Page 7

Chapter Seven

There was something to be said

For chasing fate.

I had only looked at the great ring of mist machines that surrounded Vitale through binoculars as a human. Now I was close enough to hear the hiss of their misting efforts in the dark. Their watery spray drenched my light robes and the cloth over my mouth soon enough.

The water misters, so I knew from schooling, existed to eliminate much of the dust pressure from the ever-present dust waves and sandstorms. Indeed, as I moved beyond their watery efforts with Princess Raise and Princess Bring in tow, the dust soon stuck to every part of me, seeking its way into my eyes, ears, and every crevice uncovered.

I climbed to the top of a sand dune, and curiosity turned me back to the city.

My first time truly outside Vitale. Even as a monster queen, the moment struck me. The dust limited visibility in each direction, but I recalled the pictures and books that described endless sand and poisonous water deposits, and winds that would rip you apart with all the sand they flung. Of course, there were those who traveled between the pulses—Hotel Vitale had existed for a reason—but only the very rich and important could do so. When they did, they usually traveled in armored sand rails, a buggie contraption that navigated the sand with ease.

“’Tis strange to see the city from the outside,” I murmured.

Princess Bring said, “I found the sight of the city from the inside strange for a time. I had only ever seen the outside world while I died on and off.”

I studied the air filters around the top of Vitale’s walls that gleamed in the moonlight. The misters did their best to stick dust to the ground, and then the filters provided another defense. Regardless of these measures, a layer of dust and sand always coated buildings and streets within the walls. I imagined the same could be said of the other seven hundred and thirteen walled cities, especially because Vitale was the largest and best equipped of all of them.

All of these protections, though, and there were still several sandstorms each year that towered several miles high and necessitated everyone remaining indoors for the duration. What dust and sand and dirt must agitate the lungs and bodies of humans.

Was this living?

I had dreamed of a more vibrant existence as a human, and this view of Vitale only summoned the likeness of a cage to mind. There must be more to the world for all creatures than this.

“Lead the way, kindly,” I said to the princesses.

Princess Raise led the way, and Princess Bring followed me. I did wonder what happened to the sand that must stick to her slime, but asking felt rude.

“I had forgotten the exfoliation,” she moaned.

My brows lifted. Goodness, how unexpected the answer to my curiosity.

Bring continued moaning and gasping as we walked down and then up any number of great dunes.

Vitale was a speck in the distance when Princess Raise stopped on a rocky outcrop in a flat expanse of sand. The surrounding dunes gave the impression of a great, barren valley.

The feeling was ancient indeed.

I moved past Princess Raise. “Therein lies the cave that five soldiers entered, drawn toward a green light.”

I could not fathom that time when kings had been human and monsters had not existed, and The End had not transpired.

But here was the cave. Not as grand as I had imagined. King See would need to bend in half to enter.

No green light shone, but nevertheless, the importance of this place was palpable in the air and in the rockiness underfoot.

“Will you enter, my queen?” asked Princess Bring.

Foreboding, dreadful and thick. “Yes, I suppose I shall. Wait here.”

I was not as tall as King See, nor any king, and so I had only to tilt my head to enter under the flat slab of rock that formed the ceiling.

Darkness thicker than that outside, a darkness bereft of moonlight.

My chest tightened at the cloying confines, but my eyes adjusted quickly enough. I worked to even my breaths again, reminding myself that ancients had driven my obsession and reason for coming.

Just as they drove five human men here.

I held up my palm, then drew my power in tight before jolting heat into the center. Light erupted. Too much. I blinked against the glare, and drew the light closer, stealing heat away until my magic glowed and did not blare.

I had never entered a cave, but I imagined this was like many others. A tunnel extended deeper into the rock, and I could see that the ceiling was higher there, high enough for me and for kings.

With a last glance outside to where princesses waited, I took hold of my shredded bravery and walked in my floating way down the tunnel. The tunnel was not wide enough for more than one person, and the hairs at the base of my neck rose as if ancients themselves walked at my back. I glowed my magic brighter to inspect the walls. The rock here was darker than the exposed rock outside, and there was a smoothness through the middle of the wall that spoke of the kings that had gone to and fro, brushing the rock with their clothing and bodies.

Ahead the tunnel widened, and my feet slowed.

I had expected olden rock. A green light. I hardly knew what, really.

Not this.

At the end of the tunnel, I stopped, and regarded the solid wall before me. The wall was not made of the same rock as the cave. The wall had been built.

I studied the five holes in the wall. They were at various heights, and I assumed they matched the height of kings’ hands.

Their left hands, I fathomed.

Keyholes.

“And so it is,” I said softly. “That a queen must win the keys to kingdoms.”

Or perhaps I could skip that.

Holding my breath, I rested my fingertips on the wall. When nothing happened, I placed both palms against the metal wall, then pushed. Not a budge.

I drew forth my power and pressed against the wall next. Harder. Harder.

Nothing. Oof— I released my held breath.

There was a totality in the strength of the wall that told me the material kings constructed it from was rather more than mere metal. This metal was infused with the power of five kings.

“You sealed an olden rock away.” I stroked the highest keyhole that would belong to King See. “You all agreed to seal the olden rock when the pact was broken? Or are you hiding something?” Or protecting something. Themselves?

Or monsters.

Without more to go on, my theories were too numerous to be of much help.

“Five keys.” I drew out the s in a hiss, and there was a joy in the word, and a blasting of fresh aroma.

Obsession had more form.

Yes, keys must be mine. “How to win each of you?”

I stared at the wall for a great length of time, then returned the way I had come with far less fear than when I had entered.

“You were in there for so long,” said Princess Bring. “Dawn is almost upon us.”

I nodded and set off for the city. I would not forget the path here. “I am well, Princess.”

“Did you learn anything of obsession?” she asked.

“I did.” And should I trust that knowledge to princesses? I believed that I had to. I would not have found the cave, nor had any current form to obsession without their help last night. I would not be so arrogant as to believe I had the time to uncover the stepping stones by myself. Not this time. “I require five sets of keys. Each king has one in his possession.”

“A key?” asked Princess Raise. “My husband has never spoken a word of this.”

“Nor my king,” said Princess Bring. “Though I do not doubt your connection, my queen.”

“They each have a key,” I said. “I must gather all five to enter the cave and approach the olden rock that is their shared source. Or so I fathom at this early stage.”

We set off back to Vitale in the gradually lightening sky. There was a relief in the idea that I would be inside the walls of Vitale again soon, and I studied this feeling during the walk, concluding that it was remnant of the fears drilled into me as a human.

“Do you expect that Princess Change will be snooping, my queen?” said Princess Bring between moans of ecstasy. I could not imagine the experience of sand on blob, but I was happy for any monster finding such erotic pleasure. Surely this joy was an indicator that blob was meant for sand.

I wrenched open the enormous gates of Vitale with my power, and heard the cries of alarm from the guards and operators on the other side. Ten soldiers armed this gate at all times, and learning to operate the mechanisms that opened and closed the gates was a job held in the highest esteem. The humans could not see me nor the princesses, so to them, a great gust of wind must have appeared to jerk open the impossibly heavy gates.

“I will hear about that on the radio for a month,” Princess Raise drawled. “The gate of Vitale flung open for the first time in history, and then a second time in the same night.”

“Humans feel good when there is something small to worry about,” I answered.

“I do not consider that humans will believe this as a ‘small’ something,” she muttered.

I cocked my head her way. “How will they consider it, steward?”

“The villagers, as the citizens of Vitale call your sixth, will believe this is the magic of the corn husk lady.”

Not the corn husks. I thought they were done and over with the end of the corn harvest. “That is what they call me?”

“That and by your name. They can hear your voice, recall, though they cannot see you.”

I recalled. “So Perantiqua is a mystical corn husk doll?”

“She wears a silk dress, burning with embers. She is stitched, every part of her. Her voice shakes the world. Her passage tears building from foundation and mother from child. She is the power that will save the world, but she is terrible.”

Humans had somewhat of a gift for knowing somewhat of the truth of matters even though existing in somewhat of a simple ignorance. “Impressive.”

“They are subjects that absorb the whispers and power of their immortal ruler. Other humans do not hark and herald you so.”

I imagined not. “What do they say?”

“The city—and cities everywhere—are in some chaos,” answered Princess Raise. “Skulls and their skeleton crews terrorize everyday citizens. The innocent gather in groups for protection and begin to make violent plans to retaliate.”

I blinked thrice. “Chaos, you say?”

We were passing through a field of lupins, but for the first time, I drew my observation closer to the buildings and roads immediately surrounding me. Broken windows, crumbled ruins.

The door to a pawn shop appeared to have been blown up.

Damaging harvest was punishable by death, and yet lupins were flattened in great patches as though bodies had wrestled there, or great groups had walked without care.

“Goodness, I have not looked closely at humans recently.” That seemed a shortcoming. Princess Raise reported humans’ affairs to me regularly, and yet I had not looked beyond the humans in my sixth in some time, too occupied with matters of monsters.

As we continued toward the heart of Vitale, I studied the human surroundings with interest. “What are your theories of the reasons for this chaos, Princess Raise?” I asked.

She hummed. “Obviously there is dissent between kings. King Take vows to break yourself and King See. King See is unbothered by the Takes for the first time in centuries, and yet he views all kings as his enemy because they threaten you. King Bring seeks to destroy you and See also. Change also wants to destroy you. I believe the humans of Bring, Take, and Change are the violent presences in the city. My husband’s humans are largely those gathering in groups and making plans of violent retaliation—you know that my king expects that he will need to war with you soon to steal me away. Then there are the humans of King See who maintain the running of the city, and do what they can to bring control to the chaos.”

“And mine who mind their own business,” I added.

“Not yours, Your Majesty. Yours have a life coveted by all other humans in this city. Picket was wise to build your walls so high. Soon, all skulls and skeletons and gathering groups of humans will realize they have a common enemy, as they have already done at intervals when kings allied to war against you recently.”

This all itched at my stitches, for six territories would need to become one, and I had ignored humans as an entity of their own to deal with, assuming that they would submit as each of their kings submitted. But whether or not kings submitted, their real feelings could remain untouched. Humans reflected these feelings and whisperings in their behavior.

“You have given me much to think about,” I told her. “Now, I will kindly request that the two of you remain here for the space of five minutes. I need to sneak up on Princess Change and catch her in the snooping act.”

Princess Bring quivered damply. “What shall you do then, my queen?”

“Pretend a great rage, of course.” I smirked. “Good morning, Princesses.”