The Moon and the Sun (8 page)

believed

in God,

and in

angels,

so how

could

she not

believe

in Satan

and

demons

? — but

she

thought,

in these

modern

days,

demons

did not

often

choose

to visit

the

earthly

world.

Even if

they

did,

why

should a

demon

visit a

sea

monster,

any

more

than it

would

visit His

Majesty’

s

elephant

or His

Majesty’

s

baboons

?

Mar

ie-Josèp

he

giggled,

thinking

of a

demon

on a

picnic in

His

Majesty’

s

Menage

rie.

Her

laughter

brought

her to

Yves’

attentio

n.

“W

hat are

you

laughin

g at?” he

said.

“You

should

be in

bed.”

“I

wish I

were,”

Marie-Jo

sèphe

said.

“Su

perstitio

us

fools,”

Yves

muttere

d.

“Demon

s,

indeed.”

The

torchlig

ht

reflected

from a

splash

of water

on the

polishe

d

planks.

“Yv

es —”

A

watery

trail led

from the

fountain

to the

cluster

of lab

equipm

ent. The

gate of

the cage

hung

open.

Yve

s cursed

and

hurried

to the

dissecti

on table.

Marie-Jo

sèphe

ran into

the

cage.

The

sea

monster

floated a

few

strokes

from the

platform

, its hair

spreadi

ng

around

its

shoulde

rs. Its

eyes

reflected

the

torchlig

ht,

uncanny

as a

cat’s. It

humme

d softly,

eerily.

“Yv

es, it’s

here, it’s

safe, it’s

all

right.”

“Sta

y there

—

There’s

broken

glass.

Are you

barefoot

?”

“Ar

e you?”

Sha

rds of

glass

flung

sharp

sounds

as Yves

swept

them

into a

pile.

“M

y feet

are like

leather

— we

never

wore

shoes on

the

galleon.

”

He

joined

her in

the cage,

holding

the torch

out over

the

water. A

spark

fell and

sizzled.

The sea

monster

spat at

it,

whistled

angrily,

and

dove.

“It

slithere

d

around

out

here. It

climbed

the

stairs! I

didn’t

think it

could

make

progress

on land.

It

knocked

a flask

over, it

fled

back to

the

fountain

... I must

have left

the gate

ajar.”

“Yo

u tested

it,”

Marie-Jo

sèphe

said.

“You

latched

it and

rattled

it.”

He

shrugge

d. “I

couldn’t

have.

Tomorr

ow I’ll

get a

chain.”

Yve

s sat

abruptly

. He

slumpe

d

forward,

his head

down,

hair

hanging

in

rumple

d black

curls.

Marie-Jo

sèphe

snatche

d the

torch

before it

fell.

Concern

ed, she

sat

beside

her

brother

and put

her arm

around

his

shoulde

r.

He

patted

her

hand.

“I’m

only

tired,”

he said.

“Yo

u work

so

hard,”

Marie-Jo

sèphe

said.

“Let me

help

you.”

“Th

at

wouldn’

t be

proper.”

“I

was a

good

assistant

when

we were

children

— I’m

no less

able

now.”

She

feared

he

would

refuse,

and that

would

be the

end of

it. I no

longer

know

my

brother,

she

thought,

distress

ed. I no

longer

know

what

he’ll

say,

what

he’ll do,

before

he

knows it

himself.

He

raised

his

head,

frowned

,

hesitate

d.

“What

about

your

duties

to

Madem

oiselle?”

Mar

ie-Josèp

he

giggled.

“Someti

mes I

hold her

handker

chief, if

Mlle

d’Arma

gnac

doesn’t

snatch it

first.

She’d

hardly

notice I

was

gone. I

need

only tell

her you

need me

— so

your

work

might

please

the

King...”

His

brow

cleared.

“I’d be

grateful

for your

help.

You

haven’t

become

squeami

sh, have

you?”

“Sq

ueamish

!” She

laughed

.

“Wi

ll you

docume

nt the

dissecti

on?”

“I’d

like

nothing

better.”

“Th

e

dissecti

on will

occupy

my

time.

Will

you take

the

charge

of the

live sea

monster

? Feed it

—”

“Ye

s. And

I’ll tame

it, too.”

“Yo

u’ll

need all

your

ingenuit

y to

persuad

e it to

eat.” His

beautifu

l smile

erased

the

exhausti

on from

his face.

“I’m

certain

you’ll

succeed.

You

were

better

with the

live

things

than I

ever

was.”

Deli

ghted to

be part

of his

life, part

of his

work,

once

again,

Marie-Jo

sèphe

kissed

his

cheek.

Ya

wning,

he

pushed

himself

to his

feet.

“There’s

time

still for

a bit of

sleep.”

His

smile

turned

wry.

“Not

even the

Jesuits

reconcil

ed me to

waking

early.”

“I’ll

take that

duty,

too,”

Marie-Jo

sèphe

said.

“I’ll

wake

you in

time to

attend

the

King.”

“Th

at

would

be a

consider

able

kindnes

s,” Yves

said.

He

ushered

Marie-Jo

sèphe

out of

the cage,

closed

the gate,

and

latched

it and

rattled it

just as

he had

done

earlier

in the

evening.

The sea

monster’

s lament

followe

d them.

“Oh

!”

Marie-Jo

sèphe

jumped

back

from

somethi

ng cold

and

slimy

beneath

her

foot.

“W

hat is it

— did

you step

on

glass?”

She

picked

up a

dead

fish.

“Yo

ur sea

monster

doesn’t

like its

fish.”

4

Marie-Josèphe walked through the silent dawn gardens of Versailles. At first light, the gardeners had vanished but the courtiers still slept and the visitors had not yet arrived.

She was alone in the beauty, surrounded by flowers, perfumed by a cloud of orange perfume.

She strode down the Green Carpet toward Apollo, planning her day. She would feed the sea monster, then return to the chateau in plenty of time to wake Yves and break their fast with bread and chocolate. He would attend His Majesty’s awakening.

She could not accompany him, because women did not participate in the grand lever.

Instead, she would wait for him in the guard room with the other ladies and the less-favored men, and join the procession to Mass.

The morning delighted her. The world delighted her. When she kicked a small stone down the path, she thought, with a few strokes of my pen, with a calculation, I can describe the motion of its rise and fall. I can predict its effect on the next stone, and the next. M. Newton’s discoveries allow me to describe anything I wish, even the future paths of the stars and the planets. And now that I am free of the convent, no one will forbid me to do so.

A breeze rustled the leaves of the potted orange trees. Marie-Josèphe considered how to predict the fluttering motion, and though the solution eluded her for the moment, she felt certain she could discover it with some time and consideration.

M. Newton must have solved such a simple problem, she thought. Dare I write to him again? Would he bother to reply at all, when he condescended to communicate with me once, and I failed to answer? I wish I had seen the contents of his letter.

The chateau of Versailles stood on a low hill; the Green Carpet led downward to the sea monster’s tent.

A much easier walk than last night! she thought. She wore her riding habit, more practical and easier to walk in than court dress.

As she neared the laboratory tent, a half-dozen heavy wagons rumbled along the Queen’s Road toward the fountain. Barrels weighed each one down.

Count Lucien cantered his grey Arabian past the wagons. The fiery horse scattered gravel from its hooves, flicked its jaunty black tail, and drew up beside the tent. Count Lucien saluted Marie-Josèphe with his walking stick. Under his supervision, the workmen raised the tent’s sides and the drivers lined up the wagons.

Marie-Josèphe entered the tent, unlatched the cage door, and hurried in. From the Fountain’s rim, she sought the sea monster.

The creature’s long dark hair and iridescent leathery tails shimmered beneath the hooves of Apollo’s dawn horses.

“Sea monster!”

The creature flicked its tails, pushing itself deeper beneath the sculpture.

Marie-Josèphe reached for a fish, then thought better of it. The ice had melted around the basket, and the dead things reeked.

“Lackey!”

Unlike the sea monster, the lackey came running, pulling his forelock and keeping his gaze on the ground.

“Yes, mamselle?”

“Get rid of those smelly things. Where are the fresh fish? And the new ice?”

“Coming along from the kitchen, mamselle, here, just now.” He pointed. Several men approached, one with a wicker basket, two others pushing barrows full of ice.

“Good. Thank you.”

He bobbed a bow and ran to hurry the others along. They set a wicker basket of fish inside the cage, then went to work shovelling fresh ice onto Yves’ specimen.

Marie-Josèphe ran over the rim of the Fountain and down to the platform. The sea monster had not tried to escape a second time, for the planks were dry.

It must be terrified, Marie-Josèphe thought, sighing. Frightened animals are so hard to train.

She splashed the water with one hand, patting the surface as she would pat her bedcovers to call Hercules.

“Come, sea monster. Come here.”

The sea monster watched her from beneath the dawn chariot.

Marie-Josèphe swished a fish through the water. The sea monster raised her head, opened her mouth, and let the water flow over her tongue.

“Yes, good sea monster. Come, I’ll give you a fish.”

The sea monster spat the water noisily into the pool.