that, master?” Yoren asked, appearing by his side with a sweet smile, hands primly folded before her. “Please repeat that, my hearing must be going.”

“I said you’re a bimbo. And this sandwich sucks.”

“I see.” A sudden rumbling went through the floor, growing in intensity, like a small earthquake. “I regret to inform you that the heating system just broke for the top fifty floors, there’s a water leak on Floor 32, I am expecting a power outage in approximately one minute, the Eye is experiencing a random startup event, and the vigor—”

“I got it, I got it,” Linton said, shaking his sandwich at her. “I’m sorry, okay?”

“You’re sorry, and?”

“You’re not a bimbo.”

“And?”

“You’re a very beautiful steelmind. Please un-fuck my tower.”

“Gladly, master.” She disappeared again, and the rumbling promptly stopped.

“Women,” Linton mouthed, and handed Shay the rest of his sandwich. “You can have this. I don’t know what you did to it, but it’s not edible. It’s all the goo you added, I think.”

Shay would have protested against eating something that had touched a strange man’s lips, but she was hungry enough that she didn’t care, and quickly wolfed it down.

She wasn’t allowed to sit around for long before Linton started bossing her around again. It was all petty housework, like mopping the floor, putting on his laundry, cleaning out the dishwasher, making him tea, and lighting the fireplace. Lastly, he wanted her to stuff his pipe for him, pointing to a small wooden case on an end table by the armchair. Next to the case sat a long, slender pipe on a golden metal stand.

Opening the case, Shay found a pouch filled with dried leaves, a small mortar and pestle of stone, a lighter, and a round metal tool for tamping. She crushed the leaves into a rough, bitter-smelling powder and filled the bowl of the pipe with it, then packed it down. She handed him the pipe and the lighter, and he lit it up while puffing thoughtfully at the bit.

“You packed it too tight,” he grumbled. “Are you good at anything?”

“Not really,” Shay answered honestly. “Sorry if I’m some kind of disappointment to you.”

Linton shrugged, his eery glowing gaze cutting straight through her. “Whatever. Run along now—probably best for you to get some sleep. I have a lot I want you to do tomorrow.”

Shay stood up from her seat. “All right then. Mr. Granhorn, I…” She hesitated, biting her lip. “You’re an asshole, you know.”

“Hey!” Linton pointed an accusing finger at her. “I’m your employer! You’re only allowed to say nice things to me!”

“You are an asshole, though. But also… thank you.”

Then she left before he could make some other snide comment and ruin it.

Shay replaced the dusty covers in her bedroom with fresh ones she found in a cupboard. Yoren appeared, recommending that she light the scented candles on the nightstand, as the fragrance was supposed to help her sleep. She did as she was asked. They smelled like soft vanilla and lavender.

Once she got under the covers, Yoren turned off the lights with a wave of her hand, then lingered by her bedside. Not quite looking at her, but not quite looking away, either.

“Is there anything else?” Shay asked, unsure what the artificial woman wanted from her.

Yoren gave a hesitant smile. “I just wanted to ask you, Shay… Would you like me to stay with you tonight? You’ve been through a lot, and you must be feeling lonely. I know I’m only a stranger to you, but…” She was silent for several long moments. “Still, I hope I can be someone for you to put your faith in. Eventually.”

Yoren was nothing like the Knowlink Assistant or any constructs Shay had interacted with. She was a real person, or at least she imitated one well enough that it was impossible to tell the difference.

“Are you really a steelmind?” Shay asked. “Like, a real one? That’s what Linton called you before.”

Yoren nodded. “I am.”

“I thought no one could make those. Not since Couldess and Drakemyth. But Linton killed them both, didn’t he?”

“That’s right.”

“So you’re pretty special, then?”

Yoren laughed a warm, melodic laugh. “Thank you for saying that. I hope I am.”

“Sure. But, if you don’t mind… I’d like to sleep on my own.”

“Of course.” Yoren stood back with a gracious bow. “Good night, Shay. You’re safe now. Everything will be okay.”

Then the steelmind vanished.

Shay lay awake for a long while. She stared up at the slanted ceiling, which was touched by the soft orange glow of the candles.

What the fuck happened today?

There was no way for her to process it all. It was all too much. Too surreal. A large part of her was wary. Suspicious. Linton had said a lot of unnerving things to her. But then, Yoren had said a lot of good things.

And an even larger part of Shay was so, so ready for the nightmare to be over.

Please. Please let it be over. Gods, anyone, I’m begging you.

Please let my suffering be over.

For the first time in a very long time, Shay wept. She used her pillow to muffle her cries, sobbing into it until it was wet with her tears. Warm, full, and clean, she was just too tired to keep her guard up anymore.

Too tired to worry about sharks.

She fell asleep.