Hello, Nathalie here. Although I’m not sure where here is. Nor am I sure exactly where I am. My author has been very mysterious about my fate. I was a major part of Grace and Maia’s lives, but I disappeared. How is one to know what’s going on, when your writer keeps leaving your story in limbo to work on other projects? Here’s a little of what she has written about me in our Work In Progress; ‘Wind Me Up, One More Time’. It’s from Grace’s perspective, since this Grace’s story. I might have told a very different tale.
“Who’s the artist?” I asked, staring at the bits of metal. Every piece had an angry gleam, which clashed against the other metal bits.
“Iama the Terrible,” Nathalie said, emphasizing each syllable with slow relish.
“Terrible, terrible woman,” the other girl said, touching her forehead with a shiver. “Once she was an artist, but tragedy happened. She was a success.”
“It changed her,” Nathalie said with a slow nod. “Everything she touched starting turning to gold, including people.”
“Really?” I asked, staring at the statue with wide eyes. It was rather terrible. It made sense that someone terrible had made it.
Nathalie’s lips twitched when her eyes met the girl’s. The stranger allowed herself a secret smile, which she shared with Nathalie. Not me.
“What’s so funny?” I asked, afraid of what the answer would be.
“Grace, this *is* the artist,” Nathalie said. She shot a quick glance at the small, silver placard at the base of the statue. “Meet Maia, otherwise known as the clockwork girl.”