When he could think again, Fidget noticed something he hadn’t noticed before. Behind the statue, not far from Fidget’s eyes, was a flat box. It wasn’t a big box; it was only about a foot on one side and half that on the other, perhaps a couple of inches high.
Fidget hobbled over and opened the box, the lid coming off easily. Inside was a flat tablet of marble, and immediately he recognized the runes of magic that covered its surface, just like the pathfinder he’d stolen, but with many, many more of the little symbols.
He bent down and took the tablet out of the box. Fidget sat down and put it on his knees so that he could examine it more easily. Behind him, the man of metal stood silent.
Fidget spent days in the cave, tinkering with the tablet, forgetting about his pain, or even about hunger or thirst.
Three days after his beating, Fidget hobbled into the village. In the crook of his left arm he held a marble tablet that glowed with eerie magic, and his right hand touched it here and there.
Beside him walked a seven-foot tall man of metal.
As Fidget touched the symbols, the man would turn, or walk faster, or walk slower.
Making his was with painful steps through the village, Fidget found the boys who had hurt him, one by one. He had the iron golem – for that’s what it was, though he didn’t know it yet – hit their faces, kick their stomachs, and stamp on their necks. He didn’t say anything as he touched the tablet here and there, and beat them to death.
He found Tatem in his house with his family, in the middle of a meal. Tatem’s pa tried to stop him, but the golem was quicker, and it knocked the man down. Fidget made the man of metal beat Tatem to a bloody pulp, but left him alive.
He then burned Tatem's house down with him in it.
Fidget left the village, and they never saw him again, although they say he is out there, somewhere, with no other company but a man made out of metal.
~
Petie shivered as the old storyteller finished speaking and took a sip from his wooden cup. The other members of the group sighed, and met eyes with each other, grinning and shaking their heads.
Petie missed his pa so badly. Why did he have to die? He didn’t want to be alone this night.
“Well,” said Jenrin, “that was certainly dark.” He shook his head. “I thank you, for your stories and your company, and I hope you’ll enjoy the warmth of one of our wagons on this cold night. We should…”
He was interrupted by a new voice, a cold voice, calling from the darkness. “None of you move, there are more of us than there are you, and we won’t be here long.”
Eight men stepped into the circle of firelight. Each held a wicked sword in his hands, and they were big men. Hard men.
“It’s a cold night, but it’s about to get colder,” the leader, a burly, bearded warrior, spoke again. “We’ll be relieving you of your wagons, your clothing, your gilden…”
Out of the corner of his eye, Petie saw the old storyteller bend down, rummaging in the sack at his feet. He pulled out a flat stone and sat it on his knees.
“Excuse me,” said the storyteller in his thin voice, as his fingers danced across the stone.
A figure walked out of the night, emerging like a demon, black and terrifying. A man made out of metal.
“…There is someone I’d like you to meet.”
The Builder’s Mark
It was graceful and beautiful. Each stone had been carefully chosen, matched to its fellows and carved with little whorls and the petals of flowers. The arch was complete.
Akio stepped back and regarded his work. Then, taking a deep breath, he began to remove the wooden supports. As he dismantled the frame the stones’ weight shifted, the arch came together, and for the first time was one.
Akio’s heart hammered as he withdrew the slats. He felt the arch tremble, and froze, his hands holding a piece of wood half-way through taking it away from the stone it supported. The arch’s tremble became a rumble.
“Look out!” Norio, Akio’s father, cried.
Akio jumped away, watching as the arch broke apart, barely escaping the heavy blocks of marble that tumbled to the earth. But he'd forgotten about the step ladder behind him. Suddenly he was looking up at the sky, finally smashing the back of his head into something hard.
Finally, all was still.
Akio coughed and rolled over. He immediately thought of his father.
“Are you hurt?” Akio shot to his feet and rushed over to Norio.
“I’m fine!” Norio scowled, pushing his son away.
Akio put his hand to the back of his head and winced when he felt a lump. He looked around the quarry. Some of the other apprentices had started to come over at the commotion, but seeing that Akio and his father were unhurt, they returned to their work, shaking their heads and grinning ruefully at each other.
Though Norio was small and wizened, he had a wiry strength. He briskly turned Akio around to look at the back of his head, shaking his head as his son groaned. “You’ll never win Rika’s heart at this rate, and you certainly won't be able to count on her father's approval. You’ll be lucky to get your building license. I know I wouldn’t grant it, the way you’re going.”