Page 19 of Of Monsters Of Kings

The question wasn’t a question. Ox sensed that too.

Stag took a turn. “There is oddity to her, and?—”

“You thought a three-week slumber compared to one of a thousand years.” The skull whirled from me, returning to his wooden chair, though he didn’t sit. As he retreated, I could lift my gaze to his long jacket. Velvet, silver buttons.

Stag tried again. “Sire, we three sense just one possibility from her. That is why we brought her here.”

The skull halted by the chair and beside Sand Cat, holding my mother. “You are not blinded to possibilities by her?”

The skeleton fidgeted on the spot and didn’t confirm he could do what his skull could not. I couldn’t blame him.

“What is it you see of her?” the skull growled, making my insides seize in fright.

Sand Cat answered, “The only possibility was that she came here to you, sire. We saw nothing past that, nor anything to explain why that, alone, was possible.”

I could look at the back of the skull’s head again now, so I saw him shake it in response to Sand Cat’s explanation. I was glad all these mentions of possibilities confused someone else. Though the skull understood a lot more than me about such matters. I could guess that “possibilities” loosely referred to choices. But there was a deeper level to what they discussed that I was ignorant of. For instance, how could they see choices to even know only one existed for me?

“That she came here,” echoed the skull. “What have I to do with a woman, barely that, who blinds me?”

I cradled my arm, which no longer wanted to work. “Perhaps to answer my question, sir?”

The skull stared straight ahead, and I stared at his broad back of black velvet. His skeleton crew stared at walls or carpet or chair. Everyone stared. I couldn’t speak for the others, but I’d chosen to do so because my mind couldn’t take in more detail. Someone had smudged away anything but the easiest and largest of the skull’s features and clothing, and I could only fathom that had been done to preserve my calm and reason.

“Sire, what would you have us do?” asked Ox.

The skull didn’t move. “She was to come to me, and she has a question. What is there but to hear it? What would you ask?”

My focus drifted to my mother. “Where do dead bodies go? I do not know, and I would like to, so I can do best by someone I loved very much.”

The thought occurred to me that this skull and his skeleton hadn’t asked me to repeat myself once. Nine months of leading a double life had softened my voice. I didn’t speak much to the other staff at the hotel. Guests, on occasion. Mostly, I spoke to my illegal mother in an elevator shaft in constant fear of being overheard, so my voice was painfully quiet—I’d been told by an annoyed Frank more than once. The skull and skeleton had never asked me to repeat myself, like almost everyone did.

“Dead bodies go to whoever finds them,” answered the skull. “My princes have found your mother, and so she is mine. Ah, that is what’s meant to happen then. She must be a strong one.”

Princes. I’d gathered that the skeleton crew referred to their skull as “liege” or “sire” in deference to his power, but perhaps this skull enjoyed royal pretense to a larger degree. I supposed if I were a skull then I might like to pretend princes were at my disposal.

None of them had asked me to repeat myself, so I could make space for some of their quirks too. “You deal with dead bodies… sire?”

“Place the body on my throne, Willboughy. There, I will find my answer to this blindness.”

Did he refer to the wooden chair with the mismatched stones piled beneath as his throne? He certainly was dedicated to his kingly vision. Or was it me who was dedicated to mine? Because I was calmly ignoring that he planned to sit there with my dead mother. There seemed no option but to ignore a great many things today.

“I cannot, sire,” replied Sand Cat. “The body is incomplete. The pelvis is missing.”

My gaze darted between them all.

“Where is it?” grated the skull. “If not to add a body to my throne, then what is the outcome of bringing the woman here?”

I had no answer to that, but I was used to not having answers. This skull was not.

“The pelvis wasn’t there, sire, and the agents were certain they’d dragged Capable and Dependable from sleep.”

Sand Cat hummed. “Perhaps the pelvis was stolen.”

Did a thief come and steal away my mother’s bones as I slumbered? I rubbed my forehead and swayed some more.

The skull hummed. “Is that the future, then? To find the pelvis?”

“Sire,” Ox said after. “This lady asked about the statues outside the building. She asked about the flowers on the railing but did not see your gray lilies.”

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