23
No? screamed and struggled for her balance when she saw them return with the Devil in tow, quite nearly hanging herself by accident. The Quatre Mains puppets turned as one to witness the Devil’s entrance, a demonic grin across his face, his forked tail wagging like a hound’s. They forgot all about No?’s threatened suicide and rushed to welcome him home with astonished embraces. Wrapping his arms around the Devil’s belly, Mr. Firkin lifted him atop the corncrib to be more easily applauded and admired. During the homecoming, No? stepped out from under the noose and cornered her friends.
“So he’s been hiding this whole time?”
“Not hiding,” the Good Fairy said. “Playing the diplomat. Winning us new friends. You’ll be so happy when you meet them all.”
Turning her back on the celebrations, No? was determined to find answers. “What about the front door? Was it locked? Did someone come for us?”
“In all the excitement, I nearly forgot,” the Good Fairy said. “There was nobody at the door.”
Kay whispered in her friend’s ear. “But we left it unlocked. Just in case.”
To stop the little dog from whimpering and pestering, the Devil scooped him up in one hand, and for his troubles, he was nearly licked to death. He handed the beast over to Nix as the puppets gathered round for the sermon.
“Ladies and gentlemen”—he bowed to the Queen—“Your Majesty. I come back from the dead with great news. The others are us. Or should I say we are the others. Or there are no others, only us.”
“But they tried to kill you,” said the Old Hag. “We all heard the screams that night. It was a most horrible noise, and you were surely unmade or near death throes.”
“Nothing of the sort, madam.”
“Was so, was so,” Nix insisted. “Never heard nothing like it in my life.”
“What you heard were shouts of joy and astonishment. There are great wonders and enchantments in other rooms. Ask your friends the Good Fairy and Kay.”
Commanding silence, the Queen rose to her full height and paced back and forth, casting a pall over the whole room, everyone anxious over her reaction to the Devil’s story. She was thinking, never a good sign. Tucking his hands behind his back, Mr. Firkin trailed her footsteps, a look of great consternation on his face, as the little dog bounced along at their feet.
“We are not amused,” the Queen said at last. “Not amused in the slightest. First, Devil, you left our person without permission, without so much as a by-your-leave, and made yourself absent these several nights, bringing grief and consternation to us all. We thought you had perished, my dear friend, at the hands of the others. But rather, you were on a spree. And were discourteous enough not to let us know your whereabouts or of your general health and well-being.”
The Devil hung his head contritely.
“Second, and I see now what rogues you are, the three of you—No? and Kay I understand, but you, too, Good Fairy? The three of you conspired and colluded to fashion this most distasteful ruse. That you would concoct a hanging, not even as a mere public execution but as a diversion so that you conspirators could sneak away to search for the Devil here—”
“That’s not what happened,” Kay interrupted. “We heard a noise at the door and—”
“Silence!” The Queen stomped her foot. From the cellar came a horrible yawn, a growling lip-smacking groan as the Worm awoke from its sleep and slithered in its tight compartment, banging its body on the side walls. Nix dropped to his knees and looked through the cracks.
“Now you’ve gone and done it,” he said. “The thing’s awake.”
Mr. Firkin reached for an old shovel and banged the blunt end three times on the floor. “You needn’t worry about the Worm. Just restless. He’s totally harmless and can be trained like a dog if you show him who is boss.”
Pressing her hand to her brow, the Queen shook her head. “Enough of these constant interruptions. What, pray tell, am I to do with the lot of you?”
“Begging your pardon,” said the Devil. “We have been invited to a fête tonight. In our honor, up in the loft. You will have the chance to meet the other puppets and see for yourself that we have absolutely nothing to fear. Why, the Original himself extended the invitation—”
“Enough!” cried the Queen. “No more. There will be no celebration, and I forbid each and all to leave this room without my express permission.”
“But I assure Your Majesty, I assure you all. You have my word. This is but a kindness, a way to meet the neighbors and join the company of puppets in the museum.”
“How do we know this is not some other plot and fancy? No, I say, I forbid it. And I’ll not have another word on the subject.”