Page 91 of Of Skulls Of Shackles

The original poem of kings spoke as much. “Have they face or greater detail?”

King See hummed. “I recall faces of horror during my warping. I remember their hissed language. I recall their long absences from my warping, many years at a time. That was a warping in itself.”

I tilted my head. “Lack of company, even a lack of warping company,isa warping in itself. Profound. Yes, you are right. I feel the warping of such ignorance and have done since first walking into toothed beast’s yawn. Wherever did they go for all those years?”

“They departed for other places,” drawled Take.

“Other worlds?” I asked sharply, ignoring his sarcastic tone.

“Who could say,” said King See. “I have only connected that they may be wardens of our world, if not others. They only provide the tools needed to potentially save a world, though they do not save it themselves. The natural connection is that?—”

I cut in. “—They oversee so many worlds that they cannot possibly be personally involved in saving each one. The tools are supplied, whether they are successfully used is left to chance.”

As See nodded, King Raise said, “We have limitations to our power. Perhaps they do too. Perhaps they can only work through beings, for instance. Indirectly.”

I circled the conservatory in the mists of kings. “Interesting indeed. I have been curious, you see. A better understanding of ancients might help me in the matter of healing kings and pawns.”

“You will never understand ancients,” snarled King Change. “You will always be at their mercy. You will sense the oil of them in all you do.”

Did he refer to warping?

“Always so dramatic, dear Change,” said Take, smirking. “I feel their presence more as a slickness, but not an oily one. There are others slicknesses that I like very, very much. It’s about perspective.”

“You have no perspective beyond the slapping visits of your princess,” was the snapped response.

What, up here in my conservatory?

Princess Take did love an audience.

I stopped before King See. “How do you feel the presence of ancients, sir?”

“As others have said, they are as a layer over everything I do. When I peer into past, present, or future, there is a casing around every path, the sheath of a sword. That is how ancients monitor us and affect all change. They are permeated through every speck of everything and everyone. There is no hiding. No tricking. No escaping. Perantiqua, make good with the presence of ancients, whether you view them as oily or otherwise. Make good with them, or they will force you to do so, and never grant you the semblance of freedom again. That is what I sense.” His milky eyes warned me away from choosing any other path.

I would heed his warning because I respected him greatly. “I do not mean to escape anything. I seek understanding. Be reassured.”

He released an exhale. “I am reassured. Thank you.”

I hesitated, then admitted to the shackled kings. “I feel a great wave rising up to crash down upon me. There comes a time when monsterdom will hang in the balance, and I do not fathom as much as I need to. And I cannot yet.”

Kings were silent. If I could not connect a matter, then they certainly could not, being mere kings.

“What do you know?” asked King Take.

Here was the exact point of possessing shackled kings, I supposed. They were meant as my advisors, most likely. Yet I only had four, and I hesitated to confide in them with one king out on the loose.

Something was missing. Something crucial. Something hidden, and that something was attached to the overwhelming feeling of foreboding. I could not confide in kings just yet. “Soon King Bring will join your number,” I replied. “That is when I will confide in kings.”

“And shall we stay here after that?” asked Raise. “I am enjoying the break.”

I could appreciate he truly might, the king who was but a foot soldier in mind and heart.

We all listened to the clicking approach of Princess Take’s heeled shoes.

“I harden,” hissed King Take, earning a snarl from Change.

“My queen,” she said in undertones. “Pawns have been unsuccessful in their mission. There is no sign of King Bring in Vitale. Shall I punish them?”

My eyebrows climbed. Goodness, punishment for simple failure, and when they were sick? Perhaps I would need to manage the princess’s bloodthirstiness. “That will be unnecessary. Tell pawns to leave no rock unturned. He has not left Vitale because I have not, and he believes I am his curing hope. Speak with Princess Bring. She was his witness for an age. She may provide some hint or clue. Instruct Princess Raise to inspect the olden door for his presence. Carefully.”

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