“She seized his cock.”
Marie-Josèphe tried to be offended. Instead, she giggled. “On the stairway. How do you know these words, Odelette? You never knew them in Martinique.”
“From the convent, of course.” Odelette jumped into bed and pulled the covers up to her chin. “From Mother Superior.”
10
The sea monster’s eerie plaintive song filled the moonlit gardens. Marie-Josèphe hurried along the Green Carpet. She hugged Lorraine’s cloak close against the chill and damp. The wolf fur warmed her, and it smelled of Lorraine’s musky scent, the scent Monsieur had also offered her.
She wished she were a great lady who could order a coach to take her here and there, or a rich one who could afford to keep a horse. She liked to walk in the gardens, but the hour was late and the night was chilly, and she still had so much to do.
She laughed aloud in wonder that she was living at the center of the world.
And I’ve begun to train the sea monster, she thought. If I have a few days, I might be able to train it to keep silent when His Majesty next sees it. But if His Majesty delays the dissection for those few days, the male sea monster will decompose, and all the training will be for nothing.
Marie-Josèphe’s lantern swung. A wild shadow dance sprang from her feet. She skipped. The shadow leaped, its cape flying in the beautiful night.
I shall have to work on the sketches later, Marie-Josèphe thought. A few hours—
But the moon, almost three-quarters full, had fallen halfway to the horizon. The night was half over.
Before her the tent glowed faintly; across the garden, near the Fountain of Neptune, torches flickered as gardeners set out potted flowers in great drifts, keeping the gardens beautiful for His Majesty.
A dark-lantern flashed open, blinding her with its light. Marie-Josèphe jumped, startled and frightened.
“Who goes there?”
“Mlle de la Croix,” she said, amused by her fear of the sea monster’s guards. “Come to feed the sea monster.” She held up her lantern, beaming its light, in turn, into the musketeer’s eyes.
The dark-lantern rotated, spilling its light between them. Marie-Josèphe lowered her lantern. The light cast a long shadow behind the musketeer and illuminated his face, demonically, from below.
“Do you have authorization to enter?”
“Of course I do—my brother’s.”
“In writing?”
She laughed. Yet he barred her way, standing before the entry.
Inside the tent, the sea monster whistled and growled.
“Father de la Croix said, Let no one enter.”
“He didn’t mean me,” Marie-Josèphe said.
“He said, No one.”
“But I am no one. He’s the head of our family—why would he think to separate himself from me?”
“What you say is true.” The musketeer stood aside. “Be cautious, mamselle. If it isn’t a demon—and I don’t say it isn’t—it is angry.”
She entered the tent, grateful not to have to climb the hill and call Yves from his bed to vouch for her. Shutting her lantern so she would not frighten the sea monster, Marie-Josèphe paused to let her eyes adjust. A pale blur loomed nearby: New screens of heavy white silk woven with gold sunbursts and fleurs de lys shielded the dissection table from the live sea monster’s sight. The white and the gold glimmered.
Marie-Josèphe unlocked the sea monster’s cage. Small fish swam and splashed in a jug of sea water. A strange, faint glow suffused the Fountain. Could Yves have left a lit candle on the stairs, reflecting from the water?
“Sea monster?” Marie-Josèphe whispered. “It’s only me, come to give you some supper.”
Ripples spread across the pool. Marie-Josèphe caught her breath.
The ripples glowed with eerie phosphorescence. The glow spread. The luminescence reflected from the gilt of Apollo’s dolphins and tritons.
In Fort de France, on Martinique, the ocean glowed like this. The barrels must have captured glowing sea water, and brought it to Versailles.
“Sea monster?” Marie-Josèphe hummed a melody the sea monster had sung. She wondered if the songs of sea monsters had any meaning, like the cries and yowls of her cat Hercules.
Perhaps I’m saying, I’m glad to be out of the awful gold basin, the awful canvas, Marie-Josèphe thought. That would be very confusing for the poor sea monster.
She sat on the edge of the fountain and hummed a different melody.
A wake like a shining arrow flowed toward Marie-Josèphe. The sea monster swam to the platform, her tails undulating gently, only her eyes and hair revealed above the surface. Marie-Josèphe sat on the lowest step, her feet on the wet platform, and held out a fish to the captive creature.
Shall I hold tight to the fish? she wondered. No, if I force the sea monster to stay near, I’m likely to frighten it.
Instead of snatching the fish and thrashing away into the darkness, the sea monster swam very close, turned, and swept past beneath Marie-Josèphe’s hand. The pressure of the water stroked her skin.
“Sea monster, aren’t you hungry?”
The sea monster surfaced an armslength away.
“Fishhhh,” she said.
“Yes, exactly, fish!”
The sea monster dove again. Marie-Josèphe sat very still, her fingers growing numb in the cold water.
Beneath the glowing surface of the pool, the sea monster’s dark shape rose beneath her hand. The sea monster, floating face-up, gazed at her through luminescent ripples and placed her webbed claws directly beneath Marie-Josèphe’s fingers.
Marie-Josèphe released the fish into the sea monster’s grasp.
The sea monster rolled, stroking her arm along Marie-Josèphe’s palm. Her warmth radiated against Marie-Josèphe’s skin. Marie-Josèphe laid her hand on the creature’s back, as if she were gentling a colt.
The sea monster trembled.
“There’s nothing to be afraid of.” Marie-Josèphe did not like to lie, even to a creature.
Floating face-down, the sea monster quieted beneath her touch.
Marie-Josèphe smoothed one lock, then another, of the creature’s dark green hair. The glossy strands lay across the sea monster’s skin, iridescent black in the faint light. The sea monster hummed, like a cat who purred in song. Marie-Josèphe picked up a third strand of hair. The tangle would not straighten, for the hair was knotted.
The sea monster rolled over again, drawing the tangled strand from Marie-Josèphe’s grasp. Floating on her back, she neatly bit off the fish’s head, munched it, ate the other half. Her double tail fanned the water beside Marie-Josèphe’s foot. Marie-Josèphe bent to look more closely. The tails were nothing like fish tails, and not much like seal fins. Darker, thicker skin covered the sea monster from pelvis downward. A mat of dark-green hair covered her female parts. The upper bones of her tails were rather short, the lower bones longer, with powerful muscles front and back. The joint between them bent both ways. The joint connecting long lower bones to large feet resembled Marie-Josèphe’s wrist. The feet ended in long, webbed toes and wickedly powerful claws.
The sea monster used one toe to flick a drop of water toward Marie-Josèphe’s face. It spattered her cheek and dribbled down her face.
“Don’t splash me, sea monster,” she said. “I already ruined one gown in your pool, and I cannot afford another. Come, leave off playing. Eat another fish. I have so much to do, I must hurry.” Her stomach growled. The squabs were very long ago and very small. She smiled at the sea monster. “You’re lucky, you know—I wish someone would bring me a fish to eat!”