Chapter Twenty-Seven - Mother of Many

Passing Man and entering into the space he guarded was like walking out of a latrine and into a palace.

A very gaudy, poorly decorated mess of a palace, but a palace all the same. "Mem is not supposed to be here," Mem muttered nervously as she came up behind the group. She was walking while hunched over, eyes darting this way and that to inspect the room around us.

The corridor that Man guarded was wide and tall, with enough space within for the soft patter of our footfalls to echo. The walls were carved stone, notably a very pale marble-like rock that I hadn't noticed in the tunnels leading up to here. Paintings hung on the walls between archways lit up by metal cages filled with glowing magical stones.

A few chandeliers with equally magical candles with spells tied to them to make their burning last ages were positioned evenly across the corridor as well, providing a brighter, warmer light than the blue glow of the stones above.

I paused to inspect one of the paintings. It was quite large, taller than I was, though not quite so wide. Oil on canvas, within a wooden frame gilded with gold-leaf. The painting was of a large mantis covered in purple robes with golden trim. She wore a crown upon her head and was staring past the viewer. Somehow, the image managed to convey a certain sense of dignity to the mantis. "I presume that this is the spitting image of your mother?" I asked.

Rem hissed. "That's the Mantis Queen," she said. She started to sketch a rough bow towards the image, then aborted it halfway.

"It's Mom," Mem confirmed.

I hummed as I eyed the painting. It wasn't crafted by mantis hands, that was for certain. I'd seen better, but this was at least done by a professional painter. A glance at the others revealed slight variations in technique, styles, and even the number of shades and colours on the artist's pallet. "Where did she find the artists to paint these?" I asked.

"They are sent from the humans," Rem said. "Mother likes having her image painted. And she says that artists taste best."

"So, she has an appreciation for fine arts, and fine artists! Oh-hoh!" I chuckled to myself before continuing on. "Say, Orbital, Belt, you must be familiar with the styles of masonry in the region, this stone seems different than what I've noticed so far."

Belt and Orbital both eyed the walls. "That's white marble," Belt said with a hum. "You won't find it in this mountain chain. Go west and south a ways and there might be some. Near the mountains the humans call the Path to Heavens."

"Ah, yes, I recall visiting those quite recently. I must admit I didn't spend an overly long time studying the rocks in the region," I said.

"I recall the pillars being somewhat more pale," Alex said. "These could have been quarried from there, Papa."

I nodded along. "So, artists and quarried stone. Gold leaf and the employment of a few masons for the carving and setting. A lot of effort and money have gone into this palace," I said. There was a carved mural between the next set of archways, a scene depicting the Mantis Queen atop a mountainous pillar from which light rays emanate, below her, rice fields and fantastical cities spread out under her watchful gaze.

"It's that Jade Emperor guy's fault," Rem said.

I turned her way with an inquisitive "Oh?"

She nodded. "He sends cultivators here all the time. Sometimes to fight with us, but often to give the Mantis Queen 'priceless gifts'." she made little air quotes with her scythes.

"I see," I said. "Well, we'll learn more about that presently, I suspect.

The corridor opened into a large cathedral-like room. Half of it was lined in white marble, with statues and paintings adorning the walls, but near the centre of the room the carefully tailored, rather gaudy decor gave way to natural stones and bare rock. It was all swept and clean, and yet no less natural.

At the far end of the cavern stood a row of mantises, six in all, and next to them, in a little group that was trying very hard not to appear as though they were a single group, were some humans. Cultivators, of course. I had yet to meet another kind of person who adored overly embroidered and decorated robes as much as cultivators, and these had enough layered silk on them to clothe an army.

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"Move aside, move aside," a hissing voice ordered from the very back of the room. "I wish to lay my own eyes upon this interloper."

The mantises scuttled aside, and the cultivators swept themselves away with some grace. Behind them was a throne.

The throne was rough-hewn stone, cut into the form of a grand chair. Golden coins, small potion bottles, and heaps of artefacts that hummed with discordant magical energies were piled up against the foot of the throne with no rhyme or reason to their placement.

One cultivator from the group remained at the throne's arm, an older gentleman with a carefully trimmed beard and shut eyes.

I looked at him for just a moment before focusing on the Mantis Queen herself.

She was tiny.

The Mantis Queen, ruler of the Flaming Steppes, the horror that brought fear to so many, the mother of countless mantis warriors who roamed the land and ate anything that moved, was no larger than my foot.

"I am aware that judging one based on their appearances is somewhat uncouth," I began. "But I expected you to be larger."

The Mantis Queen sniffed haughtily, then cast a glance at the cultivator by her side. He cleared his throat. "Enemy of the divine Queen of all that crawls and chitters, Lady of Blade and Sinew, and Misstressover the Flaming Steppes, enemy of the Empire of Man, the Godly Queen, Mother-of-Many-Eggs, demands to know why you have presented yourself before her without gift, present, or kneeling supplication."

I considered the question, then gestured to my companions to step back as I walked to the front of the group. Surprisingly, Cinder walked up and stood one step behind me. Alex doing the same on my other side with folded hands was less surprising.

"Hello, my name is Harold," I said while sketching the barest hint of a bow.

There was a gasp from amongst the cultivators, and a shifting of robes.

"I didn't bring a present or gift, and I'm afraid that my knees are a little old for kneeling."

The Mantis Queen hissed.

The human at her side cleared his throat, then leaned down. He whispered something into her antennae, then straightened. His eyes opened slightly, and he stared down his nose at me. "Her ladyship," he announced, his voice loud and ringing in the otherwise rather silent hall, "would like to know the reason why she should not kill you for such insolence."

I chuckled. I could feel a wellspring of power from the Mantis Queen, she was no slouch, and was definitely one of the strongest people I'd yet to meet since I woke up. More powerful even than the god and goddesses I'd met on the Path to Heaven. However strong she was, she didn't quite match up. "Could she?" I asked.

"Pardon?" the man asked. I supposed he was technically her herald. I refrained from pointing out the irony.

"I asked if she could. Kill me for my insolence, that is."

The Mantis Queen puffed up, then stabbed both of her scythes into the little pillow she was perched upon. "I could! I could kill you!" she squeaked.

I shrugged. "You might try. In any case, I came here explicitly to remove you as a threat to the region, though I've always been amenable to negotiations. Never let it be said that I don't give people a chance to talk their way out of a bad situation."

"No talking!" the Mantis Queen snapped. "You, kill that undead, and bring me his companions to eat! My daughters as well." She stabbed into her cushion a few more times, downy fluff flying. "I will eat their heads to teach them a lesson about talking with the enemy!"

I sighed, this was not going as I had hoped, but it was going about as well as I expected it to.

There was a rattle, a hiss, and the sudden pressure of several spells and attacks being readied as the cultivators prepared some early techniques. Across from them, the Mantis Queen's more obedient daughters grinned mantid grins and sharpened their scythes.

This was going to end in a fight, one way or another.

It was quite unfortunate for all those involved that I was here with the intent of winning any such battle.

"So be it," I said.

***