The Good Fairy stood up to speak, and Mr. Firkin lifted the shovel over his head. “One more word out of you,” he said, “and you’ll be kindling. You heard the Queen. It is forbidden.”
The threat of violence chastened them all, and they returned to their places. Nix picked up three balls and commenced juggling. The Three Sisters retired to the trough and swooned. Visibly shaken, the Queen sought the counsel of Mr. Firkin in a private spot.
Under the miniature puppets dangling from the crossbeams, the conspirators huddled together as far away as possible, given the tiny confines. The Devil sat on his tail and wrenched it from under his legs. No? fought the temptation to play with her new hair, but the Good Fairy was stolid as a tree. They said nothing at first, pretending to sulk, but Kay could see in her friends’ eyes the determination to thwart the royal edict.
“The Queen has gone too far this time,” the Devil said. “Does the power reside in the monarch or in the people?”
“Ever since you’ve come to Vermont,” the Good Fairy said, “you’ve become a regular socialist.”
“When in Rome…” He smiled and stroked his beard. “We must convince the others to stand up to them, to go with us, then old Firkin won’t be able to use his scare tactics.”
Kay pointed to the Queen on her throne and Firkin whispering in her ear. “You won’t persuade those two. Or Nix, either—he does what the fat man asks. And I don’t think the Old Hag is brave enough to join the cause. That makes four for them, and four for us.”
“What about the Three Sisters?” the Good Fairy asked. “They seem too dissolute to care about politics one way or another.”
The Devil tapped his horny nails together. “You must give the voters a reason to vote. Leave it to me.”
World-weary, trapped in their sense of life as a gray and dismal condition which must be endured, the Sisters lay in deep and listless indolence. The Devil crept into their boudoir.
“Old chort.” Olya barely lifted her head. “So heppy to see you again, dahlink.”
“Mesdames, you are looking well. Beautiful Olya, elegant Masha, and ravishing Irina.”
Sighing, they sat up to hear his flattery.
“We are planning a revolution. Join the masses and we’ll be seven to four. Five if you count the Dog, though I’m not sure he is a radical. I want to take you out of this place. Some music, some dancing. A little romance, perhaps?”
Fluffing her cottony hair, Irina sat up straighter.
“There’s a bunch of Russian dissidents. Refuseniks. They haven’t seen one of their countrywomen in ages.”
While the younger two responded with interest to the news, Olya frowned.
“There are others, darling,” said the Devil. “A samurai, perhaps? A pair of young and foolish men who like to swap lovers. And there are many more puppets besides, up in the loft.”
“I will go,” Olya said. “Not for some man but for the sake of freedom and revolution.”
The conspiracy of puppets marched to the other side of the room to confront the Queen. She wobbled and nearly fainted when they told her they were going to the loft and that they would not, could not be stopped. When Mr. Firkin reached for his shovel, he was stopped by the iron grip of the Devil’s left hand.
“This is treason. Unhand me, imp.”
The Queen waved him aside with an imperial flutter. She shook her head sadly. “I suppose this day was inevitable, what with such sedition all around. But you should know that I act only in the interests of my people. Yes, it may seem a perfectly charming invitation, and we ourselves have been yearning for some new company, new conversation, for some time. But the rules are made for your protection. You will remember that we did not consort with the Original back at the toy shop. He in the Front Room, and we in the Back Room. It was better that way. Safer from his unpredictable nature.”
The puppets gathered at the door into the dark.
The Queen abdicated her power. “Go, if you must, but take heed you are not tempted to lose your place or forget your roles. We are as we are and have been long before we came to this … barn. Always behave with your integrity and pedigree intact. As puppets of the Quatre Mains.”
Nix set down his juggling balls and groveled at her feet. “I should like to go as well, Your Highness.”
“Where are we going?” the Old Hag hollered and lifted the fan of her hand to her ear.
As the Queen and her lackey Mr. Firkin sat together forlornly in the empty halls, the others set off for the celebration. Even the Dog joined the Devil’s entourage. They had just rounded the corner to the vestibule on their way to the stairs when a loud croaking sigh seeped through the floorboards, followed by a bang on the walls below as the Worm twitched in its lair.