His black-on-black eyes turned to look upon me, and their very vision forced caustic images to float across my mind. I was stabbing my brother in the throat; choking my sister so that I might rape her; chewing upon the head of a baby to relish its softness; fucking the corpse of my mate; cutting the heads off of children to place them on display; forcing my parents to their knees that I might pluck out their eyes; and dozens more.
“Be still,” said the Ardent of Order, again. His needle, glowing painfully white, was long enough to reach across our group of seven, and he touched it to my shoulder. It pacified my mind, though memory of those horrors remained. I vomited up the images, but it was not enough. I continued retching.
“Insanity?” asked Maal, but his voice no longer carried the power it recently had. The Ardent of Order had buttressed us against it. “Oh, yes. I am insane.”
His cackle was a smite that caused all our helmets to flash white, then shatter, as the Destruction in his laugh obliterated Order’s recently applied defenses. Fragments of metal struck me from all angles, and my comrades cried out in pain. Even Order put up his massive shield to deflect the awful sound, and it beamed with a bright white. Maal vanished in a swirl of hair and darkness.
He appeared in front of me. “You shall be the first,” he whispered to me, and blood burst out of my ears as a cacophony of horrid screams became suddenly silent. Without my helmet, he was able to place his hands on my cheeks and pull upward. I looked into his black gaze, as he said something I could not hear.
There was a nightmare in his eyes, and when I understood it, it rent my mind.
M A A L
I had perished during the vision, or else that was the end of it, for I found myself buried again. I chose to remain inside the smothering pile of bodies for a time, unwilling to put myself forth for another set of screams, stabs, and confusing visions. The suffocation and claustrophobia were for more preferred to The Nail’s violent creatures.
Why had the creature given me a vision of myself? What was the place of confrontation, and why did they seek to do battle? Why had I severed my own hair, and why was that incomprehensible? Who are the Ardents? And…
Why are you the Ardent of Destruction? Tawny finished.
“Do you know of the Ardents?”
They laughed at me, mocking my words with poor imitations.
“Do you?” I yelled.
Of course we do, said Cerulean.
You remain ignorant, said Indigo.
Because you Fear your own memory, chided Carmine.
I wanted to know more, but the suffocation became unbearable. Against my own desire, my arms began to push out, and Hateful tears began anew. My body could not remain inside this prison of corpses with its putrid stench, and my mind could not tolerate what waited outside of it.
He cannot even handle one spawn of creatures, said Carmine.
We should summon Obsidian again, said Viridian, eagerly.
“I cannot do this.” The words came out before I knew I spoke them.
You should stay in here and hide, said Amber.
They always dig him out, said Cerulean.
Like a festering sore, said Carmine, and they laughed.
I could not control my body. It pushed body parts away so that I might breathe, but I could not stop shaking from Fear. As a small space cleared for air, I gulped deep breaths, and tried to control myself. I could not do it.
Terrified to stay and terrified to leave, I spewed snot, tears and saliva in goopy streams as I climbed free of the tomb. There were no creatures nearby, but I made awful noises. Soon I heard a screech, which set off even more Anguish and Fear.
Pathetic, said Carmine, and I could not have agreed more.
A line of creatures crested a nearby hill, and their hateful screams rose into the air.
Before they could charge, an explosion of blinding, golden light filled the sky, followed by a tremendous BOOM. The creatures at the top of the hill were blown off it, tumbling down the hill toward me. They lay nearby, twitching or unmoving.
The flash had knocked them senseless, but not me. I felt a strange burst of Hope and got to my feet, running soon after. I halted where the creatures had recently stood, and saw not only the awful, dark monument of The Nail, but also the beam of light from the sky.
It had grown much brighter.
My body was running toward it before I decided to. As I crested two more hills, the creatures still lay stunned, but after the third, they were beginning to rise. At the fourth, they were standing, and holding their onyx-colored helmets. After the fifth, they were screeching, and began to chase. The sixth hill was the last, and at the bottom was the terminus of the beam.
The window had reappeared!
My mouth cried out in relief as I jumped recklessly down the hill. The creatures moved to intercept: I dodged one attempting a tackle, another who swiped at my head, and dove through the window.
M A A L
Peace.
The respite of the room gave me solace with which to purge my useless Anguish and Fear from The Nail. I stared at the ground as shakes began, and uncontrollable moans of relief were uttered. It took no small amount of time, I would be ashamed to admit.
When I had somewhat recovered, I looked around. There had been no change from the previous visit: the walls still burned with discomforting runes; the crack through stone slab had not grown; the corpse had not moved; the axe remained embedded in the floor between the slab and far wall.
I approached it, wondering if this was the same axe from the disturbing vision the creature had given me of myself. In the dim light of the runes, it did resemble the other. I reached out to claim this weapon called Sunderer, and my hand passed through it.
I raised my hands, finding myself as ghostly now as I had been in Jedd’s bar. How had I not noticed this before? I found I could not move without the same efforts required in the bar, nor could I interact with anything. An exhaustive investigation led to no discovery, and I surrendered to the obvious. Nothing had changed within this room, and I lacked the physicality to lift the corpse’s leg, test the crack in the slab, or remove the nail from the skull.
With nothing else to do, I went to the glowing white stone and touched it.
Back in Jedd’s bar, I was crushed by a wave of Anguish. The emotional attack had surprised me, and I was brought low.
Jil was standing by the shithole—nothing more than a hole in the rock floor that led down into darkness. Foul vapors from deposits of previous visitors forced nausea upon me. A low moan called with inconstant volume: the wind beckoning from below.
Jil’s eyes were shut tight, and tears poured out of them as if she were squeezing a sponge. Her good hand grasped the collar, and she took a small step toward the hole.
She teetered upon the edge, with only her heels holding her back from certain death.
A
With great effort I blurted out: “Jil!”
She did not look. “Leave me… alone,” she said between sobs. She looked down, then squeezed her eyes shut. Her breathing increased as she built up Courage to take the final step.
“Desist!” I cried, interrupting her. Blossoming Fear gave me strength against her towering Anguish.
“What… do yew… care?”
I could not hesitate; what came out of my mouth had no preparation: “I Fear your death.” In haste, truth often escapes its verbal confines.
“What?” She looked at me, confused. Her eyes were puffy from crying, her cheeks were red and she had a new slice of a bruise across her face where Tchurn had yanked her into his sword.
Yes, do explain to her why, said Indigo, chuckling.
I prefer to watch Jil throw herself into the hole, said Carmine.
And listen to her neck break as her chain snaps taut! said Viridian.
I took a moment. “You agree that we are connected in some way?” A poor choice: Jil looked down at the hole. “Then perhaps our lives are linked!” She hesitated. “If you perish, will
you become like me?”
She frowned, wiping tears and gasping little breaths. “I don’t want ta be like yew.” She shook her head. “But I don’t want ta be a monster! Me friends all went this way. I’m going ta join them!” She closed her eyes again, and again took several rapid breaths.
“Perhaps dying turns you into a monster!” I yelled, desperate.
She stepped back from the edge then, eyes wide. Her Anguish abated, but Fear became prominent. “What?”
“I… overheard Tchurn provide more detail of his story,” I lied. She would not understand Skrulling, and I had her attention now. “They threw the Tror whose fist had become like yours into lava. It was only after he sunk beneath the river of fire that he became a monster!” It was at least plausible, if not hinted at by Tchurn’s own memory.
She took two steps back from the hole and its stench. “Yew’ve heard about this?” she raised her fist. “How come yew didn’t tell me?”
“The knowledge was only recently acquired.”
“Who was Tchurn tellin’ the story to?” she asked, backing up more steps to the wall. Her emotional state bubbled with Anguish, but no longer overpowering. She wiped her tears away with her good hand, and slid down.
An astute question, said Cerulean.
The one who controls the truth, controls the person, said Indigo.
I decided to provide her with misinformation. “Erigg. He awoke briefly, in the kitchen. Tchurn informed him of some of the history of the black shard in your hand, and our connection.”
She looked at her fist again. “I don’t want ta kill me friends,” she said, wiping more tears away.
“If we can extract the full story from Tchurn, perhaps that worry will vanish.”
She nodded, and closed her eyes. She leaned her head back against the wall.
You rescued her! said Amber, cheerily.
For what reason? She is useless, replied Indigo.
Much like her master, said Carmine.
I suppressed a growl. With her crisis averted, I was able to look around. The bar was much as I had left it. Quiet and dark, but for Tchurn’s fireplace.
“How long was I away?” I asked, with ill consideration for the consequence of the question.
Jil lifted her head. “I looked around for yew, and called for yew. But I was tryin’ ta be quiet, because tha Stonewalkers are sleepin’.”
“You could not find me?”
Jil shook her head. “Not since I got up ta pee,” she said. “Where did yew go?”
I avoided the question. “Why? I thought you disliked my presence.”
“I was…” She looked down, and buried her head in her knees. She said something, too quiet, but accompanied by a surge of Shame. It was too near to my own Shame, my own unforgivable weakness at The Nail.
Images of the creatures ripping me apart came forth, engorging my Fear. In the bottom of the ocean, the deep darkness stirred again.
“No!” I cried.
Jil looked up. “Yew won’t help me?” Fresh tears had built in her eyes. “Help me not turn into a monster?”
So that was her whispered secret. I could not answer at first. What I said now could determine her stability for a long time to come.
What will you tell her, Maal? asked Tawny.
Many choices could drive her to suicide. With her frailty, what she needed was support and strength, though I was loathe to provide it. “We are bound; we must assist each other.”
Her Anguish lessened, while another emotion rose in tiny amount. Hope! That is what the name of this emotion was. Not the uncomfortable one, which I could not yet name, but unpleasant nonetheless. Jil wiped away her tears. “Thank yew!” she whispered. How easily her emotions shifted!
You gave her Hope! said Amber, happily.
False Hope, retorted Carmine.
Jil gave me a large smile, and I was taken aback by how it affected me. Her smile was bright, full of naivety and Joy, as if she were without worry or harm. I scowled. Such a smile was not appropriate for her imprisonment, abuse, and despair. “What can I do ta help yew, then?” The sudden offer surprised me. After all her Fear of me, how could she so quickly want to support me?
“Find out all that Tchurn knows of the shard inside your blackened fist.”
Hope faded as I reminded her of her doom, replaced by Fear. “He wants ta kill me,” she whispered. When I did not respond, she added: “He don’t even want ta talk ta me about it.”
“I will be with you. You need not Fear while I am nearby; I will not allow you to be exposed to his threats.”
“Could you be less mean this time?” she asked. “Master!” Chagrin draped across her face.
I had not realized she had been so close to killing herself. Observing Erigg’s success with gentleness, and kindness, it was clear there was no other option. “I will try,” I offered.
She relaxed a bit again, though her new frown did not vanish.
You seek to teach her Courage? asked Tawny.
With a soft grip? said Indigo. It will be wasted effort.
And your capacity to teach is too poor for such a challenge, said Carmine.
Before I could snap at Carmine, the world shifted again. Deafening grinding sounds ripped through the air. Somewhere a stack of plates fell as my view of the large room shuddered. A large rock came tock-tock-tocking from far above, striking the cliff walls again and again, finally smashing into the wooden floor where Jil had been laid by eXia after her rape. A shower of smaller rocks and pebbles followed, bombarding most of the bar.
Finally, it all ceased. The place was quiet and dark again, but for the uXulu sitting up, stretching, and gathering the pebbles that had landed upon their furs.
“Tell me of this event,” I insisted.
“’Tis just the bluerise quake.”
“It occurs every morning?”
“Aye,” she said. “And another at bluefall.”
“What causes it?”
Jil shrugged. “I don’t know,” she said, simply. “Master!”
Do you regret saving her already? teased Tawny.
I growled at both Jil and Tawny. Quietly.
The uXulu let out a collage of sighs, apparently disappointed at their collection of pebbles. They hummed to each other as Jil got up and walked toward the loft. I was dragged with her, and could not extend our separation. Whatever had occurred recently had reduced our tether to almost arm’s reach, as it had been when I first arrived. Perhaps every time I escaped The Nail, our connection would begin tight, loosening only with time.
As we approached the loft, I heard the clank of pots from behind the wooden wall where they had taken Erigg last night. A fire was rekindled in the kitchen, adding a dim glow to the pinched stone walls behind the wall.
The tall, naked beauties came downstairs, and Jil ran up to them. “Happy bluerise!” Jil said to eXia, bouncing into her arms.
eXia looked at her, then shook her head, smiling in return. “How you can still smile every bluerise baffles me.” She returned the hug.
“’Tis a new blueday!” Jil said, looking up at her. “Maybe somethin’ good will happen today.” She turned her green eyes to me.
eXia put a large hand on Jil’s face, turning it gently back and forth. “Are you well?” Her neck should have been in terrible shape—black and yellow and blue from the choke-hold Tchurn had locked her in, and more from her neck being snapped. Some of the other bruises Tchurn had applied to her face by sword and fist remained, but Jil now had only unmarred skin above her shoulders. From my knowledge of humans, a recovery this rapid was not possible.
“It only hurts here.” Jil touched the bruise that streaked down her face from impact with Tchurn’s blade.
“Stay away from Tchurn,” eXia ordered.
Jil frowned. “But he’s tha only one who knows about this.” She raised her fist.
“The danger in your hand is much less than the one Tchurn presents. And he may be lying.”
“He has only attacke
d you when no one was watching,” I countered. eXia’s countermand of my orders for Jil could not go uncontested.
Jil looked at me before turning back to eXia. “Yew’ll keep an eye on me?” Jil asked. Fear built within her, and her smile faded. “I need ta know more… about what’s goin’ ta happen ta me.”
eXia frowned, and nodded. “The Goor view us as their property. It is unlikely he would attack you with them around, and serving him would keep you away from their greedy cocks.”
Jil lost her cheery composure, and tears began to build. Anguish and Shame soared within her.
“Jil,” eXia said, placing her arms on Jil’s shoulders. “I’ve instructed my other Stones to always be watching you, even at the threat of Goor fury. We will ensure your safety today.” As if responding, hoots and grunts echoed down from above, and eXia turned angry eyes upward. “We must prepare for them.” Her gaze came back down to Jil. “Stay between the bar and Tchurn’s table as much as possible.”
“Excellent. You should have opportunity to speak with him.”
Jil nodded, and passed out melancholy hugs before the uXulu moved away, carrying their chains in one hand while the screech of scraping metal filled the dark room. They all went to the closest stone wall--still two uXulu strides away--before kneeling and humming together. At the end of their prayer, they reached out with their arms, straining to touch the walls. One of them clawed at the wood floor, sobbing, before eXia pulled her gently away.
To the tables they went, setting out bowls upon the bar, and other menial tasks while others visited the shithole. Their chains barely reached to its edge, forcing them to defecate while balanced on their toes.
I was dragged by Jil all around the room as she busied herself, though she was not able to assist well. She could only carry plates and mugs with one hand, and was soon sent away to help with the fires.
The uXulu chains stopped well short of reaching the stone walls, forcing them to leave log delivery to Jil. She was able to carry six thick logs at once with both arms creating a cradle for them, surprising even oXellona, who helped load her arms with the chopped wood. “You’re quite strong for such a thin, little human,” oXellona teased. Of course, Jil beamed at the compliment.
Maal The First Skull- Shadows of the Mind Page 19
