The fragments and complete pieces of terracotta figurines that have been found during archaeological excavations tell us that they were familiar objects to the ancient Greeks as well as the Romans. They served as decorations in the home, but were also cult images in shrines and charms to ward off evil. The ones pictured here have articulated limbs. They were capable of swinging, and their movement produced a clanking noise that might have made them especially appealing. They probably were not, however, toys for children because of their fragile nature. The purpose or meaning of these figurines with the ability to move has yet to be explained. In Miriam’s time, these terracotta figurines might have had value as antiques. In The Deadliest Lie, Miriam finds them upon rushing into her fiancé Noah’s sitting room, which he’d been using as an alchemical laboratory: The arched ceiling was still embellished with gilded motifs of animals in light relief but was now stained yellow and shadowed with soot. Frescoes of the Great Harbor, the Pharos Lighthouse, and the gardens of Point Lochias still decorated the walls, but his furnishings—the leather couches and occasional chairs; the gold-handled, burled mahogany desk stacked with his own made-to-order sheets of center-cut papyrus; and the freestanding brass candelabra and terracotta statues—had been jammed in front of them. The fumes were horrific when, breaking every rule of modesty and restraint, Miriam rushed into Noah’s private quarters. But you can enjoy The Deadliest Lie without breaking those rules (unless, of course, you’re up to something I’d rather not know about). Just click here to watch the book trailer.