The Puppethead War #1

Issue 2 > >

This series follows on from First Encounter, which you can access from the Puppethead Saga hub page.  Please enjoy and feel free to comment or criticise.

Amongst the charity buildings in the city's western quarter, Irena de Postrem awoke gasping for air. She called to her parents who arrived instantly at her side.

'I had the dream again,' she said. Around her, other sleeping figures groaned or growled at the family for waking them.

Irena's mother spoke softly. 'Did you do what the apothecary said? The herbs to help you sleep?'

'They don't do anything,' her father said, seeing Irena's expression in the dark and frowning. He hugged his daughter, rocking slowly as she sobbed into his woollen coat.

'Why won't it go away?' the girl said, coughing weakly.

'I can't fight them for you,' her father said. She stopped coughing and he held her out by the shoulders. 'You do know that it isn't real, don't you?'

Irena shook her head and tears scattered to both sides. Her father hugged her again.

'There is no such thing as this “underwater city”.' He forced a chuckle. 'And there aren't any lake monsters.'

***

Meanwhile, under the waters of the mountain lake, a man swum into a great submerged city. The place appeared to be writhing as various tentacular shapes glided through glowing doorways in the truly three-dimensional space, each following its own agenda.

Wearing an ancient buoyancy vest, mask and breather pilfered from the village of Yerz, the man approached a gigantic building engulfed by shadow. One of the startling shapes detached itself from the wall and lowered its head towards the nonplussed human, who then began to make noises that were only just audible in the watery gloom.

'Go ahead, look at me like that,' he said. 'Your little mistake nearly cost us the whole operation. The village folk are preparing themselves!'

The figure above him, still half obscured by a massive shadow, bent down in supplication.

'The child was too strong and too dumb for its own good. You know that it could have been worse. If a human escaped with one of us... well, they would certainly stand out on the landscape more.'

'The First didn't seem to mind, and he didn't even research his role, much like our recent dead failure,' said the man. Even in the muffled depths his tone of disappointment was apparent. 'I also went up of my own accord.'

The hidden figure sounded shocked. 'Not everyone is willing to do what you did.'

'Regardless,' snapped the man, 'we must stop using youths as our vanguard. Phase two begins now.'

***

'I was thrown from the boat,' Ferran stopped for dramatic effect. 'I could feel something pulling me down into the dark depths of the lake, when suddenly I woke up in chains, and a body that was not my own.'

The younger children on the floor of the town hall gasped.

'There were others nearby and the same had happened to them,' Ferran continued, 'but the nasty puppetheads had miscalculated. I knew I had to return to warn everyone, so I used all the strength I could and the shackles broke like paper!'

This time they exhaled together. As Ferran pretended to swim through the air, Talon entered the back doors and leaned on the wall. He seemed taller than Ferran recalled, perhaps because since turning fourteen he had been standing straighter.

'I reached the surface, but I couldn't enter the village in case there were other monsters...' the fishing teacher trailed off. 'That's all for today, kids!'

The children sighed despondently and began to disperse, while Ferran stood from his chair and walked towards Talon. The youth had noticed, over the week since their first encounter with the puppethead, that his teacher was moving generally slower than before. Maybe as a side effect of having been refused control over his body, the man was calculating every action carefully.

'Come to report on the voluntary screenings?' he said.

The young fisherman was surprised. 'You don't remember that Daiv's heading off with the riders today?'

Ferran looked puzzled for a moment and then a metaphorical light switched on. 'Yes, of course, the Floating Village.'

Talon's concern was palpable. 'Alright then,' he said. 'As long as you're feeling okay, we'll get out there and see them off.'

'Don't talk nonsense, boy,' Ferran said. 'Man, I mean. Just a brain snap.'

The two of them walked into the sunlight and towards the montiger kennels.

'So how are the screenings going?' said Ferran.

'Slowly. Everyone wants to get quizzed at once, but there are families who haven't come back from the markets yet.'

'You don't have any suspicions?'

'Well the Honch hasn't seen me since the incident.' The youth shrugged. 'From what he said it sounds like he knows something, but why would he bother to save us if he was working for the puppetheads?'

'This is a tangled mess, Talon,' Ferran said. 'We can only hope that the report from the Floating Village will be good news. One last thing; do you remember who it was that found my body that night?'

'Yes,' Talon said. 'It was Darrin. I think that maybe we should –'

Before he could finish speaking, they had come to the marshalling ground beside the kennel building. Four montiger riders including Daiv were packing up trail supplies for the trip around to the Floating Village.

'Almost ready to go,' Daiv said when he saw them approach. 'I wish you guys could come, it's going to be a boring ride.'

The two of the other riders looked at him with barely hidden disdain. The third was Darrin Sasket, who was old enough to remember when Ryndia had been a single country, and didn't pay the others any attention at all.

'These guys don't think I should go,' Daiv said in response to their glares. 'Apparently the Big Honch insisted that I join, since I was there when we got that puppethead out of you.'

'You know I would go with you in an instant,' Talon said, 'but someone needs to warn the Overarchy and we're the only ones with first hand evidence.'

Ferran lowered his voice. 'Do us a favour and keep an eye on Mr Sasket.' His tone of voice was deadly serious.

'Will do,' Daiv said without question. He swung himself into the saddle. 'See you guys in a week.'

The riding party departed, their mounts bounding effortlessly towards the north reaching road.

'I really want this feeling to be wrong,' said Talon.

Ferran raised the corner of his mouth. 'Ignore it for now and pack your things. We need to get going ourselves if we want to reach Arten tonight.'