Savage Saints (Monsters of Saint Mark's)

I turn in place and really see what’s happening here. The tombs, they’re all the same as I remember them. Exactly the same except for one thing. The black, shadowy doors have bars across them and on the other side of those bars are… well, men. Human men. But they have a scary resemblance to the monster statues in front of each tomb.

“Ohhhhhhhhhhh,” I say. Because… this can’t be good.

“Open the doors! Open the doors!” one demands.

“Over here, sweetie! Open me first. I’ll make it worth your while.”

“Oh, shit,” I mutter.

“Oh, shit is right!” human Callistina says. “Now you’ve done it! We’re prisoners!”

But are we? Are we really?

That’s when I notice something else, too. Another tomb. A new tomb. We’re not near the cathedral, but I can see it. So I know that I’m kind of in the northwest corner of the grounds. It’s an older part of the sanctuary. A lot of these tombs are crumbling and look much worse for wear than some of the newer ones. But this tomb in particular has caught my eye because, although it too has a shadowy entrance, and the door has bars, this door is open.

For a moment I panic, thinking that one of the monsters has gotten out, but then I see the statue in front of this new tomb.

It’s her. The queen. It’s Callistina.

I guffaw so loud, it echoes. And riles up the residents, too. Because they start screaming, and roaring, and laughing with me.

I point at the tomb, then look over at the filthy, dirty, ragged former queen with a sudden sense of pure satisfaction I’ve never had the pleasure to feel before.

“No.” She even stomps her foot as she says this. “No. I will not—”

But then there she is. On the other side of the door, behind the bars. Like I put her there with my mind! I almost clap. Like I seriously have to control my glee. Because this is… well. Kinda awesome.

“I told you,” I tell her. “I told you I would get you back!”

But in fact, I never did say this.

At least, not in this lifetime.

Then a rush of realization comes to me. Like a long-forgotten memory. Like a rush of reality, actually. Callistina and I are children in a land I almost don’t recognize but instinctively know that it is home. I’m older than in the dream, or whatever it was, that I had with Pell in the woods. I’m a woman, not child, not even a teen.

She and I both are.

And we are both royal beasts. Her, the same form she was back in Vinca. A lioness, a sphynx, a griffon or something in between. Regal, and powerful, and stunning.

But me… I am still me, I recognize myself in this person, but I am glorious. Golden, everything is golden. Just like she is. I don’t have paws. I’m not a sphynx. I’m still a wood nymph chimera. But I have the wings of a moth and the light of fireflies.

The memory blinks and shutters, and then I am human. I am a small child with an imaginary bird. I am being yelled at. I am being discarded. I am left powerless and plain.

This is when it starts to make sense. I jerk my gaze over to Callistina and say, “You’re stuck, aren’t you? You can’t get out of that tomb, can you?”

“Welcome to the club,” some monster man yells. His voice is deep and angry.

Then they all start yelling again. Screaming obscenities, and threats, and offers of sex, of all things.

But I tune them out and concentrate on my sister.

“What do you think? You bitch,” Callistina screams. “I will get you back for this!”

“Oh, I have no doubt. But it won’t be today, will it?”

My smirk is smug. It’s… elation. It’s… pride, and ego, and all kinds of very negative things that don’t typically describe Pie Vita.

And even though I am still Pie Vita, I’m not only Pie Vita. I am someone else, too.