Maal The First Skull- Shadows of the Mind

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Maal The First Skull- Shadows of the Mind Page 7

by Theodore Packwood


  She flinched, and tried to put on a brave face, but her Shame did not lessen.

  “I care not that you stole. Tell me only why you took it.” My Hate kept my tone far from gentle.

  Pathetic, said Carmine.

  You must learn to control her, said Indigo. Since she is so easily able to control you.

  “I went into his bag fer gold,” she said, Shame climbing higher. “I thought maybe tha Goor would let me… would let us go if I paid them enough.”

  “Yet, you did not take his gold.”

  She shook her head. “I did, at first. I scooped out a handful, but then I saw tha black shard.”

  “Does it have value?”

  “I don’t know, I just…” She hesitated. “I just wanted ta look at it.” Her Shame rose, fell, and rose again.

  “You took it.”

  “I only held it in me hand fer just a moment,” she said, eyes looking down at her fist. “Me hand hurt bad, and me fingers closed down on tha metal. I couldn’t stop them!” She shook her fist, as if hoping to shake the shard out of it. “Me hand felt like ‘twas on fire. It hurt so bad, I musta passed out. I don’t remember. eXia said I screamed a bunch.”

  She must know something, Maal, said Cerulean.

  Perhaps pain will get her speak, said Viridian. Nab her, grab her, stab her!

  I had another thought that needed confirmation. “Have others seen me? Are there stories of me?”

  “No!” she said, her Fear rising. I caught myself floating toward her, and floated backward. “I don’t even know yer name!”

  To Shame, to maim, the same for a name, Viridian said.

  I spun away from her back and barked at the voice: “Desist!” I spent some moments trying to quiet my mind, muttering to myself.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “Nothing!” I snapped.

  Her Fear hovered on panic until I turned back to her.

  “You will call me…” I said.

  What was the human name for it?

  “Master.”

  M A A L

  I uttered no further questions, and moved into the wall, leaving naught but my face to spy upon her from over her shoulder. In the quiet, her Fear subsided as fatigue enveloped her. She yawned, and her eyelids drooped. After a short time, her Fear vanished: she was asleep.

  I felt great relief in the respite from Jil’s emotions. They had extracted such vile weakness from me that I abhorred the idea of being subjected to another onslaught. I watched for a time, hoping that she did not experience a nightmare. She did not.

  Jedd disappeared into the kitchen, but Tchurn was much noisier with his departure. He collected the contents of his bag of gold while coughing and hacking and spitting, shrugged the furs off his shoulders, and kicked off his fur boots. With the bag, he crawled into the fireplace and squashed his huge form around the fire, an event which caused a great deal of excitement among the uXulu. They proclaimed that neither his hair, nor skin, nor bag caught fire, though I could not prove them correct from my vantage on the opposite side of the room. The flames seemed to brighten, and after a time his armor began to glow softly. eXia watched him, hands on voluptuous hips and a crease between her eyes, until a rattling snore echoed out of the fireplace. Nothing about him was quiet, but for his stare.

  A knife can make a man eternally quiet, said Viridian.

  The remaining Goor kept to themselves, either unwilling to confront the uXulu or afraid to. Bangs upon their table were the only way they interacted, with warnings to keep away from the edge of the wooden floor, or to demand drink.

  Even those minor requests ceased after a while. When the room had been cleaned, the Stonewalkers hummed to each other and spread out to rest. Most went up to the loft to cuddle each other under fur blankets, but eXia carried a few ratty furs off the loft and returned to create a makeshift bed near Jil.

  Flat on her back, staring at the ceiling, eXia was an opportunity for pleasure I could enjoy only with my eyes. The furs over her figure created a suggestive set of curves, and I watched her with abject longing.

  If only you could fuck her, said Magenta. Slide your cock through the furs and see if she can feel it.

  “I have no cock,” I said, looking down at the distinct lack of manhood at my groin.

  Oh, do you not? Magenta asked with feigned surprise.

  The growl that came out of my throat was loud enough to disturb Jil’s sleep.

  I floated over eXia until my face was just above hers. I pretended to stroke her cheek with my shadowy hand, and stared into her eyes. Such a deep blue. A sudden urge to kiss her upon the lips took me by surprise. As I pretended to, she sighed, and the combination brought forth that uncomfortable emotion again. A quivering of the gut, a trembling of the hand accompanied the sensation, and I could not control it. I felt the need to vomit and weep and beg her to kiss me, all at once.

  Not all lust and violence, Maal? said Tawny. I snorted; it was a ridiculous conclusion.

  Lust and pain were all that mattered.

  Then why do you tolerate Jil? asked Indigo.

  I peeled away from eXia. She was too close, too close, and the lack of physicality at this distance would break me.

  Jil’s body had curled up, leaving just a head and pile of furs. Trickles of nasty smoke gave an indication of where the fist hid beneath furs.

  A simple slice across the throat, whispered Viridian. Her blood will make a moat.

  “And then?” I asked quietly. “Perhaps I will vanish if she dies.”

  Only weakness is preventing you from taking action, Maal, said Carmine.

  “If you were here, Carmine, I would kill you instead.”

  She laughed at me, a sound of arrogant mockery. What I would do to silence her!

  Stab yourself in the head, suggested Viridian. Your noisy, noisy head!

  “Desist!” I said through clenched teeth.

  Too loud; Jil stirred and groaned. I wondered if she was dreaming—human dreams were often bizarre twists on recent events—especially traumatic ones. At least, that’s what I gleaned from the mysterious knowledge that came forth again. Do I dream?

  Wake her and squeeze the information from her throat, said Viridian.

  Do not wake her, Maal! cried Amber.

  Unless you enjoy running around like a beheaded chikken, said Carmine.

  Images flashed across my mind: a feathered, winged avian, waist-high to a human, with sharp teeth upon its beak and nasty claws upon its three-toed feet. Other images: removing the feathers, cutting off wings and feet, opening up the body to spill the innards out. Humans use them for sustenance? I paused.

  “How do you know of chikkens?” I asked the voices.

  We know… began Cerulean.

  Shhhh, said Tawny, whispering. Do not tell him our secrets!

  He will not figure it out, said Carmine. Look how confused he is.

  They know… what I know? I did not understand what a chikken was, yet Carmine knew. They knew about Jil, and eXia, and The Nail: they had responded to events I witnessed with my eyes and ears. How could they do this? Could they hear every word, see every image, even corrupt my own thoughts? How would I be able to rest?

  There is no rest for one such as you, said Indigo.

  You are too afraid, too timid, said Amber.

  Unable to make the brutal decisions, said Viridian.

  “Desist!” There was no escaping them!

  Doomed to wander, incorporeal, with no chance for release, said Magenta.

  You lack reason and suffer huge gaps of knowledge, said Cerulean.

  If only you could remember, said Tawny, a feigned pout in her voice.

  If only you were anything other than worthless, said Carmine.

  “Desist, desist, desist!” I cried. My fingers clawed through my skull, to no effect.

  Look, he is already failing, said Indigo.

  He will start begging soon, said Carmine.

  Begging us to stop! said Magenta, laughing.

>   “Desist,” I whimpered.

  HATE, boomed Obsidian.

  My head exploded with pain, as if fists pummeled the interior of my skull. My mouth stretched, but no sound escaped: the pain had crippled me into stasis.

  RAGE, boomed Obsidian.

  The ocean of insanity surged from beneath the wooden timbers. I stared in horror as the waters rapidly swallowed Jil, then eXia, rising to my knees. No one seemed to notice! Within moments it was higher than the tables, and waist-high on the remaining uXulu.

  I panicked, splashing the waters to rescue eXia, but the sea was too dark. Too dark, now up to my neck.

  I struggled to swim higher, but the ocean engulfed me. I was drowning, drowning, choking and gagging…

  DESTRUCTION, boomed Obsidian.

  A maniacal laugh spurt from my mouth as it took me.

  N

  The makeshift door slammed open, which hauled me out of the ocean. A vicious wind howled into the room, seeming to push the Goor along. They flowed through the opening like an avalanche, filling the room within moments. Most of them were panting and quickly collapsed onto benches and floors.

  Giggles and cackles and scornful laughs echoed, fading rapidly. Confusion pestered, making the bar unrecognizable at first. A sudden panic made me spin: where are the creatures of The Nail? Where is the ocean?

  Jil was still asleep, but eXia was sitting up, rubbing her eyes. She was alive and unharmed, filling me with relief. Her huge breasts rested atop her furs, and they were not wet. The furs were dry, as was the floor, and the tables.

  There was no sign there had been an ocean.

  Maal thinks the ocean was real, said Carmine, laughing with others.

  “Was it not? Who is Obsidian?” I demanded. I was not afraid to hear the answer, despite the weakness in my voice.

  Shhhh! hissed Amber. Do not say his name!

  Let Maal wake the black one again, said Indigo. It is enjoyable to watch him squirm.

  I wonder if he will fathom what truly happened, said Cerulean.

  “What did you use me for?” I snapped at the voices.

  We used you, oh, yes, purred Magenta.

  Will he notice the walls? asked Tawny.

  In the dark corner, above the ruined table, there were marks upon the stone, barely visible in the shadows. As I floated closer, the marks refined into shallow, vertical lines—cuts in the stone that appeared to be the scrape of claws. My long fingers fit well into the lines, and I backed up in shock. Several dozen scratches had been clawed onto the surface, leaving a pattern upon the wall.

  “How did I do this? I am incorporeal.”

  We had to be so quiet, said Amber, timidly. We did not want to wake the pretty women.

  The marks made words. ‘By Blood and by Voice… By Blood and by Voice…’ repeated several times, etched in different sizes and angles across the wall. The phrase was familiar, yet its purpose was lost. Why did I endure a sudden chill?

  “What does it mean?” I yelled, frustration leading to Hate.

  “What’s what?” said Jil, her voice bleary.

  “Quickly, Jil. The Goor are back,” eXia said. She had discarded her furs, and stood naked before me, a sight so glorious I could only stare. “Jil!”

  Jil blinked her saggy eyes, shook her head to clear it. eXia rushed off, to join the other uXulu at the bar. Jil looked about and found me behind her.

  “Your Fear is rising.” I said. “Control it.”

  She began to tremble, but stood up and hurried to the bar without looking at me again.

  So easily cowed, said Indigo. Mold her into something useful or be rid of her.

  “uXulu task: serve! All task: eat!” Rop hollered. The Stonewalkers grabbed mugs and bowls, already filled by Jedd. Their chains trailed behind their delicious figures as they moved about the room, their screeches strangely loud in the mix of quiet Goor. Only their labored breathing was audible, and some had laid fuzzy heads on tabletops, hands atop them.

  Jil pulled me with her as she served the Goor, catching me with nervous glances. She spilled several times, hampered by her blackened fist. She was often escorted by an uXulu, but violent demands separated them. Her vulnerability was as obvious as her emaciation, and equally repellent.

  As the meal progressed, the Goor became more animated. Their voices grew, eventually rising to the excitement of the previous meal. After all the Goor had been fed at least once, Jil and I were at the bar waiting with empty mugs. Jedd had gone behind the wall, leaving a different tall, thin human to refill drinks. A faint beard hinted at the early stages of adulthood. His head had a floppy, flat patch of sandy hair, and light brown eyes which had trouble making eye contact.

  “Another timid human? Are you all this meek?” Jil looked askance at me, only her rise in Fear an acknowledgment of my questions.

  “Uh, how many mugs?” he asked Jil.

  “Three, Hotun, if yew please,” she replied, though it was obvious she had three empty mugs. She could do little but glance at his eyes, and their mutual awkwardness was repugnant. She noticed his wandering eyes dip to her naked chest, and blushed. She could have simply chosen to step closer to the bar—it was as high as her chin—but instead she covered her breasts with her hands, and looked away. Her Shame grew, but fortunately it was mild. It was not enough to keep me quiet.

  “He has certainly seen you raped by the Goor. Why are you ashamed of him seeing you naked?”

  The Shame and Anguish she blasted me with were almost dizzying. She hid her face within her good elbow.

  Well done, Maal, said Carmine, laughing. Now enjoy your reward!

  Jil’s chest heaved with deep breaths, but no sobs escaped her. Instead, I was punished by the feelings I had exacted from her. The Anguish left me saddened as I watched her suffer, and the Shame made me regret my question. No! Those were her emotions! It was time to be quiet; somehow I had punished her with my words.

  There is wisdom in silence, after all, said Cerulean.

  A short time later Hotun set four full mugs upon the bar, and though he tried to speak, he failed. Jil snatched up the mugs and fled. I was dragged with her, relieved as her emotions sank to tolerable levels.

  eXia intercepted. “Some of the Goor are watching you, Jil.” As Jil cringed, eXia said, “Bring those to Tchurn instead.”

  Jil looked over at Tchurn. He had crawled out of his fireplace when the Goor returned, coughing and complaining at the noise. His silvery bag lay spilled open again, but his table was otherwise empty. He had watched with glowering red eyes as the entirety of the Goor were served first. I chuckled at his irritation: there was Pride in him, after all.

  Jil’s Fear rose, and eXia noticed. “All of us will be watching. Very closely.” she said, then walked away. I let her pass through me, and sighed.

  Tchurn watched her approach, and as she delivered a mug. His mouth turned down, and she noticed. She put another mug down, then a third and fourth. Only then did he reach for one.

  “Yew need to pay fer that,” said the boy. He had followed Jil out to the table with two bowls of stew. “Yew can pay her, uh, I mean, Jil.” Hotun looked at her, blushed darkly, and scampered back to the bar. Jil turned to Tchurn, her Fear high.

  “He will not attack you with so many Goor present,” I said, attempting to quell her Fear. The idea I had to submit to her weakness was aggravating, yet she had already trained me to avoid terrorizing her.

  DIE! shouted Viridian, startling me. Several voices laughed as I contained my sizzling Hate. Jil had not jumped; I was certain she could not hear them now.

  Tchurn stared at her with glowing red eyes, silent.

  “Please don’t hurt me,” Jil managed to say, meekly. Her big green eyes looked up at him, even though he was seated upon the bench. Tchurn’s brow furrowed, and he wiped snot on a fur. He looked down at her blackened fist, then back up.

  “Does it burn?” he asked. The unexpected question surprised both of us, but her Fear lessened by a small margin.

  W
here is the aggressive, violent Tror? asked Tawny.

  Dis-ap-point-ing, said Viridian. Point point point point point.

  Jil raised her fist to look at it. “It hurts all tha time.”

  “Always?” Jil nodded. “What type of pain?”

  She thought for a moment. “’Tis like bunches of needles.”

  “No,” Tchurn said. “Inside.”

  “That’s what I mean,” she said. “Needles inside me hand.”

  Tchurn was silent, watching her as she squirmed under his gaze.

  “Are yew gonna pay?” she asked, almost a squeak.

  “Give me your fist.”

  “No!” she said, taking a step back. Her Fear spiked, leaving me tense.

  “The uXulu are watching,” I reminded her. She looked around and a pair of them nodded at her. Her Fear lessened, giving me reason to relax.

  He let go of his furs, put his huge hands behind his back. “I want to examine it.” A fur slid to the floor, and something beneath the others glinted.

  “I thought yew’d seen it before.”

  “No. I only heard of it for several bluemonths. It was toward the end that I witnessed it.”

  She took a step closer, her Fear very high, and held the black fist toward him, the rest of her ready to leap away. Tchurn leaned forward, close enough to have the red light from his eyes highlight the spikes. He leaned away, and his hands came around as he coughed. He gathered his remaining furs and said: “Be strong and allow me to remove it.”

  “Yew don’t know of another way?”

  “It is your only chance to survive.” Anguish flooded out of her, and Tchurn’s face changed.

  Does he have compassion, after all? asked Tawny.

  There is no greater enemy to power than sympathy, said Indigo.

  “The Tror performed many experiments to remove the one on C’theth’s hand. The more they tried, the faster the char grew.”

  Jil’s eyes widened. “It gets bigger?”

  “It will spread up your arm, then across your body. C’theth was barely recognizable when we forced him into Trorenok’s blood.”

  Indeed? asked Cerulean.

  Tchurn put a knobby finger on one of the gleaming coins in front of him and flicked it over at Jil. She missed it, and had to bend over to pick it up. Tchurn surged toward her and grabbed her shoulders as she stood, giving her a burst of Fear which nearly drove me to circles again. “It will destroy you,” he said fiercely. “Let me cleanse you of it.”

 

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