Maal The First Skull- Shadows of the Mind

by Theodore Packwood

  eXia forced some food down. “Stay out of sight,” she warned softly. Jil looked over at the Goor, who had become distracted with a game at their table. “The hard part is over; the Goor are gone until bluefall.”

  Jil looked at the mess the Goor had left upon each table. “Ma told me: ‘Don’t yew dare go sit or quit, ‘til all tha mess is clean and fit’.”

  Ugh.

  “Jil, please.”

  She looked up at eXia’s pleading voice. Recognizing her concern, Jil gave her a faint smile, then surged in-between eXia’s arms, wrapping her left arm around the tall woman’s waist, squeezing her fiercely with closed eyes. The black fist stood out, a wart Jil held away from their embrace. Their chains clinked together as eXia stood dumbfounded, holding her plate in the air. After a moment, she closed her eyes as well, and smiled.

  It was the first smile I had seen upon her features, and it was dazzling. It created a strange sensation within me that I could not describe. It was pleasant, but not lust. Or perhaps it was. My eyes roamed over eXia’s figure. I slid my hands down her back and across her hips, with no reward but the view.

  “Thank yew,” Jil said quietly.

  “Of course. You need to recover.”

  “No. Thank yew fer savin’ me every blueday.”

  eXia’s cheeks darkened and she squeezed Jil one-armed, looking down at the top of her head below her breasts. “We are all from the stone, Jil. Even humans.” She smiled down at her. “Try to eat something.”

  Jil nodded but did not let go. The emotion pouring out of her was difficult to digest. I became nauseous, as if my spirit form were suddenly infested with worms. I floated away from them, but the extra distance did not decrease the discomfort.

  Such a revolting emotion, said Carmine.

  I like it, said Amber. It makes us feel squirmy inside.

  eXia allowed the hug to continue for several moments before separating. Jil peeked around eXia’s waist to ensure the Goor were not watching, then lowered to the floor so that her head was not visible above the tabletops. eXia ducked under Jil’s chain to reach a nearby table, stacking plates one-handed and spooning the remaining stew from the bowl in her other hand. She bent over as she worked, and the view was mesmerizing. I placed my hands on either side of her waist, and pretended to fuck her.

  Oh, Maal. What wicked desires dance through your mind, said Magenta.

  The motion was pointless; she could not feel me and I could not feel her. My disappointment was legendary: without physical form, there was no arousal to experience, and no pleasure: just an abominable ache.

  She left with her pile of plates, carrying a half-eaten loaf in her mouth. I watched her hips sway as she left, full of longing. Aware I had floated above ground again, I turned to see if Jil had spotted me. Fortunately, her eyes were fixated upon Tchurn. Movement had become easier for me, requiring less concentration. I was able to float behind her before she noticed.

  Tchurn caught Jil’s stare and stopped moving. “You took the black metal,” he accused. His red eyes burned.

  Her Fear began to build, mixed with tendrils of Shame. She looked away and pulled her furs up about her chest.

  “Why?” he demanded.

  She refused to answer him, and instead smoothed the fur atop her legs with her blackened fist. Hunks of fur fell, sliced off by the sharp char.

  “What you have done is irreversible: your fist is lethal and will consume you. I must sever your arm before it is too late,” he said flatly.

  She looked at him, Fear building. She shook her head, eyes wide.

  “Your arm or your life,” Tchurn offered.

  “No,” she said, still shaking her head her Fear now rising rapidly. She looked over at the uXulu, but they had grouped by the bar. They all held eXia’s chest, and I could hear her humming.

  Tchurn stood up.

  Jil began to crawl away, backwards. Fear shot out of her and threatened to abolish my control again.

  “Stop,” I commanded from over her shoulder.

  Jil froze, but her Fear spiked, clutching at my insides, demanding flight.

  “Your chain prohibits retreat. You must fight.”

  Tchurn stepped over the bench as his hand fell to a knife at his waist. No, not a knife: a broad, hacking blade that would be a sword in a human’s hand.

  “Who are yew?” she whimpered, not daring to look over her shoulder at me.

  “I am…” were the only words I had time to speak.

  Tchurn rounded the table, and her Fear exploded.

  Screams burst from my mouth as I circled her, horrifying sounds, full of panic and terror that was not mine. Jil scrambled backwards, screaming herself, a pitiable and useless response.

  Tchurn caught her chain like a wriggling snake. He approached with gleaming red eyes, pinning her with their intensity. He knelt and took her neck in his left hand, needing only a thumb and a finger to hold her in place.

  “Your arm or your life,” he repeated. He drew his knife, resting the arm on his knee. The blade was serrated along the straight edge, shiny and sharp along the other.

  Her arm, her arm, her arm! Veridian sang. Before it does more harm!

  She tried to scream, but Tchurn choked it. Her face turned purple, but she did not attempt even to save herself. She stared at him, eyes wide, tears sliding out of the corners. Anguish became an undercurrent, but her Fear washed over me like a flood.

  “Fight, you whore!” I screamed as I circled. It was the only sound I made that was my own. The rest were unforgivable wailing noises.

  Tchurn pressed her to the ground by her neck, a minimal effort. Jil closed her eyes. Tchurn placed the knife edge along her upper shoulder.

  “If you survive, I will cleanse the wound with fire.”

  His eyes were a pair of sizzling, hot coals.

  A

  A series of thumps rattled the near plates. A brief silence.

  eXia plowed into Tchurn from the side, knocking him off of Jil, toward the wall. She grabbed Jil’s chain and dragged her toward the center walkway, away from Tchurn. Jil clutched at eXia’s leg, her Fear driving me to speed in endless circles.

  “Desist!” I screamed at her, between other screams I Hated.

  Tchurn rolled onto his back, but made no hurry to orient himself. He said to the darkness above the timbers, “Tor uldekku ra nekos.” His language sounded so much like grinding rock I did not at first distinguish individual words.

  “Would all Tror attack an unarmed and chained girl?” Her fists were clenched so hard her arms—and her breasts—shook, and she was panting with Hate. She was delicious.

  “She is not unarmed.”

  No Maal, not unarmed, else why would she have arms? Viridian said, giggling. What a pest.

  A cacophony of scraping chains announced the arrival of the rest of the uXulu, and they quickly surrounded Jil. They rearranged places to undo crossed chains before pulling Jil gently off of eXia. They encircled her, a barrier of giant, naked Stonewalkers, fists raised. Only aXarelle was disengaged, lurking behind the rest.

  The barrage of Fear reduced a small amount, withdrawing its irresistible demand to flee. I whirled on Jil, my fury as terrible as eXia’s was. She could not see me through all the uXulu legs, trembling and pathetic in her weakness. I glared at her, not willing to push her to complete panic again by speaking. My fingertips sparked as Hate built to rage. I would have ripped out her throat if I had had the means.

  “Don’t approach her again,” said eXia. “You’ll die by my hand.” A pair of uXulu glanced at her, but said nothing.

  “You’ll die by her hand,” he warned, getting his feet beneath him. His voice took a threatening tone, its unearthly sound echoing in the room. He slammed the knife into its sheath before standing, and the uXulu braced for an attack. With the fireplace behind him, he was darkness, outlined in fire. His eyes shined within his shadow, a pair of glowering coals. I marveled at his ominous countenance, but a cough took him, which ruined it.

&nbs
p; Even this mighty creature suffers from weakness, declared Cerulean.

  “The First Stone should not engage such a fierce opponent while unarmed and without stone to hold,” aXarelle said from the back.

  “Quiet!” eXia snapped without turning.

  Tchurn wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, wiped phlegm upon his trousers. He took a step forward, and oXellona stepped in front of eXia. “Her fist must be removed.”

  “No,” eXia said, her voice flat and uncompromising.

  “She is more dangerous than all of us.”

  “She’s a helpless girl.”

  “Even now, she could kill me with a single thrust of that fist.”

  “How can you know this?”

  I could not see his face in the shadow, but his stance changed: an unconscious shift of a foot. “I have seen it.”

  What has he seen, Maal? asked Tawny.

  Let us open his skull to find out, said Veridian. My hands twitched; I wanted to scrape them along the top of his head, but could not say why.

  A banging club caused an uXulu to look over her shoulder. “The Goor are up.”

  “Carry Jil to the opposite side of the room, where the broken table lays,” eXia said. A pair of them lifted Jil and carried her away. Tchurn did not pursue, but I did, unwillingly.

  eXia cautiously backed away from Tchurn, following the rest of the uXulu. Across the central walkway we went, but not to the opposite table. To the right of that was a deformation in the cliff, an open space once used for storage, judging by the fragments of barrels and boxes. It could have been occupied by another table and benches, but junk was its primary inhabitant now: torn sacks, the remains of a table, chunks of furs, a skeleton’s arm.

  The rear of the bar could be viewed from here. Beneath the bar top, rows of un-cracked mugs and un-chipped plates hid from the destructive Goor, alongside small piles of clean rags and a random assortment of bottles and jars. The opposite end of the bar was closed off by the other cliff; this end was Jedd’s only egress from his bastion.

  A pair of uXulu put Jil gently on her feet at the edge of this area; their chains prohibited their entry. oXellona arrived with more ratty furs, looked at the stone floor just two long steps away, and sighed. The three of them gave Jil quick hugs and then hurried off to work. That seemed to appease the Goor; they returned to their game. aXarelle continued to dawdle by another table, snacking more than working.

  “Stay low and rest, Jil,” eXia said. “We’ll all watch Tchurn to ensure he doesn’t attack you again.”

  Jil nodded, staring at me. Her Fear remained dangerously high.

  Too high, Maal, too high! cried Amber.

  She will drive you to run in circles again, said Carmine.

  “She will not!”

  Jil flinched at my words, a large spasm that rattled her chain. I fought against her Fear with my Hate, but it was futile. Her emotions were overpowering, and mine could not withstand them.

  “Jil, are you all right?” asked eXia, crouching down to balance on the balls of her feet. It was a delightful position, with her breasts pooling about her thighs, her pussy’s entrance showing. She rubbed Jil’s back, but I hardly noticed.

  “Is there... anyone else here?” Jil asked, trembling.

  “What do you mean?” eXia looked around in the darkened corner. It was empty but for shadows and detritus. Light did not reach; the nearest fireplace was several strides away. Her Fear rose sharply as I approached her, and she scooted backward until her chain became taut. Her chain was longer, allowing her to crawl onto the stone floor, all the way to the stone wall.

  I stopped between them, my spectral form a mere handspan before eXia’s eyes. The risk of another circular sprint was less important than this.

  “Yew don’t see anyone?” Her lip quivered as I stood silent.

  “There’s no one here but you and I. The Goor are at the other end of the bar; you can rest here.”

  Jil squeezed her eyes shut, opened them. I slid my hand through eXia’s head, pulling it slowly from the back and out through her face. Jil’s eyes went wide and her Fear rose even higher.

  “Jil, what’s wrong? You’re shaking like a pebble during bluerise.”

  She saw the chagrined look on eXia’s face, and looked away. “I don’t know,” she said, her voice shaking along with her body.

  “You’re exhausted, Jil. I can see it all over you, like a time-worn stone.” She grabbed oXellona’s pile of furs and tossed them at Jil’s feet. “Try to sleep. I’ll keep watch over you.”

  She nodded, snatching the furs and covering herself. She obediently laid a pair of them flat—a makeshift bed—while trying not to look upon me. She laid down facing away from me, toward the corner, but her body went through a series of shakes and trembles.

  eXia watched her for a short while, concerned and frustrated. She scratched her head, and sighed, before leaving. Of course, I watched her leave. She had sharp words for aXarelle, who stuck her nose up before stomping away to put forth minimal effort in a deception of cleaning.

  I floated over to Jil and slid partway into the ground. Please do not frighten her again, Maal! said Amber. Appearing out of the ground was certain to worsen the situation.

  I growled. Quietly.

  I circled Jil from a distance, hovering near her feet. She had covered her eyes with her one good hand, hoping I would vanish. “We must speak.”

  She opened her fingers to peek at me. “Are yew a ghost?” she whispered, and her Fear began to rise. She could locate my presence even in the deep shadows of this corner.

  “I am not a spirit of the dead.”

  Are you certain of that, Maal? asked Tawny.

  The question gave me pause. The Nail would be a fitting eternal punishment. Had I escaped only to wander among the living as a ghost?

  If it were true, said Cerulean, then you had been sentenced there because of your living crimes.

  The punishment should match the depth of the atrocity, said Indigo.

  Maal must have been very, very bad, said Amber.

  Freedom is for the strong, said Carmine. You do not deserve it.

  Before I could silence the voices, Jil whispered: “Why are yew haunting me, then?” She peeked at me through her fingers.

  “We are attached in a way I do not understand.”

  “What do yew mean?”

  “I am not able to move farther away from you than this.” I backed away to the nearest table outside the niche: three long strides.

  “Why not?”

  “I said I do not know!”

  Jil winced, and cupped her ear with her good hand. “Yer voice hurts!” she cried. She twisted, looking over her shoulder for eXia to rescue her again. The uXulu were still cleaning up the mess of the Goor, and eXia had joined them. Any leftovers they came across were eaten.

  “They can not help you. None of them can hear or see me. Do you know why?”

  She rolled back to face me. “Yer a ghost, that’s why.”

  “I am not!” My Hate surged, and I floated toward her. I could feel my fingers spark, and I raised them toward her.

  “Please don’t kill me!” she cried, scooting backwards out from beneath her furs. Her Fear jumped to near panic.

  “Control your Fear! I can feel it!” I halted my advance, trying to suppress my Hate. She saw me halt, and buried her face in her elbow. Her knees came up and I could see her pussy’s entrance, unappealing as it was, with heavy bruises creating the impression of flutterfly wings. A tenuous intake of breath was the only warning.

  Anguish poured out of her like a flood, her Fear vanishing beneath the waves. I was overpowered by sadness, unable to resist the influx of emotion, as helpless as I had been with her Fear and Shame. Her Anguish climbed and climbed, and with it came great, shaking sobs, and spurts of gasping sounds. I could not speak as its potency quashed my will.

  After all she has endured today, you were the one who finally broke her, Maal, said Carmine.

  Excelle
nt, said Indigo.

  I would have been proud to be so intimidating, but the reward was unpalatable. There was nothing but sadness within me, demanding to be expunged with pathetic wails and strangled blubbering. I could not silence them. I could feel nothing—was nothing, but Anguish.

  After a long while, when she had purged herself of a portion of sadness, her Anguish reduced enough for me to speak. “Desist!” I cried. “Desist!”

  She must have noticed my Anguished tone, because she peeked up at me, wiping her nose and sniffling. Rivulets of tears had left clean marks down the sides of her nose. “Why are yew sad?”

  “Because of you! Everything you feel affects me!” I wailed.

  You are so weak, said Carmine.

  Jil wiped her eyes with her good hand. “I didn’t know.” She sat up, pulling the pile of furs to her.

  With her Anguish diminished, the great crushing weight lifted. I felt as if I could breathe again, though I had no lungs to fill. “You must control your feelings,” I gasped. “Your barrage of emotion is unpleasant, and drives me to Hate.”

  “I don’t want yew angry with me.”

  “No, you do not.”

  She flinched at my emphasis, but whispered: “How can yew feel what I feel?”

  She does not know, Maal, said Indigo. Destroy her and be free of this mortal anchor.

  “Tell me what you know.”

  She looked confused. “About what?”

  The interrogation was brief, and pointless. She knew nothing of The Nail, its creatures, or the window that provided freedom. She did not understand several of my words, and I had to rephrase questions with a less complicated vocabulary. The frustrating experience tested my patience. She did not even know what “incorporeal” meant, but at least her Fear of me lessened as we talked. It never vanished, however.

  “Why did you pick up the shard of black metal?”

  She was shocked. “How did yew…” Shame slipped out of her. “I was…” she started, looking down. “I thought…” She hesitated.

  She looked despondent, and I grew ashamed that I had been so cruel to her. No! That was her Shame, not mine! “Suppress your Shame!” I demanded. She covered her ears again: one with her good hand, the other with a forearm. “I can not concentrate if you are abusing me with your emotions.”