My lion uses his top hat for courage.
He puts it on and he's bulletproof, ten feet tall. Dark as night. Loud as thunder. Strong as steel. He holds my soul aloft in the morning sun. He stole it while the Devil was sleeping. Sometimes we borrow it. Sometimes he paints it gold and sells it for cash and then steals it back again. Sometimes it's counterfeit, a substitute soul left out by mistake but on purpose to keep the original safe.
It's a fake, he proclaims, turning it over. A tiny Made in China sticker on the bottom gives it away. He holds it up over his head and smashes it on the tiled floor. When it shatters a tiny barn swallow flies out, finding safety in the rafters. She begins to sing and is soon joined by others. I go to clean up the mess and Loch tells me to leave it. That we need to find the original and soon, because maybe this is the small window in which I may be able to get my own soul back for good.
But what if he wakes up and finds it gone?
It doesn't belong to him, what's he going to do? Courage makes Lochlan cocky, bold. I reach up and take the hat and put it on my own head. I get it. It's striking. It's his armor. On me it falls down to my nose, covering my eyes and he takes it back with a laugh.
You can't even see with it on.
I don't need to.
We do. We need to keep our eyes open, Bridget.
For what?
The bad guys.
What do they look like?
They look like him, he motions ahead of us. Caleb is standing on the steps of the boathouse. He nods in return as Loch nods to him.
Definitely a bad guy. But you're safe because you're with me.
The hat is a weapon. It's a shield. It's a wall that neither the Devil nor the Memory thief can knock down and that's okay with me.
