Chapter Text
The castle was quite busy, work to do, much work to do, wayward lord coming home, back from caves much unknown. I, too, had much work to do, here in this room. I unlocked the door and walked into the chamber, the Conqueror's room. It was as he left it those few trine ago, but dust settled on every surface, the tables were scattered with little knives for woodworking, the piles of blankets and pillows stacked in the corner were a mess, there were wood shavings on the floor, and the many puppets and dolls on the shelves and tables were covered in cobwebs.
I set to dusting it off, and as I gently cleaned off each one I noticed an empty spot, a hook for a stringed-puppet was notably lacking its puppet, and that was when I noticed the finger prints in the dust around it.
Someone took a puppet, recently, and The Conqueror has been gone for trine now, which means somewhere in this castle is a thief…
I wonder, did my eyes deceive me? I look over the dolls that remain, fifteen skeksi puppets in an orderly row, fifteen, only fifteen. The empty spot should have held a skeksi, I am certain! But who was missing? Certainly not me, I see my little puppet there on the shelf, such a good craftsmen Conqueror is! The Conqueror! That is what puppet is missing! There it should sit, beside the miniature Emperor and General, but it is missing! But who? Who would steal from the mighty Conqueror? He was awfully tempermental, and lashed out over lesser things. Who would be so bold to risk such a fury?
I eye the marks in the dust, these clearly came from another Skeksi, not a gelfling or a podling, but surely all the lords were wise enough to not cross The Conqueror? And who could get in with the door locked? Who would have a key? How? How could anyone have a key?
But then it strikes me, and I say aloud to myself, “Mmm, Collector could have a key? Collector would take Conqueror's things. I will ask The Collector, see if they have a key, and take it when not looking.”
So I leave the chamber, and lock the door behind me. Down, down the hall, past many doors and many halls, until I find Collector’s chamber. I do not knock, I open the door and walk in, and am glad SkekLach is here.
“What do you want?” They sneer, looking up from a large box of trinkets, shutting it furiously before facing me.
“Friend… I need Collector’s help! Have much work! Work to prepare for Conqueror’s return! But I have lost the key! Key to his chamber! Do you have one? Help me? Please? Pleaseee? Mmmm? You help? Help me? Please?” I ask nicely as I can, leaning towards dear Collector, and they seem to consider my request. They look around their room, and I follow their eyes, over the many tables arranged with gold and silver and broken pieces of glass, the walls adorned with fabrics and clothes, the hooks with ropes and chains strewn across them, and my eyes catch on a large board with little hooks, and on them many keys.
SkekLach blows their nose into a handkerchief, and says in their nasally voice, “No, I can’t help you. I had a key, but it was stolen. Someone broke into my room and took my things!”
“Mmmm, Terrible! So mean, so sad, cruel to Collector! I will find the thief! Who could have done this? Who had a key to Collector’s room? Who?” I ask, now it is clear whoever took the key used it to rob Conqueror, double thievery!
“No one! I never let anyone in my room! My room is mine! Mine! Not for anyone else! My collection is mine! But I was still robbed, cruelly!” SkekLach wailed, and sent themself into a coughing fit.
But that was not true, SkekLach lets SkekOk in their room often. Perhaps, SkekOk took the key? But why? Why would Scrollkeeper take SkekLach’s things and Conqueror’s doll?
“Mmmm, I will find it. I will find the key and lost things, my friend.” And so I left SkekLach to their wheezing, and I walked down the hall to the library. As I walked, I heard SkekLi distantly playing music, and I felt a little jealous that I could not join him. I also heard the clamor of many servants hurrying around the castle to prepare for the feast tonight, and their rush reminded me of my urgent needs. If I did not find the doll, SkekGra would suspect I had taken the doll! Only I had the key, only I should have a key, at least.
I reached the library, and strode in, and weaved between the many shelves until I found the staircase upwards. Up, many, many flights. Endless stairs with endless shelves, until I reached the second floor, where SkekOk worked.
There were many tables, with scrolls and books and pages strewn across them, writing tools and inkpots and brushes too— and a little wooden doll, clothed with silver armor and cloth, the red stripes on its face glittered like blood. Beside it, sat a small black key just like the one I had.
SkekOk sat in a chair near it, bent over a book, with a paintbrush in his claws, claws that matched the prints in the dust, claws that had been in SkekLach’s room.
“Friend! Thief!” I cried, and he looked up in surprise, he had not heard me creeping up the stairs.
“Thief? I am no thief! From where do you get this unfounded accusation?” He looked hurt, and he set down his paintbrush and adjusted his glasses.
“You took Conqueror’s doll! You must return it, or he will blame me!” I strode over to the desk and snatched the little wooden puppet, and he tried to grab my hand and stop me.
“No! I must finish my illumination before he returns!” He cried, and I saw the book he was working on. On its large pages were drawings of the puppet, and paragraphs about The Conqueror.
“No time! He will return soon! I must finish cleaning the room! Must put the doll where it belongs!” And I took it anyways, and stole the key off the table, too, and he shouted after me, but I descended down the stairs and ignored him.
“No time!” I answered his angry yelling, and I darted out of the library and down the hall.
“SkekSil!” Scrollkeeper cried, but I just hurried faster. “SkekSil!” He cried again, but I had already passed SkekLach’s chamber and could see SkekGra’s chamber now.
“Give that back!” SkekOk cried louder now, he clearly was catching up. I ran towards the door fast as I could and fast as my robes allowed, I darted in and slammed it shut behind me, and locked it from the inside. I heard SkekOk scream angrily from the other side, and he banged on the door. I ignored his wailing, and set to finishing what I came here to do. I set the little wooden puppet in its proper place, and dusted off the others.
I swept up the wood shavings from the floor, I neatly arranged the pillows and folded the blankets, I organized the whittling knives on the desk, and eventually SkekOk’s crying faded away, and it was safe for me to leave.
I poked my head out, and saw no sign of the Scrollkeeper. I closed the door behind me and locked it with the thrice stolen key, and I slipped it into my pocket with no intent to return it to SkekLach.