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Engines of Obsession: Chapter 32
🕑 Added 2025-09-16 16:32:33 +0000 UTCChapter 32: Ancient Lore
His arm still stung, but after a thorough rinse and bandaging, Turner could use it again. The acid ate through some of his flesh, but it was just a few drops. That wasn't enough to get through all the muscle, just enough to cause incredible pain.
The flying construct was a complete loss. Turner didn't want to take a closer look anyway... Penelope, despite her sadism, was surprisingly helpful in pointing out that someone nearby was controlling it, and likely needed a clear line of sight. Anne's constructs were somewhat autonomous, but these didn't appear to have any mind of their own.
Anne herself had regained some color, but she'd allowed Nikandros to lend her a shoulder to lean on. She was breathing regularly, yet looked weak and shaken. The woman didn't show any fear or even annoyance at this, just pragmatism. She was walking slower, and needed support, so she took it.
"What's wrong with her?" Turner asked in a low voice while he reloaded his revolver. It felt wrong to ask Penelope that. Knowing this strange small creature had murdered his parents made his stomach ill and his heart pound, and it took all his discipline not to lash out at her even now.
The copper-plated girl shook her head in a surprisingly human expression. "I don't know," she admitted... and though tinny and artificial, her voice came out soft enough to be a whisper. "I've never seen her in pain like that. Even I don't know what keeps her going, but I think if that had put the entire payload in her, she might have actually died."
Then Penelope shrugged, "Now she will likely find a way to protect against it. The Lady does not want to live forever, but she still has work to do."
Turner frowned at that phrasing, but the coppery girl pulled her hood up again and stepped out of the alley. He took that to mean the conversation was over with, and didn't pursue the topic.
"Miss Blakely," Nora broke into the silence. "You used two terms. One of them was the old tongue, I know that one, but the other was an older derivation of Latin you said? Is that why your spells are so powerful."
Despite the weakness of her limbs, Anne had no trouble speaking. She shook her head. "No, not at all. Except inasmuch as it allows me to research a broader range of texts."
She made a gesture toward the concrete walls. "There is nothing magical about ancient Latin. That is a myth. What gives magic power is will and refinement of technique. Some languages are more precise about certain things than Ardentic, but in other ways more vague. I would recommend learning it, and Mycenaean Greek, if you do not already know it. But it is by no means necessary."
Turner tuned out about then. He was rather well-educated by most standards, but this went beyond that into deep scholarly stuff. Really not his wheelhouse.
It did prompt him to try to speak to Penelope again, though.
"Is Blakely normally so forthcoming about her work?"
Penelope checked around a corner, then motioned that it was clear, waiting until the small group was hobbling along again before she answered.
"Sometimes," the metallic voice replied. "To those she thinks can appreciate it. She thinks highly of Miss Graves because of her intelligence. And she thinks highly of you because of your persistence and because you broke through her ward."
Turner didn't think breaking through was that difficult, but he held his tongue about that. "So... you're saying she likes us?" He couldn't stop the upward lilt in his voice, giving away his disbelief.
But Penny just shook her head. "No, the Lady doesn't like anyone. I don't think she can feel that emotion. Even Reginald and I can only feel it for one another."
That almost made Turner stumble. "You can't like people? Not even think they're amusing?"
"Not the way you think of like," Penny continued. "We can respect people, feel amused by them, yeah. But we don't form attachments like you. The Lady doesn't feel anything like that, and mostly just feels respect, interest, that sort of thing. She doesn't see people as people, really."
This explained so much, but Turner never felt like an automaton would say it so plainly. "Yet you understand the concept? You know you can't feel those things but you know what they are?"
Penelope paused to look back at him. She held up her hand, so the others behind them also stopped. "In the abstract yes. The Lady can't feel anything like this, that's why she created Reginald and myself. She wanted to know why. We can feel more than her, but I don't pretend we aren't flawed. The only thing I enjoy is watching people die."
Turner's disgust must have shown on his face, because Penelope shrugged and turned away again to resume scouting ahead. She waited for some fleeing citizens to move past, and spoke again in a low voice.
"Don't look at me that way. I know I'm a monster, but I simply can't care. I'm not capable. I know what brings me pleasure and I know that others hate it, but I don't understand why. I don't try to."
She tilted her head to look back at Turner.
"We are just incomplete."
Turner really didn't know what to say to that, but he had to halt a moment later. Just down the street and across, he saw the shop. It was called Alchemy and Automatons this time, and the front looked different, but the subtle twist it gave his vision made it obvious to him. He held up a hand to halt the others, then turned to address them.
"All right, we're within sight," he stated. "But that means if another one of those things comes after us, we'll be out in the open. I'll scout out ahead, first."
Anne nodded. She still looked weak, but she lifted her head and looked at Turner. "Take Penelope with you. Anyone waiting who sees you, they may just think you're investigating the store. Penelope is obviously mine, she'll draw out any Hunter."
Turner tensed again, but Nikandros finally had a question, now that they'd stopped.
"How many of these Hunters are there?" The butler frowned and rubbed his chin. "You make it sound like they are a large and organized society."
With a shake of her head, Anne frowned. "No... not large. Organized, yes, but there aren't many. They're just very persistent. They cannot resist attacking if they see me." She sighed, "I had thought they were all dead, after what Penelope and Reginald did, but I suppose I was wrong."
Nora placed the back of her hand on Anne's cheek. "You're cold as death," she muttered. "If you get to your shop, will you recover?" Turner couldn't tell if that was concern, or if she was fishing for a possible connection.
"I can fix myself there," Anne confirmed. "I could do so in another workshop, but I'm certain mine has the proper materials. Just work on getting us there."
Turner nodded, glanced at Penelope, and muttered, "All right then. Let's do this."
And with that, he stepped out of the final alleyway. He didn't run, choosing a brisk walk instead, which allowed Penelope to keep pace easily. His eyes darted around the street, but he couldn't see any sign of being watched. The battle had gotten quieter, too. Ominous.
"You don't like me much, do you? Even less than you like the Lady."
Penelope's question floated through his ears without breaking Turner's stride, but he didn't answer at first. Not until he'd made it to the door with... no incident. That was suspicious, too.
"No," Turner replied as he flattened himself against the wall, back to the shop. He didn't clarify just yet. "Can you open the door?"
The construct-girl grabbed the handle, rattling the door first. After it was confirmed locked, she tucked her good hand into her cloak, producing from within a dark key.
"It looks like nobody broke in, but we'll take a quick look around anyway, just in case," Penny declared. She tugged her hood up as two city guards rushed past, one of them giving her a second glance but not slowing down.
It would be a little tough to explain her, so Turner was relieved for that.
The door clicked and swung open, with Penelope slipping inside first. Turner followed, closing the door behind him and turning the latch. Then he looked back to Penelope.
"We have some things to talk about."
