Mally the Maker and the Queen in the Quilt

by Leah Day

  “Well, just in case.” Menda gripped the silver handle and pulled the tool out of the frame, then stabbed it back inside. She shoved the blade viciously through the cloth, ripping a gash at least four feet long. Mally felt the rip split through her skull. The light in the door began to flash on, off, on, off.

  “What are you doing? Stop! Stop it!” Mally gripped her head. “No! I can’t think!” The crown continued to spin, but the pain lessened to a dull throb.

  “Mally? Mally!” Voices called out of the darkness. Mally shook her head, confused. Menda was speaking as if she hadn’t heard her.

  “You stole something from me, Mally. Something very, very special to me.” The witch’s voice was thick with tears as her head rotated in a freakish angle, looking up to the sky, then down to the ground. Then her emotions flipped yet again and she snarled. “So I’ve stolen something from you!”

  She skittered back from the Open Door to a strange shape crumpled on the top step. The light from the door flashed on and off and with each blink of light, the figure slowly came into focus.

  Flash! Wrinkled hands gripping the fabric.

  Flash! White hair twisting in the wind.

  Flash! A red jacket quilted with white thread in a diamond pattern.

  Flash! Wide blue eyes ringed with thick glasses.

  Flash! The face Mally had been searching for all this time.

  “Grandma!” Mally shouted.

  Chapter 14 - The Queen’s Regent

  Mally jumped for the steps, but strong hands were gripping her shoulders, holding her back. She turned her head from side to side, but nothing was there.

  “Let go of me! Grandma!” Mally yelled.

  “Mally! Wake up!”

  “You have to wake up!”

  The voices were shouting now. Mally’s body shook from side to side as if invisible hands were shaking her shoulders. She forced her way up the courthouse steps one at a time and reached out to grip Grandma’s hand.

  But something was wrong. Mally couldn’t feel the soft fabric under her bare feet. She lunged, reaching for Grandma’s arm, but her hand passed through her jacket as if she were made of smoke.

  “Grandma! What’s happening?” she cried, her hands clawing uselessly in the air. Dimly she heard Menda laughing.

  “This is pretty simple, Mally May. I have what you want. You have what I want. I propose a trade.” She turned and hauled Grandma up by the arm. The older woman struggled, and Mally screamed as the light from the open door flickered off, plunging them into darkness.

  “Mally, please wake up!”

  “Come on, little Maker, open your eyes!”

  Mally ignored the voices as the light from the door blinked back on and glinted off the seam ripper in Menda’s hand. The witch pressed the little blade to Grandma’s throat.

  “Bring me my crown, Mally May. Only you can save the day.” Menda whispered and her visible eye bulged as she smiled. “Come alone and you’d better come quick or my hand may just slip.” She pressed the blade closer and Grandma gasped.

  “No!” Mally screamed, leaping at her. But again her hands passed through everything as if she was a ghost. Darkness filled her vision.

  “She’s going over!”

  “Catch her, Patch!”

  Mally’s stomach plunged. She was falling from a great height. Branches whipped past her face as the ground rushed up to meet her. She held out her hands, ready for the crash when something caught her from above and jerked her out of the fall.

  “If sleepwalking is a side effect of that crown, I’d advise not wearing it to bed,” Patch growled. “Are you awake now or should I drop you again just to be sure?”

  “Awake.” Mally gasped for breath. She seemed to have left her lungs behind. “What happened?”

  Patch landed softly and sat Mally on the ground. “Something’s up. A chicken came to tell me Ms. Bunny was in pain, but on the way to help her I caught you doing the crazy pants dance right out of the top of the tree.” Patch looked at her with concern wrinkling the fabric around his eyes. “You okay, little Maker?”

  “I’m fine, but Grandma isn’t.” Mally got shakily to her feet, wrapping her arms around herself. “Menda has her. She’s still alive and she still has a seam ripper, Patch. That one I dropped the night we saved Sunshine! She was holding it to her throat —” Her voice cracked as she saw the scene again in her mind.

  “How do you know this? How did you see it?” Patch asked. But before Mally could answer, a crowd of patchwork animals found them in the darkness.

  “Queen Mally! Are you okay?”

  “We saw something fall from the tree.”

  “Mally, Ms. Bunny needs you!”

  Mally had no choice but to let them guide her back into the Great Tree. The crown spun slowly around her head, sending a constant throbbing ache down her face and neck. The quilt is damaged. Menda has Grandma. What do I do? Mally couldn’t escape the thoughts circling her mind. What do I do? What do I do?

  * * * * *

  The first thing Mally saw when she stepped into the Great Tree was Pin carrying Ms. Bunny down the spiral staircase. She barely noticed the dozens of patchwork animals filling the wide circular room. Her eyes were riveted to Ms. Bunny’s pain stricken face.

  “Is she okay?” Mally said, holding out her hands. “What happened?”

  “She collapsed, Queen Maker. I caught her as I was walking up the steps.”

  “Thank you. Thank you so much for catching her.” Mally whispered. Ms. Bunny lay as still as the inanimate doll she used to be, both paws and her ears tightly wound around the hole in her chest.

  “I’m so sorry, Ms. Bunny. She’s ripped the quilt.”

  “I can… feel it… the Open Door… your way home.” Ms. Bunny’s words came out in short gasps.

  “She has Grandma too,” Mally said. The crown was sending her images in flashes, along with short electric shocks.

  Curious fabric faces surrounded them on all sides. Behind, she heard the distinctive “clip clop” of Oak’s hooves against the floor. The horse had shrunk in size considerably, but her voice boomed angrily through the room, “Shadow is hurt. How is this happening? I guess the witch isn’t as dead as you thought she was.”

  There was a ripple through the Great Tree as many animals cringed in fear. A green fox fell off the windowsill with a crash and quickly scurried under a nearby cabinet. A dozen baby chicks lost their heads completely and rushed for the stairs. A yellow hen chased after them, but she was immediately knocked backward by a new commotion at the door.

  Several flying geese were trying to fly through the opening at the same time. Their wide wings hit the door frame twice before they angled their bodies properly. In their clawed feet they carried another familiar bundle.

  “Sunshine?” Mally fought back tears as the birds carried her over and set her gently in the middle of the big table. Sunshine was wrapped up tight, her wings doubled over twice around her tiny body. Mally ran to help, but her hands were already filled with Ms. Bunny.

  “Let me take her, Queen Mally,” Hoop said, scooping the doll gently out of her arms.

  “Yes, let us help! Let us help!” A chorus of voices rang out all around.

  “Quiet!” Mally yelled and the room went instantly silent. Her head felt like it was going to split in two, but her heart plummeted as she realized what she’d just done.

  The crown gave her power over all things made of fiber. She’d experimented a bit before going to bed and asked a scrap of red fabric and silver thread to make a simple bracelet. It was a poor imitation to the one Creo wore, but it had made her happy to see the threads weaving effortlessly through the material.

  Apparently that power extended to everything made of cloth, including her patchwork friends. All the animals in the room gaped at her, their mouths opening and closing, but no sound came o
ut. With one word she’d effectively muted everyone at once.

  Oak glared darkly at her and her look was mirrored on Patch’s face as well. Mally took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that. You can all speak again.”

  She thought fast, her heart racing. “I need a meeting with the First Made, if they’re here. Menda is still alive. She’s in bad shape, but she may still be able to make snarls. Can we send out patrols? If monsters are coming, the earlier we know the better. If you can’t help with the patrol, please go to bed for now. We’ll wake you when it’s time… to go…”

  “And what about Shadow?” Oak demanded, nodding at the swinging bed. Mally could see the owl’s black feathers spread out over the pink patchwork quilt. “Should I have Patch rip another hole in my chest so I can take care of my friend, or are you going to finish that monster for real this time?”

  Mally clenched her hands into fists, digging her fingernails into her palms to try to stop from crying. “I’m doing my best, Oak! If you’d just stop shouting at me, maybe I could figure out what we’re going to do!”

  “Shouting? I wasn’t shouting!” Oak roared, her white mane whipping through the air. Patch’s big orange body suddenly slid between them.

  “As entertaining as it would be to see the two of you go toe to toe, I think we should leave that for another day. Let’s go see Shadow and tell me how I can help.”

  Patch led Oak over to the swinging bed and Mally let out a long, shaky breath, forcing her body to relax. She watched the horse nuzzle at Shadow’s limp form, her face drawn with concern. She’s just afraid, she thought, trying to let go of her anger. Menda is back and hurting the quilt and now everyone can be hurt too. What am I going to do?

  Hoop carried Ms. Bunny over to rest on the swinging bed with Shadow. Mally hugged her arms around herself and waited for the First Made to join her at the table. The flying geese that had carried Sunshine inside took off to follow her orders. Chickens and ducks flapped their wings, herding chicks and ducklings up the spiral staircase while the bears, monkeys, foxes, and cats left to patrol the field outside.

  Finally the room began to clear and Pattern, Pin, Thimble and Goldie joined her at the table. Spool raced into the room last, his dark blue turkey face pinched with annoyance. Patch slipped into the chair on her right as Mally whispered. “Sunshine, I’m here. What happened?”

  “Mally? Oh Mally!” The bird’s head popped up and she stuck out her legs to stand. But she kept her wings tightly folded around her body. “I did what you asked and I found the Ripping Witch, but she wasn’t dead. It was awful. She’s so twisted and gross and what’s up with her eyeball?”

  “Focus, Sunshine. What happened? Why did the birds have to carry you inside?” Mally was surreptitiously checking her body for ripped seams and couldn’t see any damage.

  “I don’t know how, but she had your Grandma.” Sunshine shook her head. “I tried to hide and keep my wings shut like Patch taught me, but I couldn’t get close enough to help her. I’m so sorry, Mally. I couldn’t get her free.”

  “It’s okay, Sunshine. You’re here and safe and that’s what matters now.” Goldie said. “How did you get away?”

  “Wait, that’s not all. I watched and watched because that Menda sure is flippity floppity. One minute she’s crying and the next she’s screaming. But your Grandma was sewing something as if she couldn’t hear a word. It was weird.” Sunshine hopped from foot to foot. “She just sat there and stitched while Menda went bananas over and over. I kept watching because I figured something had to happen sooner or later, and then it did!”

  Sunshine opened her wings with a flourish and everyone standing around the table flinched as her brilliant light flashed through the room.

  “Oh, sorry, sorry, sorry! I always forget about that.” Sunshine scooted over to Mally, pushing something small across the table. “Menda made your Grandma leave. She had a sharp thingy and she made her go. But your Grandma had stopped stitching. She left this behind and I think it’s for you.”

  Mally looked down at a tiny black and white quilt block. It was less than three inches wide and pieced in a simple pattern that formed a strange shape in the center. She picked up the patchwork, turning it around to see it from another angle. A sudden gust of air blew through the room and the walls began to spin.

  What’s happening?” Mally gripped the table tight as Goldie and Pin tumbled off the surface. Pattern dropped to all fours, his claws digging into the floor as Thimble rolled onto her side, her trunk and ears flailing.

  Pain lanced through Mally’s head. It felt like she’d been shot through the temple with an arrow. The crown twisted, and she doubled over, trying not to throw up.

  Hoop was suddenly at her side, Ms. Bunny’s prone form cradled in her paws. The doll’s dress had slipped from her shoulders and Mally could see the open spot on her chest gaping wide. She looked down at her shirt and found the sleeve whole and uncut, as if she’d never sliced out the heart shape to give to her friend.

  The quilt block slipped out of her hands and spun to the floor. Another gust of wind blasted through the room as it rotated the other way, faster this time. Then it stopped so suddenly, Mally felt like she’d been slammed against a wall. The pain in her head disappeared instantly, but it felt like every bone in her body had been wrenched out of socket.

  Patch glared at her from the floor where he’d flattened himself like a small orange rug. “Whatever you’re doing, please stop.”

  “I’m not doing it! I don’t know what happened! Ms. Bunny, are you okay?”

  The rabbit lifted her head and shook it hard, her ears flapping. “I’m not sure anyone else could do that, Mally. For a second there, I felt every seam that had been fixed open up wide again. It was like we went back to yesterday.”

  “Yes, I could feel it in my crown too.”

  “But how? You were just sitting here,” Spool said crossly. Blue feathers stuck straight up out of his tiny turkey head like he had a mohawk.

  “Wait, what is that quilt block?” Ms. Bunny asked. She hopped up off the floor and ran over. It was shocking to see her back on her feet so quickly after being unable to move just seconds before.

  The doll touched the quilt block gingerly, as if afraid it might bite and rotated it in her paws. As she did, the design suddenly became clear to Mally. “Hourglass. That’s an hourglass quilt block.”

  The room didn’t move as each animal played with the patchwork. They passed it down the table and everyone tried turning it this way and that, but nothing happened. Then Mally took another turn. She rotated it ever so slightly to the right. Nothing happened.

  “That’s clockwise. Try counter clockwise,” Ms. Bunny suggested.

  Mally turned the block just slightly counter clockwise and the wind blew her hair into her face and her stomach registered the slow spin. Patch padded to the window and looked out at the dark sky. “I’d say it’s an hour earlier. I could have sworn it was getting light and now it’s back to full dark.”

  “At least my crown stopped spinning.” Mally reached up to touch the braided band resting still on her brow. She looked at Ms. Bunny. “Are you hurting?”

  “Not a bit.” Ms. Bunny smoothed her ears down her back. “I feel just like I did after you mended that last pile of broken threads in the field outside.”

  So…” Patch pressed a paw over the hourglass block. “You have the power to turn back time, little Queen. Question is, how do we use it?”

  * * * * *

  Mally took a deep breath and held it as she counted to ten. She crouched on the top of the Courthouse Steps block, hiding behind the new Open Door she’d stitched to the right edge of Quilst. This was where she’d seen Menda in her vision and it was surreal to be back in a place she’d never actually been.

  Twelve colorful steps formed a small pyramid on the grassy landscape. The Open Door was perched on top li
ke a strange monument to an ancient god. A single winding path had led them to this clearing through a thick forest of appliqued trees. Like everywhere else she’d visited in Quilst, Mally wished she had more time to explore and enjoy the area. But now was not the time for fun and games.

  Patch pressed against her side, his body shrunk down to fit behind the door frame. She turned and met Ms. Bunny’s calm gaze. The rabbit rode on Patch’s back, the hourglass quilt block pinned to the front of her blue dress. Her ears were up, listening for any sound and Mally was suddenly struck by how different she looked. She could barely recognize the little doll she’d brought with her into the quilt only a few days ago.

  A faint gust of wind at her neck was the signal. The birds had set up spotters in almost every tree between the Open Door and the mountain pass.

  Menda was coming.

  Mally heard her before she saw her. The witch was keeping up a constant stream of crazy commentary.

  “That was MY crown. MINE! She coerced my pet and only with his help did she take it. She will give it back, she has no choice!” Her voice carried loud and clear up the patchwork steps to where Mally was hiding.

  “What you think you had wasn’t yours to begin with,” a soft, gravelly voice answered. The sound made Mally’s heart ache. It was Grandma.

  “Not mine? Not mine?” Menda shrieked. “That was the only decent thing you ever gave me and your stupid brat granddaughter stole it!” There was a strange muffled sound, like a baseball hitting the center of a catching mitt, and a sharp cry split the air. Mally couldn’t help herself. She peeked around the door frame.

  What she saw changed everything. Light from the Open Door shone against Menda’s contorted body. Half of her head had caved in and one of her eyes was completely lost in a mass of deep wrinkles. The other eye bulged three times larger than normal. She stood in the middle of the courthouse steps, her arms raised high into the air, her black mitten hands clenched into fists ready to strike again.

  “No!” Mally screamed. She forgot the plan, she forgot about the animals hiding in the trees and she forgot she was queen. All she saw was Grandma crumpled on the steps, her white hair spread over the bright fabrics, a dark bruise already blooming on her cheek.