Page 15 of Of Sockets Of Stitches
“Here is the answer. We do not challenge one another. We do not toss things to one another. I have great respect for the power of my body. Such power my body has that it can distract my ancient mind from a broken soul. I have great respect for you, magnificent creature. I will not toss you arms to challenge you when I might simply gift a precious meal to you instead.” I lifted the arm higher, and her cold gaze tracked it.
I told her, “This was the arm of a mother stitched in vigil.Would you accept this token from me on behalf of ancients? If they are merciful and deem fit to return the mother, Adalina, to the fullness of deathly vigil, then I would exist properly humbled for the duration of my immortality. Either way, this is my gift to you and my thanks to ancients for the gift of their haze.”
The creature lunged forward, and though the arm was her target, I was left without doubt of my sorry fate had she intendedmefor a meal. She might have killed me at any time in this haze. Shewouldhave killed me on behalf of ancients if I had remained a broken queen.
But I had not.
I crouched beside the creature as she tore through the ligaments of the mother’s forearm. The distant screams from the tower informed me that the mother could still feel pain from her severed limb, which was regrettable.
I murmured, “Thank you, extraordinary creature, for all that you made clear to me. This will not be the last time I see you, I fathom that wholly.”
The creature did not leave its meal to acknowledge me, but I drifted fingertips through her copper fur before standing.
I adjusted my grip on my tunic and peered down at Baby Bring. “Here it is, dear friend, the moment of our return. Constant irony in queendom, for I quailed at the idea of entering this place, and now I quail at the idea of leaving its peace. I return to all I was as another person and queen. Shall they know me?”
Baby Bring did not stop her scritch-scratch rustling in her sand pile.
I stared at my queenly tower to where mothers still chanted. “There are a great many things to do. To queendom, to the world, to monsters and humans. To him.”
No question and hesitation lingered in me, really—more like a soft regret and a goodbye in my heart to all I had been before. That was all. Otherwise, I was clear on my path.
For at the final moment of my breaking or making, only one driving need had healed me again. Only one purpose had held me together when all parts of me were broken and in pain.
The woman had curled around the child. The child had curled around an orb.
We, all of us, had curled around monsters.
“There are a great many things to do,” I said over the creature’s feasting. “I will begin.”
Chapter Eight
The return of the queen.
Fifty mothers called me home into the stitched circle of their arms. The creature had feasted on the gifted flesh of a mother, and the ancients had been merciful. They had released Adalina back to me.
I had listened to their chant for some time while completing the final stretch to my tower.
They chanted,
“Up and out
Wove golden fate
Feeling ancient in gifted wisdom.
Five powers grasp
All icy demise
Free from her olden prison.
Throne was seat
Unionis seam
Skulls are skin
Shackles were stitch.
