The Motion of Puppets(76)

“Holy shit, so she’s alive, too? Just resting her eyes?”

With a jerk of his arms, Firkin tamped down the loose talk. He whispered, “If you know what is good for you, you’ll not wake her. Best to let sleeping monarchs lie. Why have you come, Theo Harper? Are you a puppeteer?”

He brushed aside the question. “Are there others here? Others like you who can walk and talk like they’re alive?”

“Others? There are many others.”

“I’ve come about just one. My wife, Kay.”

At the mention of the name, the Queen opened her plate-sized eyes and looked directly at him. She drew in her knees and pushed up off the ground, rising slowly to her full ten feet. The top of her head nearly grazed the ceiling as she lurched forward. Each step of her stiff-legged gait required considerable effort, and Theo saw her walk like the stop time of a Muybridge sequence, a series of still images, fluid and static simultaneously. He could outrun her if need be, if she meant him some harm, but her face displayed curiosity rather than fear or malice. Firkin laid a heavy hand on Theo’s shoulder, encouraging him to stay put. Just steps away, she stopped, towering over them and swaying like a tree in the wind.

“There is no Kay Harper here,” she said. “And you should not be here either. Get out while you can.”

“But I saw her,” he said. “In the Halloween parade. And I saw you and this roly-poly man and several others besides. So you won’t mind if I have a look around for her?”

The Queen squared her shoulders and flared out her robes to make herself as large as possible. “I most certainly do mind. You have no business in this place. Be gone, and forget what you have seen here.”

“You heard her, friend,” Firkin said. “There’ll be no second chances. Go, and say nothing of what you witnessed in this place.”

“You don’t scare me. My friends will soon be here. Matter of fact, there’s a man coming right now through the cellar.”

“Oh dear,” Mr. Firkin said. “I wonder how he’ll pass the Worm. He may well be detained longer than any of us expect.”

From the floor above came the sound of music and dancing, so raucous that the miniature puppets above their head began to swing in the air, revealing the old faces from Québec. He knew Kay must be upstairs and took a step toward the exit.

“What do you think you are doing?” the Queen asked. “Let’s say she is here, for the sake of argument. Let’s say you can find her somehow. Do you think you can just waltz in and take her away? And what would you do anyway with a puppet? She would not be who you remembered. She would not be as she was before. No, go home while you have the chance. If you persist in this folly, there is nothing I can do for you.”

“But I love her,” Theo said. “I miss her. She is the other voice in my head. Blood in my heart, song in my brain. You have no right to take her away. I’ve looked for her every day, and now that I am so close to finding her. I won’t be stopped. Not even if she has become someone else. Even a puppet.”

Mr. Firkin shuffled his feet in the sawdust. “You had better forget her, chum. Nothing to be done. So sorry for your loss.”

The Queen fell to her knees and sat back on her heels to face Theo. Her shoulders slumped and she folded her hands in her lap. “Am I growing soft? Have I lost the iron will I once enjoyed when we few were in the Back Room? My size, I fear, has only heightened my sympathy. Much better for a queen to have a cold heart. Is there nothing I can say to you, dear man, to convince you otherwise? The world, if given time, will break your heart, but the heart will heal with time to be in the world again.” The Queen lifted her hands to hold his face. She felt like a mother, he felt like a child.

“I need to find her and, if possible, to take her back with me. My wife is a real person, a human being. If there is a way to make her whole again, please tell me.”

“Kay is here, but first, you’ll have to find her. The way is not that difficult, just keep turning to the right till you find the stairs. But I cannot say what, if anything, lurks in the rooms along the way. There are puppets about, strange creatures over whom I hold no influence. And then you will have to get past all the others who have no wish to see Kay go. They would recognize you, of course, in your current form, as a man. So a costume is in order, though even the best mask will not hide your true identity for long.”

She brushed the ghostly puppets hanging on their strings. “Simple is best, under the circumstances. You will need to act quickly. They are distracted by their revels, so you may be able to fool them as a ghost.”

Mr. Firkin interjected, “There may be some spare muslin about, and you’ll need a cloak over those clothes.”

“If,” the Queen said, “if you can manage to avoid detection, you will have to be cunning and not alarm her. Convince her who you are, and, even so, she may not wish to leave. There are others who may want to go with you.”

“No?, for one—”

“Thank you, Firkin. Others who would be more than happy to attempt escape. But you may need to assure Kay of your love and get her to believe that life—her old life—is possible beyond these walls.”

Theo brightened. “I have faith enough for both of us.”

“You may need it,” said the Queen. “There are two exits. You could try to retrace your steps to the front door, but the others will surely notice and you may not get very far. The better choice is through a hole in the wall, up by the silo somewhere, I reckon. I’m afraid I cannot be more specific, as I’ve not seen it from the inside for myself. But I know it is there. I saw it from the outside when we arrived, and the wind blows through it on certain nights. You’ll have to plan your route before you go. Speed will be of the essence. Once they notice you are trying to flee, the others will come after you and quickly.”