Chapter Text
1 — During the Funeral of the Fair Lady
Dottore was the first to leave, barely looking at the rest of them as he muttered to himself in his usual drunken sounding ramble. Brilliant to some, useless noise to her. Sandrone could feel the Captain’s displeasure, the quiet disdain he usually kept so carefully hidden shining through the small sigh that left him as the Doctor’s footsteps resounded. Then Childe got restless, twisting away from his spot near the wall and sneaking away in the shadows. That gave the Rooster and Pantalone the excuse they needed to leave, both folded over in their usual conspiracy.
Their leader was gone next, summoning Capitano with him as the ice grew further down the windows of the mausoleum. There was no obligation to stay after that, Sandrone could practically feel the weight of all the tasks she had left scheduled for the day weighing down on her shoulders. So much to do, so little time to do it.
And yet, she could not leave.
It wasn’t like she particularly liked Rosalyne, like most of her colleagues, she considered her to be a useful annoyance at best. Rosalyne spent most of her time running from one side of Tevyat to the other, chasing after the gnosis like the rest of the fools.
“Go, Pulonia.” She dared to break through the solemn silence. “Start running the tests we agreed on and warm up the forge for me.”
She jumped off his arm, brushing the edge of her skirt and stepping towards the coffin.
Poor, foolish, Rosalyne. Sandrone sighed, running a finger down the side of the coffin and scratching at some of the frost. At least she was back with that lover she always moaned after, that was not something Sandrone would not miss.
Her ear pricked as the singing that had been filling the air finally stopped, it had been going on for so long that Sandrone had filed it away as background.
“It’s just the three of us now.” Arlecchino was the first to speak, “there’s no use in keeping up appearances."
The Fourth Harbinger tightened the cloak around her shoulder, before reaching to the side of the coffin and sending a burst of fire to melt the ice accumulating at the seams.
“What are you doing!” Sandrone couldn’t help herself, watching as Arlecchino slid open the top to reveal only a shattered delusion lying on a pillow of silk.
“There was no body.” Arlecchino sighed, “this was all the Shogunate sent to our embassy.”
“We already knew that, Arlecchino.” Sandrone rolled her eyes, “it’s not like it’s a surprise, I mean…what was she even thinking? making that challenge?”
“That she would win.” Columbina spoke in that soft, sullen way she always did, the Moon Maiden reaching out a hand to touch the end of the delusion. “Do you have something better to put in its place, Arle?”
Arlecchino reached into her coat, removing a scorched black crown and placing it in the center. “My children found this.”
Sandrone removed a broken piece of poetry, the remains of a gold-lacquered tea cup and snuck it under the delusion. “It broke when I was moving it.” She explained, not bothering to mention that it was thrown.
“Hmm…” Columbina let out a quiet sigh, “I didn’t know we’d be doing this, I don’t have anything of hers.”
“It’s not like we planned it.” Sandrone crossed her arms, “but unlike the rest of those fools at least we can say we knew her.”
“I always was under the impression that she and Scaramouche got along just fine.”
“What?” Sandrone frowned, “why would you even say that? They were always screaming at each other, it was frankly irritating. And look, he’s nowhere to be seen.”
Columbina shrugged, “sometimes, they shared silence.”
More of her usual nonsense, Sandrone crossed her arms, waiting for Arlecchino to close the coffin so they could leave.
But The Knave made no move to do so, simply staring at Columbina for a moment before saying, “it doesn’t have to be something tangible. Maybe you could leave her something to listen to…wherever she’s going.”
“Oh?” Columbina floated up a bit, going to crouch at the open end of the coffin. “Would she like that?”
Sandrone sighed, “just do it, I’m starting to get cold.”
Columbina tilted her head then did something completely inappropriate for the situation. She laughed. The noise was even, almost pleasant as it drifted across the rafters.
“What’s so funny, Columbina?” Sandrone resisted the urge to raise her tone. “I’m in no mood for you right now.”
“I thought you didn’t get cold?” Columbina tapped the edge of her cheek, “That’s all.”
Sandrone shifted on her feet, “I’m saying it on your behalf, if we don’t move, we’ll get entombed with her. Now, up, up, sing us a song and let’s leave, please.”
Columbina let out a breath, the wings behind her back fluttering once as she pressed her hand to her heart and sang. It was some silly song about two lovers being split apart by time and finding each other in a sea of flowers at the end of the world. Exactly the kind of sentimental nonsense that Rosalyne would’ve loved. Or maybe she would’ve made some snarky comment in the name of getting Sandrone to ‘lighten up’ as she often reproached.
Sandrone was certain about one thing, she’d lost a very good reason to laugh, she doubted her module would find a way to do so again for quite a bit.
Columbina floated down when she was done, leaving a single glowing feather behind to float into the coffin as Arlecchino finally shut it. Sandrone tapped the edge of it once more, stretching her joints a bit as she muttered something unrecognizable even to herself. The closest thing to grief since Alain had left her.
“Will her majesty find someone to replace Rosalyne?” Columbina asked, gently bouncing on the tips of her feet as they left the hall.
Sandrone twisted the joint of her thumb, noting how stiff it was.
“We are the eleven.” Arlecchino answered, “and there is no one suitable to take Rosalyne’s place.”
Not like there had been in her case, Sandrone noted the unsaid, when the previous Knave had been slayed by Arlecchino’s own hand.
Arlecchino’s words seemed to please Columbina who let out a happy hum as she jumped all the way to the door. It was frozen shut which meant they both had to stand back as Arlecchino melted the joints and pushed it open. The mausoleum had been built in a single day by Pantalone’s men, it was a good half-an-hour away from a train that could carry them back to Snezhnograd proper. They’d chosen a useless piece of land whose occupancy would not hinder the Tsaritsa in any way and far enough that the dear people of Snezhnaya would not be tempted to take a break in their work to pay their respect. No, no, that would damage productivity.
Columbina floated out into the snow, laughing a bit as she spotted a few snow hares and tried to beckon them over. Arlecchino forged ahead, her strong figure vanishing quickly amongst the snowstorm that was building. Sandrone found herself unable to move forward, looking back at the monument of marble and glass. She would not come back to this place once she left, there was no reason to.
She wasn’t sure why that made her feel so conflicted.
Long ago, when she’d first joined the Tsarista’s services, Sandrone had tried removing the emotional part of her core module. It had been a distraction, she’d be forging along in her work and then would see a small broken automaton amongst her workshop that would remind her of Alain. Then work would stop and her stupid module would get stuck on wanting to rebuild it, unable to move on until the task was complete.
She’d taken a wrench to the module, tried to adjust it to lower the propensity for emotional reactions, for any kind of reactions. It hadn’t worked. If anything, it had made everything worse. Easily irritable and frustrated. She’d given up, cursing Alain’s name not for the first time and deciding she’d just apply an external suppressor to the core’s function. That stupid thing broke once a month though, leaving her easily prone to snapping and baying.
It had probably just broken once more, that’s why she felt like this, she’d have to open herself up to try and fix it. She let out a sigh, that would set her back another thirty minutes and she was already twelve hours behind schedule for the month.
She found a rock and kicked it which led to Columbina making a startled sound as the hares vanished back amongst the snow.
The Damselette turned towards her, and Sandrone held her tongue as her comrade skipped up to her side. She almost choked—something difficult considering she only had a vocal box—as Columbina threw her arms around her neck and hugged her close.
“What are you—”
“Hush now,” Columbina said, “it’s okay to be sad.”
“I’m not sad!” Sandrone almost shouted, “I’m not. I don’t care, humans are fragile enough, it happens to all of them, you’ll see. It’s easy to get used to.”
“But Rosalyne was the only person who knew how to make you laugh.”
“What?” Sandrone stammered, “don’t forget that I laugh plenty at your shenanigans.”
“It’s not the same.” Columbina sighed, “that’s an outraged laugh, Rosalyne knew how to make you belly laugh.”
“What?”
“From here.” Columbina reached over her shoulder and poked at her stomach, “sometimes, you’d laugh so hard you fell out of your chair and you couldn’t stop.”
She didn’t need any reminder of that, “so what?”
“I always thought it was quite fun to watch you.” Columbina swung in front of her, cupping her cheek. “Maybe you should take the half-day that the Rooster gave us, we can walk Zapolyarny Palace and see the courtiers performing the mourning song. It could be nice.”
Sandrone grasped at Columbina’s arm, noting how soft her skin felt to her sensory processor before shoving her back.
“I can’t.” Sandrone declared, “we don’t have time for such nonsense…well, maybe you do, but I don’t.”
Columbina tilted her head, looking almost dejected, “Very well. Shall we walk back together at least?”
That much, Sandrone could acquiesce too. She refused the hand Columbina tended her way, forging the path through the thickening snow and not letting herself take a single glance back at the mausoleum. Sandrone was used to people leaving, they just weren’t as permanent as machinery, they couldn’t last. Even Columbina, eternal Moon Maiden though she was, could not beat the lifetime of steel. She couldn’t be fixed once she broke, not like Sandrone’s automatons could. So what was the point in getting attached, you were just setting yourself up for an inevitable failure.
And still, Sandrone slowed her pace when she noticed Columbina lagging behind.
2 — From Their Very First Meeting
Sandrone threw her wrench across the room as Katheryne’s voice box bugged for the fifth time in a row, repeating the introductory phrase again and again in a rather low tone.
“Stupid kids!” Sandrone cried, “doing that to her. Ugh, I’m so done with this!”
She heard Pulonia chirp behind her, the large automaton having bent down to retrieve her wrench and handing it back to her.
“Thanks.” She muttered, “you don’t have to stay here with me, go rest.”
Pulonia titled his head, before falling back on his limbs and sitting down on the other side of her workbench. There was a small beep from his core as his limbs snapped downwards into a rest position. Sandrone let out a sigh, tapping the wrench against her brow and looking back at the ruined Katheryne.
A pair of kids had amused themselves, luring her out of her booth and sending her tumbling down the steep steps next to the Liyue headquarters. Sandrone had received the alert that the robot was down right as she was about to start packing for another expedition to a Khaenri'ahn ruin that she was certain Dottore hadn’t heard of yet. She had to abandon leading the project herself, sending Pulonia to assemble some of her more capable automatons in her place as she retrieved Katheryne from off the steps of Liyue before anyone noticed anything peculiar about her.
She’d thought of finding the kids and snapping a few of their fingers for their carelessness but her risk aversion process told her that was a poor plan. It was an accident according to what Katheryne had recorded, not worth the trouble of alerting the Millelith of her presence. She’d already been fortunate the incident had happened at night where there were few witnesses. There was little use in testing her luck.
She knew the other Harbingers’ liked to brag about their extensive spy networks, Dottore had all of his fragments scattered to the wind while the Knave kept her children hidden in all the nooks of the world. But Sandrone was pretty confident in saying she was the best informed of the Harbingers. Founding the Adventure Guild had been a stroke of genius; an inoffensive organization with a friendly face, designed to accept commissions that the people of the seven nations could not be bothered to do themselves or were too dangerous to attempt. She’d established the first branch in Mondstadt, and it had quickly gained a glowing reputation. The best part was that no one even suspected she was involved which meant that Sandrone could access all the best intel about ruins, excavations sites, you name it, before anyone else could even think to look. Best of all, people were always opening up their hearts to Katheryne, eager to tell the soft-hearted automaton about their troubles and family secrets. And when Sandrone couldn’t be bothered to go somewhere on her own, all she had to do was slip out a commission and wait for the first gullible adventurer to do her work for her. It was truly her best idea to date.
She’d managed to reset all of Katheryne’s limbs and fix the wiring that had snagged but she didn’t have time to fix the voice box. It had snapped clean in half, needing some major soldering work to get it back into a working condition. She’d tried to see if she could simply replace it but none of the voice boxes she had matched Katheryne’s dulcet tone. If her prized automaton suddenly sounded different, people would get suspicious.
“Alright, fine.” She ripped out the voice box, “you win, I’ll fix this thing properly.”
She really needed to get in the habit of building backups.
She turned to carry it back to her worktable, her processors noting that it would add an additional three hours of delay to her plans. It was her own fault for choosing such a complicated voice box; she’d wanted the Katherynes to sound human and warm, with none of the choppiness and stuttering associated with automatons of all kinds. She’d modeled it after the one Alain had made for her, dusting off the schematics from the recesses of her mind.
Dropping the ruined thing onto the work bench, she went to look for a thin screwdriver to prop it open when a pale face was thrust into hers. She almost let out a yell, yanking herself back as a young woman floated above her workbench with a peculiar smile. The girl was all feathers and fur, the only hint of colour that wasn’t blue and white coming from her black hair dipped in a rose-like pink.
“Who do you think you—” Sandrone cut herself off as the young woman let out a laugh. “What’s so funny? Who are you?”
She couldn’t be an intruder, Sandrone’s workshop was deep within the recess of Zapolyarny Palace and the frail woman didn’t look like she could fight through all those soldiers, let alone Capitano. She had to be a new recruit of some kind, if so, she was in for a rude awakening, no one snuck into Sandrone’s workshop and left with all of their limbs intact.
“I ought to take your tongue out.” Sandrone said as the young woman just dissolved into more laughter, rolling into a ball and floating up a bit higher.
“Sorry, sorry.” The young woman dried her tears, “I just didn’t expect you to have vents.”
“What?!”
“When I scared you, steam came out of your neck.” The young woman pointed at the exhaust ports on the side of Sandrone’s collarbones. “It surprised me, that’s all.”
Sandrone felt her core heat up once more, slapping a hand over one of the exhaust. “I do not get scared, now who are you?” She glanced back, “Pulonia, wake up! We have an unwelcome guest.”
The large automaton lumbered back to his feet, firing up his hand cannon and pointing it in the direction of the young woman.
“Whoop.” The young woman raised her hands up, spinning once before standing on top of the workbench. “I come in peace.”
“I said who are you! I don’t like repeating myself.”
“The Tsarista called me the Damselette, that suits me, I believe.” The young woman curtsied, “Columbina, at your service.”
Columbina, she repeated the name a few times, her core finally processing it as belonging to the…the third Harbinger? The mysterious Damselette who never showed sight nor sound at any of the Harbinger meetings, who rumor said was as deadly as she was absent. Sandrone waved her hand back, ordering Pulonia to stand down as Columbina swayed a bit before jumping down from the workbench. Common courtesy dictated that Sandrone show some respect to Columbina, she did outrank her after all. But Columbina had invaded her workshop, the only place of sanctuary that Sandrone had in the Zapolyarny Palace, that was not something she forgave.
“Did you want something?” Sandrone crossed her arms with a huff, “I’m busy, you know.”
“Just to introduce myself.” Columbina answered, “the Captain said it might be beneficial for me to meet some of you.”
“Well, I’m Sandrone, the Marionette.” Sandrone rolled her eyes, “this is my workshop, nice to meet you, now get out.”
Columbina giggled, “You really are straight to the point, that’s novel. What are you working on?”
“Why do you care?”
“Indulge me?” There was a veil covering Columbina’s eyes, making it impossible to decipher how sincere the smile she had on was. “I am your superior after all.”
Columbina let out a grumble, “not really how the ranks work…I’m just fixing an automaton of mine, really, it’s quite boring.”
“I’ve never seen technology like this.” Columbina walked back around the worktable, poking at the voice box. “What does it do?”
Sandrone did not want to be playing teacher for some lost angel but there was probably a reason Columbina was number three. She flexed her joints a bit, forcing a smile with gritted teeth as she said, “it’s a mach-three tertiary voice box, designed to be integrated into a human-like automaton to give them a reassuring and realistic voice.”
“Human-like? Huh, I guess that explains why I thought you were poking around a corpse earlier.” Columbina floated around again, poking at some of the gear pieces hanging from the ceiling. “There’s so much stuff in here, how wonderful. I visited the Captain’s quarters but he keeps it all quite bare, this is a nice change.”
“It’s fragile!” Sandrone warned, using her hip to knock Columbina to the side before she stuck her fingers in the wrong place. “Stop poking around, you’ll lose a finger.”
Columbina stretched out her hand, tilting her head a bit before asking, “would you make me a new one if that happened?”
“Only if Her Majesty asked.”
“Hmm, amusing.” Columbina floated up onto a higher post, perching herself and looking down. “You can keep working, I’ll stay quiet.”
“What exactly do you intend to do?”
“To watch you work, I’m very curious.”
“Pulonia!” Sandrone shouted again, fully intending to order her companion to drag Columbina out of the workshop when she caught the slightest glimpse of pink from behind the veil. She could see flutters of Columbina’s eyes, bright and almost dewy, it made her core rock in a strange direction.
Sandrone let out a sigh, “keep an eye on our guest, make sure she doesn’t touch anything.”
Columbina clapped her hands lightly, Sandrone turning back to her workbench with some reluctance as she tried to focus back on the task at hand. So long as it doesn’t become a habit, Sandrone told herself as she started peeling back the metal caging.
3 — During a Peculiar Tea Party
Sandrone measured the temperature again, nodding once as she poured the water into the steeper and stepped back. The others were waiting patiently, Arlecchino had set out the pastries on a multi-level cake platter while Signora polished off each of their choice teacups. Only Columbina was lazing around, the Third Harbinger had floated up to the porthole window and was staring out of it with some mysticism. She’d posted herself there from the start, occasionally doing flips backwards out of seeming boredom.
“Six minutes.” Sandrone declared, ordering Pulonia to draw some of the curtains in for them. The sun was setting, starting to cut across the room in a way that was sure to burn the eyelids of those with soft human eyes. “Will you come down from the window, Columbina! What are you even looking for, you’re driving me nuts.”
“The Captain.” Columbina floated down, landing with a hop. “I invited him.”
“Huh?” Sandrone seemed to be the only one unaware of this, neither Arlecchino nor Signora had a particular reaction. “What? Why was I not consulted on this? Next thing I know you’re going to invite Dottore or Pantalone, ugh.”
“Of course not.” Columbina shook her head, “I know you don’t like those two.”
“Sure, what’s the point of stretching our little circle past its limit? Trying to cozy up to Number One.”
“Not really, it’s just that Capitano thinks that Number Eleven, ah, Tartaglia, I mean, needs to be socialized more.”
Sandrone blinked, “what is he some kind of dog?”
“He does seem to have that temperament.” Signora huffed from her corner. “Apparently he was prone to biting other soldiers’ during recruitment.”
“Biting.” Sandrone replied incredulously, “and we are meant to put up with this?”
“It could be interesting.” Signora shrugged, “But if that rascal comes anywhere near me with those teeth, I’ll skin him.”
“I don’t think the Tsarista will approve.” Arlecchino said, the slightest hint of a smile on her face.
“Pulonia.” Sandrone called, “set yourself to taser mode, if that red head so much as twitches in my direction, put him down.”
“Red head.” Columbina bounced up a bit, “you’ve met him? What’s he like?”
“Annoying and young.” Sandrone replied, “like you.”
Columbina tilted her head, “I’m not sure I agree, I’m quite old, you know. And you’re the only one who complains about me being annoying.”
“Don’t take it personal, Columbina.” Signora laughed, “The day our dear Sandrone doesn’t find someone annoying is the day we’ll hear wedding bells.”
“Whatever.” Sandrone said, her auditory sensors picking up the sound of the door to the sunroom clicking open and two sets of footsteps marching towards them. “You can make up your own mind about him. They’re here.”
Columbina sat down next to Arlecchino as the Captain made his entrance, looking a bit less imposing than usual on account of the practically shivering anxiety emanating from the young man next to him.
“What is this, some kind of tea party?” Tartaglia’s eyes were practically bulging, “I thought this was a sparring session?"
“I never said that.” Capitano answered, “but if you behave, maybe one of them will agree to join you in the ring.”
Tartaglia was still eyeing the door so the Captain yanked him by the shoulder and practically shoved him down onto an armchair.
“Thank you for inviting us, Columbina.” Capitano said as he took a seat in the place Sandrone usually claimed for herself. She let it pass without comment, there were some people even she respected. “I hope we are not imposing.”
“Generally,” Signora said, “it is polite to ask all present parties their opinion, but since it’s you, Capitano, we’ll let it slide.”
“Much obliged.”
Tartaglia was visibly fidgeting as Sandrone had Pulonia remove two additional cups from storage and pour out an even amount of tea for everyone.
“I believe Arlecchino provided the tea this time.” Columbina said, “We usually have a bit of a story about where it’s from.”
“It’s chamomile.” Arlecchino said, “from the Erinnyes Forest in Fontaine, I had one of the children fetch it for me. It’s meant to soothe spirits and encourage sleep, something important for all of us here.”
Sandrone added a hint of milk to hers, enjoying the way the water became a murky yellow. Alain had added taste receptors to the back of her throat, a thoroughly useless feature that Sandrone had never had the heart to remove. She had a receptacle in the pit of her torso where the food was emptied and could be processed into extra energy for her. Most of the time, she just drank refined oil for efficiency’s sake (taking care to turn off her taste processors lest she get affronted by the bitterness of it) but tea was a luxury even she allowed herself.
“Can that robot fight?” Tartaglia cut in, right as Capitano was in the middle of explaining some of the recent incursions into Nod Krai.
“His name.” Sandrone set the teacup down decidedly, “is Pulonia. Use it.”
The young man repeated with a very dry tone, “Can Pulonia fight?”
“Very well.” Sandrone smiled, “I believe he’d be apt at tearing out that annoying tongue of yours.”
“I’ve only said like two words.” Tartaglia protested as Columbina giggled.
“Don’t take it personally,” The Third Harbinger said, “Sandrone is always threatening to rip out tongues, but I’ve never seen her do it.”
Sandrone huffed, turning back to her diminishing tea and feeling very much unrelaxed.
“Pulonia is very gifted at fighting." Columbina continued, “Sometimes, we have fun chasing each other through the halls of Zapolyarny Palace playing ‘who can hit the other with a laser beam’. It’s very fun.”
“What?” Sandrone lifted both brows, “You—I’ve never heard of this.” She turned a suspicious glare to Pulonia but her companion simply powered down, evading her questions. “Unbelievable…”
“See, Pulonia is quite amusing.” Columbina said, “he’s even learned how to disobey Sandrone.”
“You’re the one who taught him that!” Sandrone pointed an accusatory finger causing everyone in the room to laugh. “Columbina!”
Columbina let out a peep, floating up into the ceiling as Sandrone picked up a macaron and threw it in her direction.
“Hey!” Signora protested as Arlecchino said, “no violence against the macarons, please, Arlette spent a lot of time making them.”
Columbina floated up behind the Captain, using him as a shield as Sandrone fell back onto her chair. Tartaglia was sitting upright, his finger hovering over the knife in his belt; Sandrone wasn’t sure what he’d gone through to become so jumpy but she wasn’t keen to find out.
“All Harbingers have their quirks.” Capitano finally spoke, “you’ll learn them in time, Tartaglia. Sandrone’s just happens to be her short temper.”
Sandrone fumed a bit, feeling almost chastised as she composed herself and said, “I run test runs on Pulonia to make sure his combat capabilities are up to speed. If you agree to help, you can give fighting him a whirl.”
That seemed to make the kid’s eyes shine for the first time, he gave her a furtive nod before downing his tea in one gulp.
“I like him.” Columbina declared after ambushing Sandrone in the hallway once the tea party concluded.
“I thought told you to stop doing that.” Sandrone grumbled, “and what are you even talking about?”
“Tartaglia.” Columbina sighed, “but I don’t think he’s anything like me.”
“Oh sure,” Sandrone removed the key at her waist, unlocking the workshop. “The Tsarista will be sending him on missions. He’s useful, unlike you.”
“Hey…” Columbina huffed, following her inside. “That’s not very nice.”
“What is there to like?” Sandrone asked, watching as Columbina took her spot on her usual perch which was now decorated with string lights and moon shaped pillows. “He’s just a dumb kid.”
“The Captain said something about young blood being good for our rank.” Columbina declared, “And he’s right, now that I think about it, apart from Arlecchino, we are all quite old. I think it makes us more cranky.”
“Who are you calling cranky?” Sandrone pushed aside some schematics, reaching for the field-tiller core she’d managed to recover. “I’d be fine if people stopped bothering me all the time.”
“And if Dottore stopped stealing all of the good research materials.”
“Don’t remind me of that!” Sandrone warned, just the past week she’d shown up to a promising ruin site in Sumeru only to find it already looted with the Doctor’s distinct style.
“I snuck into his office.”
“Huh?” Sandrone looked up sharply, Columbina was looking up at the ceiling. “Why’d you go and do something like that?”
“I was bored.” The Moon-maiden declared, “and I wanted to see just what he was working on so hard all of the time, he’s quite secretive.”
“Find anything interesting?” Sandrone removed a piece of paneling, “say, if you managed to avoid getting spotted, maybe you could go back and swipe something for me.”
“He was looking into the three moons.” Columbina said, ignoring her previous request. “Seemed very interested in different uses for kuuvahki.”
“Who isn’t?” Sandrone shrugged, “we’re all scrambling for new sources of energy since Indemnitium has been so unstable as of late. I need those fools in Fontaine to get their shit together before I have to go down there myself. I’m glad Arlecchino said she’d be on the case soon.”
“It seemed like more than that.” Columbina floated down, “if I stole some schematics, could you tell me that they were for?”
“Did the Doctor write them?”
“Yes.”
“Then probably not.”
“Huh?” Columbina jumped up once, floating up and sticking her face into Sandrone’s “why not?”
“Because he’s a disorganized mess with bad handwriting, comes with the name.” Sandrone explained, “honestly, if I could figure out what happened in that man’s head, I’d probably be number two instead of him, he’s that…frustrating.”
“You couldn’t even give it a try?”
Sandrone set down her wrench, “my poor, dear Columbina. Allow me to give you some piece of advice, you need to stay away from the Doctor.”
“Are you scared of him, Sandrone? That’s unlike you.”
She tried not to picture Columbina’s body stretched out on an operation table, her organs carefully labeled in glass dishes as Dottore stood over her with a scalpel. Sandrone had quickly learned that there were people—in spite of the heavy amount of disdain she had for the man—that you simply avoided.
“I’m not scared of anything.” Sandrone huffed, “I’m cautious around people that are certifiably insane. Dottore’s the kind of man that would give up his own heart if it meant advancing his research, the kind willing to dissect his mother if he felt her body held secrets. Now, imagine what he’d do to someone he can’t be bothered to care for.”
“Hmm.” Columbina tilted her head, “I wonder if the two of us would be strong enough to deal with him.”
“He’s Number Two.” Sandrone sniffed, “I’d rather not have to find out. Besides, Harbingers are forbidden from harming one another.”
“Ah!” Columbina said as Sandrone realized the mistake she’d made, “so I can steal those papers and you can take a look at them. We’re immune to his experimentations.”
“If you feel comfortable going crying to Her Majesty when he starts threatening to rip into our innards, be my guest. I won’t let myself look so pitiful.”
“Thank you Sandrone.” Columbina poked her cheek, “I’ll be back.”
Two days later, a mess of schematics was waiting for her at her workbench, a post-it with a winky face drawn on it left on top of them. And Sandrone, despite her reluctance, sat down with Pulonia to try and make something of them. There was something about Columbina that made her impossible to refuse.