by Jodi Lamm
Though Maddy could see Will was only joking, an odd moment of silence followed, in which Jas appeared to war with himself over the idea. Finally, he forced an awkward laugh. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
Maddy felt sick to her stomach.
Will’s mouth hung open in disbelief. “You are, aren’t you?” He pushed himself to his feet. “I get it now. That’s what this is really about. Honestly, James, of all the girls you could have shown interest in, you chose one who isn’t even capable of rejecting you? Are you really that insecure? This is absurd! She hasn’t even got a soul—” He caught himself and clapped a hand over his mouth.
At first, Maddy didn’t believe her own ears. She tried to catch Jas’ attention in order to question him, but neither Jas nor Will noticed her. They both stood, horrified, waiting for the other to move first.
“I warned you.” Jas’ whole body shook. “I warned you not to say too much.”
“Listen, James…” Will gulped.
“Get out!” The stag lunged and Will scrambled backward, falling over his chair to get away. “Get out, you stupid, selfish bastard! I never want to see you again!”
Will took a beat too long to react. He wavered and looked in danger of passing out. Something far more powerful than drink poisoned him. Still, somehow, he managed to drag himself out the door.
The sun had set. Maddy stared at the blackened sky until Father Androcles addressed her. “Puppet, would you be so kind?” He gestured to the still open door. “Drafts aren’t good for an old man’s bones.”
Maddy absently did as she was told. If what Will had said was true, she was a puppet, after all—an empty, soulless doll. And Jas truly was her master. She imagined herself sitting lifeless, without a hand to control her. Only one thing mattered to her now. When she found it, she whirled around more triumphant than a dog that had finally caught its own tail. “It’s Marcus!”
“What?” Jas looked worn out and confused.
“You said you needed one good reason not to abandon me.” She couldn’t stop grinning. “My brother won’t let me return home. That’s a good reason.”
Jas thought a moment. “You’re right. He might be a problem. Especially if he can overpower you.”
Father Androcles perked up at that. “Who can overpower her?”
“Marcus Lavoie, it seems,” Jas answered. “I can’t imagine any magic that could keep her from obedience. He might have found it, though.” He laughed without mirth. “Power of love, I suppose.”
“He’s not in love,” Maddy grumbled. “He’s not like that.”
“I’d wager my head he is.”
Maddy crossed her arms. “I’ll take your wager. But first, admit I found one good reason.”
“Fine.” Jas sighed. “I’ll see you home and deal with the lovesick boy, but after that, I’m gone.”
She cringed at the word gone.
“I knew you weren’t going to make this easy.” Jas sounded almost proud. “I’m beginning to think I was wrong not to trust my father in the first place. He must have known sealing your memories would keep the chaos at bay.”
“Hold on a tick,” Father Androcles said. “Eli did this? Eli sealed her memory away?”
Jas nodded. “He’s the only one I know who could have. I just wish he had told me about it before I nearly destroyed everything he tried to protect.”
Father Androcles put his palm to his forehead and muttered, “This is not good.” Then he cleared his throat and said, “If you want my opinion, though I doubt you do, you shouldn’t trust my cunning little brother any more than you’d trust a rabid badger.”
“You don’t trust anyone, Uncle,” Jas said.
Father Androcles feigned offence. “I trust people. Only I trust the right people, and you trust all the wrong people.”
“Do you trust me?” Jas said, as though he knew he’d caught the man.
Father Androcles laughed. “Of course not! What kind of oaf do you think I am?”
“See—”
“Now that tall friend of yours—the one you just fed to the bloodsucking night bugs—that one, I would trust with my life.”
Jas opened and closed his mouth a few times before he could clamber out from under his defeat. “I… I can’t believe you think William, of all people… That man is a lying… He isn’t even a real tailor!”
“Don’t be silly, boy. The man’s a genius with the snippers.” Father Androcles mimed a pair of scissors. “Anyway, he’s got something to lose, doesn’t he? People with nothing to lose are those you ought to worry about.”
Jas snorted. “All William has to lose is a bad reputation.”
“He could lose you,” Father Androcles said with a smile. “And I’m thinking you’re just about everything in the world to him. Of course, you already know that.”
“Fine.” Jas turned to Maddy, who could hear the relief in his voice as he said, “Go and bring him back, would you? But this is the last chance I’m giving him.”
Maddy didn’t believe him. From Jas, she could feel a thousand more chances waiting for Will Taylor, along with a powerful attachment and a history that wasn’t hers.
She didn’t have to search long to find him. A good ten paces brought her face to face with the crouching giant, who had been listening to everything through an open window. He put a finger to his lips and beckoned her closer. “Promise not to rat me out?” he whispered. “I’ve got to get a handle on what’s really going on.”
Maddy nodded and made herself comfortable, squatting alongside Will with her back to the wall. An instant camaraderie grew between them as they spied like children on the two authorities left inside. Maddy knew it wasn’t just her imagination when Will winked and smiled at her. Though he’d been the one to suggest her emptiness, he still treated her more human than anyone else. She scooted closer to him as they listened, just to feel the warmth of him, just to imagine he’d been her friend as long as he had been Jas’.
Inside, Jas was frantic. “Simon Magus did it, didn’t he? Why can’t I?”
“That’s only a legend and you know it.” Father Androcles sounded nothing like his usual singsong self. “We both know I want this as much as you do. But if it doesn’t work and you find her chaos is not as benign as you think it is, then what? Will you really risk the world for this? Those who came before you did what needed to be done, even though it hurt them, but you won’t? You. You’re still the boy in the glass box, aren’t you? You should have matured into a man, but you didn’t. You’re still weak and scared.”
Someone else’s tears poured down Maddy’s face. She tried to wipe them away, but they kept coming.
“I…” Jas choked. “I can’t destroy her.”
“You’ll have to, James.”
“I can’t!”
“How much blood do you want on your hands, boy? Because if that puppet falls out of your control, you know what could happen. Wake up! My brother has set you to some evil. He’s playing you like his very own fiddle. I promise you this won’t end well, not if he gets his way.”
The stag sank to the ground; Maddy felt it in her knees. “You’re right,” he said. “It’s too late… I condemned her long ago…”
Without warning, Will put his palms over Maddy’s ears and pulled her away from the window. “Come with me. You don’t want to hear any more of that nonsense.” He tried to smile, but Maddy saw he was worried.
She wrenched herself free and gave him a warning look.
He took her by both hands and used his chocolate voice. “Don’t be like that, doll. I brought a present for you.” He shook her hands playfully and walked backward. “You’ll like it, I promise. And if I let you listen any longer, I think James will kill me.”
Maddy shook her head.
“He surely will. And it’ll be easy for him, especially if he uses you.”
“I wouldn’t do that,” Maddy said aloud. It didn’t matter that Will couldn’t hear her. She needed to convince herself. Still she followed him without a f
ight.
“Almost there.” Will smiled at the sight of his brown, speckled mare, still tethered to a tree behind the sanctuary. “Good girl,” he muttered when she nuzzled him. The tailor’s mare had a long, leather bag strapped over her rump. It seemed an odd shape for a saddlebag, until Will opened it up and Maddy saw it was for carrying garments. “I thought you might like this back.” Will tossed something dark and familiar to Maddy.
Suddenly, Maddy didn’t care what Jas and Father Androcles were talking about. What Will had thrown to her—what she now held in her arms—was her precious greatcoat, its pockets still full of her treasures. She pressed it to her face and savored the smell of it.
Will grinned. “I was planning to deliver it to your mother after…” He couldn’t finish. Maddy had knocked the wind out of him with an over-enthusiastic embrace. She desperately wanted him to stand beside her when she faced her family again. She wanted to believe he would be someone who knew her for who… for what she was and stayed with her anyway. She wanted these things so badly that when he tried to end the embrace, Maddy held him all the tighter.
If only she could keep him. But how? She squeezed the purse in her greatcoat pocket and smiled to herself. Perfect. She determined to find out just how repulsive a thing she was and keep her only link to humanity in one shot. If a professional consort refused her, she would know for sure she was a monster. But if he stayed with her long enough, perhaps she didn’t need to be anything else.
8: Furious Angel
Maddy drank more than her share of rum, but found it didn’t affect her. She had never tried drowning herself in liquor before and wasn’t sure what she was meant to feel, but the longer she waited, the more she realized it wasn’t happening, whatever it was. This, she assumed, was because Jas hadn’t taken a sip of the stuff. Instead, he’d disappeared, and she couldn’t shake the feeling he’d done so just to avoid facing his friend again. It didn’t matter, though. Jas was gone. And the more Maddy drank, the more Father Androcles and Will drank, which made her feel much braver about her rather questionable plans.
Home would be a dream with Will by her side. How surprised her family would be to see she’d found a suitor, even with all her flaws. They could tie her down each night and she wouldn’t even care. Marcus could love her and hate her in turns, just so long as he never knew the truth. And Will would treat her as though she were any other woman. He would sit beside her and brush his ankle against hers or reach for the same thing she did, touching her hand and apologizing as though it were an accident.
Maddy was so lost in her fantasy, she didn’t notice Will had been talking to her, until he leaned in close and said, “Come back to me, doll. I can’t bear it when you’re so far away.” He smiled when she noticed him. “You’re preoccupied. Tell me why.”
What could she say to him? That she was plotting to use him for her own validation? That she just wanted to fool herself while she could? She grabbed Will’s hand and squeezed it. Time to wade past the breakers.
I need you, she wrote in her book, and put her finger to her lips.
Will raised an eyebrow.
Stay with me?
He nodded, tentatively.
She wrote, How much time will this buy me? slipped him her purse under the table, and wondered how long would it take him to realize she only wanted him to make her feel human.
Will began to sweat when he opened the purse in his lap. Marcus Lavoie had been more than generous; he had given his sister a small fortune in gold.
Maddy snapped her book shut. The deed was done. She’d purchased a man as though he were an object, just like a thousand other noble ladies. But not only for one or two nights, not only as a temporary substitute for a husband at war. What she had paid was worth months, possibly years of his life.
Oblivious to the awkward performance happening right under his nose, Father Androcles rose from the table and informed Maddy that his bedroom was hers and that she should make herself comfortable. Then he told Will to fend for himself.
After the priest tottered off to sleep in his sanctuary, Maddy stood and pulled her purchase after her. Will followed with dull eyes and a hint of hesitation.
“I am empty,” Maddy reminded herself. “If I have no soul, their rules don’t apply to me.” She closed the bedroom door and turned to face her challenge.
Will stared down at her as though she were an impossible puzzle to solve. Maddy reached high, wrapped her fingers around the back of his neck, and pulled him closer. For a moment, she was afraid he would reject her, but he bent his head to her just as she hoped he would.
“Wait…” he started to speak.
She kissed him to keep him quiet. He gave in a little. Then, just as she began to believe she had him, Will pulled away. Gone was the dazed look of too much rum, and Maddy cringed when she saw the concern that replaced it.
“No,” she pleaded with no one and tugged him back into her arms.
“Miss Lavoie,” he whispered, “what are you doing?”
She bit her lip to keep from screaming. So he didn’t want her at all, not now that he knew what she was. The man who loved more women than anyone would bother to count couldn’t even stand to kiss her—not even for a bag of gold.
Will lit an oil lamp on the nightstand and sat at the edge of the priest’s bed. He pushed his fists into the patchwork quilt and thought a long while before he turned back to Maddy. “You can’t fool me, doll,” he said. “You don’t need me that way… not unless James has changed more than his shape in the last three years.”
Maddy dug her fingernails into her palms. Though she’d never heard a more apologetic admonition, it stung far worse than any insult. She fumbled for her book and pen, and dropped them both several times before Will finally made her stop.
“You don’t have to explain.” He invited her to sit beside him. “I think I can guess what this is about. Maybe I gave you the wrong idea last night. I thought I knew what you wanted, and I was prepared to give it to you. I thought you were,” he paused to choose his words carefully, “an ordinary woman. I was wrong.”
Maddy finally wrestled her hands into doing as she wanted and began to write, but realized as she did, she had no idea what to say. She threw her book to the floor and closed her eyes.
“Listen.” Will put an arm around her shoulders. “If you really want this, I’ll give it to you. But I don’t think you do. It’s just not in your nature. That’s no shame,” he said when she hid her face in her hands. “Consider yourself lucky to be free of the whole mess.”
Weary, Maddy retrieved her book from the floor, wrote, What am I? and waited, her pen poised at the bottom of the question mark.
Will wrapped his hands around hers so she could not write more. “I won’t lie,” he said in a low and all too serious voice. “You’re a miracle. I never thought I’d see something like you in my lifetime. You’re also a friend, I hope.” While she was still stunned, he guided her between the bed sheets. Then, without hesitation or ceremony, he climbed in beside her. “I like to keep my friends close, and I do what I can to please the people closest to me. So why don’t you show me what you really crave?” He combed his fingers through her tangled hair. “I promise I’ll stay with you until you have what you want.” He smiled and nudged her. “You paid for me, after all.”
Maddy shivered despite the warmth of Will’s body. What did she really crave? “I wish I could be someone like you,” she whispered. Will just stared at her. Had he understood her? She couldn’t tell. She pretended to sleep until she heard him snore, and then she watched him because she could not remember ever having seen another person sleep.
Once, when Marcus had fallen asleep in his chair beside her bed, she woke before he did and tried to watch him, but he had opened his eyes too soon. She smiled at the memory, and then frowned when she remembered what he had done to her. Why?
She slipped from her place without waking Will, carried the oil lamp to a little desk in the corner, and lit it with trembling
hands. What answer had her brother to give her? What warning? She took a deep breath, unhooked the tiny latch on her locket and retrieved the miniature book.
The rest of the story made it difficult to breathe.
Then the teacher, who was truly a Titan, wrote a word on the clay man’s forehead. The word he wrote meant ‘Truth,’ and truth gave the clay man life, strength, and unwavering obedience. But it could not give him a soul and it could not give him a voice. Still the Titan named the man Joseph and treated him like a son.
Joseph of Prague was a hero for his people. He defended them fiercely and loyally. But the Titan saw how Joseph became more human with every day that passed. Surely, a creature made by a man would run mad if it began to feel, for only God could create a soul.
So the Titan decided to return his man to clay. Some say he tricked Joseph into submission, and others say he merely commanded Joseph to kneel. But everyone knows that with tears in his eyes, the Titan removed one character from the forehead of his own creation. Without that character in the people’s word for ‘Truth,’ Joseph was left with the people’s word for ‘Death’ carved into what used to be his forehead.
In her mind’s eye, Maddy saw Will push the hair from her forehead, looking for something. She covered her ears with her hands, though no one was speaking to her. She was not a clay monster. She was not. The stress of the day had confused her mind—that’s all. Her brother’s warning must have been, Never trust a Titan, or something equally innocuous. He probably hadn’t even written the story himself. He’d just thought a miniature book was a clever idea and so bought one for his sister. That whole speech about a warning was just a game to make the gift more interesting. How very like him.
Maddy tried to laugh at her own paranoia and then stopped. Because she had no voice. Because she could not disobey. Because Will let it slip that she had no soul, and Jas had reacted as though it were true.
She turned to the last page. Marcus had a proud nature that drove him to leave a signature on the last page of every book he made. But it was not the sight of that familiar M. Lavoie that finally destroyed Maddy’s denial. It was the message that came just before.
