Page 16 of Of Sockets Of Stitches
She is ancient in truth
And tarries not
Lingers never
Lest the world become forever buried.”
“Subtle changes in a chant,” I murmured to Princess Bring, who scratched around in her sand, safely cocooned in my tunic.
The parts of the chant I had addressed were now in past tense, and the rest remained in present tense. Kings were still free of my olden prison. I had been sloppy in obsession and had not tidied up such details. That would be rectified.
Of the rest of their chant, I saw clearly.
I scanned my fifty mothers, so alive in their death. Forty-nine possessed vibrant appearances, having been halted at the prime of their life. Their beautiful smiles spread wide as they rejoiced in the return of their daughter and queen, and also celebrated the return of Adalina.
I nodded at Adalina, and then looked to the only mother not paused at the prime of her life. She could not have had that and also have received the gift of providing for her daughter in death. Two priceless gifts could not be enjoyed eternally, and so my mother had chosen to exist in the richness of motherhood.
I knelt before her, on one knee only. “Mother, I have returned.”
The chant of fifty mothers cut off, and silence reigned after—nearsilence. King Change was being choked by hellebores in the grave he had tried to pass through to return to the colorful world of monsters.
My mother’s blood-streaked gaze shone with unshed tears. “You returned, my Patch. You have done what no other could do. How were you born of me?”
I held both corners of my tunic in one hand, then brushedaway Mother’s single tear, feeling the sharp bones of her gaunt face. Her skin was so fragile. “That is not the question I ask, for that answer is obvious to me. I could only be born of a woman like you.” I peered around my mothers. “Of women like you all.”
I leaned forward to kiss my mother, and then faced my ancestors.
Tuning out the sound of Change choking, I said to them, “The reckoning of princes, princesses, and kings is at an end. Now comes the reckoning of the world.”
“The reckoning of the world,”they hissed in unison. Such eagerness.
Many mothers had disagreed with their fate, and I had morally disagreed with stitching those in place that had not wished for it, but I saw determination and eagerness on their faces now. Whether those mothers had altered their thoughts, or whether this version of me had muffled their fears, I couldfeelthe hum of agreement in their midst.
“Thank you, Mothers. I shall return soon. As you vigil, so must I on the matter of the end of the world.”
Mothers settled into their chant again, and I crossed to the mother who possessed but one arm. A stitch connected her by shoulder stump to her daughter.
I placed a hand over her stump and trickled power into the unalive flesh. “I am sorry for the pain endured as a creature feasted on your arm. Your sacrifice brought back Adalina, and while I cannot be sorry for that happy return, know that I did not put you through pain lightly.”
“I knew it, Daughter,” murmured the mother. “I could feel that great purpose rolled around me.”
She peered at her stump and smiled at the tiny branches and leaves already growing there. “A great gift. Thank you, Daughter.”
“You gave life as surely as a tree,” I answered.
Snorts and chuckles and soft laughter trickled from themothers closest to the grave. I walked toward the choking King Change, and could not resist a chuckle of my own.
The five-petaled black flowers were choking the king, tightening their stems around his neck like a noose. They had pried open his lips and forced their way inside too. Hellebores were the cure for ancient insanity. What cure had they granted a king of no change?
I looked at the king, and the hellebores sensed my intention and vacated his mouth. “What are your thoughts of saving, sir?”
He said on a weary exhale, “I have no thoughts of saving. My thoughts are of ruin, and always of ruin.”
I had expected such. “King Change, you have learned the truth of this place, sir—that this circle of my mothers will no longer allow you entry nor exit without my knowledge and acceptance.”
Exhausted as he was, the king could only speak his mind. “I will never again enter this place of despair and nothing.”
I considered my circle of mothers and the tower and haze beyond. I did not see nothingness and despair in this place any longer.
