Hollow Dolls
Also by MarcyKate Connolly
Shadow Weaver duology
Shadow Weaver
Comet Rising
with Dan Haring
The Star Shepherd
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Books. Change. Lives.
Copyright © 2020, 2021 by MarcyKate Connolly
Cover and internal design © 2021 by Sourcebooks
Cover artwork © Manuel Šumberac
Sourcebooks and the colophon are registered trademarks of Sourcebooks.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from its publisher, Sourcebooks.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
Published by Sourcebooks Young Readers, an imprint of Sourcebooks Kids
P.O. Box 4410, Naperville, Illinois 60567-4410
(630) 961-3900
sourcebookskids.com
The Library of Congress has cataloged the hardcover edition as follows:
Names: Connolly, MarcyKate, author.
Title: Hollow dolls / MarcyKate Connolly.
Description: Naperville, Illinois : Sourcebooks Young Readers, [2020] | Sequel to: Comet rising. | Audience: Ages 8-14 | Audience: Grades 4-6
Identifiers: LCCN 2019024127 (print) | LCCN 2019024128 (ebook)
Subjects: CYAC: Magic--Fiction. | Families--Fiction. | Friendship--Fiction. | Fantasy.
Classification: LCC PZ7.1.C64685 Hol 2020 (print) | LCC PZ7.1.C64685 (ebook) | DDC [Fic]--dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2019024127
LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2019024128
Contents
Front Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Back Cover
For Mom and Dad
Chapter One
I peer out the window of my little room, the sun shining on the woods behind my best friend Sebastian’s village. My feet itch to trace the maze of little streams that wind between the trees. I’m determined to follow every one of them to their destination before the end of summer.
I’ve been staying with Sebastian’s family for the last few weeks. His older sister, Jemma, is kind, and I can wander through the woods beyond their village whenever I please. His village is in the territory of Parilla, just across the border from Abbacho. I can never remember the name of it for long. Sebastian always reminds me, but then it slips away like dandelion puffs on a breeze.
I can’t hold on to that any better than I did the memories of my own home and family.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve been a pawn. Now, for the first time in a long while, I am free. Free to figure out where exactly I belong. I have only Sebastian and his sister to help me, but I am determined to find my home at last.
Home. A place my captor must have taken me from. Lady Aisling stole so many talented folks, I was just another one for her collection.
When her captives, all blessed with magic talents, were freed, everyone eventually found their home. Relatives waiting for them. Some for weeks, months, years, even decades.
Everyone but me.
The only clue I have to my past is the dirty slip of paper I keep in my pocket with the names of my parents, siblings, and a location: Wren. Their faces are long lost.
Folks like me were blessed with magic when the Cerelia Comet flew by in the year of our birth, as it does every twenty-five years. There was a time when the comet-blessed were adored and revered, but that time has long passed. Nowadays, people don’t look as kindly on the talented as they once did. But Lady Aisling wanted all of them to herself. To keep me in the dark, she used a person with a talent for erasing my past—a memory stealer—to make sure I never knew where I could run away to.
My own talent may be mind reading, but it’s no help when there are no minds left who remember my home. Still, I cling to that piece of paper, hoping against hope to find a trace of them one day.
That hope has left me restless. The need to wander and explore burns in my veins right alongside my blood.
“Simone?” Sebastian stands in my doorway, that look on his face again. The one he always gets when he has to call my name a few too many times. I climb off the bench by the windowsill sheepishly as I feel the weight of his thoughts.
He’s worried about me.
Many of my fellow captives are nearly their old selves again and were able to pick up their former lives where they left off. But not me. I’m not even sure what the old me was like.
Sebastian worries that I’m broken. It worries me too.
“Simone.”
My eyes snap back to his, picking up the thread once again. “Good morning, Sebastian.” I move toward him, momentarily distracted into a twirl. He puts his hands on my shoulders to stop me. I grin.
“My sister just received good news. There are people coming here tonight who might be able to help you,” Sebastian says, his black curls twisting around the scar on his cheek like dark shadows.
I can’t help peeking inside his mind. The words are a jumble—something about libraries—but I can feel excitement fizzing in every one.
“Who?”
“They’re from the Parillan Archives. It holds historical records going all the way back as far as anyone can remember. If there’s a trace of your village anywhere to be found, it will be there.”
“The librarians are coming here?” My hands sway my skirts, even though I try to tell them not to.
Sebastian nods, and his mind begins to clear.
They heard about what Lady Aisling did to us. “They want to interview us both in order to record the incident. That’s what they wrote in their letter.”
The swell of hope subsides. “Then they’re not coming here to help me.”
“But they might be able to all the same. We can ask.”
I shrug, trying not to let my disappointment show too much.
“They’ll be here tonight. Jemma wanted me to tell you to be sure you’re home for dinner.”
And not muddy, Sebastian can’t help but think.
I’ll do my best, I think back. My talent allows me to both hear and send thoughts. He smiles.
Jemma gave up on making me useful weeks ago. I tried, but the tasks she gave me just couldn’t hold my attention for long. There are too many minds, too many conversations, too many voices. It is loud and distracting, and I forget what I’m doing sometimes. The best she hopes for now is that I remember to come home after wandering in the woods or the village. At least I haven’t forgotten that yet.
“I will, I promise.”
“Are you going to the woods?” Sebastian asks, just as he does every day. I give the same answer too.
“Yes.” I pause, already knowing what he’s going to say next. “And I think I’d rather walk alone today.”
He means well, but I go there to feel the quiet. Bringing him with me would defeat the purpose.
Sebastian and Jemma are kind to let me stay with them, but they are not quite mine. It doesn’t help that I can hear their thoughts. Mind reading may sound like a wonderful talent, but the reality is less fun. In a village like this, full of people and lives and little red-roofed houses, all those minds are a constant dull roar. Sometimes when Sebastian is talking to me, I don’t hear him over it at first. I have to work to block the minds out. Actual silence is a rare thing.
I slip out of the house, breezing by my friend, my head already full of silent leaves and babbling streams.
* * *
I trace the lines the streams make throughout the woods for hours until I finally sink onto the edge of a bank. The water doesn’t think; it just gurgles and moves cheerily on its way. Every day is the same. There are no surprises for it, and even if there are, it simply flows around easily.
I am not water, though sometimes I wish I was.
I tuck my knees up to my chest and close my eyes, letting my magic reach out to my surroundings. Mind reading gives me a different sort of sight, almost like a new sense. I can feel any nearby minds. I’ve never measured the range, but the closer I am physically, the louder they are. There’s a rabbit burrow nearby, hidden by a thicket, with a mother and three little ones. Mice and squirrels roam the underbrush, and every now and then the slippery thoughts of a silver fish swim past.
No one can sneak up on me, not even the curious rabbit poking her head out of the burrow. It’s a young one, and I know that if I stay still, she’ll come closer.
It’s all right, little one, I tell her. It startles her at first, but then she inches closer until she nudges my foot with her long whiskers. May I pet you? Rabbits don’t have words. They think more in feelings and instinct, and hers are warm and welcoming. I reach out a tentative hand, all the while sending her reassuring thoughts. Her fur is soft, and she nuzzles up next to me.
As I pet her, my mind wanders. I don’t have a lot of memories since the memory stealer took them. It’s like there is a thick, dull fog hovering in the back of my brain where those memories should be. With any luck, the librarians coming tonight will have answers. But what will I have to give in return? Reliving my time with the Lady is unpleasant. And tricky with all the gaps in my memories.
When the sun begins to flee the sky, I finally head back to Sebastian’s home. The afternoon spent with the uncomplicated minds of squirrels and earthworms and the occasional curious fox and rabbit has smoothed the edges of my worries. I bid my new woodland friends goodbye and get to my feet, steeling my spine.
I retrace my steps slowly, letting my hands rove over the bark of the trees along the way and whisper over velvety ferns. Leaving the peace of the woods is never easy, but today it is especially hard. The route from the village gate to Sebastian’s home takes me through the market square. Usually, there are so many people there that it’s deafening, but no single mind ever stands out over the others, which makes it bearable for the few moments it takes to pass through.
Today is different.
The minute I set foot in the square, a sickly feeling washes over me, strong enough that I have to sit down in the middle of the street. It earns me more than a few stares.
What’s wrong with her?
Should I ask if she needs help?
Hmph. Lazy child.
Icy hands seem to grip my throat as I scan the crowd. I don’t see anyone out of place. But that awful feeling remains, a taint of magic lingering in the air.
I scramble to my feet and push forward, following the feeling of that strange mind in the crowd. The noise rises as I get closer. My hands quake and twist in my skirts, but my feet keep moving of their own accord. When I press deeper into the mass of people, some minds scream louder than others. I do my best to push them away, but too many still get through.
What is he doing?
Poor woman, Joe must have fallen and hit his head.
I can’t see much until I reach a break in the crowds. A man and a woman argue by one of the stalls. On the surface, nothing much seems out of the ordinary. But the woman clutches the man’s arm while he tries to shake her off. I have seen them before—they’re a nice couple. The woman sells flowers, and the man fixes odds and ends for a price. Sometimes at the end of the day, she lets me have one of the flowers that are starting to wilt.
I go still and look closer at the pair, letting my talent loose. The woman’s mind is frantic, but the man’s is like hot coals.
Help! Someone, help!
I yank back my magic with a small cry. There are two minds in that man—the one the body belongs to, begging for help, and the dominant one, shoving the owner down.
My knees shake, and I sink into the dirt, garnering even more odd looks for the second time that day. Jemma said it was best not to share my talent with the villagers. But they can still tell that there’s something different about me.
The man continues to act strangely, and the cry of the mind inside is too loud to bear. I manage to find my feet and then break into a run. I don’t stop, don’t listen to a single yell that follows me, until I’m free of the market crowds.
I know that talent. Body walking. The ability to take control of another person’s body and silence the mind inside. All it takes is one touch, and then the body walker can overtake a person whenever they want regardless of distance. The connection doesn’t fade over time either. At any moment, a victim could be back under the body walker’s command. No talent terrifies me more.
Now, here in Sebastian’s village, there’s a body walker on the loose.
Chapter Two
I halt in my tracks on the path to Sebastian’s house. What if the Lady is involved somehow? She’s imprisoned nearby. My breath stutters, and I brace myself on the nearest tree.
I must warn Sebastian. I break into a run so I don’t lose my nerve.
As I enter Sebastian’s little cottage, he is there to greet me.
“They’re here,” he says, his eyes alight with hope.
Fear tightens into a knot in my chest, and I grab his arm.
“Sebastian, I need to tell you something—”
Jemma pokes her head into the hall. “Simone, we were getting worried.” She frowns, brushing her brown curly hair away from her face. The worry that had been gnawing at her begins to fade, and I can feel her irritation set in like an itchy cloak.
“I got distracted,” I say, closing the door behind me.
Again? Jemma thinks. Then sheepishly turns away. She hasn’t gotten used to having a mind reader around yet. Most people can go their whole lives without meeting someone with magic. And when they do, we take some getting used to.
“What do you want to tell me?” Sebastian asks, but Jemma clicks her tongue.
“That will have to wait until after dinner. We have guests, and it’s rude to keep them waiting.”
I swallow hard, trying to shove my racing heart back into place. Jemma steers me and Sebastian toward the table, where the two librarians await us. One of them is a young woman with a curious mind who Jemma introduces as Rachel, while the older woman, Ida, looks me over as if I’m something to eat.