Marionette (The Dollhouse Books)

by Anya Allyn

  A knock came at the door. When Molly and I didn’t answer, Francoeur took the liberty of opening it himself. “Seigneur Batiste and Seigneur Baldcott have requested your presence,” he informed us.

  “Why are we wanted?” Molly demanded.

  “It is not my affair to know why—I am merely passing on the request.”

  “And if we don’t go?’ Molly’s lower lip stiffened. "We’re tired. We were forced to spend hours in the ice world yesterday.”

  His chest lifted in a silent sigh. “That is not my concern. If I am not sufficient to bring you downstairs, others will come.”

  He paused, his thin body rigid beneath stooped shoulders. “There is suitable attire for you both in the armoire. I will wait.” He closed the door.

  Glancing at each other, a silent message passed between Molly and me. There was no choice.

  Inside the armoire, new dresses hung—simple but elegant.

  “Why must we wear these—are they holding some kind of special breakfast?” Molly held up a dress made of floaty pale blue chiffon.

  The slightly-shorter dress was a soft yellow with bows on the bodice—this dress being shorter, I knew it was meant for me. Both dresses looked old, like clothing from the 1900s.

  We dressed quickly, and followed Francoeur downstairs.

  The Great Hall and the dining room were empty. The castle seemed an old abandoned relic of a distant age.

  “Where is everyone?” I asked Francoeur.

  “You will find out soon enough.” He stepped through the Great Hall and into the library. As he pulled down a lever, a bookcase shifted, revealing a dark passage behind. A spiral stairwell led downward.

  “Do not be concerned,” he told us in a curt voice. “Such passages are common in old chateaux. In times of siege, the nobility had need of hidden routes to safety. I will remain here. You will go alone.”

  He stepped back.

  A sense of dread enveloped me as we made our way through the dimly-lit stairwell. We stepped out onto a platform that overlooked a cavernous space. Here, a hundred or so narrow steps led directly down. With no railing or banister, a person could easily fall to their death.

  “The dungeons,” said Molly grimly.

  People moved out from the darkness, their faces tilted upwards. Light glowed on the walls and floor as more lamps were lit. It seemed every person from the castle stood below, waiting. Like us, their dress was formal.

  We made stiff steps to the end of the stairs.

  Zach and Parker walked up with their parents. Zach wore a dark, traditional suit—keeping his gaze away from me.

  Mr. Batiste surveyed us with steel-blue eyes. “We are having great trouble in understanding the events that transpired on the day of the couplings.”

  Mr. Baldcott steepled his jeweled fingers. “Of course, we assumed you two would remain locked in your room on the night of the s’emparer. None of us gave you a thought. But such was not what the château desired.”

  Zach’s father gave Mr. Baldcott a nod, then turned back to us. “And it is indeed unfortunate that was not the case. But we do not argue with the will of the chateau—the marriages will go ahead.”

  Molly’s eyes widened in shock and anger. “You can’t be serious. Surely you can’t rely on some ugly mechanical statues to decide who marries who?”

  “The statues are not... mechanical,” said Mr. Batiste. “And the die has been cast. You will participate in the traditional engagement ceremony this morning—where you will exchange rings with your betrothed. And the marriages will take place on the last day of spring.”

  “I will accept no ring.” Molly’s words fell like weights, her eyes stony.

  Parker gave Molly a withering stare. “I won’t marry her. She isn’t one of us and never will be.”

  “Parker,” said his father in a low voice, “your mother and I were joined at the couplings, as were Zachary’s parents. It is the tradition and cannot be broken.”

  “I know about you and the Batistes,” Parker fumed. “But this girl, who is she? She’s no one and nothing.”

  “Calm down.” His mother shot him a sympathetic glance. “Remember that who you marry isn’t the be-all and end-all. She’ll be the mother of your children, but that’s all. You’ll still be free to pursue... other avenues.”

  “Indeed,” agreed Zach’s mother. “I’m just sick about it all, but they’ll be your wives in name only.

  Ignoring them both, Parker stormed away.

  Zach’s jaw tightened. “I cannot marry a girl who despises me.”

  “None of you need to worry.” I gazed from the Baldcotts to the Batistes. “We refuse to marry your sons. Now, if we’re done talking about this, Molly and I would like to leave.”

  “It isn’t nearly that simple.” Mr. Batiste tapped a finger on his lips. “What is done cannot be undone. Zachary and Parker have no say in this, and they know that. But I do have a proposal that may interest you. We have it within our means to change the course of things in the frozen world. Now, we can call off the serpents—have them sent to the arctic regions, where there are no humans. I know you both have people close to you living in close proximity to the serpents. Aisha has informed us of who is there. We can free them from the serpents’ jaws, as it were.”

  A cry escaped me, my trembling hand reaching to my mouth. “You call that a proposal? People are dying every day in that world... are they just a game to you?”

  A wry look crossed his face. “Throughout the ages, countless millions have died before their time for one reason or another. And millions more have replaced them. That is how things play out. If one kingdom does not rise up against the other, then the other surely will.”

  A tear glistened in the corner of Molly’s eye. “The rangers steal children and throw them to the serpents. How can you sleep while such things are happening in the ice world?” Her voice caught in her throat and I knew she was thinking of Frances.

  Zach’s mother forced a smile. “Such a thing is abhorrent, of course. Those snake-creatures are vile. But we are not responsible for them. You see, dear, when we have the second tome of the Speculum Nemus in our possession, we will have the knowledge to banish them. But alas, we have no such knowledge currently at our disposal. That is why it is imperative that we have the book.” She nodded her head of carefully-sculpted curls. “And that is why we need to know you are both on our side.”

  I clenched my jaw. “We will never be on your side. And we can never trust your word.”

  Pursing her lips, she sighed. “Perhaps you can trust it if you see it for yourselves. You will marry our sons without causing further friction and you will accept your fate—and you will see the serpents gone from the shores of Miami.”

  Breaths came hard in my chest. Ethan, Sophronia, Frances... they could all be safe.

  “Make us another bargain.” I tried to keep the desperation from my voice. “Something else we can do in order for the serpents to be sent away.”

  Mr. Batiste shook his head. “There is nothing else. I don’t think you quite understand. We are servants of the château and we carry out its bidding. You will marry our sons whether you wish or no. But we are making the grand gesture of giving you girls something that your hearts surely desire—safety for the people of the frozen world. Think of it as an engagement gift. In return, all we ask is that you give your assent.”

  Molly stared at me, her eyes large. Turning, she gave them a silent nod.

  Panic streamed through me. I belonged with Ethan. I couldn’t give myself to another. His eyes—his eyes were in my mind, burning bright. His words, telling me I gave him reason to keep fighting. But without the threat of the serpents, he would no longer have to fight. He wouldn’t have to face death every hour of his life. All the millions still left in the ice world, they would no longer face death. And the castle held all the cards. They would force us to marry whether we said yes or no.

  My body stiffening, I closed my eyes. “Yes.”

  * * * * />
  Lacey seated herself at the pipe organ and began to play. The mournful strains of music filled the dungeons, offering itself up to the unseen ceiling. The eyes of the guests held a dry, needling curiosity as Molly and I stepped into the center of the room. Parker and Zach walked reluctantly to our sides.

  Four goblets of red wine sat on an altar-like table. An archway strung with roses had been set up over the table. It seemed appropriate that the roses had already begun to die—to have fresh flowers in the dungeons would seem a mockery.

  The old man who had led the couplings ceremony stepped before the table. He asked that each couple drink half each of the same goblet of wine. Henry and Audette merely made the motion of drinking the wine. Emerson and Aisha stepped up next—Aisha’s eyes glazed—and drank from a goblet. Molly and I walked stiffly to the table alongside our husbands-to-be. The wine tasted old, sour—like wine that had been down here for hundreds of years.

  Zach’s fine, chiseled features were hard and unnatural above the ruffled collar of his shirt. He took my hand as we exchanged the rings they gave us. I was reminded of the day he took my hand on the beach. In the innocence of warmth and yellow sunshine, I could not have conceived the darkness lying behind his eyes, or known how he would betray me.

  My insides grew hollow. Everything happened within a blur—the faces of the people of the château disappearing into smoke and mist. My mind was far and away in the ice world, travelling over vast lands of white.

  The ceremony was done. But the people remained standing there, in hushed expectation. The corner of Zach’s mouth flickered in a nervous tic.

  I shot Zach a questioning glance.

  “Soon,” he said quietly.

  The people bowed their heads. A sound like wind blowing through dead leaves echoed around the walls. A chill snaked along my spine. The sound grew more urgent, deeper. A man’s voice. He spoke a name—a name I couldn’t quite understand. His accent was thick, the voice in whispers.

  Etienette....

  Everyone remained still like statues until the voice drifted away.

  Like a wave breaking, people began talking again, though in hushed tones.

  Glancing over my shoulder, I noticed Molly leaning over the table with both hands. A splash of blood lay on the white tablecloth beneath her.

  Rushing to her side, I handed her a cloth napkin from the table. “You’re ill again, aren’t you?”

  “No... everything the past two days has been... just too much.”

  “I know,” I whispered, bending my forehead to her shoulder. “I can’t believe they’re doing this to us.”

  “It’s harder for you. You have so much more to lose than me. You have Ethan. I have no one.”

  “No, we both lose,” I told her. “Come on, let’s get out of here. I’ll walk you back upstairs.”

  Molly dabbed at her nose with the napkin. “I’m fine. I’m going back to the room to lie down. All I need is a rest.” She showed me the napkin. “See, bleeding stopped already.”

  “I’m coming with you anyway. Just to make sure you’re okay.”

  Her face was drawn. “I’m afraid there’s not much you can do for me other than watch me sleep. Go have breakfast. Please?”

  I had to admit what I ached for right now was to get out of the castle—run outside and lose myself in the orchards. But I didn’t like us being separated. So far at least, they had allowed us to stay together. I gave her a reluctant nod and she headed away up the stairs.

  I stood stiffly by the table, my head a jagged jigsaw of images—the dungeons, blood on the tablecloth, the dying roses....

  Zach moved up alongside me. “Can we talk?”

  “I have nothing to say to you.” I turned away.

  Viola marched up, handing me an antique wooden bird. I gazed down at the object in my hands—every piece of the bird was segmented, like a puzzle you could pull apart and pull together again.

  “What’s this?” I asked her.

  Her eyes were bright, lined with heavy kohl. “It belonged to Emerson and Zach and me when we were children. Now I hand it on to your future children.” She turned a tiny handle in the bird’s side and a thin bird song warbled the notes of the old children’s song, Alouette.

  “Thank you.” My voice was cold, numb.

  “Do you know what the words to the song are about?” She raised her eyebrows.

  “No.”

  “It’s about lovers who are angry that a lark woke them from their sleep. The man tells the lark he’s going to rip everything from the lark piece by piece—the feathers, the tail, the beak, the feet. Until nothing is left....”

  “I always hated that toy,” Zach told her. “Figures it was one of your favorites.”

  She shrugged a shoulder. “I like fun. So sue me.”

  With a self-satisfied smile, she walked off.

  Relatives of Zach and Parker stared over at me, openly gossiping.

  “Please come with me,” Zach urged. “I’ll get you away from everyone.”

  I gave him a stilted nod. He led me up spiraling stairs and along hidden passageways to reach the roof of the castle. The castle was a labyrinth—only someone very familiar with it would be able to remember their way through it.

  We stepped out onto the battlement. Old stains darkened the stones beneath my feet—bloodshed from centuries of battles and war. The sun itself looked old and crimson today, bleeding down into the moors.

  Amber light washed over the tight planes of Zach’s face. “I know you don’t believe me, but if I could have done anything to stop this, I would have.”

  “Is that what you brought me up here to tell me?”

  He exhaled a low breath. “Yes. It’s all I have. I just wanted to make sure you knew. And if there’s something I can do to make this day easier for you, just tell me and I’ll do it.”

  “What am I—a child? I’ve just been forced to marry into a family that I hate with every fiber in my body. There’s nothing you can do or say to make this any easier.”

  A despaired breath ripped from his lungs. Snatching the bird puzzle from my hands, he ran to the end of the battlement. With a yell he hurled the puzzle far into the air, over the edge of the cliff. He stared back at me, his face crushed. “I know my family has been taking you apart, piece by damned piece—just like the bird. I was born to this—I’m used to their ways. But I hate watching what it’s doing to you. I swear, I’d give my life to stop them.”

  I met his eyes. “Zach, you do everything they tell you to do.”

  “Because I can’t see another way. I’m afraid that if I do something, they’ll take it out on you. I don’t want you hurt.” He turned his head away. “And maybe... you’re right. Every second of my life, I’ve had it pounded into my head that we must serve Balthazar and the castle. I’ve been shackled to this castle ever since I can remember—told that it’s my destiny to bring it to glory.”

  Fear coiled like snakes in my stomach. “That voice in the dungeons. It was Balthazar... wasn’t it?”

  His expression grew grave. “Yes. I could tell you a hundred things that were lies, but you’d know.”

  “He’s here... in the castle?”

  “He always has been.”

  “God,” I breathed. “How can you all live with such a monster?”

  Pain entered his blue eyes. “He sleeps, mostly. It’s easy to ignore the fact that he’s still here in the castle. I’ve only seen him once, and that was when I was a child.”

  “What was that name he was calling... Etienette?”

  He nodded, his eyes deadening. “Yes. She was the girl I told you about—the one he hid somewhere below the castle when the villagers came to burn everything. The girl who had his twins.”

  “What happened to her, I mean, after she had her children? Did she live here the rest of her life?”

  He gave half a nod, his eyelashes settling downward. “Yes, but the rest of her life was very short. Before the end of her fifteenth year, she ran along the top of
this battlement... and jumped.”

  I gasped. “What about her babies?”

  “Balthazar brought nursemaids here to tend the kids. That’s all I know.”

  A sickness threaded through my spine. I gazed out over the battlement, wondering what went through Etienette’s mind as she ran along this battlement and jumped to the ocean below. Were her tiny children her last thought as the dark water rushed up to her?

  A cold breeze wrapped around my bare shoulders. “Zach, is it Balthazar who controls the désorienter and the couplings? How does he do it?”

  “That I don’t know. All I know is that this castle was built on ground that was thought to be cursed. The villagers never came here. Not that there was anything here—just a rocky cliff and an ancient, dead tree—the tree he impaled people on.”

  “How was the ground cursed?”

  “Cassie,” he said desperately, “you’re asking me stuff that goes back centuries—centuries before the fourteenth century. I don’t have any answers.”

  I inhaled a lungful of briny, reddish air. “Okay, then can you answer just one more thing?”

  He set his mouth into a firm line. “Ask....”

  “How would the villagers have even come here? I mean, it’s an island.”

  His eyes showed surprise. “I didn’t know you knew that. There used to be a land bridge. Sometime in the fifteenth century, that land bridge crashed into the sea. Some say the villagers exploded it, others say it was Balthazar. And still others say it was God himself. And once it happened, Etienette would have had no way of escaping the castle, even if she’d been able to get away from Balthazar.”

  “But in the centuries after that, there must have been another way off here? Zach, you said you wanted to help me. So help me. Please, tell me how I get away from this place….”

  He leaned on the battlement wall, his head bowed. “There is no way out of here.”

  “That’s impossible. You’re lying to me,” I accused.

  His expression was tortured as he turned his face to me. “I’m not lying to you. Where do you think we are? This is the frozen world, Cassie. Your world. Beyond the ocean that surrounds the cliff, there’s nothing. Europe is just wastelands of ice. The land is frozen solid. No survivors.”