The path down to the Hollows was rocky and treacherous. Bonnie was right at home; Concordia, meanwhile, kept having to catch Artemisia before she walked off a cliff, and Neith had straight-up given up on walking and turned into a bat instead.

This was a bad idea, Concordia signed.

Artemisia sighed. “I know.”

After about an hour they stopped at the bottom of the path, just outside the gate protecting the Hollows from whatever treacheries lived in the rest of Flint. Two knights from the House of Blackthorn - their equivalent of the House of Penrose - stood guard with lances made of pure obsidian just outside the gate. They let Mel through easily, but immediately crossed their lances the second they saw the rest of them.

“State your business, travelers,” one of the knights said, voice booming but tone flat.

“Easy,” Mel called. “They’re with me.”

The knights eyed them suspiciously, then raised their lances. The portcullis rose, and the group passed through unharmed.

Now that they were actually inside the city, it became obvious that it was not, in fact, like Flax. While the architecture and geography were superficially similar, the differences were far more obvious up close - tailors were selling clothes made from spider silk instead of wool, eaves were lined with spikes to keep away bats, and instead of sunlight, the entire region was filled with the milky blue light of the crystals hanging from the ceiling. It was so different but so uncannily similar that it gave Artemisia a near-permanent sense of deja vu.

Bonnie, who’d run ahead to join Mel almost as soon as they passed through the portcullis, made a manic little giggle in the midst of some tall tale she was spinning. Mel let out a booming laugh, loud enough that Artemisia was surprised the eaves didn’t rattle.

They kept going through the twisted streets, Mel cheerfully guiding them along. Finally they came to a stop in what in Flax would’ve been the Clockwork District, and in Flint…was still the Clockwork District.

See, the thing about the Clockwork District is that the Tinkers, its primary inhabitants, were possibly the only faction of Flax besides the bandits that the residents of Flint didn’t loathe. If anything the Flinters adored them, possibly due to the strange but beautiful devices that the Tinkers could make with such worthless matter and the fact that their devil-may-care mindset fit better in Flint. Tinkers, meanwhile, were something akin to mad scientists and preferred the dark and gloomy streets of Flint, where resources were abundant and they were free to create monstrosities to their hearts’ content.

This at least somewhat relieved Artemisia, largely due to Tinkers being more than happy to give away information, which they saw as a priceless resource - so priceless, in fact, that they’d share it with anyone who was willing to listen.

Mel knocked on a door. It cracked open, a single eye covered in a thick set of spectacles peering out.

“Who goes there?” a young woman demanded.

“It’s your conscience. We don’t talk much these days,” Mel said cheerfully.

The woman’s eye widened, and she slammed the door shut. A long string of clicking sounds emanated from behind it before the door was flung open once more.

“Mel!” the woman cried, throwing herself into Mel’s arms. Mel cackled and hugged her back, the woman barely seeming to notice their bone-crushing grip. After a moment they let go, and the woman stepped back, her face lit up in a beaming smile, allowing Artemisia to finally get a good look at her.

The woman had copper-colored hair and skin so pale it was almost translucent, making her light freckles stand out even more. Her right eye was a luminous green color, while her left had been replaced with a deep blue glass lens and a lump of ticking gears and twitching wires.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Mel asked.

The woman grinned. “I know. Find any new caves recently?”

“Nah, but I found a bunch of travelers,” Mel jutted their thumb over their shoulder at Artemisia and company.

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The woman giggled and clapped her hands together. “Oh, goody! I always like hearing news of the surface. Come in, come in!”

She stepped back, allowing them entrance to her house. Artemisia, not wanting to be rude, reluctantly entered, the others on her tail. Concordia banged her head against the door frame, rubbed the slowly-forming goose egg on her forehead, and ducked under it.

The house was lit by a complex network of glass passages hanging from the ceiling, varyingly filled with either fireflies or some suspiciously-colored glowing liquid. Clockwork devices in all shapes and sizes ticked away from the walls and corners. There were suspicious burns and stains on the wallpaper and floors and even the ceiling in the form of a gigantic, elephant-shaped patch.

The woman led them to her living room, where the furniture smelled vaguely of wood smoke and was oddly soft to the touch. She plopped down on a cozy-looking armchair while the rest of them took the couch.

“I’m Ginger,” the woman said cheerfully. “I see you’ve met my soulmate Mel.”

“Platonic soulmate.”

“Yes, I don’t do that squishy romance stuff,” Ginger said with a wave of her hand. “Not when I could be making all this!”

She spread her arms, gesturing to her surroundings.

“And here I was starting to forget that Tinkers are a little insane,” Neith whispered to Artemisia.

Mel coughed. “Ginger, they’re here for information.”

Ginger’s brow furrowed. “Ah, yes, hmm. Well. Mel, please go put the kettle on, if you will; as for the rest of you, may I propose a little game?”

That sounded like a very bad idea to Artemisia, but Concordia rested a hand on her shoulder.

Tinkers are honest, she signed. At least you can trust her game to be fair.

Artemisia sighed. “Very well. What is this game?”

Ginger smiled. “I’ll tell you what I know if you tell me what you know!”

Well, that didn’t sound too awful. Artemisia shifted into a more comfortable position. “Alright. I’ll start-”

“No, no,” Ginger said, holding up her hand. “I proposed the game, it’s only fair I start.”

Artemisia sat back. Her hand found Neith’s, and their fingers twined together.

Ginger cleared her throat, then said, “so. How are things on the surface?”

“Um…” Artemisia glanced at Neith, who shrugged as if to say, why are you asking me? I only like going out at night!

“They’re…fine?”

“No, no,” Ginger said. “Specifics. Give me the juicy details!”

“I don’t even know what you want me to tell you!” Artemisia objected.

T_he pirates are in a spat with the Shinobi clan,_ Concordia signed.

Ginger blinked and stared at Artemisia, who translated. She seemed delighted by what was said, so Concordia continued.

A group of Knights of Penrose started rounding up Waste-Walkers and incorporating them into the city. The Mystics and Bandits seek to form an alliance. The Iron District is building a set of fans to blow their pollution into the Floral District. One of the lava channels exploded, causing a blackout in the Tinkers’ district. That’s all I know.

Ginger was smiling broadly, resting her chin on her hand. “I wasn’t expecting so much to have happened while I was gone! Oh, this reminds me, I need to finish my high-pressure steam engine-”

Ginger shot to her feet and was about to vanish into the depths of her house. Unfortunately she bumped into Mel, the collision sending the tea tray Mel was carrying flying.

“Sorry, sorry, terribly sorry-!” Ginger spluttered.

Mel sighed, wiping tea off their face with their sleeve. “It’s fine.” They grinned. “I’ve faced worse in the Abyss of Souls. Remind me to tell you that story once our…guests are gone.”

Ginger beamed. “I can’t wait!”

Mel sat down in Ginger’s seat. Ginger wriggled her way into their lap and clapped her hands together. “Where were we? Oh, yes, the game! Your turn.”

“We’re looking for someone who might’ve had this in his possession,” Artemisia said, removing her amulet and holding it out. Ginger squinted at it, her eyes slowly starting to widen.

“Oh, my,” she breathed. “That’s lovely.”

She reached for the amulet. Artemisia reluctantly let her grab it, and she turned it over in her hands. Ginger nibbled on it before giving Artemisia a satisfied look.

“I believe Lukas had this at one point, but he was rather reluctant to state where it went,” Ginger said, tossing it back to Artemisia.

“I think they want to know where he got it, sweetie.”

Ginger blinked. “Oh. Why didn’t you say so?! He got it from Effie, who got it from Luciano, who got it from Taurus, who got it from his husband, who is a retired merchant.”

“They live on the Lake of Fire, if you wanna ask ‘em where they got it,” Mel added. “I can take you…for a price, of course.”

Artemisia sighed in relief.

“That’d be lovely,” Neith said, taking Artemisia’s hand. She smiled and kissed her on the cheek, then moved to stand.

“Wait!” Ginger cried, and Neith froze. “We’re not done with the game yet!”

Bonnie groaned and flopped against the couch bonelessly.

“I have more questions,” Ginger continued. She cleared her throat. “Firstly, there wouldn’t happen to be a street urchin named Ivory selling crystals, would there?”

Artemisia blinked. “I don’t know. I don’t talk to the Ragamuffins much.”

There is, Concordia confirmed. They operate out of the Clockwork District.

Ginger let out a relieved sigh. “Oh, thank the stars they’re alright. Your turn.”

“Is there anything else we should know?” Neith asked.

“Yeh,” Mel said. “Be careful. I can’t watch all your sorry rears in these caves; dangerous enough looking out for my own, let alone a bunch of tourists.”

“Mel!” Ginger chided. “Be nice!”

“Make me!”

Ginger shook her head. “I’m terribly sorry, they’ve got a bit of a bitter streak. Anyways, it was lovely to meet you all; I’d best get back to work. My automatic egg-boiler isn’t going to build itself!”

She ran off, cackling like a maniac. Mel shook their head, smiling softly.

“Alright, best get movin’.”