Marionette (The Dollhouse Books)

by Anya Allyn

  Sophronia blinked in relief, her shoulders relaxing slightly. “Why are you two here?”

  “I don’t understand what’s going on here.” Molly’s tone was flat and angered. “Shoot me if you want to, but I’m about to find out.” She reached for the door handle behind me.

  “No!” I grasped her arm.

  “I’ll tell you what’s behind the door.” Sophronia eyed Molly with a level gaze. “It’s you.”

  Molly’s back stiffened and she turned back to face Sophronia. “What did you say?”

  “It’s you,” Sophronia repeated. “You are behind the door.”

  Molly shook her head, her lower lip trembling. “That makes no sense.”

  “Molly,” I said softly. “You and Aisha are in there—both unconscious in hospital beds—hooked up to drips. The Molly and Aisha from this world.”

  Molly paced away from the door, gripping a shelf in horror. “And if I’d gone in there…”

  “If you’d gone in there and touched Molly, the two of you would have become one,” said Sophronia. ”And the person who disappeared would have been you.”

  9. THE MEETING

  One of the men—a mountain of a man with a bristly dark beard—tipped his gun up. “We’d better check what other ammo they’ve got.”

  “I’ll check them, Mr. Calhoun.” Sophronia had us remove our jackets, and she patted down our sides. “Nothing,” she said.

  Holding guns to our necks, the men escorted us back up the stairs, to a conference area on another floor. Overhead, in the massive circular aquarium, a shark swam and butted its head against the glass.

  Sophronia glanced upwards. “He’s the last fish left in the tank. The others were either eaten by him, or eaten by us. I think he knows he’s soon to become shark soup.” Her face grew taut. “Last time you were here, you just appeared out of nowhere. I didn’t know which world you were from or why you were here. I did not know if your intent was good or bad. But you were rushing towards the basement, and I thought the worst. But then Ethan followed you through the refraction and found out who you were and from which worlds.”

  Molly quietly touched her arm. “That was the first time I’d ever heard you speak.”

  Sophronia smiled at her. “I know. In the dollhouse I was afraid that if I spoke, I would give myself away. You see, the families of my ancestors had kept the first book of the Speculum Nemus hidden in a temple in India for centuries. It was our task. It was stolen in 1920 by Tobias. For the next hundred years, my family tried to reclaim it. There was word the book had found its way to Australia. I was sent to discover where it was. I found my way to the forest at Devils Hole. Lacey discovered me there and I was drugged and taken to the dollhouse. Henry did not know who I was and he would have killed me if he had known.”

  Molly and I exhaled a long breath as Sophronia finished her story.

  “That explains so much,” said Molly. “So, so much. In my world, after we were rescued, you disappeared. Now I understand why.”

  “Yes,” Sophronia said, “The double of me that is in your world would have needed to get back to India without anyone finding out who she was.”

  “Sophronia,” I said quickly. “In my world—this world—when I left you all in the dollhouse, you had all taken the poison. There was no one to bring rescue. How did you all escape? And how did you get here, of all places—I don’t understand?”

  She nodded. “I know you have many questions. I have just as many for you. But I’m afraid that right now, they are going to hold a meeting to decide your fate. One of the guards has already gone to tell everyone. When someone breaks into the museum, we hold a meeting to decide whether they can stay or not. In the past, it’s mostly been people trying to escape the rangers and serpents.”

  People moved along the mezzanine floors above, coming toward us. Children peered over the short walls of the upper levels at us, and were ushered back by the adults.

  “I’ll fill you in quickly,” said Sophronia. “There are four groups of people here at the museum. There are guards, who keep this place secure. There are the scientists who were trapped here when everything froze. Mostly, the people here are just residents of Miami who had nowhere else to go. And lastly, there’s a group that call themselves The Holy Order of Sister Celia. They’re an offshoot of a group formed back in 1920 by a woman named Madame Celia. The original group believed there was a book in existence that was going to destroy the world. Madame Celia died in 1925. The offshoot group of people here are extremists and that makes them dangerous.” She eyed us with a direct gaze. “Your best bet is to say as little as you can.”

  Molly nodded, her expression numb. As shocking as it had been for me to discover a double of her in the basement, I knew that it must be even more confronting for Molly.

  I drew my lips in, wanting to ask Sophronia everything, worried that she’d close up if I asked. But the people from the museum were already surging toward us.

  A group of people wearing odd, loose tunics over their cold-weather clothing circled us. A woman with a thin nose scrutinized us. “They have been in other worlds. They are tainted, they are abominations.”

  “Sister Bettina, hold on.” Sophronia held up her hands. “When outsiders find their way into the museum, we hold a fair meeting to decide their fate.”

  Sister Bettina shook her head. “The tall one is the same as the poor soul in the basement. We already know she is from another earth. And both of them have crossed the universes. Those who have had the knowledge of the other worlds are abominations in the sight of God. That knowledge is meant only for God. They are witches and we cannot suffer them to live.”

  Another man from the group that Sophronia had called the Order stepped forward. He held out a Bible and flipped it open. “Look at them, and listen to the holy warnings of God. They are wandering stars. I read to you Jude 1:13: Raging waves of the sea, foaming out their own shame; wandering stars, to whom is reserved the blackness of darkness forever.” He gazed intently at us. “You who wander between planets are forever cast out. You are the shame of God. We cannot let you live.”

  Anger and fear rose in Molly’s eyes. “We didn’t choose any of this.”

  More people came—people dressed in ordinary clothing and not the clothing of the Order.

  A woman bustled forward. Her hair was gray, her skin dark and her eyes fierce. “You cannot apply those Bible passages to these young girls. We don’t know anything about them, yet you’d take their lives so easily? You’re acting out of fear. Those monsters out there in the lake—and those monsters from the castle—they’re the true abominations.”

  The guard—Mr. Calhoun—drew his thick eyebrows down. “I don’t hold with that religious argy-bargy, but yeah, call ’em witches if you will. They broke in here and were sneaking around. They were up to no good. And they’re from the castle—isn’t that enough? They’re damned spies. If I’d seen ’em first—”

  “We are not spies,” I said between my teeth.

  Mr. Calhoun’s green eyes blazed. He trained his gaze on Molly and me. “State your case. Why are you here?”

  “We were sent,” Molly told him.

  Shocked gasps punctuated the air.

  “They were sent,” shouted Mr. Calhoun, his voice echoing in the wide spaces of the museum. “What more proof do we need? They want the book. Should we just give it to them on a plate?”

  “We do not have the book,” the woman with the gray hair told him coldly. “So just how are we to do that?” She turned to Molly and me. “I know who you are. I met Ethan, just after the ice came to this world. My name is Nabaasa.”

  Her eyes were kind, eyes that had known pain.

  “Where’s Ethan?” I asked her.

  Her expression clouded. “He is across the bay, in the stronghold of the rangers. He’s looking for one of us—a little girl.”

  “Frances....” The name dropped from Molly’s trembling lips.

  “Yes. I know you know her.” Nabaasa squeezed he
r tired eyes closed for a moment. “We’re praying for her safe return.”

  “Let us go,” said Molly. “I want to go look for Frances too.”

  Nabaasa shook her head firmly. “The rangers will either kill you or capture you. And if you’re captured, we would have to send more of our own to go and try to get you back. Ethan is not the only one looking—we have five from the museum over there right now.”

  Sophronia glanced toward a small group of people who were making their way down a far set of stairs. “They are the scientists,” she told us. “They’ve been studying a dead serpent in the lab.”

  A woman of Indian heritage and two men walked to the front of the assembly.

  “My name is Doctor Indu Sharma,” said the woman to Molly and me, “and this beside me is Doctor Mitchell Blakeney and Doctor Cody Zimmerman. We are all research scientists who were here providing our knowledge to museum projects at the time of the alien colonization. Like so many others, we found ourselves trapped here by this new and very shocking turn of biological events. Our knowledge lies in the fields of zoology, astrophysics and genomics.”

  We nodded in acknowledgement.

  “Now,” she continued, “I understand that you two have lived in close contact with the phenomena we’ve all named the shadow, and that one of you has had contact with one of the alien species themselves. We would like to find out what you know and share and increase our combined knowledge bank.”

  Calhoun tapped his pistol on his chin, his eyes blazing. “Except that those two have outstayed their welcome. It’s a danger to us to have them here.”

  Dr. Sharma shook her head in alarm. “Mr. Calhoun, please. We were briefed that a meeting was to be held and we’ve come here expecting a meeting. It could prove extremely important to us all.”

  His expression stayed firm. “The females were sent here—they admitted as much. You can’t tell me they’re not fricking spies.”

  Sister Bettina nodded at Mr. Calhoun. “These are not ordinary trespassers. They have committed offences against God that cannot be forgiven.”

  Dr. Sharma gazed at Sister Bettina with an exasperated expression. “We value the work that you do here, but you must also value ours. We have been told that these girls have been in close contact with the shadows and aliens, and you must not prevent us from learning all that they know.”

  “This is a war,” Mr. Calhoun exploded. “An end-of-the-world war—we can’t afford to take foolish bloody chances.”

  Nabaasa let out a short, sharp breath. “Mr. Calhoun, it seems that ever since you found your way to the museum, you’ve had one objective. To take over.”

  Mr. Calhoun raised a bushy eyebrow. “Someone had to lead. What was here but a bunch of children, a few scientist-types who can’t even explain what the hell is going on, an Order of mumbo-jumbo spiritualists, and some scared-shitless people who couldn’t find anywhere better to go.”

  One of the other guards crossed his arms. “Calhoun, we managed to defend this place against the rangers long before you came along.”

  Mr. Calhoun let out a derisive hoot. “You would have run out of ammo sooner or later. I brought you people a crapload of ammunition—and knew which homes had craploads of ammo as well and where it was hidden. I had a ton of hunting buddies. God knows the military can't help us now. They're gone, annihilated. You people better start smelling the bloody daises."

  “Yeah, okay that’s true,” the other guard conceded. “The more the merrier where guns are concerned. We need as much protection as we can get. Just stop throwing your weight around. If the scientists say they need to talk to these girls, then let ’em. They might be just a bit smarter than you and me.”

  “Derrick, you were a comic book clerk before you came to the museum,” said Mr. Calhoun. “You’re a nerd with a gun. What the hell do you know about anything? I’ve been shooting since before you were born.”

  Nabaasa shook her head. “Please. We will have a fair meeting and we will allow the scientists their time with these girls.” She looked over at the people of the Order with sharp eyes. “And you will not intervene. You have had your say.”

  Mr. Calhoun stormed away. “Yeah, go on, have at it. Just don’t say Calhoun didn’t warn you.”

  The people of the Order drew back, but their expressions remained unyielding.

  Dr. Sharma turned back to the assembly. “Emotions are naturally running high. We’re all undergoing the greatest stresses humanity has ever known. And if it is a war, then we are losing. In fact, we never had a chance against the creatures out there. They are of a species so advanced that they can alter an environment to suit their needs. There has never been such a species on earth. We can cite human beings, but as much as we are able to change our environment, we cannot change the weather in this way.”

  She clasped her hands together. “Our time is limited. I will quickly state the extent of our knowledge. This is what we know so far. The reptilian creatures are predators from another world in our universe. They are intelligent beings and not mere animals. They arrived here by some passage we do not yet understand. And we do not understand the mechanisms by which they are able to plunge the earth into a virtual ice age. All we know is that they are able to affect the temperature around them. In recent months, Ethan discovered a dead alien out on the ice, and brought it back to us in sections. From what we understand by Dr. Zimmerman’s autopsy of the dead alien, they self-replicate. These creatures are possibly many hundreds of years old. They shed their skins perhaps once yearly, coming onto land to do so.”

  She bent her head, closing her eyes for a moment. “Most terrifying is a substance released by the creatures through their skin—something totally unknown to science. It could be likened to the ink an octopus sprays when in danger, except that this substance retains the intelligence of the creature. It remains connected to the creature but functions independently, acting like a scout searching for prey. It is able to communicate the thoughts of the creature through some unknown frequency. This shadow being is also lethal, having the power to kill—although it rarely appears to choose to do so. Our guns are protection against the rangers to a degree, but cannot protect us against the shadows.”

  Dr. Zimmerman nodded thoughtfully, his eyes strained. “And we cannot outlast this type of environment. Taking fish from the bay is fraught with danger—either the rangers or the reptilian creatures are likely to end your life. In any case, there may be no fish left. The fish species that used to populate the bay have been replaced by new species that can withstand the cold temperatures—but these are routinely eaten by the aliens. Growing plants requires either sunlight or other energy sources. And sunlight is scant and energy resources are running low.” He shot a weary glance at Sister Bettina. “Who we trust or do not trust may soon become a moot point.”

  Dr. Sharma stepped closer to Molly and me. “From what Sophronia, Ethan and Frances have previously told us, one of you lived with the shadow of an alien in an enclosed space for many years and one of you came in close contact with one of the aliens themselves?”

  Molly nodded. “I lived in the underground caves beneath Devils Hole in Australia for five years—the shadow was always there. Cassie was there during the last two months of this time. She discovered an escape route through the mountain—all the way to the cave of the serpent.”

  “Yes,” replied Dr. Sharma. “That is what we have been told. Why were you kept there, with the shadow—we do not understand this? We cannot think you were kept there as a food source for the alien—as it seems only one of you was taken by the shadow in the entire five year period?”

  Molly’s expression darkened. “The serpent didn’t want to kill us. It wanted to use us.”

  The scientists gazed at Molly with doubt in their eyes.

  “For what purpose would they use you?” said Dr. Mitchell Blakeney.

  A frown crossed Molly’s smooth forehead. “I don’t know. The shadow never told me....”

  “Then how do you know the
shadow wanted to use you?” demanded Dr. Blakeney.

  “I know because of a girl I knew.” A sigh escaped Molly’s lungs. “Prudence. She was taken by the shadow.”

  Dr. Blakeney paced before Molly. “How is this possible? A girl was taken by the shadow, yet lived to tell the tale? I have seen for myself what happens to those taken by the shadow. There is nothing left to tell any tale.”

  “You have to want to go to them.” Molly’s voice was dead. “They try to convince you.”

  Dr. Blakeney eyed Molly with frustration on his face. “I don’t understand why they’d do that. What’s in it for them?”

  “You’re asking me something I don’t know the answer to,” Molly told him. “All I know is that once they have you, they have you forever.”

  “And how did this Prudence manage to get messages to you after she was dead?” he asked.

  “As a spirit,” said Molly.

  Removing his glasses, Dr. Blakeney rubbed his eyes. “This is crossing into the realm of fairytales. I understand that you were kept in that place called the dollhouse for a long time. Perhaps it has warped your perception on reality.”

  “No,” cried Sophronia, “you know me. I have been with you all along. I was in the dollhouse too. And if you find it hard to believe, then take a look outside and tell me what you see. Is there anything believable out there? Eighteen months ago, would you have believed any of this could happen? Any of it at all?”

  He refused to answer.

  “Let Molly speak,” cautioned Dr. Sharma. “If we want to know what they know, we must let them tell it to us.” She nodded her head at Molly.

  “Is there somewhere I can draw what Prudence showed me?” asked Molly.

  “Certainly.” Dr. Sharma showed her toward a whiteboard set up in the corner of the meeting space.

  Molly stepped up to the whiteboard and drew a picture—a picture of the symbol of infinity with an eye within each loop. She turned back to the assembly. “This is what Prudence drew, after she was taken by the shadow.”