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391. This is Hostages
🕑 Added 2025-05-13 14:00:09 +0000 UTCIke gathered all the artisans on the floor. There were only a dozen to start with, and after Wisp’s timely lunch break and Ike’s somewhat reluctant efforts, only about six remained. The floor was full of puppets, half-built and disassembled. Puppets with beyond-perfect faces. Puppets with weapons tucked into every limb. Puppets full of mysterious magics, with enchantments Ike couldn’t possibly comprehend etched into every inch of their porcelain bodies. Puppets with strange crystal eyes that glowed with a life of their own.
“Isn’t this just fucked up,” Ike muttered, taking it all in. He looked at the artisans. “Did you guys enjoy this?”
One of the braver ones cleared her throat. “Puppetmaking is something many people find an enjoyable hobby—”
“Forget I asked. Where’s the big guy?” Ike looked around at the artisans, who were sitting on the floor around him. “You know who I mean. Brightbriar.”
“Lord Brightbriar commissioned our efforts, but we never met him,” one of them said quickly—a little too quickly.
“Hey, Wisp. Someone just offered to be dessert,” Ike said.
“Dessert? I was gonna eat the guy you left upstairs for dessert.” She gestured over her shoulder, back toward the artisan’s offices.
“An apéritif for your next meal?”
Wisp nodded. “That works.”
“We—we don’t—no one needs to eat anyone! Brightbriar—he came and left through the floor,” the brave girl said, throwing herself between Wisp and the guy who’d lied.
Wisp looked at Ike. “Can I still eat him, though?”
Ke twisted his lips and shrugged. “I mean, we probably shouldn’t? We need them motivated to talk, not too scared to breathe.”
“Yeah. Besides, I have dessert guy upstairs.”
“His name was Don,” the man spat defiantly.
“Besides, I have dessert Don upstairs,” Wisp corrected herself.
Ike shook his head at the man. “The one thing you shouldn’t do, is try to reason with a madman. You should know that. You work with Brightbriar.”
“True,” one artisan muttered in the back.
The others looked at him.
“What? You’re telling me you weren’t fed up with that asshole ordering us around all the time for no reason? Change the shade this, fix the width that. If he wants a puppet of the king that detailed, he can make it himself!”
Ike winced. “Ooh. I’ve got bad news. Any of you like the king?”
A few of them nodded, including the one who’d just spoken.
“You’ve all taken part in assisting regicide via Brightbriar. Have fun explaining that one in court. But before we do all that, how about you show me where his secret entrance is?”
None of the artisans moved. A few of them stiffened in fear, their eyes slowly widening as the immensity of their crime soaked in.
Ike cleared his throat. “…Show me the secret entrance, so I can fuck off and some highly skilled mannequin artisans, who definitely didn’t work on a king-lookalike puppet, can vanish into the city to never be found again, to the great sadness of the forces of justice, who will never find their culprits?”
At that, the artisans got the hint. The brave girl jumped to, leading him across the warehouse, and another of the artisans ran to a seemingly disconnected pulley and began feeding mana into it. The floor grumbled and groaned, and a section of planks in the center of the warehouse dropped with a thud, then rumbled slowly out of sight under the rest of the floor. A dark hole appeared in its place, opening straight down as far as Ike could see, until it faded into pure black.
“How many times are we going to jump into ominous dark holes before we figure out that it’s a bad idea?” Ike asked, staring into yet another ominous dark hole.
“Probably a lot. Hey, there was one where it was a good idea. You remember the one in the King’s trial, with the giant centipede?” Wisp asked.
“Yeah, that almost killed us?” Ike reminded her.
“Oh, sure, but her babies were delicious.”
“They were,” Mag agreed, hopping over to join them on the edge.
“Your priorities are fucked up,” Ike said, shaking his head.
Scar looked at the three of them. “You’re really going in there?”
“Yeah? How else are we going to find Brightbriar’s secret base?” Ike asked.
“He’s probably waiting for you. Probably set up unimaginable traps and tricks, waiting for you to fall into them,” she pointed out.
“I’d feel bad if he went to all that effort for nothing,” Ike said.
“It’s his stronghold. Are you really prepared?”
“Will we ever be?”
Scar looked over them, resigned in a certain way. “Nothing’s going to change your minds, is it.”
“If a giant dragon came flying out of this hole right now, I’d probably go figure something else out,” Ike allowed. He waited a few seconds, then turned to Scar and shrugged. “Guess not.”
“We don’t really do plans. We just kinda show up places and do things. Mostly, we get away with it,” Wisp explained to Scar.
“I’ve noticed that. I don’t know how you guys are still alive, but I guess it works for you,” Scar muttered. She backed away. “I think I’ll leave this to you. I’ll… I’ll go gather the rest of them. Everyone else who opposes Brightbriar. It might not be much, but if you really are going to confront him—”
Wisp spread her hands, tilting her head to get a better look at Scar. “We wouldn’t want them to feel left out.”
“—you’ll need the support. Or that. Sure,” Scar muttered. She shook her head and turned, then jogged out of the facility.
Ike and Wisp watched her go. They exchanged a look. “Odds she alerts Brightbriar?” Ike asked.
“We already got the puppet her,” Wisp pointed out.
“Brightbriar isn’t limited to one puppet per person,” Ike riposted.
“I was going to say, odds anyone shows up?” Wisp said. “I mean, they’ve been ‘opposing Llewyn’ or Brightbriar or whatever for years now, but I haven’t seen much motion. Bet they’re just gonna fuck off, then show up when we win and claim credit for our victory.”
“Anything to distract attention to how we defeat Brightbriar by feeding him live to a giant spider,” Ike muttered under his breath.
“Oh true, true, they’ll have to claim credit for the maneating spider. Yooo, how crazy can we get with the execution, if they’re just going to take credit? Like, how fucked up can we make it, just to ruin that useless group’s attempts to take credit?”
Ike snorted. “Let’s beat Brightbriar first, then worry about that.”
“You got it, boss. That’s why you’re boss,” Wisp said, nodding.
Mag hopped in place, then looked at them. “Are we going? I want to jump.”
“Yeah, yeah. Wisp?”
A familiar weight landed on his shoulder as Wisp crouched there in human form, gripping his shoulder with her toes. Ike stepped forward, and dropped into the pitch darkness.
