Page 11 of Of Monsters Of Kings

My skin crawled at the similarity of her comment to what the skull had said.

I startled when she gripped my wrist and rose to sit in the bed. I hadn’t seen Mother sit unassisted in months, and awe struck me to stillness when she wrenched upward like a creature from the dead, an unhinged sparkle in her blue gaze.

“Soon it will be time.” Mother flopped flat again and turned her head to face me. “Fifty mothers, fifty gifts.”

She’d said this before. “Yes, Mother.”

“You do not know, my child, my love, our legacy.”

“What don’t I know?”

She chanted,

“Five soldiers rode across the plains,

At a cave they arrived.

Green light shone from far within,

So sought it, the brave five.

A pulsing power, a stone half-buried,

Beckoned, taunted, coaxed.

’Til five brave men, in unison did,

Touch left hand to olden rock.”

Her voice faded, and I felt her will drain away. Her frail, twisted body started to shake.

My mother was a picture of the things a person shouldn’t take for granted—and she’d never taken anything for granted before withering. She’d become a painting of mortality’s failings. Looking at her, a person might remember that a functioning body, a free mind, and a life in the sun were luxuries. They might go on with life happier about their lot.

Nine months ago, I’d gained any number of conventional troubles, but I’d gained a deep appreciation to match. The shadow of Mother’s condition didn’t darken everything around her as I’d assumed and instead made everything else brighter. If only a person chose to look closely, they would find that tragedy was a pedestal where the most precious diamonds could be found on display.

Mother spoke again, making me jolt. I’d thought her asleep.

“A mother’s love is Perantiqua,” she stated.

I smiled. The comment wasn’t unusual for her in this state. My name meant “very ancient.”

She said next, “Mother’s love will make you strong. You have been our pain and our purpose. You will be magnificence. I love you, my Patch.”

I frowned. She never called me Patch during a haze. Never.

And why was my heart pounding so?

Her grip slid away, and as always, I whipped my hand out to catch hers, checking her pulse.

Still there. As erratic as ever, but still there.

I cradled her hand in mine, kissing the middle of her palm. “Stay with me for another day, Mother. Please stay.”

Chapter Four

Each man awoke in icy darkness,

The stone eroded and dull.

---