Given few other options, Hat Kid had little choice but to follow Moonjumper. The ghost took her by the hand and the air around her seemed the change from its usual stillness to an active force. She felt it tug at her body, levitating her as he gently led the way across the canyon. She tightened her grip in a moment's panic, but then her reservations were put on hold as a smile crept its way onto her face beyond her control. The sensation of flight was exhilarating: Of course, she'd sailed around in her ship plenty, but this another experience entirely.
The two moved across the sky as if they were weightless, and the child tried to get a good look of the area before they landed—mapping it in her head. There was no gradual transition from the barren waste to the iridescent forest, the borders between the two distinct. Beyond those borders, the woodlands themselves stretched off into the distance, flowing into the town and strange, distant landscapes that blurred along the skyline. Passing over the marble buildings, Hat Kid could make out the shapes of Dwellers below—the red ones being the most common with a few others here or there, all carrying on their way.
Unfortunately, her view of the village was confined only to its outskirts as Moonjumper pulled her along in the direction of the castle. Gliding down to a low balcony, he helped steady her as the air changed once more. It cut off and she landed on her feet with a slight bounce before letting out another cough. Moonjumper then motioned for her to follow him and floated inside.
Hat Kid paused to get a sense for her new surroundings first. Peeping around the wide, arched entryway, side-stepping a thin sheet of curtains to glance down a long hall, one of the first things she noticed was how empty it seemed. It was a remarkable building—walls perfectly smooth, the floor decorated with alternating patterns in the stonework, and the ceiling a canopy of lapis lazuli that seemed to reflect the stars with its sporadic gold flecks in an ocean of blue—but thus far there wasn't much beyond that. Other than the curtains, there was only a foyer table with a vase a trio of the realm's glowing flowers set within it to decorate the space. The only lighting came from the flowers themselves and the light pouring from the world outside, casting the hall in a dim glow. It gave a place a lonely, somewhat impersonal feel.
Moonjumper's coat stood out against the castle's soft colors. She caught up to him before he turned a corner and faded through a sealed twin set of doors. When she entered, she was glad to see that this place—if only slightly—had a bit more of a homey touch. It was a dining room with a wide window, furnished by only the long table, a large set of chairs, and a china cabinet. Nevertheless, the window had an impressive view of the mountainside and the cabinet was filled with an assortment of dishes and teacups.
"There's still plenty of time," he murmured, casting the girl a sidelong glance as she let out another small cough, "I'm guessing you like sweets, yes? What about tea?"
She went with her standard, "Do you have any cookies?"
He gave her a faint nod, then, opening the cabinet, he waved a finger at the china. Hat Kid raised a confused brow until she watched with shock as some of the tableware rattled and clanked inside. A small tea set flew out of it on its own, darting past Moonjumper and swirling around her before going through an open entryway on the opposite side of the room. The tea cup was the last to go out, tapping against the edge of the wall and fidgeting as though it were in a confused daze before following the rest once more.
Hat Kid giggled, a sparkle in her eyes as she asked with childish wonder, "Are they magic?"
Counter to this, the ghost explained in a calm, state-of-fact way, "'Possessed' would be closer to the truth. They're inanimates, a type of infantile spirit." As Hat Kid helped herself into a nearby chair, he hovered into the place next to her at the end of the table. "It's rare, but when items have seen a lot of care or have been used for a very long time by their owners, they can take on a life of their own. They don't understand much beyond how they're treated or their original purpose, but they can still be helpful."
"Can anything turn into one?" She imagined some of her older toys coming to life. It was the kind of thing a lot of children dreamed and Rumbi would have a playmate when she was off-ship.
"Yes, although it happens to some things more than others: Dolls, kettles, clocks," he gave her a pointed glance, "umbrellas…"
She winced a bit, hugging her own little, blue umbrella to her chest. That sounded less fun… If it ever came to life, she doubted it would appreciate being used as a weapon. She hoped he was joking.
It was hard to tell if he really was, but he chuffed, amused by her reaction, all the same. At that time, a small plate returned with a trio of cookies followed by a porcelain jampot, both sliding in place in front of her along the table's surface. She didn't know what spirit food was supposed to look like, but it didn't seem any different than ordinary food. They were the strangest looking cookies she'd seen though, a little puffed up, almost like bread, but harder. They looked kind of like sugar cookies, but with a more golden hue.
She took off her mask to make it easier to eat. Taking a bite, she was relieved that her headache and sniffling went away almost immediately. The taste was fine, but she found she liked them much better with the jam. The young alien looked back toward the doorway as the teapot and cups soon followed—with little, bowl-like saucers so she'd be less likely to spill anything. It looked like the dining room connected directly to the kitchen, but when she tried stretching her neck to get a better look, she didn't see anyone inside. Did the inanimates do everything by themselves? If not, then why hadn't she seen any staff yet?
Her curious thoughts were set aside as the tea made a show of pouring itself in front of her. Shuffling on her knees in her seat to reach for the cup, she blew on it before taking a deep gulp. Hat Kid didn't really like it much—at least this kind wasn't sweet enough—but the warm liquid felt good to her throat and helped subside the chill that never quite left her when she was in the Alpine Skylines.
The teapot tried to pour for Moonjumper as well, but he placed a hand over the cup and it swiftly withdrew, setting itself down between them. After a moment's pause, he said, "I'm impressed that you made it down here. A few of my subjects spotted you when you arrived. I had them follow you as a precaution, but most of them are terribly shy. If I can't find someone to escort you back to the Twilight Bell when the time comes, I'll go with you myself."
Hat Kid looked at him in surprise and swallowed before asking, "You knew I was coming?" Then she remembered the red Dwellers. Was he talking about them? The idea of being watched like that was more than a little discomforting, but she could guess some of his reasons. At least he was open about it.
"I have eyes everywhere. All types of souls and spirits pass through, so it's best to stay vigilant." His tone turned inquiring, "As I mentioned before though, your kind—the living—are rare visitors... What brought you here?"
Hat Kid gave herself time to consider how she answered by finishing off the cookie in her hand and taking another large gulp of her drink. Although she was grateful for Moonjumper's help and he seemed friendly, she still didn't really know him. It didn't help either that the mask made it nearly impossible to read him. He didn't carry himself with the Dweller's meek air or the Badge Seller's cryptic wisdom, but with a firm control over his own person that was almost creepy. How much could she say?
The ghost rose from his seat to glide over to the window. When she hesitated to reply, he pressed further with his usual calm, "Could it be that you were looking for something?" His back turned, she didn't see what he had at first as he drew something from his coat. "Were you looking for this?"
She almost choked when he then looked back around and showed off a Time Piece shimmering within his hand. He didn't react, but she got the feeling that he flashed a true, knowing smile behind his mask. Pushing herself up to lean over the table, she fumbled with her words, "That's…! Yeah, that's mine…"
Was he toying with her? He knew what she came here for, had brought he into his territory, and had all of the pieces on his side of the board, but had waited until now before saying anything. What did he want?
Moonjumper stared at her for a moment, then examined the hourglass with a small twist of his hand, "This is quite the treasure you have. A powerful relic for someone so young." Floating back toward the table, facing her from the opposite side, he set it down with his hand still on top of it—about half a meter out of her reach. "Spirits have been gathering them through every waypoint, fighting over them. It's caused a lot of problems here."
Eying the Time Piece, she winced. If that was the case, then she was lucky that time rifts and other anomalies hadn't been spawning all over the place. It also confirmed some of her suspicions, that there were others lost here. Hat Kid forced herself to settle back down in her chair, biting her lip as she struggled with what to say next.
Her stomach spoke for her, gurgling loudly. It seemed to take even Moonjumper aback as he tilted his head at the noise. "Do you need something else to eat?" he offered.
"I brought my own dinner," she replied hurriedly, breaking eye contact and shuffling off her backpack to rummage through its contents. Embarrassed, snapped out of the tension of the previous moment, she didn't even ask as she dug out her lunchbox and set it on the table. Opening it, she spotted the extra juice box and cookies she'd brought along. Maybe she could use them as a kind of peace offering—to get Moonjumper to open up a bit more and make it easier to persuade him to hand over the Time Piece.
Since he'd shared his food with her, it also didn't hurt to return the favor. The young alien drew both out, setting the cookies on a clean plate and scooting the juice box across the table as far as her arm could reach. "Try some, it's tropical punch. And my friend Cooking Cat made these."
The phantom just stared back. A few seconds passed as Hat Kid busied herself with her sandwich, watching him from behind her lunchbox with a subtle, upward gaze. Soon enough, he picked the juice up in his free hand and looked it over curiously. He seemed to read the back of it before setting it back down and uttering a soft, "Thank you…"
Well… that didn't go exactly as she hoped. Not wanting to reenter another tense period, she cleared her throat and pressed him for answers this time. "I don't mean any trouble. You said that spirits took some of my Time Pieces, right? I just need to get them all back and then I'll leave."
"These aren't toys, child. They could be as dangerous in your hands as much as they are in the spirits'," he glided back into his seat, "Besides, I can't spare the manpower to go search for them. The Horizon is a big place and my subjects are few."
She pouted at his first declaration. She knew they were dangerous: That's why she was trying so hard to get them back. She had a duty to guard them. A determined gleam filled her eyes next. "I can look for them myself, so you wouldn't even have to do anything," when he continued to stare hard at her, she pushed further, "Maybe I lost them at first, but I know what I'm doing. I've even fought spirits before."
"You?" he questioned in humored disbelief.
Hat Kid puffed up a bit, "Ghosts anyway… In Subcon Forest."
Again, he fell silent, but the way his shoulders went rigid told her that she'd gotten to him. The haunted place was pretty famous on this planet, so it made sense that people would know about it here too. Eventually, he shook his head to himself, then looked back at her with a long sigh, "You must be very brave for a little girl. And I do need someone to take the Time Pieces from the spirits…"
"Right? So we can help each other!" Now that he'd given her words some consideration, she wouldn't let up. She shifted in her seat to better face him, hands clenched in front of her with enthusiasm, "Just point the way and I can get the Time Pieces, then they won't be a problem anymore. You won't even have to do anything."
He thought her offer over, his fingers briefly and silently tapping on the table's surface. In her mind, what was there to think about? If he didn't want the Time Pieces—which, admittedly, was a first for someone who knew exactly what they were capable of—then he had nothing to lose. Still unable to read him, she tried to put on her own poker face, taking another hearty bite of her food as she waited.
At last, Moonjumper slowly answered, "Alright then. You can look around, but on one condition: For as long as you're here, when you're not on your rounds, you'll stay in the village. Facing the ether is one issue. It's also easy to get lost if you stray too far and I can't always have someone escort you to a waypoint either."
Although he didn't say it, she imagined it'd be a way for him to keep an eye on her better too. Hat Kid didn't bring it up, instead questioning, "You keep talking about 'waypoints': What are they?"
"They're the Horizon's only connection to the physical world," he explained, "Some spiritual realms exist within it as distorted blips in reality, like those for spirits heavily connected to nature. The Horizon, however, can only be accessed at specific locations scattered across the mortal plane. The Twilight Bell, where you entered, is one such waypoint."
The child nodded in understanding, then glanced down at her nearly finished meal. "Ok… but I need to go back, at least for now. I didn't pack enough and my friend's waiting for me."
Once more, Moonjumper rose from his seat, "We'll see to it that you're looked after, but I understand. I'll call for someone to send you off now and when you come back tomorrow, they'll help guide your way back."
"I don't know if I can make it back easily," she admitted with a sheepish expression, "The people at the Alpine Skyline didn't want me to come here again. If they found out I did, they might try harder to stop me."
He gave her a casual, pacifying wave of his hand, "Then I can have someone come get you. It's not a problem." Looking over the Time Piece in a second's delay, he brushed it over to her side, "I'll trust this one to you for now. Stay here: I'll be back soon."
Hat Kid eagerly scooped the hourglass into her hands, then watched as he passed through the same door they'd entered. Left alone with her thoughts, she quickly noticed how quiet everything was. There was no sound of anyone waltzing through the hall or any bustle from the outside world. She'd heard of the phrase 'silent as the grave,' but even Subcon's gloom felt more active than this. The silence quickly got on her nerves. She tried to keep still—finishing her food and then packing away her belongings, swinging her legs from the edge of her seat—and in the end had to get up and move around.
First, she checked the kitchen. She confirmed no one was inside and—much like everything else—it was polished and sparse. It had every necessity, but not much was laid out beyond a few pans hung neatly on a rack above the oven and large jars set in formation along the counters. There was also a push cart off the one side by the door, ready for use although she felt it didn't see much of it.
She looked back behind her in time to see the chinaware rise again, all save for the plate of chocolate chip cookies Moonjumper hadn't touched. The dirty ones hovered past her and into the kitchen sink, awaiting cleaning, while the unused cup and saucer returned itself to the cabinet. She watched the them before moving to the window next.
Unfortunately, she still couldn't see much of the town. The view wasn't at the right angle, so the most she could make out were the tiled rooftops of some of the buildings. A flicker of green caught her eye in the other direction and the child squinted in order to make out the transparent, ghostly figure sitting on a boulder at the end of a wipe slope. When she made it out, she pursed her lips in dismay. It was a Dweller Crow.
Why aren't you in bird purgatory…? Were they there just to torture mortal souls hanging around in limbo? She got the feeling that, much like their living counterparts, they'd make it their job to torment her anyway. Nevertheless, Hat Kid guessed that they wouldn't be the worst things she'd encounter in the Horizon.
Something else caught her attention in the distance, and she nearly recoiled when she saw it. She thought she saw the figure of a woman with a blue cloche hat, her back turned and a pale-yellow scarf partially hiding some of her features. Before she knew it, the child stood centimeters from the glass, desperately trying to make out the person standing there. The woman was farther than the bird though, and gradually became harder to distinguish as she walked away.
Hat Kid didn't know how long she watched her for, but Moonjumper soon came back to let her know it was time to leave. When she'd given once last glance back, the figure was already gone.
