Its voice was hollow, like it was speaking down a chimney, and wholly, inexpressiblysad.
“I exist to serve.”
“I fuckingknewit!” cried Fern.
22
“What are you?” asked Viv, although he was clearly no wight, so small and weaponless. Still, she didn’t lower her blade an inch.
He stared back at her with the unreadable blue flames in his sockets. “I am the Lady’s homunculus.” He invested the word with something like reverence. Or maybe fear?
“The Lady? You mean… Varine?”
The creature dropped abruptly to one knee and snapped the bony knuckles of one hand to his forehead. “The Lady,” he hissed in an eerie, echoing whisper.
“Guess that answers that,” muttered Gallina. Then, louder, “You gonna jump us or somethin’?”
The homunculus unfolded. “I… exist to serve,” he repeated hesitantly.
“Servewho?” Gallina waggled her dagger meaningfully in his direction, although Viv couldn’t imagine it would be much use against a bunch of bones with no blood to draw. Her saber at least might smash him to pieces if he decided to turn threatening. Somehow, though, she didn’t think he was going to.
He extended a hand toward Viv. “The one who wakes me,” he replied.
Fern stepped boldly toward the homunculus, and Viv held up a hand to try to stop her. “Hang on! Wait until—”
The rattkin waved her off. “He’s not going to hurt anyone, can’t you tell?” Then to the skeletal creature, “You aren’t, are you? Going to hurt us?”
He shook his head and clasped his bony fingers before him. He really didn’t seem threatening. The sepulchral voice and genteel tone sounded incredibly ancient, but something about his behavior was almost… innocent.
“What do we call you?” asked Fern, studying him with keen interest.
“The Lady calls me only Satchel.”
“She named you after the gods-damnedbag?” cried Gallina, slapping her dagger into a loop on her bandolier. Her righteous indignation signaled a shift in the atmosphere.
Viv sheathed her blade as well and looked the poor creature over. “You serve me then? Butalsothe Lady?”
Satchel’s fingers vibrated together—in nervousness? “I shall endeavor to do both, m’lady, to the very limits of my ability.”
“You have to do what I say?” asked Viv.
Fern’s expression clouded at that, and she glanced sharply at Viv.
“Yes. And also… no,” said Satchel. His nervousness increased.
“What do you mean by that?” Fern asked.
Satchel pointed at the bottle of dust which Viv still held in her off hand. “Without the dust, I do not exist. To defy the one who wakes me is to cease to be. It is the truth that binds me, and thus binds my will.”
“So, youcandisobey, but if you do, you won’t wake again?” Viv examined the bottle’s contents.
The homunculus nodded.
“That’s awful,” said Fern, and the lack of colorful language spoke to the depth of her revulsion.
“Why are you here? Why aren’t you with Varine?” pressed Viv.
“I was taken.” Satchel acquired a hunted look. “Balthus stole me away from the Lady, and I was not all he stole. She will be most angry when she finds him.”
