Page 19 of Of Sockets Of Stitches
“The purpose that kings hold for a queen will unfold.” And if it did not, then I would seek the answer.
King Raise cleared his throat. “And might we be released one night soon?”
I did not answer, and instead pulled five keys up through my queendom and into my hands. Then, I shoved the wall of my power downward to shoot myself high into the sky.
By directing my power this way and that, flying was no difficult matter.
I flew over Vitale, ignoring the sight and sounds of it. I ignored the humming of the filters cleaning the air, too, and also the misters beyond the walls of the city, who attempted to stick sand to the ground. Such futile measures taken by humans to cling to their existence. There was surely a better way.
A monstrous way.
I descended into a cold valley, and though I was greater in every possible way since the haze, there was an undeniable agelessness about this place, so surrounded as it was by towering dunes.
I entered the cave that kings had entered so long ago, and I continued down the tunnel they had once walked. The walls were smoothed in places by their frequent passage, and that was not the only mark kings had made here.
The way forward was soon blocked by a thick stone door woven with the power of five kings. Five keyholes were set in the stone slab, revealing what a queen must do to enter.
I had already relocated the olden rock from beyond this door to my conservatory. But then what was the point of winning five keys from kings?
I was meant to see what existed beyond this door. That was the ancient answer.
First I slotted the simple brass key that had belonged to King Bring into the matching keyhole in the wall. Twist.Click.
The bone key of King Take was next. Twist.Click.
The stone key of King Raise, that his princess had safeguarded and relinquished. Twist.Click.
The gnarled and knotted wood key of King Change. Twist.Click.
Finally, a black key gothic in its intricate cobweb design. The key of King See. I twisted the key, and the thud of my heart reminded me of my tie to the previous owner before a merciful fifthclickrang out.
I dragged in an inhale, then promptly banished thoughts of sounds and clicks to where they belonged.Not in my mind.
The door cracked open with a great pour and smatter of sand and dust. I exhaled a strong breeze to clear the piles of sand away, and then pressed my fingertips against either side of the crack to gently push.
The thick stone slabs embedded with so much power crashed back against the walls of the cave.
My,the mythical cave was not large. To think that five men once stooped in here over a green rock was almost amusing, and I would feel that way if not for the foolishness of laughing at ancients.
The hole in the middle of the cave yawned in plain sight. That was where the olden rock had been.
I was not filled with confidence at approaching the edge, but I did what must be done.
Bravely—moronically—I peered into the hole left behind by an olden rock capable of warping kings. I peered down and down and forever into the hole.
The walls of the endless tunnel were sand and lifeless dirt, pale brown and useless to support life. Where I would expect to see layers of minerals deeper in the Earth, I saw none. More lifeless dirt. More sand. As far as my immortal and powerful eyes could see.
There was nothing else to this tunnel—except that it was not endless as initially thought. The hole extended to the core of the world, as far as I could tell. I would have expected to see a molten core, but yellows, oranges, and reds did not burn and smolder at the world’s center.
So I listened next, and there was the faintest flip-flop at the distant, distant bottom, as though a dying fish flapped pathetically.
My ears could tell me no more.
I sniffed the air.Death.
I tasted rot on my tongue, and my skin burned as if acidic smoke drifted up from the hole.
This hole was a gaping wound. An ulcer. This was my glimpse of the sickness and ruin of the world.
