Chapter One
Piper awoke on the hard stone floor, her long white dress gathered up around her. As she slowly rose her head, her dark hair fell away from her face and started an avalanche of fine dust. Piles of dust had accumulated on the backs of her shoulders as she slept, and continued to settle in the air now like a morning dew. As she blinked fine piles fell from her eyelids.
She moved absentmindedly to rub the sleep from her eyes, raising her right hand gently in a lose fist when abruptly it was yanked back. Piper's hand stopped rib-high and pulled firmly against the leather belted restraint. The dull clatter of a heavy chain shifting slightly echoed across the room. She didn't even bother to look down at her red, bruised hand, which was still pulling against its restraints, helplessly trying to complete the motion. She continued to stare off into the distance listlessly. A rat scampered by somewhere above, knocking a pebble through the ceiling along with more dust which poured into the room in a fine stream. The dust dispersed in the air forming fresh clouds; the rock fell, too and struck the ground sharply at the same time. The image of thunderstorms played in her head.
Piper's hand dropped to her lap, unbeknownst to her, causing the dunes of sand in her dress to reorder themselves, slightly more dust now coming to rest in one fold than before. Her dress was full and made of layer after layer of thin draping fabric, starched with dust. Each swath reaching down to the ground in a deep swoop then came back up, fastened at her waist in a heavy skirt. Her boddice kept the same draped style, with two elegant swans neck swoops across her chest and over either shoulder. The sleeves of her dress were long and white and had full, deeply pleated shoulders. The fabric faded to lace as it continued down her arms and tapered stiffly at the wrists. Her cufflinks, however, were long gone, and so the cuffs hung loosely open, accommodating the thick leather bracelets that hung over her hands. Her cold pale hands complemented the costume beautifully, extending the lines of the dress to the tips of her fingertips. She was perfect, like a porcelain doll, save for the raw redness painted on her skin around the leather cuffs, and the thin red cuts on her palms.
She turned her neck to look sideways over her shoulder, toward the western hall. Two halls entered the room in which she sat, one from the east and one from the west. But in the permanent, all-encompassing dim of the dungeon, she only just made out their arched stone doorways from across the room. Her head, burdensome, rested sideways on her own shoulder and she squeezed her eyelids together as tightly as she could then released them. She knew her eyes were badly damaged now, from the prolonged darkness and from the constant scraping of the dust beneath her eyelids. She hoped to clear her mind more than her eyes, in this case, but she felt heavy and tired. In a manual motion she squinted and raised and lowered her eyebrows, for the sake of her sight. She altered the light and shadow to make out the start of the hall in the dusty air. The walls were made of large brown slabs, smooth underneath the layer of grime that covered stone after stone, all the way down, like a second layer of grout. Its southern facing wall was marked at regular intervals by the stone-filled egresses of old windows, but they were solidly paved over. The tall curved ceiling, bare of any lights, continued at its height as far as she had ever been, but she had no idea what lay on the other side of the hall. And the eastern hallway to her right she knew was much the same. She lolled her head over to the other side now, rolling her neck and letting her head rest on her right shoulder with a cheek pressed against the cloud of dry fabric. Moving only her eyes she looked out from under her brow to see her position gave her only the slightest view in that direction today. She completed the circle rolling her neck, letting her chin rest down on her own chest, when just then, footsteps began to ring out in the dusty air at the entrance to the eastern hall.
Piper's heart quickened and her chest tightened. She rose her eyes and then her chin to fully look toward the entryway, leaning forward with her chest and leaving her chained arms behind her, coming to her knees in every effort to see who would enter the room. All the fine still waves of her dress and the dust they held were disrupted, and the fabric came to be pinned beneath around her in a tight knot as she strained forward raising up on her knees. The indistinct sound of chains clattered behind her for only a second, then the sound of sharp footsteps echoed into the room and little metalic clips came closer to Piper, crossing the dusty stone floor. She let her shoulders pull back against her bound wrists as much as she could bear and she stretched her neck forward narrowing her eyes to slits and straining the muscles of her cheeks and forehead when just then, from behind, two single metallic clips sounded distinctly and came to rest very close to her and everything was silent even the rats. But just as she turned to look behind her, the blunt force of a solidly clenched hand collided with her cheek bone. Small metal points drove into her skin and were quickly pulled out before even having the chance to draw blood. Not anticipating the blow, Piper bit down on her tongue and the taste of pennies filled her mouth as she drew her tongue back from her teeth. Unprotesting, she lay her head against her chest and let her mouth fill with the blood appreciating its warmth and thinking of nothing but how it felt to slowly fill up from the small holes in her tongue.
"Good morning my dear--" a voice said with a sneer, and Piper's legs shook beneath her.
To her left she heard the dragging of a wooden stool against the stone ground accompanying the tapping sounds of the Jester's shoes as he walked slowly. The stool came to rest on all fours with a knock, and as the dust settled to the ground Piper slowly made out the shape of the Jester against the dark brown muddy background of the room. He was perched on the stool, which he kept in the far corner of the room beyond the reach of her chains. He wore a dull uniform of red and black, with either color being used for the opposite arm and leg. His white frilled collar was stained and had lost its sturdiness and shape, but the bulk of its lace ruffle held it off his shoulders to frame his face. With one leg hanging over the other, a foot dangling off the knee, she saw his black leather dance shoes clearly. They were pristine and their textured surface shone even though he came every day to this dim and dusty room. The thick metal plate on the toe of his shoe glinted as he wagged his foot back and forth. He dug a knife casually into an apple as he looked at Piper with an amused, sideways grin. Waiting to see if she would move on her own, hoping to catch her in the rare act, he stared with anticipation at the pile she formed on the floor.
But time had no meaning to Piper and the Jester soon grew annoyed as she refused move, even so much as to open her mouth and let the blood pour out. Impatiently, he brought both feet to the ground with a loud tap, set his apple on the stool behind him, and walked angrily over to her with a huff. His long legs carried him swiftly and he moved to grab Piper strongly by the shoulders, picking her up off the ground so far that her dress hung below her. He squeezed her tightly, his chipped and dirty nails digging into her skin through the fabric, then in a single swift motion sat her hardly back on the ground. He squatted down in front of her, now, and his putrid breath stinking of rotting fruit.
"You know better than all of this, you stupid girl", he sneered, then reaching under her dress, he groped for an ankle and one by one pulled Piper's legs out to lay straight in front of her. He brought either hand to her cheek, holding her tired head in his leather gloves, then brought her to face his. Looking into her gray, glassy eyes he smiled at her, showing his rotting teeth.
Abidingly, Piper held her body still the way the Jester had placed her. She watched as he sauntered back to his seat swinging his hips, and resumed jovially eating his apple. He made two slashes down the sides of the apple, then drew back his knife. He looked up at Piper from under his brow. Noticing her noticing him, he grinned and drove the blade into the apple, pulling out his slice. Amused, he smiled and ate in small bites. Then again, a slash down the side of the apple, look up at Piper, wait, watch, stab, watch, pull out slice. Discovering this he was growing more and more excited each time he removed the knife, looked up at Piper, then stabbed the blade back into the apple. His eyes were becoming wide and crazed, and determined, he continued on slicing more maniacally, his chewing becoming gnashing, and small bits of apple flew from his mouth. He carved away slice after slice, until he looked down to realize nothing but a slashed-up core was left in his hand. He let his smile drop.
"You win"
Then the Jester let his knife fall to the floor too, and for a minute his energy was gone.
But like a light switch flipping, the Jester then cocked his head, reopened his eyes, and grinned a grin of renewed wideness. He brought the balls of his feet to the edge of the stool, and gripping it in his fingertips too, he began to rock the stool back and forth--
"Today it is my pleasure to inform you--" he began, then flinging his head backwards, "HA!",
"--that another girl has taken your place. Is that not marvelous!!"
Piper stared back at him blankly.
But the Jester, undeterred, went on, "You misanthropic doll, you silly girl, my desultory vision!"
He began rocking the stool in wide building motions, "the King praised my performance today in front of the high court of Ausler! My newest ballad on the sensual nature of the tap dance, from castration to the cellar, was revered! Never in my years have I seen the King chortle so deeply, tears flowed from his weak eyes like diamonds!"
He jumped down from the stool, arms outstretched like a pigeon taking flight, "Diamonds my dear!!", then lunging and spinning about as if he were still in the King's court, the Jester relived his dramaturgy through tap and sweat shone on his brow like stagelights. "Diamonds my doll!!"
Then tapering his dance into a spin,
"But you, my muse, my doll, you are the core of it all! Our games bring me joy and inspiration like nothing I have experienced before! There is no other doll like you and no other Jester like me and a show like ours, with you here in the cellar and me before the King, will be divine!"
His spin wound into a descending crouch in front of Piper, and he held her face in his leather-gloved hands again, "You are my most prized possession, my dear"
And his fermenting breath clouded her head and dulled the blow he landed to her eye socket before standing to walk away.
He picked the stool up off the ground and righted it, then turned to look at Piper once again. And Piper looked onward toward him, unmoving, waiting for him to go on. Her head fell over to one side, her neck too weak to support it for the length of his procession.
"Hah," the Jester said, spitting on the dirty floor beside his feet. "Typical, never thankful are we. One day I'll run out of favors, and that means you'll run out of favors, you understand?"
Piper blinked vacantly. The Jester sighed and began pacing, "you just don't get it, I'm looking out for you see. Just because you think you'd survive out there, especially now, ha! That only proves you don't know a thing. To be honest, though, you're so pathetic I'm surprised I'm the first person to try and help you out. Huh. Guess everyone else overlooked you. Aren't I the clever one!"
And the Jester's pacing became a skippy stroll then a slow little dance in a circle around the perimeter of the room, around Piper in her starched solid costume, a heap, and he let out the occasional yelp as he kicked his legs and skipped about. He hopped from one foot to the next leading an imaginary train around her skirt, picking up speed, and singing
"Aren't I clever! Aren't I clever!"
and he touted his knife like an imaginary scepter.
Piper lay herself down upon her dress, crossing her arms as a pillow and folding forward over her knees. Everything stung to touch, especially her hands, but she let her hair fall over her face letting dust out into her eyes and nose, and she listened to the Jester sing until his energy slowly ran out looping around her time and time again. Piper almost thought she had fallen asleep when all of a sudden, a gloved hand grabbed her thin bicep. She tried to sit up but she was held firmly in place by his hand. The Jester, crouched beside her, jerked her forcefully toward the floor, pinning her down. He pressed her elbow into the hard stone ground and breathed out a cloud of fruit into her face. "You ready girl?"
Then swiftly, with his right hand, he stabbed a needle through the sleeve of her dress into her shoulder muscle.
He held her there, staring into her face as she blinked, trying to clear the thick smell of bad wine and not fully realizing her fate. But slowly he watched her jaw relax, then her shoulders, and her eyes stopped blinking and lost their purpose. He moved a hand to the underside of her neck and supported the weight of her head for a minute, enjoying the feeling of being fully responsible for her body. Then letting her head drop to the floor with a solid crack that made Piper see stars, he slowly began to bounce up and down in excitement. He bounced and bounced, not letting go of her bicep and picking Piper up and then letting her knock into the ground again each time with him as she hung from his gloved hand.
He couldn't help but tap his heels back and forth against the stone ground, giddy, feeling his grip around her arm and the hub of the syringe firmly seated against her skin, needle plunged properly into the muscle, holding him there. What a game! His silly dance unsteadied him, though, and he fell backward onto his tailbone bringing Piper's body along with him. Laying together there in a heap, the Jester laughed and sung on,
"Aren't I clever! Aren't I clever!"
and shaking his head side to side, the baubles of his dirty hat swinging along. He sang as he slowly depressed the plunger of the syringe against Piper's arm. Then, letting her body fall, he brought his legs up to stand, the soles of his feet coming into contact with the ground in four semi-synchronous clicks. He slowly came to stand, hands on his knees, then stretched his arms up to the sky above him, dropping the empty syringe as he did so. "Arghhahhh!" he said with relief and a stretch. And then wiggled his arms back and forth and spun himself left and right at the waist as if he was relieving all of the tension of a good night's sleep. He folded forward to touch his toes and bounced there a few times, admiring his own shoes. He felt his own mouth water at their sight. He gathered up the edge of his sleeve to brush away the dust that had accumulated on one of their toes. Letting his spit drip down onto the top of the shoes, he drooled for a moment on them before sucking the thick drop that hung down back into his mouth, smacking his lips, and cocking his head thoughtfully as he shined their perfect leather surface. For a minute until he could almost make out his own reflection in them. He grinned and laughed softly to himself, then, beside him, the girl he had forgotten all about for a moment stirred slightly. Without moving his head, he rotated his eyes to look to his right where the layers and layers of fabric over Piper's legs rustled as she squirmed.
