I spent the next week cleaning and repairing the bakery with Keggr. Steamshot 2 was great not only for cleaning grime from crevices and floorboards, but it was also great for killing spiders. Keggr found some old glass to feed into me, and after a little trial and error, we had working windows as well. Even the upstairs transformed from a giant empty attic into a series of three small rooms plus a large space for Aranya, complete with a hatch so she could access the lower floor.

  My golem studies moved less swiftly but still advanced. I had thought that magic was just ‘know a spell and activate it’, but it turns out that getting to the part where you knew a spell well enough to activate it took time. Time and theory. I learned more about mana control in those days than all the time I had spent in Aeternia before. Eventually, on the sixth morning, while Mug and Keggr argued over Mug’s cooking and Aranya hung upside down, I managed to make a working golem.

  My first trial golem had been made with clay. It had been eight inches tall, looked like a melted doll, and had promptly thrown itself into the oven upon animating. My next few were mostly the same, only I learned to keep an obstacle blocking the oven in the room. It didn't really stop them, but it did slow them down. On the sixth day, after spending an hour tracing a pattern of mana into what would be the golem’s skeleton and another hour on the ‘brain’, I finally saw my efforts rewarded.

  I had made it a little larger; Mr. Stome recommended two feet tall as the perfect size. Any larger was too hard to control, and smaller made them unpredictable and hard to program. It was mostly red brick, and while it was humanoid, I had forgone delicate appendages like fingers or toes, instead giving it mitten-like hands and boot-like feet. After I had imbued the required mana, I waited for a long minute before it took an unsteady step forward.

  No one else was paying attention; you see enough golems choose to jump into a lit oven, you stop being so invested in their futures. I watched it stand attentively, its red mittens opening and closing by themselves.

  ‘Can you… can you hear me?’ I asked uncertainly. The Larynx of Linguists had been an easy integration into my form, but I was still getting used to it. Not having a voice of my own had probably changed my psyche in uncertain and possibly damaging ways, but I wasn’t going to dwell on that. My new voice came from deep inside me and sounded hollow and echoing and not nearly as cool as I had wanted, but it would do. The golem nodded silently.

  ‘If you can understand me, then here, take this,’ I used Alchemical Recycling to make a tiny broom and placed it in front of it with telekinesis, ‘and go and sweep that windowsill over there, next to the dwarf that needs a bath’. It nodded and set off, taking certain, short footsteps as it did so. The others were watching now, speechless as my creation clambered up a chair leg, hopped on a table, scampered across Mug’s shoulders, then landed and began to sweep the windowsill.

  “Well, I’ll be damned! Ya did it, lad! You made something worse at cleanin’ than ole Mug here!” Keggr was teasing, but there was pride in his voice. I felt slightly smug, possibly a bit proud as well. I knew it wasn’t much in the grand scheme of things, but still, I had done it. With hard work and late nights and a lot of suicidal prototypes, I had managed to learn a new skill! It felt good to complete something after failing for a week straight. I had never attempted anything out of my wheelhouse back when I was alive, meaning that I had only ever really played games, or read manga, or watched trashy anime. Expanding my horizons felt good, regardless of the utility of the learned skill.

  CONGRATULATIONS, A NEW ABILITY HAS BEEN UNLOCKED: GOLEMANCY 1.

  Well, that was a nice surprise! I decided to test it out by making another; this time, instead of the two hours I had spent on arranging mana flow and crafting the body with telekinesis, I could feel the knowledge buried deep inside me, waiting to be unleashed. I focused on my mana, felt the heat rise, then turned that onto Recycling and shaping another clay form. Right before the heat dissipated, I focused on the idea of that clay taking life, moving and acting on my will. The clay figure popped out of me and landed in front in a three-point pose, then stood to attention.

  ‘If you can hear me, go… hunt down and kill any rats left in this building. Here’. I Recycled a knife but made it small enough to act as a sort of sword for the golem. It took it in its mittens, placed the blade to its face in a weird imitation of a knight making a sacred vow, then marched off towards the nearest hole in the wall.

  ‘Please bring all rat corpses to the dwarf for disposal, thank you! First golem, help your brother? I guess? With all rat-related tasks’. It stopped sweeping, saluted, then jumped off the windowsill, tiny broom held like a baseball bat.

  This was only the start; Brock M. Stome had detailed plans for making much more advanced constructs, all laid out in short paragraphs using small words. It would take more studying, but after seeing my first two golems moving, I felt that was a small price to pay.

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  My post-golem glow was interrupted by a polite knock on the door. Aranya and Mug gave each other confused looks as Mug headed to our front door. Personally, I was expecting Stelheim’s smug face, waiting to give me another dangerous task. Instead, there was a tall half-orc male standing there, looking completely at ease. His hair was long and braided, and he wore a sharp black tunic and pants. He waved amicably before inviting himself inside, completely ignoring Mug and stepping across the threshold.

  “Whew! Nice place you got here! What has it been, a week? And already looking so posh! Real windows and everything! I have to say, you lot managed to move faster than we’d thought possible!” His voice was smooth and friendly, but the friendliness never made it to his eyes. They were flat and lifeless, examining everything and taking in every small detail.

  “Uh-oh,” Keggr let out meekly. The newcomer laughed and strode across the room in three giant steps, clapping Keggr on the arm roughly.

  “Ah, don’t be that way, dwarf! There’s no reason for ‘uh-oh’s’ or ‘oh gods’ or anything else like that! I’m just here acting as the legitimate face of the Red Tusks, here to collect on a small loan that was provided, that’s all! I didn’t even bring any kneebreakers with me, man!” He laughed, but I didn’t think it was a joke. So, this is one of the smugglers that Keggr bought building supplies from. Well, I knew we were going to have to pay sooner or later, so I guess this was fine.

  ‘Excuse me, Mister…’ I waited for him to give me a name. He feigned shock, jumping back and covering his mouth with his hand.

  “So it’s true! On the streets, the word is that this bakery has some kind of talking trashcan running things, but of course, people on the streets can be so unreliable. It seems in this instance they were right though!” He straightened his tunic and looked directly at me, dropping his fake smile.

  “It’s Borik. Bloodied Face of the Red Tusks. And you are… Lugenhelm of the Royal Court, correct? The same Lugenhelm that fixed that bit of trouble in the mana-steel mines outside of town and straightened up some issues with Lord Alard Pauvert, yes?” This man was clearly well-informed. Also, was ‘Bloodied Face’ his title or position or something? Because it sounded… well, terrifying.

  ‘Yes, Mister Borik, that would be myself. Tell me, how much do we owe you? I understand my friend here borrowed some capital from your organization for supplies. We are grateful, by the way’. Borik nodded thoughtfully, sitting down uninvited in a chair and sipping from Mug’s cup of coffee. So, it was going to be like that, huh? I pondered asking Aranya to rip him apart but didn’t want to have to re-clean the floors. Plus, it was probably not a great idea to kill a member of a criminal organization for rudeness. Probably.

  “Well, Lugenhelm, your friend Keggr, son of Skeggr, borrowed from us a total of 13 gold coins. Factoring interest payments, insurance payments, protection payments, and of course a courtesy fee, that puts your new total at… by my count, 121 gold and 40 silver. Of course, we can just call it 120 gold even. In the interest of friendship." 120 gold? I wanted to ask if he’d lost his mind, but time began to dilate and slow before I could yell.

  Obviously, this was absurd even by criminal organization standards; the idea was to make the mark pay that 120 gold over a lifetime, not all at once. Besides, they had sent only one person; if they really expected us to fork over that much money all at once, they would have come with some of their ‘kneebreakers’ to make sure we complied. Borik was clearly a charismatic, talkative type; in other words, a dealmaker. Add that to the fact that they knew who we were and where we had been…they didn't want money. They needed something from us. Rather, they had a job for us.

  Time resumed at normal pace again. Aranya had lowered herself from the rafters and was watching Borik intently.

  “Should I eat him? I know you said nothing that talks, but surely insults don’t count as conversation, Lugenhelm?” He gave a small chuckle, but there was a flash of real fear for a moment on his face. Yeah, Aranya had that effect on people.

  ‘No Aranya, this man is our guest. Besides, he was just getting to the part where he told us what his organization really wants’. This got a real laugh out of him, his big green hand clapping in front of him.

  “They said you were sharp, Lugenhelm, but I didn’t believe that either! Here I am, wrong twice!” He sat up straight in his chair and looked right at me, hands pressed down on the table.

  “Look, I’ll be frank. We as an organization are willing to overlook certain debts if you and your crew are willing to do a little favor for us. One hand scratches the other, you know?” I thought for a second before answering.

  ‘What is it? We’re not taking anyone out or robbing anyone or anything like that’. He made a face of mock horror.

  “What kind of an organization do you think we are, Mr. Lugenhelm? We would never dream of asking non-members to commit violence or theft for us! How would we initiate new recruits?”

  ‘So what is it then? Spit it out before Aranya gets too hungry. As you can see, you interrupted our breakfast. Heck, even Mug is looking a bit peckish’. Implying that Mug was a cannibal felt a bit mean-spirited, but to his credit, he rolled with it, licking his lips and thumbing his fork menacingly. I couldn’t help but notice that his back was wider than Borik’s, even if Borik was a bit taller.

  Borik cleared his throat and then stood up.

  “I would love to tell you the details, but unfortunately, I am not authorized to speak freely in such an unsecured environment. If you would like to follow me, we can go to a place a bit more… protected. Of course, I can always leave now and come back with some associates for the gold balance, if that’s too much trouble?” So, go with him now or fight a gang war later. Tough choice.

  ‘Come on, Mug. Let’s go to a criminal hideout. You too Keggr.' Keggr moaned but got up and followed us as we left. Aranya watched us then pulled herself back to the ceiling. I had a feeling she was thinking the same thing I was; if she came, she was definitely going to complicate matters by killing someone. Well, her overwhelming presence over my metaphorical shoulder was nice, but this was a problem for the boys.

  We followed Bloodied Face Borik out of our home into the unknown of the slums. Well, surely whatever the Red Tusks threw at us would be easier than our last few scuffles, right?