The lich remembered – things. The body it had been thrust and locked into was shattered and broken, and, with its destruction, the lich was able to think more freely. It remembered – things. It remembered it was important – an import woman, in fact – and it thought that it had known power. It had been a queen perhaps; a queen of, of, somewhere – it was on the tip of her spectral tongue.

The lich needed a body. It didn’t need to be a dead body; a living one would do, where it could whisper and influence, if it was a mind that wanted power and was petty enough to listen to a voice in its head. And here was a mind that was angry and embarrassed.

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The lich remembered being a ruler and leading armies, and it wanted that again.

Queen, that’s what she’d been; Queen Kandake, that was it! Queen Kandake of Kush – and she would creep into this man’s mind, lead him towards all the power, raise armies and form a new queendom where she could return to rule until the stars burned out and the ground was lost under a sea of blood.