“What have you done?” he whined pitifully.
“Only what you have done to another’s heart,” I said.
“But I am within the law.”
“That is not what I hear.”
“She is a liar.”
“Then you need not fear,” I said.
When I arrived home I took my husband’s ghost doll and put it near my house in the village model. Now, now I was ready to die.
Chapter 10
Inscription on the Love dolclass="underline"
It is God’s plan that love so meant can be eternal covenant.
The next day Manal was early at his house. For days he had hauled logs. He had paced off the size of the house on the ground, and with his spade he dug a shallow hollow along two sides of that space. Into each of the hollows he rolled his biggest logs, the sills. That was when I stopped him, forbade him to do any more until a doll was made of his house. He contented himself with making notches at the ends of the logs with his ax. The villagers plied him with questions. Why would an unmarried man build a house? Which of the rumors were true about Annakey? He ignored everyone, and so they began to question his mother, Norda Bantercross. Norda also ignored them and made a great business about sewing curtains and quilts and cushions for her son’s new house.
That morning, Manal stopped sawing when Annakey came and sat down beside his house with her materials.
“Annakey.” His voice was gentle. Manal, too, was grown wise.
“Dollmage has asked me to build the doll of your house,” Annakey said. These were the first words she had spoken to him since she had discovered the Evil doll with her own hands. How strange words sounded to her, now that she no longer had the same mouth. With new eyes, the sun seemed too bright and all the birds sounded tinny and shrill. There was nothing to protect her if he said the wrong thing.
“You have already built me a house in your own valley doll,” he said. “That is the house I want.”
“Dollmage does not know. I will pretend to build a house, and then I will go fetch the other.”
“This keeps you from making your contest doll,” Manal said.
“Manal, why did you not come to the summer meadow with me?” she asked.
“I was not told you were going,” he said.
Annakey looked up. “But Renoa said she would tell you....” Then she lowered her voice. “You must not believe all the stories Areth will tell you, that others will tell you....”
“I know you.”
Annakey closed her eyes and nodded. Then she knelt and began to work with the materials she had brought. “Manal, one thing is true. It is true that I promised myself to Areth, but—”
“You love me.”
“I do.” Annakey shook her head. “He was going to ... to hurt me, and so ... I promised to... marry him.”
“Then some of the stories are true. Now I will hurt him.” Manal leapt to his feet.
Annakey put her hand on his. “If you do so, it will not help me, and it will divide and destroy our village. I will not marry Areth. I have already broken the promise in my heart. But what will I do? If I break a promise, I cannot be Dollmage. If I am not Dollmage — Manal, listen — I cannot keep my first promise to be happy. Manal, what have I done?”
Manal was silent for a time, gathering himself.
“We will run away,” he said. “You will be my Dollmage.”
Annakey shook her head. “What of my promise to save the village from the robber people?”
Manal thought for a moment, and then said, “I, too, am a man of his promise, and I have promised myself to you, Annakey. That is all that is clear to me now. It is you I will love, whether you are married to me or not, and it is for you I build this house, whether you live in it or not.”
“I will make it right, Manal. I will make your house and a story for it.”
The two began to work in silence then. It was enough to know that the other was near. When it was time to eat, Manal brought her food. They were eating when Areth came by.
“What is this?” he asked.
Annakey felt a worm in her stomach, seeing Areth again. “Dollmage set me to make a doll of Manal’s new house,” she said.
“You will not eat with another man when you are promised to me,” Areth said.
Annakey stood. I will not tell you what Manal’s expression was at that moment. I will tell you that Areth wanted to walk away from it, and he did. Annakey gestured to Manal to stay behind, then caught up with Areth, the bread still in her hand.
“I do not want you to eat his food,” Areth said.
She took a bite and chewed and swallowed. “Areth, I have something to say to you.”
“You told Dollmage,” he said. He held up his slashed promise doll. “This is what she did to me.” He turned and walked away, and Annakey followed. He turned to her and said, “Why do you follow me?”
“I must speak to you.”
“Go away. I cannot bear the sight of you.”
“Areth,” she said, “does that mean you release me from my promise?”
He laughed, his eyes as hard as those of the War doll. “I do not release you.”
“But you do not love me.”
“No. I hate you. The sight of you makes me sick.”
“Once, we were friends,” she said.
“Do not use your gentle ways with me,” he said, and his hand fisted. “You have hurt me. I know you now to be evil. If I find you again with Manal, I will kill you.”
Annakey stood shaking, her lips gray. “I will tell Dollmage you threatened to kill me. She will find a way to release me from my promise.”
“I will deny what I have said.”
“You would lie?”
“You would break your promise to me? Who possesses the greater evil, Annakey? I have known, perhaps since we were children together, that you were a promise breaker.” His voice was rising, and the muscles in his neck protruded.
“Then you do not know me.”
“I know you. I know you better than Manal knows you. I know your heart to be evil.”
“Let me go then, Areth.”
He slapped her face. “You have promised yourself to me, and you belong to me. I have told the whole village. Now, go away from me.”
Annakey stepped back. The blood in her heart was black. “I followed you to tell you I will not marry you,” she said, her voice shaking.
Areth’s lips were gray. “Then my mother spoke true when she said you would break your promise?”
“I have already,” Annakey said, gasping. “I will never marry you. Tell whom you will. I would rather die.”
Annakey ran hard to her secret place beside the rushy river, to fetch the true doll of Manals house. First, she listened to the river shushing her heart. She began to touch the pale green clay in the river shallows.
On the great, flat rock was her valley doll, and in it, her village doll. She had made the valley over and over, striving to get it right. She had made it in fall, the fog knee-deep in the golden wood, the berries glossy on the bush. She had made the valley in winter, the snows deep to the tree trunks, the green mosses turned to gray. Now, however, as she looked at it in its spring, she saw that it was still not quite Seekvalley. It was different — a distortion. She could gather no happiness from it, seeing that it was wrong. What could she have been thinking? Had she no eye to see? It did not occur to Annakey that she was taking the story of the village entirely from me. She did not think it was good enough.
She could not work on it today She leaned over the river and took from its bottom more of the smooth, green clay. She began to fashion the doll of a bear. When Annakey finished the doll of the bear, she made a wildcat. After a time she breathed deeply, and smiled just a little. Enough to keep her first promise. She knew what she would do to save her people.