Page 65 of Under the Iron Sky

The golem smiled up at her. At least, she thought it was a smile. Could golems smile? She’d been too busy running away from the last one she’d seen to really check.

No. What was she even thinking? Of course they didn’t smile. They were human-eating beasts. Just like this one would no doubt grow up to be if she didn’t end it now.

She brought her leg back again.

The golem’s eyes snapped to her foot. It looked at its own paw, the tiny pointed rocks that served as claws scratching against the floor, then began to shift, the red smoke that held its rocks together pulling its tiny body in on itself like a turtle receding into a shell. Some rocks moved, some fell away, and when it was finished, the thing that stood there would have been a vaguely human shape, had the rocks on his head not stayed in that lizard-like structure.

It examined its new chubby hands, flexed them, then placed one on the wall, dragging its left foot back, and smiled up at Soraya again.

What … the fuck was going on?

Frowning, Soraya dropped her arm and straightened. The golem watched, considered, then copied, the sound of the rocks that were its body sliding against one another filling the quiet space.

“Stop that!” Soraya hissed, which the creature again tried to imitate, although it came out more of a growl. Oh great, she was talking to a pile of rocks.

The golem stared blankly up at her, the glowing red flames of its eyes going out and then relighting as it slowly blinked, tilting its head in genuine curiosity, before it clenched its fists and started to vibrate like a bomb about to combust. Soraya had never heard of golems doing such a thing, but that didn’t stop her from taking several measured steps away.

Just when Soraya thought it was surely going to explode, a flower popped up between the cracks on the top of its skull. It patted its head, seeming to search for the thing, but its arms weren’t quite long enough.

She couldn’t help but feel a little bad for it.

“No help,” the creature said suddenly. It was a male voice, gravelly like one would expect from a creature made of stone, but there was an almost childlike quality. “Golla do.”

“I wasn’t going to help you,” she snapped, taking another step back. It was foolish to stand close to this thing. Everything down here had fangs and claws and the desire to tear her in two.

Although that seemed to be the last thing on his mind right now, she thought, watching him pat the top of his head repeatedly in search of the flower.

“Is that your name? Golla?”

“Yes.” Finally, he managed to pluck the thing off his head. He turned, the small rocks around his mouth shifting into a smile that seemed too big for his small head, and stretched onto the tips of his toes, offering it to Soraya.

She took it, because she didn’t really know what else to do. And he wouldn’t stop smiling at her.

It was tiny, the largest petals barely bigger than her thumbnail, tear-shaped and deep purple with black edges as though they’d been held over an open flame, and had a cluster of blood-colored berries beneath each petal—identical to the ones from her breakfast tray this morning.

Her eyes snapped to the creature. “You make my meals?”

An enthusiastic nod.

Ah. Well, at least that explained the occasional pebble in her food.

“Why?” It was all she could think to say. Why the meals? Why the flowers? Why was he talking to her right now? Any of it.

“Human world had lots before. Golla watch human in walls sometimes. Human always sad. Flower make her not sad anymore.”

The words, so simple, burned Soraya’s eyes. She blinked, and had just opened her mouth—to say what, she wasn’t quite sure—when a ceramic crashing sound echoed from below her window.

Two sets of laughter followed.

One was clearly a man, his voice deep and gravelly, while the other was much lighter and breathier, almost … airy.

Keeping one eye on the golem, Soraya crept toward the window, careful to keep out of sight, and peered down at the courtyard below.

She couldn’t see whoever was outside from this angle, but she could hear them just fine.

“You all right, Mel?” the man asked.

“I think so?” Emelda replied. “Have you seen my shoe? I could have sworn …” Her voice drifted off, although Soraya couldn’t be sure that was exactly what she said given how much she was slurring. Was she drunk?