The leg of the automaton required quite a bit of patching up, as dangling on the shingle of a bar wasn't too healthy for it – although one might just as readily comment that the thing getting itself torn apart and scattered probably wasn't too healthy either.

Regardless, an almost perfect Khatta creature lies on Kia's worktable; it lacks only a left leg now. Help in repairing the creature has come from an unlikely source… namely a young jaguar cub who has taken to spending many of his spare afternoons in the Skeek's shop and filling her ears with questions about the workings of the various machines and devices littering the shop. Enos has been a useful helper, although he doesn't know much about the work. He does know enough to stay out of Kia's way.

Currently the cub is sweeping the floor in the workshop after feeding the vermite. It's close to closing time and he's picked out a few chores in the shop to help pay his "debt" to the mouse. Work has been slow today and an air of general sluggishness seems to fill the Bazaar as many of the merchants have resumed side projects again. Some of them (as evidenced by the odd odor emanating from Binter's) are probably better left hidden.

Wrinkling her nose at the scent from Binter's, Kia moves to shutter the windows in preparation for closing, starting with those on the east side of her shop. She keeps her ears perked for sounds from the cub upstairs, but spares him any further warnings about the machines, gadgets, and breakables scattered about in her workroom.

"I'm almost finished with the floors, Miss Kia. Can I dust the tables next?" Enos calls out from upstairs.

They'll just get dusty again, the mouse thinks reflexively. But she calls out, "All right, Enos. Leave the one in back – nearest the pantry – alone. I've got a lot of little pieces on it."

"Yes ma'am!" the kitten barks out. Swishing noises can be heard and the sunlight filtering down the stairwell fills with dust motes.

Outside, Shingle and his cart trundle past as the Kavi makes his rounds. He pinches his nose at the smell outside.

The shopkeeper rubs her nose at the cloud of dust, and moves to the doorway to half-close the curtains she's put up before it. She smiles as the junk dealer passes, and waves to him. "G'd evening, Shingle! Done with your rounds for the day?"

The Kavi waves back to the mouse, a floppy hat that looksmuch too large for him obscures his eyes somewhat. "That I am, Missus Kia. Looks like yer closin' up as well. Be sure and shut the shop up tight this evening." He jerks his head towards Binter's and pinches his nose.

Still smiling as she draws the curtains level with the door frame, Kia steps around the door and outside, taking a stride or two to reach the Kavi. "Do you, ah, know what he's up to in there?" she asks Shingle softly, with a glance to the Rhian's shack.

Shingle sets his cart down and pulls his hat up. "Could be trying to make a Gooshurm casserole, for all I know." He sniffs at the air. "Smells like burnt bugs."

"Perhaps he's trying to attract an Eeee clientele," the Skeek offers diplomatically. She wipes her hands on her apron, then gives Shingle's cart a once-over. "Anything new for me?"

The Kavi's face lights up. "Lessee here … anything in particular yer looking for?" He digs a hand around in the broken bits of wood. "I have a broken Kujaku Clock that some Rath'ani threw out today … or bits of it at least. I think there's a flute someone snapped in two as well."

With a shake of her head, Kia answers, "I don't think I need any more bits of clocks. I've already got the remains of probably a half dozen that a Korv brought me, near the beginning of the year. I'm trying to rebuild a few out of them, but it's tedious work just sorting out the pieces. What's the flute look like?"

Shingle dives into his cart. His backside and tail flail about for a moment as he digs around. He grunts and curses as he searches around until he finally pulls out two sticks of chitin and ceramic.

Kia accepts the proffered pieces with a soft, "Thank you," and inspects them with a professional eye, appraising the quality of the original piece as well as the extent of the damage – and the likelihood of restoring it to full functionality.

It's a mid-grade flute, not something a professional musician might carry, but something that a casual player might keep in her house. It's a clean snap and might be repairable, but the sound quality could suffer if the work wasn't done juuuust right.

"Nothing else except some broken chairs. A fat Rhian sat a little too hard on a stool in Little Babel … haw!" Shingle brushes off his clothing. "Anything I should keep an eye open for ya? I've not seen any more of those blue gears."

She blows over the mouthpiece for a moment, shaking her head. "Wind instruments are almost never the same after being broken," Kia says sadly.

The flute sighs, like the broken voice of a once beautiful performer gone to dust.

Rotating the remains of the instrument in her fingers, the mouse studies them for a few more moments, then glances back to the junk dealer. "What were you looking to get for it?" she asks.

Shingle rubs his nose. "A fiver maybe? It's really not good for parts."

"No, it's not," the Skeek agrees. "You could maybe make candle holders of them, though," she adds with another smile, standing one piece on its smooth end against her palm. "For thin candles." She offers the pieces back to Shingle.

The Kavi laughs. "Candle holders, eh? The wife might like that, if the pups don't burn the place down with them." He chuckles and takes the flute pieces back.

The Skeek grins, too. "Could be quite a fire hazard that way. Have to mount them in a lump of clay or something … of course, then you could just use the clay for a candle holder… " She looks towards the setting sun. "I'd better finish closing up shop, and make sure that cub's not found any trouble. I hope you've had a good day's sales, Shingle!"

"You as well Missus Kia." The Kavi arches an eyebrow. "Cub?"

Kia nods, stepping back towards her shop. "My self-appointed little helper, Enos," she tells him, pushing the shop door open.

The Kavi shrugs and takes up his wagon again, pulling his load down the road and making a point of steering clear from Binter's Shack.

Upstairs, the dust has cleared a bit, and the giggle of a delighted jaguar cub can be heard, followed by some clicking noises, and another flurry of laughter.

Flipping the "Closed" sign on the door knob as she shuts it behind her, Kia half-smiles at the laughter from the workshop. "Did you get the vermite out of its cage, Enos?" she asks, projecting her voice as she draws the curtains together, and lights a candle before she finishes shuttering the remaining windows on the first floor.

"No ma'am," Enos replies. "I was just playing with your funny walkie-stick. I hope you don't mind?"

Another click echoes from upstairs followed by another peal of laughter.

She pauses with a shutter in hand, puzzlement briefly furrowing her brow, then pulls the last one shut and latches it in place before calling back, "Don't touch it right now, Enos. I'll be up in a moment … Would you show me what you're doing with it when I do?" Her tone is carefully neutral.

The cub squeaks and the clicking stops. "Yes ma'am. I didn't break anything, did I?"

The mouse walks briskly to the staircase and hikes up her skirt as she ascends. "I doubt it, Enos," she calls back, then turns the corner in the stairs and continues in a normal tone of voice. "But that artifact is from the College Esoterica, and I don't really know that it's safe. You shouldn't play with things without asking," she adds, her tone informative, not scolding.

"Sorry," the cub folds his hands behind his back. "There's just so much neat stuff here." He points to a long cane on the desk, which currently sports a handle at one end like a fancy walking stick. "I just bumped it and it changed, so I bumped it again and it turned into a horn. The buttons were too shiny I guess." He flicks his tail, rattling the little Vartan trinkets tied to it.

The shopkeeper suppresses a smile at the tinkling of Enos's shiny collection. "That's fine, Enos," she replies. "You just need to remember for next time. Now, which buttons were you pushing on it, and what did they do? Just show me; don't push them for now," Kia adds.

The cub peeks his head over the side of the table. He points to a series of six bright stones that ring the neck of the pole. "Well, the green one turned it into an umbrella. The wood one made it turn into a walking stick, and the blue one made it go all limp and floppy like a worm. I dunno what the other ones did."

The mouse's face screws up as she inspects the gleaming buttons on the curious device. After a moment's hesitation, she presses the blue button on it.

The handle POPS back in and the stick suddenly becomes limp and segmented, a bit like a Naga toy that cubs play with from time to time.

Enos suppresses a giggle.

"Mmmph." Kia twitches her whiskers, and presses the button again, watching carefully for any additional changes on it.

The button seems depressed all the way as it is. It doesn't pop out or move in any deeper at Kia's probing.

After giving the subject another moment of consideration, she tries the wood button, trying to see if she can discern the stages of the transformation from walking stick to snake-thing.

Sprang! Clack! The stick goes rigid and a crooked handle telescopes out from the neck.

The mouse runs a finger down the length of the stick, feeling for the joints displayed moments before in its previous shape.

The surface feels perfectly smooth. It also feels like a solid pole of metal under the mouse's expert touch.

Kia taps her fingers against the table, and shakes her head, ears flicking back in an expression of discomfort. She wraps the fingers of her left hand around the apparently smooth pole, and presses the wood button again with her right.

The jaguar cub flinches back as though he expects the poleto leap to life and bite someone … but it remains just a solid walking stick in Kia's hand. The button remains pressed in and doesn't push in any further.

"All right," she murmurs under her breath, and pushes the blue.

Another click, and the pole goes limp again. It clicks open into several dozen segments of solid metal linked by joints. The end of the odd appendage waves lazily in the mouse's grip.

Whiskers still twitching, Kia starts to lift the floppy thing to eye level, then pauses, studying the way it waves, and the way it feels beneath her hand, to determine if it's powering its own motion, or simply moving in response to her actions.

The movement increases as Kia wiggles the device. Much like a Naga toy, it seems to amplify vibrations and use them to make the segments sway as though alive, but the blue snake doesn't appear to be moving on its own.

"Hmph." The mouse brings it to eye level, then places her right hand near the ring of buttons. She presses the wood button while keeping a close eye on one of the links, trying to sort out a non-magical explanation for the phenomenon. When it's solid again, she presses the blue button, alternating between the two forms as she ponders the device.

It doesn't seem to be possible … or the clockwork is akin to a master's handling. The transformation is lightning fast, but as Kia watches it over and over again she slowly starts to catch some telltale signs of metal flaps curling over the open gaps when the pole is limp, and some hints of a very, very tight seam when the pole is solid. The metal heats up slightly as it moves from one form to another.

As the transformations repeat, Kia's puzzled look comes to carry a hint of wonder in it, and she starts to smile, almost in spite of herself, at the precision of the device's movements. She rests her hip against the table, half-sitting against it, while she studies the length of the item, trying to discern how it was put together … and how it might be taken apart.

That appears to be a mystery. The seams are tighter than Kia's ever seen before – probably crafted by a very well trained Earth Mage with some mechanical leanings. Still, there is a certain air of magic to the device. Something so narrow shouldn't be able to hold as much as it does.

With the device in its walking-stick mode, the mouse lets it slide through her hands, the tip coming to a rest on the ground while her fingers curl over its handle, and she leans on it a little. "I ought to have an Earth Mage look at you," she tells it, then smiles to the jaguar cub. "I'm not quite sure if this is a toy or not, Enos. What do you think?"

"Can you turn it into something else?" The cub cocks his head sideways, his tail eagerly switching back and forth.

The cane is a bit too tall for the mouse, but sturdy nonetheless.

"I expect so." She places it on the table again, and, after motioning the cub backwards, presses the clear button.

Click The handle shoots back into the walking stick, and two large protrusions jut out from either side near the neck while a crystal pops out at the bottom of the pole. The pole now looks like a monstrous version of a music box key!

Kia blinks several times at the new appearance, jarringly reminded of the Titanian music-player she saw at "The Wooden Leg," and the massive key used to wind it.

Enos howls with glee, clapping his hands. "It looks like a long necked butterfly!"

The mouse starts to heft the massive key to her shoulder, then stops. She presses the wooden button again, then walks with it towards the work bench with the robot on it. After rolling the inert robot over, she indents the clear button again, then levers the key up and tries to match it to a slot at the base of the android's "spine".

The fit is perfect. As Kia presses the key into the hole, she feels a slight tug on it … as though the automaton were helping the mouse pull the key in.

With a pleased squeak, the shopkeeper settles the key firmly into place, then positions her hands to wind it. "Enos, would you give me a hand with this, please?" she asks, tailtip swishing with suppressed excitement.

"Yes ma'am!" Enos grins and rushes to Kia's side. He grasps the other half of the key and stands opposite the mouse. "On your word."

"All right, turn!" Kia shares the cub's grin as she cranks away at her end, then swaps her side of the key for his after winding it 180 degrees, and continues.

The key turns with a bit of effort and the metal warms in Kia's hands as it moves, almost as though heat were radiating inside the automaton from the movement. After a couple of turns, it locks into place and the whole contraption starts to vibrate.

"Enough," the mouse says with a nod to Enos, taking hold of his hand and starting to pull him backwards. Before she retreats herself, however, she presses the blue button on the key, then takes several steps away, watching the feline contraption closely.

The key clicks and forms the segmented tail of the robotic Khatta, except instead of going limp, it sticks straight out. Nothing happens for the longest time and the vibrations die down to a soft whirr. Then a hand moves, and an ear twitches, and a foot (it only has one at the moment) wiggles.

"Good morning," a muffled and tinny sounding voice grates out from the thing's face… which is currently pressed up against the table as it lies on its stomach. "Awfully dark for morning… "

Enos squeaks and clings to the mouse's hand a bit tighter.

Kia emits another squeak herself, and returns Enos's squeeze with a touch of nervousness. She giggles almost involuntarily at the device's speech, then clears her throat. "Ah … Good evening," she tells it. She pats Enos's hand reassuringly, then releases it to take a step towards the automaton, approaching with caution.

"Good … evening? Are you sure it isn't nighttime? It appears to be awfully dark." A blue hand twitches again and presses against the wood of the table. "Oh my! I see the problem. I appear to be on some sort of slab. A very clean one at that."

"It's nearly night time," she informs the robot, her whiskers twitching as she advances to its side. "But yes, you can't see because your face is against the table. Here, let me help." The mouse gingerly places her hands on its shoulders, and starts to roll it onto its side. "You're also missing a leg," she advises it, "in case you were wondering."

The clockwork Khatta presses against the table and rolls up in a seated position. The wires extending from its muzzle fan out and the triangular ears rotate forward. Its painted eyes focus on the empty leg socket. "So I am. Oh bother … walking won't be easy now." Its head rotates to look at the mouse. "But where are my manners? Good afternoon Miss Mouse, I am Azul. What sort of mage are you?"

The Skeek tilts her head as she watches the curious creation. "Pleased to finally meet you, Azul," she replies. "I'm Kia, and this," she gestures to the cub, "is Enos. I'm not any sort of mage, I'm afraid, nor is he."

Azul's eyes click closed as he tries to bow to the cub and almost slips off the table. "It is a pleasure meeting you, Miss Kia. But … if you are not a mage, then why did you awaken me?"

Enos manages a half-hearted wave; his eyes are wide as saucers.

The mouse's eyes flick towards Enos, as if to say "good question." She turns back to Azul. "Well, mostly to see what you did. Do. Are. Er, something like that," she admits. "Parts of you were stolen from storage at the old College Esoterica campus, and the rest of you was more or less bequeathed to me by a chaos mage. What are you?"

The mechanical cat links his hands together and its mouth briefly closes, forming a natural smile sculpted into its features. "I am an experiment in creating an artificial spirit – under controlled conditions, lest unsavory things happen, of course." Its eyes click open and shut.

The jaguar cub makes a growl. "My daddy used to fight bad spirits."

Kia opens her mouth to form a silent "Oh." "What sorts of 'controlled conditions' would these be?" she asks with apparent casualness. She shifts to position herself, incidentally, between the cub and the automaton.

Azul adjusts his bow tie. "Well, I draw power from my key and my inner workings instead of from other living beings … and when my key finishes turning, I go dormant. I assure you, I'm not one of those dreadful vampire things, as similar as our tastes in dress may be." He chuckles lightly.

The mouse peers surreptitiously around the robot, to look at his tail and see if it's still turning. "How long does one winding last you?"

"It depends on my activity level and the amount of magic in an area. Sitting like this, I may stay active for several hours without needing to be wound again." Its tail flicks slightly, but the Skeek catches a glimmer of movement as it rotates slowly. "Of course, if you have no tasks for me to do, I can go dormant at your order. Otherwise I am at your humble service." It tries to bow again and once again almost tumbles off the table.

Putting a hand forward to steady the robot, the mouse cautions, "Careful there! You'll probably find life a bit easier if I ever find your other leg," she muses, then contemplates the automaton again. "I don't know that I have any tasks for you just yet, but I do have some questions. Why did you think I would only wind you up if I was a mage? What did the mages use you for?"

"Well, a mage always wound me up before. Usually the ones in white robes." Azul strokes its chin. "At first they were perfecting my workings. They formed my personality and allowed me to have a form I could manipulate. After that, they made a few cosmetic changes, then brought me out to show me off, then to clean and do work, and after that just to dust me off and make sure I worked." Its ears rotate at crooked angles. "I am a completed experiment."

"And then they threw you away," the mouse murmurs softly, stroking her chin with one hand while she studies Azul. "Did they ever tell you why they weren't using you to do work any more?"

"Well, I'm not very strong," the automaton confesses. "And I tended to go dormant in the middle of chores. They apparently didn't like my music either." An indignant sounding 'harrumph' grates out from the gears in its throat.

"You … ah … play music?" she queries hesitantly.

Azul nods, forming that dolphin grin again. "Yes, I have my own trumpet. It was so I could announce people at gatherings, but I'd shut down in the middle of a party before all the guests arrived." It folds its arms. "Chaos mages always tended to be late at social gatherings."

Kia nods again. "I suppose they would." The Skeek continues to watch the mechanical Khatta, her head still canted as she considers it. "And what do you like to do?" she asks at length.

Enos continues to peer across the mouse's shoulder at the odd contraption.

"What do I like to do? Well … um." It fidgets with its fingers. "I play a rousing game of cards, and I can cook and clean. I've no hobbies per se, really."

Mouse whiskers twitch. "I guess giving you hobbies wasn't on their list of adjustments to make," Kia murmurs. She flicks her ears about, then smiles. "I know something you might be able to help me with!"

"I can dance as well … but … um… " Azul looks down at its missing leg and then brightens. Its wire whiskers fan forwards and its ears softly rotate towards the mouse. "I am your humble servant, Madame."

The Skeek leans forward and taps Azul on the nose with one finger. "Good! Then you can help me figure out how you were made," she says with satisfaction, her smile making her nose crinkle on one side, as she offers a conspiratorial wink.