by Lani Lenore
“That thing would kill me!” she screamed, though any hope of reasoning with this toy–this demon–had vanished from her.
“I could tell that it might hurt in the beginning, but it must be done. It’s all there is left.”
His insistence was spoken darkly, and she didn’t waste time. Anne turned on her heels and ran. She knew she was going the wrong way–back toward the shafts she had just come from–but she didn’t care as long as she could at least find a place to hide.
She didn’t get far.
She felt it around her ankles first–laces that slipped around her flesh and tightened. She was pulled to the ground. The cat’s eye rolled loose from her grip and she saw what was happening now. The strings were grabbing her.
The same strings that she’d tied to herself in order to retrieve the relic were moving on their own by the puppet’s command, twisting around her arms and legs. The laces pulled at her. She fought. The strings slammed her against the wall of the shaft and her breath left her.
Anne struggled to draw in more air, but it was now thick with the dust that had been knocked loose from the wall. As if the former hadn’t been a hard enough impact to calm her down, the strings dropped her to the floor. Too easily, they spread her weak body apart.
The jester puppet–the owner and governor of those strings–stood over her, his grin wider than it had ever been. His eyes flashed.
“You can’t restrain love,” he told her, sucking air in through his teeth. She realized then that he was salivating. The ‘how’ of it was not important.
The puppet slumped down over her, leering. Anne didn’t beg to be released, didn’t cry or scream. The jester was concentrating deeply on her, and while he took her in, preparing for the thing he’d been anticipating for quite some time, Anne was grasping for something that had rolled to her fingers. It was smooth, round, cold.
She groaned angrily, felt the wooden stake poke her in that most delicate place–
–and then the cat’s eye was in her palm, sailing through the air until it crashed into the evil puppet’s face.
The jester and all his strings recoiled, stumbling back and yelling in pain. Anne didn’t waste a moment. The marble in her arms, she ran past him and off into the direction that would take her to the gate. She only hoped he would not be able to catch up before she reached it. There was still a distance to go, and she was already taxed.
7
Anne fled, and the puppet ran shaking fingers over the side of his face. Crushed. Even though his fingers were cloth and wood, he could feel the cracked porcelain that ran in spiraling patterns. Pain might have been an illusion to him–simply something that he thought he felt–but rage was not. That very real emotion boiled inside him now.
All he’d ever done was love her! He’d watched over her so carefully! His heart–if he had one–had fluttered every time she had walked into the room! He’d cared enough to lift her up when she’d fallen in the hallway, after she’d magically and wonderfully shrank down to just his size. He’d put her into that box, hidden her away to be safe, though with every intention of coming back for her later for his own purposes.
The jester had risked his frame to take her into the rodents’ realm to get the relic the Lady had asked for. Not for the Lady, but for Anne! How could she treat him like this? She had broken his heart and his face. He was ruined.
The puppet groaned angrily, looking down the shaft in the direction the woman had fled. She was no longer in sight, but he knew where she was headed. His smile, though half broken, returned.
She had nowhere else to go.
8
The woman ran as fast as she could, pumping her body so hard that it ached from movement. She’d almost dropped the cat’s eye once, but she pulled it in tighter, refusing to lose it or stop for it. If it fell, her life took priority over little Olivia’s acceptance.
Anne moved down the path, fighting the air itself as it threatened to push her back. She remembered the way. It wasn’t far…
The grate emerged in her sight, and somehow she found the strength to press onward–faster. Anne ran so hard for the gate that she could not stop before colliding with it. It did not budge; locked tight, but that was not going to stop her. Urgently, she beat her hand against it.
“Let me out!” she screamed at whoever might hear her.
“Let you…in?” came a voice, and she saw a red guard emerge into her view.
“Whichever!”
“What’s the password?” he wanted to know.
Password! What?
“This is an emergency!” she cried, hitting the grate as hard as she could. “Something is after me! I need to get in!”
“Not without the–”
“Sing a song of six–pence!” she screeched loudly into his face, her scratchy voice echoing down through the shaft.
The soldier shook his head.
“I’m sorry. That’s to get out. You need a different password to get in.”
Anne hit her head against the solid gate, trying to think–to make a guess on the password. How could she have known? It was likely Olivia’s twisted mind that had concocted it…
Olivia!
An idea came to her then, swirling into her head like a new breeze. Granted, this idea might only work if these weren’t the same guards that had let her through this gate earlier. Taking a breath, Anne raised the pitch of her voice.
“Listen here, toad!” she said firmly to the soldier. “I am your Lady Sovereign, and I demand that you let me back in this instant!”
“L–Lady?” the guard questioned, peering closer.
Anne looked behind her and into the darkness. All seemed quiet. Still, she was frantic to be free.
The soldier took his time, squinting at her, examining her hair and her stature. Could she pass for Olivia? Anne prayed all humans looked alike in the eyes of a toy.
“You need proof?” she cried, shoving her hand through one of the holes in the vent.
Her hand was indeed a bit larger than Olivia’s, but she did not expect the toys to notice this.
The soldier took one look at it and called to his comrade. “She’s flesh! It’s the Lady! Open the gate immediately!”
There was no hesitation, though the gate was so heavy that it did not move quickly. The screws were undone. The yarn was taken up. Slowly, the grate was dragged open. A crack of greater light became visible…
Anne could hear something approaching quickly in the tunnel behind her.
“Hurry!” she barked.
The soldiers pulled harder. A dark form came into view behind her, coming fast. She squeezed through the opening just as it became big enough.
“Lady Sovereign,” the soldier said, dropping to one knee. “What are you doing outside the pala–”
He didn’t get to finish. Anne tore past him without a word, and somehow he realized that he’d been fooled.
“You! Halt there! Stop!”
Anne did not halt. She ran onward toward the fort of books, holding tightly to the cat’s eye.
Chapter Seven: …So Long as Children are Innocent and Heartless
1
Anne barreled into the throne room, ignoring all who tried to stop her, and even those who yelled at her along the way. She fell to her hands and knees before the throne, gasping and clinging to the floor as if it would lend her strength. She’d made it back first–before the possessed puppet that had tried to kill her. Tried to rape me and kill me… At least she would get to tell her side of the story initially.
This is madness…
“Lady Sovereign,” Anne breathed respectfully, bowing so low that she was nearly lying on the floor.
Despite Anne’s abrupt intrusion, the Lady nodded that this be allowed. The feathers were swept away and Olivia was revealed–only Anne wasn’t looking, too busy with a degree of groveling that she hated herself for. Her life and freedom were on the line, however; she wasn’t too proud.
“You have what I’ve asked for?” the
girl queried, no doubt peering down her nose at the filth before her.
“Yes.”
She offered up the cat’s eye without hesitation, and one of Olivia’s servants took it from her hands and rushed it to the ruler. Anne continued to stare at the floor, trying to manage her breath. She’d finally steadied it to a rhythmic pant.
Olivia reached out for the relic in anticipation, embracing it, but when her fingers ran over the warm glass of the marble, her smile fell.
“What is this?”
Anne raised her head at the sound of the inquiry, confused as to why Olivia had any question about the gift. Not only that, the tone of the girl’s voice was a bit disgusted.
“It’s what you asked for,” Anne informed her, drowning in the mysterious confusion that had seeped into the room.
Olivia rolled the marble in her hands appraisingly. She shook her head.
“This isn’t what I asked for.”
“Yes, it is,” Anne insisted, her eyes narrowing.
Had the wretched girl actually forgotten what she’d requested of her? Perhaps Theodore the bear hadn’t marked it down?
“No,” the Lady said, firmly and loudly. “This is a marble. I asked you for the cat’s eye.”
Anne was shocked to silence. She couldn’t move, and for a moment she didn’t breathe. Olivia had actually expected her to cut out the cat’s eye? Duchess’s eye?
“Ever since I saw her eyes, I thought they were the most beautiful things,” Olivia said dreamily. “I so much wanted to have one for my very own.”
I always gave you too much credit. You’re so much more insane than anyone ever imagined, Olivia. This was what Anne wanted to say, but at that moment, the hinge of her jaw was locked.
“But I have since decided that it was a very bad decision,” the Sovereign continued. “I received word not long ago that the cat has actually eliminated several of our enemies.”
The toys consulted each other on the issue, and each one of them seemed to give their Lady credit for whatever the cat had done–or had been allowed to do because she’d gotten to keep both her eyes. In actual fact, they should be thanking Anne. She was the one who had seen the mice and locked Duchess in the kitchen, but she was much too angry over other things to press that particular matter. A muscle at the corner of her eye jumped.
“You mean to tell me,” Anne said lowly, rising, “that I just spent the last while wandering around in the dark with a lunatic puppet just to bring you that, and it’s not even what you wanted?”
Olivia hardly even seemed to hear Anne’s words of fury. Instead, she busily scanned the area and returned to Anne with a confused look.
“Where is Quentin, exactly?”
“Majesty!”
Into the palace, the jester puppet ran, clumsily sliding across the slick, red ribbon lining the floor.
Perfect timing for an overdramatic appearance, Anne thought, staying clear as he ran past her.
Oddly enough, he ignored her completely, rushing straight into the awaiting arms of Olivia, who had stepped from her throne.
“Look!” he cried, falling to his knees before her. “Look what she did to me!”
Anne cringed when Olivia took the jester’s face in her hands. At the sight of the cracked and dented porcelain that was just barely able to remain in one piece, the Lady Sovereign’s face twisted in deep anger.
“What is the meaning of this, Anne?” she screeched.
The nurse–who seemed to be in authority no longer–took several deep breaths to calm herself. Oh! If Olivia only knew what that puppet had tried to do to her! But standing there, Anne wondered if it was possible to even make the girl understand.
“He tried to kill me!” she shot, pointing toward the jester.
“It’s a lie!” he cried, clinging to his Lady for comfort. “She was going to go pledge loyalty to the enemy! I tried to stop her and finally she relented, but then she tried to dispose of me!”
“He’s the one telling lies!” Anne screamed, but she could tell by the look on the Lady’s face that this was not going well for her. She, of course, believed the toy. And Olivia was the only one that mattered.
“That’s not what really happened,” Anne went on. “He…”
She began reluctantly, not wanting to bring this particular thing to light. Olivia might not have been a normal girl, but Anne was certain she still had feelings. Even so, Anne knew that bringing it up was the only way to make her appeal.
“He tried to do to me what Todd did to you!” she yelled out quickly before she could change her mind.
Olivia’s breath caught in her throat, and the girl that had just held the air of a ruler was reduced to a mere child again. She bit back embarrassment, but Anne knew better than to look at it. Olivia kept her eyes on the floor.
“Is this true?” the Lady Sovereign asked the jester with sadness in her eyes.
Looking into her eyes, the puppet began to panic; it showed in his cracked face as he grasped for an explanation.
“She shouldn’t have teased me. The harlot!” he cried. “I was forced, I tell you. You have to believe me, Lady!”
It had been Anne’s intention to recall the memory of this to Olivia, and judging by the look on the girl’s face, she’d succeeded. Olivia’s eyes were wide with surprise, then filled with hurt as she looked at her beloved jester. She had made the connection, and his actions were a betrayal she could not forgive. Anne waited only for justice.
“He said I made him do it,” Olivia muttered. “He said I shouldn’t have tempted him so…. No!” She removed her hands from the jester’s face, erasing her sympathy. The puppet became caught in the tide of confusion that had washed over earlier. “No, no. You shouldn’t have done that. It’s a very bad thing!”
Anne said nothing. This was going just as she wanted, but she made sure her face didn’t reveal that.
“Theodore!” the Lady Sovereign bellowed. “I want you to write down that anyone who does the ‘very bad thing’ will be imprisoned immediately with possible execution!”
The bear did not hesitate, and Olivia turned sorrowful eyes down to the jester.
“I’m sorry,” she told him gently, “but you have to go to prison now.”
The puppet shook his head frantically as if he’d been betrayed–as if he had no idea that he’d done anything wrong.
“Only for a while,” she added. “Until you’ve learned your lesson. If you do not reform…”
There were no more words on the matter. Soldiers stepped in and dragged the terrible jester toy away, and Anne was finally able to sigh in relief, but that didn’t mean she was out of the toy chest yet.
The Lady sat back down on her throne, took a deep breath and regained herself.
“Now, my ruling as pertains to Anne–”
Footsteps pounded across the floor. Everyone in the throne room turned to see a lone soldier running through, passing around Anne and dropping reverently before the Lady.
“Forgive the intrusion, Lady Sovereign,” he said quickly, “but we’ve just received news that an enemy unit is assembling. We need orders.”
Concerned talk filled the chamber, but Anne couldn’t focus on any of those words. Greater than that, Olivia seemed to have forgotten about her completely. It was only for a soldier that the Lady was reminded at all. Anne made a mental note of his wooden face as he gripped her arm.
“Sovereign… The prisoner?”
The Lady turned her head, only glancing at her former nanny before waving a dismissive hand with an uninterested expression.
“Release her; she’s harmless.”
Thank God.
The guard seemed confused, but eventually let go of Anne’s arm. From the side, a servant pushed the unworthy green marble back into her hands. The Lady had already turned to her council, but Anne was not done. Her plea was important, and she would be heard.
“Olivia, please!” Anne reasoned. “You have to stop this. You need to come with me, so we can figure out how
to fix whatever has happened!”
“I’m not going anywhere until Armand comes back,” the Lady yelled. “I promised I’d stay here. Now just go, Anne!”
The woman didn’t wait around to be told again. She shook her head and stormed out of the room, leaving all the bustling confusion behind.
2
When Anne left the Lady’s palace, the soldiers outside were stirring, assembling to hear the new reports and receive their orders. They all ignored her. She passed right through their midst, carrying the round, glass gift that was useless. Still, it was her only possession in this world.
The woman was a wreck–in every way that a person could be. She was emotionally, physically, and mentally taxed. It was undeniable that she was dirty with the dust of the shafts, and she could still feel those termites crawling over her skin.
All that she’d been through, and she was still in the same shape as when she’d begun.
Anne clutched the marble tighter, moving along without paying attention to where she was going to. At the moment, she couldn’t force herself to care. Anne thought about the ridiculousness of all this and how she was much too different to succumb to this social order.
“Fine, Olivia,” she muttered to herself angrily. “Just fine. Go on with your little game and we’ll see who comes out of this in the end.”
She needed Olivia back out; she knew that. In her anger, she had neglected it, and before that notion could come to worry her, her mind had jumped to something else.
“And, oh God, Todd. Why?”
Anne would have to admit that she’d had no idea about what Todd had done to the girl–of what the jester had informed her that he’d done. She somehow felt guilty for it, since the girl was made her responsibility, but Anne wasn’t going to let that drag her into feeling sorry. When they got large again, if Olivia brought it up, Anne would defend herself however she had to. She’d force it all on Todd and his strikingly handsome head.
Now, about getting large…
