Page 89 of Of Skulls Of Shackles

And as I slammed the veil back down with no more than flicker of time gone by, I saw the mind-obliteratingterrorof me reflected in their hundreds of eyes. I saw my power in lightning and in the barefooted stitch of me. Blonde hair flowing over white dress, face sewn on—not a patch of me matching another.

Horror blocked their very throats. The strike of lightning that had marked my flashed appearance had stolen away all sound with it. My voice was unchallenged and clear and the memory of its eeriness would never leave humankind.

Tears sparked in my eyes. The beauty of this… thishistory in the making.There were no words. What team effort, what vision. Whatreversal.

“She ties all of us with stitch,” King See said softly. “We are her skin. Skulls, in both the monsterdom and in humanity’s senses of the word.”

King Take’s minion shells circled the presidential grounds, displaying their towering number. My sliming pawns called back their slime, and humans who were survivors crawled between the impossible horrors amid them to reach safety.

I threw my head back and laughed at the idea of safe.

There was no safe. There never had been. There were ancients and their designs. Then there was us, and we were just as fragile as humans when all was said and done.

So I laughed, and See laughed with me, wrapping me in his embrace again from behind. Princesses laughed, though Raise did not interrupt her broadcasting at all. Pawns could not silence their amusement.

Humans, though. They crawled—the survivors at least.

They crawled and they would never forget.

ChapterTwenty

Choices

There were at least five of them.

“Any alteration in the sickness of pawns?” I asked Princess Bring.

Her blobs wobbled, and her reluctance was an answer in itself.

She sighed. “I am afraid not, my queen. They report no bettering, but at least no worsening either.”

I nodded my thanks to Valetise, then strode through my private rooms with the princess sliming in my wake. “So the plague has little to do with humanity, or at least the resetting of humanity toward stitch and patch was not crucial in matters, even if it was crucial in solidifying queendom. Who can tell what might help to tip the scale.”

“Your connections are beyond me.”

I knew this to be very true. “Instruct pawns to gather in the throne room.”

There were fewer theories and more answers this evening. Of everything remaining, the only theory I would entertain henceforth was the one where I conquered King Bring and found fullness of queendom therefore curing the plague. That, and I would do everything in my power to complete the circle of mothers sitting in vigil.

Foreboding creeped over me like a mist—like the haze hiding the barrenness of my gray-scale retreat. Something was coming for me, and I did not know if I would continue tobeafterward.

I listened to Princess Bring’s report, and then to Princess Raise’s when she intercepted me on the stairwell. I winked at Princess Change in the courtyard, who glowered at me from the shadows. One of my stitches bound her arms behind her back. There would be no digging now unless she wish to do so with her teeth. From the looks of the dirt around her mouth, that wasexactlyher wish.

Princess Take did not arrive to report, so I fathomed there was nothing toreport in matters of pawns, yet when I swept into the throne room, my marshal was present, her simple stool set off to the left of my throne.

Candor sat in the dark corner at the back, and I smiled at her. Her jaw unlocked slightly to allow a widening of her tooth bones in thin air. Perhaps a smile.

“Pawns,” I said after sitting. Hellebores immediately stroked the backs of my hands. Two others rubbed at my temples. Such was queendom. “How do you all fare?”

My,they looked terrible. Horribly sick. Veined with black, and lacking in strength and hope. “My pawns,” I said sadly. “My heart is heavy for the pain and weariness of you. Might I do anything to help you in illness?”

Gangrel hacked a cough. “You do all you can by seeking answers. We can bear this small burden while you bear burdens far greater.”

From her armchair, Candor stated, “He spoke the truth of his heart.”

“Gangrel, you are honor itself,” I replied. “I wish a healing tincture could be had, but I fear in my heart that only a queen finding fullness in queendom will help pawns and kings. With that in mind, I must ask each of you to act despite your sickness. I am sorry for this request, and only the fate of monsterdom would force my hand such.”

“You will do as commanded,” Princess Take said to them.

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