Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

Thank goodness for rubble and dust

P erhaps I should have hastened, for by the time I had arrived to face Raise’s fifth, they had already set fires to thatch and dummy renditions of me and had terrorized my sixth thoroughly. My sixth was rather small, and while I was unsure how to utilize humans in the war of immortal monsters, I did know they were needed.

Silk was not great fighting attire, I had found. Embers did catch it alight so, and now one of my legs was displayed from bare and filthy foot to stitched-on upper thigh. Smoke and ash coated me, despite the fact that I had done nothing other than stand before my wall of bars, push my balloon of power outward, and watch the antics of human and pawn.

Humans could not enter my balloon of power or see me, so by expanding my balloon, I was able to exhaust them. Nevertheless, they remained determined to penetrate the defense. Did they press the corn husk dolls of me against my power on purpose? I had to think so as some of the dolls had needles shoved in them, and some were dyed with blood.

I did not appreciate the personal nature of Raise’s attack.

Has Been rushed forward in lumbering leaps and bounds. Bullets found his white flesh, but that was no great issue for an immortal.

He plucked guns and knives from the closest row of fevered, dazed humans with his oversized hands. The humans weaved on their feet, weary beyond reason. Many fell to their knees in response to Has Been’s sheer nearness—though again, their minds would not let them see what he was.

Not at night.

Guns, knives, small bombs, and fire—King Raise had armed his fifth, and if I had not moved to defend my queendom, then I would no longer have an excess of humans.

As it was, I had moved quickly to corral my sixth within my wall of bars. The homeless humans had since occupied themselves with some rocking shock while my pawns and I battled outside.

Huckery dashed forward in a furry blur, and I wrinkled my nose when he ripped off the head of a human. I did wish he would refrain from killing.

But if Huckery did not ruin, his king would punish him. How conflicting and uncomfortable. A spying king might be very uncertain about my purpose because my pawns were going about business as their kings expected them to—by ruining or saving or a mixture of the two. Some of my pawns had chosen violence. Some had chosen to disarm. As it was, by the state of this battlefield, my purpose would appear to align with Take’s or Raise’s, even though my actions had been to save.

“And is this the third of your rapid attacks, King Raise?” I murmured. He had set fire to the thatched housing for his first act—and the dummies of me, of course. For his second, he had ordered his contractees to charge on my queendom.

They had drawn weapons shortly after, so was that the third act or still part of the second?

Loup padded over. “Lady Queen, our king summons us.”

“Will you go?” I asked.

Another whine. “Your will is stronger.”

Unguis and Huckery joined us, and I grimaced at the flesh dangling from Huckery’s yellowed fangs.

“Our fealty is to our king,” he snarled.

Now here was a predicament. Now here was a conflict. “I am aware of the physical consequences you would face from your king, and I would never see such capable monsters harmed. You are very worthy of great respect and care. Go to your king. See what he requires.”

“We know what he requires,” Unguis whimpered, hanging a paw over his snout. “He wishes us to lead his fifth against you this night.”

Oh. Two kings would come for me tonight. That was twice my current situation. How would my balloon of power fare?

I regarded them, then regarded their feelings. “I see. And my answer is unchanged. Go to him.”

There was an inner war in my werebeasts, far bloodier and sootier than the battle outside of them. They felt my will, and the dark spark in them that still existed, barely there after the long abuse from King Change, understood what that meant. They knew my will should be heeded simply because they had the power to deny their king. But such surety was not enough for a monster convinced that convention was the gold standard of existence.

Yet though they had not asked for permission to leave, they also had not left until I had given it.

That was a large and difficult concession indeed for my three beastly pawns.

I declared, “Do not hang your heads, noble and princely pawns. You are great in mange and fang and paw. Go to your king now. I will feel the same about you after as I did before, because who could not see all that you are and marvel at everything you beautifully are.”

Loup skittered from me, growling. Unguis hunkered down and shuffled back. Huckery had frozen all together, but he considered me in a way that told me he understood what I was about.

These pawns did not know what to do with a compliment, as I had not. Moreover, they suspected a compliment. They also knew that compliments would not change how they felt within. Only they could convince themselves of that.

But who a person surrounded themselves with was very important too. The more they surrounded themselves with me, the more they might question their hatred of themselves. That was all I could do for them, and I would continue to do so always in the hopes they would win the war against themselves.

The werebeasts blurred away, likely in more emotional turmoil than usual.

Sign erupted from the ground. He panted as his stairs disappeared to the underground kingdom again, leaving carnage behind. “My queen, you must leave!”

My, but he was positively terrified. Whoever gifted him this fright was a master of the craft. “Leave? The humans are exhausted, dear pawn. The battle is nearly won.”

“They are. I have not seen humans beaten this way before. Their endurance is limited, is it not? B-but I come to tell you that you certainly must leave!”

I would not leave my queendom. A ludicrous suggestion. “Is my strategy a first amongst immortal rulers? I was not ready to do violence, you see. Humans are so unsuspecting of the problems of monsters. Killing them feels somewhat like ripping a doll’s head off.”

As I spoke the words, one of the nearest humans tore off the head of his husk doll and spat it on the rubble and dust.

Sign gazed upon me, his waxy mouth ajar and torn around the sides. “King Raise is coming himself.”

Bother. That was news of value. “He sent you to scare me away.”

“No, my queen. He wanted to change his suit to best impress his princess.”

“Understandable.” I blew out a breath. “Though the timing is regretful. King Change’s fifth is on their way, and that seems enough without a king to fend off as well. I had not expected a king to attend a battle.”

My words about new queens had been arrogant.

Could I fend off a king? My monstrous instincts told me no. In fact, they screamed the word loudly. Drat.

Embers and stone exploded.

They exploded as if a volcano had erupted a hundred feet from where I stood. The rubble careened, hurtling against my balloon of power, only to spin off at wild angles.

Raise’s magnificent stairway rose from underground, and it was of black wood and yawned wide enough for five kings and a queen to ascend shoulder-to-shoulder. Glorious. Majestic. Sinister.

The black wood gleamed, and the underside of the curved balustrade dripped oil. A creative touch and in exact alignment with the king who had forged them. I could not grasp how many thousands of contracts had formed this staircase.

The mind boggled delightfully.

His suit, by contrast to his grand stairway, was stark white. He was a light in the darkness. Impossible to miss. An incredible and dramatic wardrobe choice. I did hope that Princess Raise appreciated it.

His face was a blur, as ever, but now that I had met his princess, I did wonder if King Raise had a face at all.

“Queen Perantiqua,” he said. And his voice was terrible. And his menace was clear.

Here was a king come for his princess. Here was a king who loved his princess, and who desperately wished to fix the warping of their union. Though my fear of his kingdom was no less, my fear of the king had faded somewhat, even if I had ruined his three-year foreplay.

Because King Raise had a weakness.

He loved someone. Unlike Take. Unlike Bring. Unlike… I frowned at the thought of See, who really should love.

I could not remark one way or another about King Change—but I assumed love might not be a concern of an immortal set on ruination.

Raise, however, loved.

I had never seen love as a weakness, and yet I fathomed how this dent in Raise’s armor widened possibilities. Where I might only negotiate with Raise based on his wants, that no longer held true. Now I could negotiate and overpower him based on his wants and those of his princess. Though… overpowering him felt a brave and foolish ideal when in the face of his rage as I was.

Goodness, how fury shimmered the air around him.

“King Raise. You send your fifth against me this night,” I said as the last of the rubble hit the ground several blocks away.

His fury blasted outward, and my balloon trembled against the force, shrinking three feet.

“You will answer for this, pitiful queen,” he roared.

My balloon shrank again.

This pitiful queen had his princess, but I might not remind him yet. “You owed me a capture, sir.”

His growl shook the ground. “Return my princess, or I will flatten this poor excuse for a kingdom.”

Queen dom. “I cannot. I have made a deal with Princess Raise, you see.”

His breath caught. His fury and growl sucked in to hide. “She would never do such a thing.”

I grimaced. The princess had resisted his amendment efforts for three years. I had forged a deal with her in hours. I found myself hesitant to hurt his loving feelings where I had monstrously anticipated doing so. “I assure you that she has, sir.”

The ground shook in a different manner. Not one of fury—a shake of tremble and fear.

“What deal has my princess made with you this night, Queen Perantiqua? We might deal in the breaking of it.”

King Raise’s focus shifted before I could answer.

He had spotted her. Love must tune a person thus.

Princess Raise’s voice rose from my queendom, and my excellent ears located her in my conservatory. I could not see her from here, but King Raise clearly could from his position.

“My love, she speaks truth,” warbled Princess Raise. “I have bargained with the new queen. She has granted me a room in her queendom. At my request.”

I closed my eyes at the terrible ring of her last three words. Exhausted humans who staggered across rubble felt the horrendous weight of them, too, and they fell to their knees crying. Some dropped in cold faints.

At my request. At my request. At my request.

One could argue that my retaliation to Raise’s capture attempt was complete. For a human had stabbed me in the heart, and now Raise’s princess had stabbed him in the heart for me. This was how a capture should be done if one could bear the icy coldness of such an act. I was not sure I quite could.

“You wish to be away from me?” he asked her hoarsely. The king rose in the air, not drifting closer to my queendom. He hovered higher until reaching the eye level of his princess in my conservatory.

Their voices carried in the eerie quiet of dawn.

“I do not wish to be locked up,” she replied. Tears clogged her throat. I could imagine that tears might stream over her blank face.

Yet she did not wish to go to him.

The king spoke fast and fervently. “Darling beauty. I would not lock you up, but you know there is that between us which must be fixed.”

She sobbed. “I thought I could do what was needed, my king. I love you so, yet I cannot bear to exist in a dungeon so often.”

“My one and only, if you but sign the amendment, you would always be by my side. We would rule together and speak together and laugh together. Do you not yearn deeply for this?”

“ More than my immortality. ” Her words were barely coherent.

Now here was a conundrum.

Such was the agonized moon-crossed tension between them that I hardly felt brave enough to interrupt. “King Raise, must she sign the amendment?”

“I must ,” she said.

At the same time, he snarled, “She must. ”

On this, they agreed. A cause to celebrate. Their unified answer did beg the question of why Princess Raise did not just sign if she acknowledged that she must.

And where was the warping?

I could not see anything other than that they were very in love. Was that the warped part? They had spoken with See and Take if they believed that.

King Raise shook in body and voice. The ruler was undone. “My princess, I cannot be without you. I live each moment for your mind and body and heart to be with me or under my lock and key. How is it that you do not shudder at all when I shudder under the magnitude of such feeling?”

“I feel as you feel, my love. I feel that and more!” she cried. “What screams in my heart and soul for you is destined and infinite.”

A puzzle indeed.

The king started a floating descent. “I rejoice at your words, and yet you do not fling yourself from the rooftops into my arms. You leave me. You bargain for accommodations to distance yourself.”

She could not answer for her tears.

I felt quite bad about this.

“King Raise, my bargain with your princess is of short duration,” I said. “If she would like to return afterward, then she is free to do so.”

“I cannot return,” the princess shrieked, and there was panic in her tone.

All in all, I was experiencing confusion over matters.

Raise’s business shoes touched the ground again, but he did not stop there. He sank to his knees and lowered his head into his oily hands. When he lifted his head again, two oily handprints dripped from his face. “When my princess declares something, then my princess has decided. Who am I without her? Why should I go on? How can such a thing be possible.”

“But you must,” she sobbed. “You must go on in purpose.”

“I cannot face immortality in this way. I cannot. I will not. Do not ask it of me, my darling.”

“ Go on in purpose, ” she roared.

I blinked at her sudden volume. Impressive.

How deflating that I could no longer relish in the triumph of battle. This was a terrible exchange to witness. I had sliced their love apart to wedge myself in the middle. Goodness, I did not feel right about this lovers’ tragedy.

King Raise choked out, “She burns my heart to ember, then demands that I pick myself up and go on as ever, though I am but cold ash. Who is this woman who commands me and destroys me in turn?”

“It is your princess who does so,” the princess whispered. The hollowness in her feelings seeped into her words.

Why did she not go to him? Why did she not sign?

Why did he not abandon the amendment?

I wished they would just be in love. I wished she would fling herself into his arms, or that he would scale the walls to claim her. I would let him.

I also saw that Raise was my creature. If I could be callous enough, then I need not ever fear his kingdom again. But could I be cold enough?

“My princess,” Raise groaned, a broken king.

“Your princess demands that you go on in purpose,” she cooed.

King Raise closed his eyes and tipped his face to the storm cloud sky. “I will do as she demands. But she must tell me that she loves me. She must.”

Another sob from her.

I could almost hear the porcelain of her heart cracking, and I could not understand King Take’s obsession with breaking hearts because witnessing it was almost too monstrous to bear.

How could King See wish to do this to me ?

“I love you.” Her words were spoken with complete conviction. Torture. Regret. Pain. Devotion. Obsession.

I gasped at the fullness of them, and the king they had been aimed at clutched at his chest, panting for air.

Oil coated his face, but despair had been eradicated from his posture. King Raise stood. “It is done.”

His black stairway had not disappeared. With the woodenness of a man walking to his death, the king returned to his stairs.

Then he was gone.

I felt very terrible. They were moon-crossed and drowning in tragedy. I did wish that she would go to him and that he would not lock her up. Or that he could be happy she was staying here during proceedings.

A sorry conflict.

My pawns had lurked and lingered close by during the conversation with King Raise. Very close, as if they might have protected me against him, even his princes.

Toil broke the silence first. “King Raise’s fifth is gone, my queen.”

I scanned the area and found it empty of living humans. “So they are.”

“We need only fight King Change’s fifth now,” Deliver quipped.

We looked at him, hearing the forced cheer in his words.

Sign, Seal, and Deliver appeared very upset, and their eyes glanced often to the conservatory where the princess’s occasional sob could be heard. Princely pawns did not love conflict between kings and princesses.

A chilled sneer stretched to me from far away. “King Change’s fifth will not arrive, transcendent Queen.”

My eyes were rather good, but finding King Take in the smoke and dust was a task. He lurked atop an apartment building three blocks to the south. “King Take, did you watch the battle?”

He chuckled. “I do love a show.”

I squinted harder to make out two forms on the apartment roof. One was masculine in form but with the boyish and joking posture of King Take. The other was sensual and sure.

Princess Take.

I said, “Then I am glad for you, King Take. And does your princess enjoy a show?”

Her voice was a delight—a haunting melody, the sound of a full moon’s arrival. She took my breath away, though not with her words.

“You lower yourself,” she answered.

She did not agree that a queen should battle. I could remark on her lowering herself onto other kings’ beds, but that would be lowering myself indeed.

I ignored her instead. “King Take, you are certain that King Change will not come?”

“What is the information worth to you?” he mused.

“Not much, sir. I could wait and discover the answer.”

He laughed. “You do entertain with your forthrightness. How long before it annoys me?”

“Not long at all,” said his princess. “You like to be annoyed, dear heart.”

“You know me,” King Take told her.

Her reply was breathless. “I know you.”

They intertwined in a very long and air-deprived kiss.

The kiss extended to monstrous lengths.

I watched as the Takes lowered to the roof of the distant apartment, out of sight but not out of hearing.

“Sign, how did your liege’s fifth fare in the battle?” I said when it became clear the Takes would not soon return to the conversation.

“Most will recover, my queen. Some are dead and gone.”

I wrinkled my nose. “An unfortunate thing.”

Perhaps King Take had not noticed my humans corralled within my walls, so I would not send them out yet. Though his poet gateman had likely already passed on this information. As it was, I could hardly send my humans to live in rubble. They were weak about needs like shelter, food, and water.

Rhythmic grunts and escalating moans were audible from the apartment building three blocks away. The Takes had forgotten me, or were perhaps testing me with their noisy infatuations and intimacies.

I beckoned Is and Toil closer. “The humans will remain inside until they have adequate housing and supplies. I will be in my conservatory should King Change’s fifth arrive.”

I bent my knees in preparation of jumping rather high, then straightened again.

My pawns faced me in a line. Soot covered them from top to bottom.

They’d just helped me defend my queendom for the first time. This had been a real battle and no mere capture attempt.

Mother heard my feelings loud and clear. A dark pedestal rose from the ground, and set upon it were rare treasures, as I would expect. Glinting copper badges. Fifteen of them.

I ran my thumb over the hellebores’ design. “Valor. Loyalty.”

Fitting.

I walked down the line of my pawns, fastening the copper badges to nine puffed chests. I stuck the badges on Toil, Hex, and Sigil, such was their slime. As for the remaining three, my werebeasts would be presented with them too.

The definition of valor and loyalty was not such a simple matter, and my werebeast pawns had won a victory of their own tonight.

“Thank you,” I said to my twelve present pawns. “You did wonderfully tonight. I feel privileged to have witnessed each of you in battle. How perfectly crafted for your capabilities you are.”

Blushing, squelching, and fidgeting met my words. My pawns stood as tall as their true forms allowed, which for See’s princes was tall indeed, and for Bring’s princes, not much at all. I supposed they had seen many battles, but what a strange first battle it had been for a queen. I had expected victory to look and sound and feel different. Not so smokey, and without the slapping of the Takes’ flesh or the sobs of a princess… without such sadness for a tormented underground king, who was all alone right now… and without such anger that a king who spoke of our destiny could want to render me to the same heartbroken state.

I leaped rather high, sighing as I did so.

A strange first battle indeed.