The Dollmage

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.

There was no time now. She had to return with the doll of Manals house and report to me. Just before she left, she saw something floating in the river. It floated into the quiet little bay at her feet.

It was the Evil doll she had made and left buried in leaves at the summer meadow.

The worm in her stomach twisted again. A spider in her head tickled her brain. How did the Evil doll come here? Did one of the sheepdogs pick it up and drop it into the river? Her arms were stiff as sticks as she watched it bobbing in the water. Finally, she reached down and picked it up.

She carried the doll of Manal’s house and the Evil doll into the tame parts of the valley.

She buried the Evil doll in Fatbarley’s field.

Then she went to Manal’s house and set about improving upon the doll of it. She did not see Manal watching her, stopping his work to look at her. She was trying to forget the drowned face of the Evil doll by working hard. She built the chimney strong and safe, and the floors without creaks. She made the doors solid against the winter winds, and stone walls cool against the summer heat. I tell you that she tried to build a place for her soul to hide.

It did not work.

Renoa came to her as twilight was coming on.

“I have almost finished my contest doll,” she said. “And you?”

“I have not begun yet,” Annakey said. “First light, I will begin.”

“Are you sure this is not your attempt?” Renoa asked.

In her hands was the Evil doll.

“How did you—?”

“A pig dug it up in Fatbarley’s field and deposited at the door of his house. He took it as an omen. I know you made it. Who else could make such a monstrosity? I am going to show Dollmage.”

“No, Renoa, please.”

“When Dollmage and the villagers see this, there will no longer be any need for a contest.”

Annakey put her hands on either side of her head.The spider in her head was making her imagine pushing Renoa.

Manal approached the girls, sweating from his work.

“Look what Annakey has done,” Renoa said to him. “Are you sure you want her making your house?”

Annakey stood. She could not look at Manal for fear that there would be disappointment in his eyes.

“The doll is you, Renoa,” Manal said. “I see a resemblance.”

Renoa glared and grabbed Annakey’s arm. “We are going to see Dollmage.”

“I can explain,” Annakey said, pulling back.

“Explain to Dollmage,” she said.

They both came to my house, but I was asleep.

“Stay here the night,” Renoa said to Annakey. “At first light we must show Dollmage what you have done.”

When Renoa was asleep, Annakey took the doll to the village bakery oven. She threw the doll into the bottom of the oven below the grills, and closed the door.

In the morning there came a desperate knocking at my door, waking me. It was Deen Highchimney.

“Come to my house, Dollmage. My wife is hysterical.”

Prim Highchimney had been on the verge of hysteria ever since she had finally become pregnant after five years of marriage. Every tiny thing made her weep. I was still too sleepy to wonder why Annakey was in my kitchen peeling rutabagas. Renoa was still asleep. I nodded to Annakey. “Go. See what Prim weeps over this time. If it is a great thing, come for me and I will deal with it. I suspect she needs comforting only.”

Annakey went.

At the Highchimneys’ door, Prim stood trembling. In her hands was a large loaf of bread, broken open. In the bread was the Evil doll.

“I was going into the mountain today to pray for my child that has not been born,” she said. “As I prepared a meal to bring, I found this. God is telling me I am going to have an ugly baby, a monster child.”

Annakey snatched up the Evil doll.The Evil doll was more hideous even than before. The fire had burned into the face what could be taken as eyes and a mouth.