Which brought to mind another question: was this my natural height? I floated out of the table, and with some effort found my dangling feet, hovering above the floor.
There was hair attached, as there had been at The Nail.
The was a tremendous volume of it, but faint, so faint. It did not droop, despite the excess. It seemed to flow and drift behind me, like a black cloud. I reached out to stroke it, and had no sense of contact, but the hair did ripple in response. Curious, I pushed forward, and watched my hair spread out like a cloak in the wind, though mine remained attached at the feet and head.
Pretty, said Amber.
Useless, said Carmine.
They were both correct, but I wondered if Jil could see it. Was this part of my appearance that had caused her initial reaction?
I returned to my initial curiosity and floated downward until my feet were level with the wood, then used my vision to gauge what might be my form’s height. My shadowy figure stretched above the wandering uXulu, enough so to tower over them.
So. This is how Tchurn views the world, albeit with a presence I was absent of. I will not say I envied him.
Erigg struggled his way off the bench and hobbled down the room to fetch a water skin out of his pack by the door. Beady eyes watched his every move, until he returned to the table. He spread out the water skin on the table after he sat. There was a small slice through the leather, which he began mending while we waited.
Jil just watched, her Fear bubbling low as she noticed Tchurn staring at her.
“How long ‘til we get more food?” Erigg asked, his voice snippy.
“We have ta feed tha Goor first. Else they’ll beat us.”
“Did they burn yer hand too?” He said, watching her sidelong. She lowered her blackened fist but said nothing, waiting fearfully to see if Tchurn would speak. In the silence, Erigg made an incorrect conclusion, and glowered. “Tha Goor have always been brutal. Never heard of them keeping slaves, though.”
Slaves can be useful, said Indigo.
Especially the uXulu kind. So ravishing, said Magenta, rolling her r’s.
“There used ta be more of us. They killed off me friends ta make room for the uXulu.” Jil’s voice was blank as she spoke, and her emotions matched. I was surprised; other discussions about her Clanmates had led to potent Anguish. Did she feel nothing for her friends?
Erigg’s face turned a mottled red. “How many?”
“Eleven of us, ta begin with. Eight on tha chains, Gurrta and Ceddi were chained to each other. Reidda could barely move after they invaded. She had a bad gash across her head.”
“All girls?”
Jil nodded. “I was tha oldest. They only kept tha ones too weak to fight back.”
“And what does that tell you about yourself?” Jil looked at me before comprehension occurred. Then her face fell, and she sent out a wave of Shame.
“So the skinny ones, or the young ones,” Erigg said flatly. His hands were knuckle-white. He shook his head, closed his eyes, and breathed. His face and fists eventually relaxed. He opened his eyes and went back to his sewing, but his mind was not entirely clear; he made several mistakes. “Yer a young woman now, aren’t yew?”
“Aye,” she said. “Just before tha Goor came, Ma told me ‘twas time fer me to find a husband.”
Husband. A mate for life? This I was familiar with, but not the human word for it. And a wedding, to celebrate and solidify the bond. Mating came after the ceremony? Again, some other knowledge hinting that this was wrong.
“Have yer eye on a lad yet?”
She looked up and he winked at her. With a genuine smile growing on her lips, a new emotion slid out of her. What was that? It fell apart before I could name it, consumed by Anguish. “There was Rinne, but tha Goor killed him.”
Erigg’s smile melted to sadness. “I’m so sorry, lass. Yew’ve had some bad luck, fer sure. Do yew know where your parents are?” he added gently. Tchurn paused his chewing to hear her answer, but he did not look up.
“I don’t know if they escaped.” Her voice was flat, but a huge burst of Anguish came out of her as she thought of them. It vanished as she said: “Did yew see any of them as yew approached?” Erigg shook his head, but she pressed on: “Maybe a bluemonth ago?”
“Sorry, lass. Just been me and tha mountains fer at least that long.” Jil became crestfallen. “Is there a chance they got out?” Jil shrugged, her emotions flat again. It was strange to hear her talk about loss and death and not submit to Anguish, but it was unimportant.
“Worry not about their survival. Worry about yours.” Jil glanced at me with a thrust of Fear, as if I had threatened her. She misconstrued my meaning—again. I chose not to correct her.
Jedd’s son returned with two bowls of steaming, thick stew, full of chunks of roast, potatoes, and carrots. A loaf of partially-burned bread accompanied it.
“You must ask Erigg about the shard in your fist. Nothing else matters.” She was about to respond, but Erigg interrupted.
“Ahhh!” said Erigg, who scooped some of the soup into his mouth before it was on the table. “That brew warms up a man's innards, by thunder!” He dropped his voice and without looking at the young man he added: “Tell yer Da I'll be wantin’ to chat with him later, if he can arrange it.”
Hotun reached across the table to gather up empty mugs and whispered, “I'll tell ‘im.” Erigg patted the boy gently on the arm and winked, drawing a shy smile out of him before he left.
Tchurn grabbed the entire loaf of bread, biting off huge chunks and following it with big gulps of mead. He finished in moments, while Erigg had yet to down more than a few mouthfuls. He grabbed one of the two bowls and began shoveling it into his mouth. Erigg glared at him, then shook his head. He slid his bowl of stew over to Jil. “Yer probably hungrier than me.”
Jil stared down at the bowl, her emotions still absent. When she picked up the spoon, she hesitated. She examined the it, and rubbed the curved portion, as if recognizing it. Tears dropped, one, two.
Erigg leaned over and picked up the spoon, and held it close to her mouth. “Come on, lass. Yew need ta eat.”
A sudden burst of Anguish and Shame caught me off guard, obliterating my control.
“I don’t deserve it. Me friends…” She choked. “This was Urddi’s favorite spoon.”
“Stop that. Yew don’t deserve ta live, is that it?” He put down the spoon.
Jil nodded, head down. The Anguish was a horrible barrage; I bent over, paralyzed by the onslaught.
Gaze upon the mighty Maal, said Carmine. Brought low by a simple girl.
I could not respond; my Hate was lost in a whirlpool of sadness.
“Listen ta me, lass. Yer friends don’ want yew ta die, no matter what yew might think.”
“Me friends are dead.”
Erigg paused. His face grew a pained look and he put an arm around her, and held her against him for a few moments. He noticed several Goor watching and gave her a rub on the back before releasing her. “No matter where they be, they want yew ta live, and get out o’ this here prison.”
Another pair of tears, three, four. “No man will want me now,” she said, and a single, huge sob escaped. The whirlpool of Anguish grew massive, dragging me to the floor. I could not even form thoughts.
“Eat or die,” Tchurn said.
She looked up at him, mouth agape. Even Erigg was taken aback.
“Your body is malnourished. You cannot survive much longer without food. So, eat or die.” Tchurn’s red eyes burned into her.
“Do yew have no sympathy?” Erigg asked.
“You limp around the problem, when a searing fire serves better.”
I could not agree more.
To my surprise, Jil picked up the spoon with her undamaged left hand and carefully sipped some of the broth. Her Anguish diminished, yet swirling about her whirlpool was an undercurrent of Hate.
Why is she angry? asked Tawny.
Finally, a useful emotion, said
Carmine.
No longer overwhelmed, I felt my ethereal form lift from the ground. I had no Hate to draw from; she had truly submerged all of my emotions. I was terrified of her power over me.
Perhaps you are not the Master, after all, said Indigo.
“Well, look at that.” Erigg beamed. “Yer a good man, Tchurn!” He leaned across the table and smacked Tchurn on the shoulder.
“I am not a man. I merely wish to eat and drink in peace. If she wishes to die, I can provide a quicker way.”
Jil’s next spoonful hesitated a moment. She ate it anyway, head down.
“Leave her be! Yew would not be this way if this were a Tror girl sittin’ here.”
“Do not claim to understand the Tror, Erigg.”
“Fine, fine.” Erigg raised his hands. “Jilii, take long breaks between yer spoonfuls, or yew’ll throw up all that food. Yer belly has ta get used ta workin’ again. Best take it slow.”
As her emotion faded—all but that undercurrent of Hate—full control returned. I attempted to bring forth Hate to punish her, but all I could summon was Fear. I floated behind Erigg to remove myself from her field of view.
Quiet and timid now? asked Tawny.
Just like me! said Amber.
eXia surprised me as she dropped off four more bowls of stew, and a fur to wrap over Jil’s shoulders. Tchurn took a bowl the moment it was on the table. “Jil, you’re eating!” A strange feeling twisted in me as her face blossomed into a smile.
What is this awful ache, Maal? asked Tawny.
It feels funny, said Amber, but I like it.
“Aye,” Erigg said, smiling back. His eyes danced to her breasts and back up to her eyes. “Thanks to tha ‘inspiring words’ of me friend here.”
She narrowed her eyes at Tchurn. “That’s at odds with what he said to her earlier.”
“She still must die.” Tchurn said between mouthfuls.
In response, Jil suddenly vomited on the floor, splattering her chain with yellow fluid, and gooey chunks.
“Easy, lass,” Erigg said, stroking her back as she heaved.
I relaxed, aware I had become tense and vigilant, expecting to lose control to another blast of her Fear.
You must find some way to sever this connection with Jil, said Cerulean.
She is an abrasion on your existence, Maal, said Indigo.
As you are to us, said Carmine.
“What’s wrong with her?” eXia asked.
“Hasn’t had food in her belly for a long time, methinks. She ate too fast.”
eXia nodded, crouching down with a towel to wipe Jil’s mouth with no disgust upon her features. I floated toward her for a better view. “Are you to thank for Jil’s respite from the Goor?”
“Aye,” he said. “Only ‘til bluerise, though.”
“It’s an incredible gift. She has worked every blueday since we were captured.”
“How long ago was that?”
“Eighteen bluedays ago. What’s your name?”
“I’m Erigg of the Clan…” He stopped, glanced at Jil—who still heaved—then faked a cough. “You’re not human, are yew, lass?”
“No. I’m eXia, of the uXulu. Humans call us Stonewalkers.”
Erigg’s eyebrows went up. “Truly?”
“Yes,” she replied. Jil turned back to the table, shivering. eXia wiped Jil’s mouth once more, then wiped up Jil’s mess. Erigg continued to rub her back, despite the watchful eyes of the Goor.
I had eyes only for eXia’s figure, bent over, her breasts jiggling as she scrubbed the floor.
So delicious, said Magenta. I whined like a dogg begging for scraps.
“I’ve only heard stories about yer people. I thought yew were a folktale.”
“We leave our home rarely, only to search for mates.”
She seeks a male to fornicate with, said Magenta. I swelled with desire, but with no physical form, there was no accompanying lust.
It cannot be you, said Cerulean. You have no form.
She would never choose you, said Carmine.
“Silence!” I screamed at her. Fucking voices! Jil was so miserable she did not even respond.
Erigg’s cheeks turned red. “Ah, ‘tis unfortunate yew ran into tha Goor, then.”
“They cannot hold us forever. We will find a way to reach the stone beneath this vile, wooden floor, and be free in moments. The mountain will free her daughters, I am sure of it.”
“‘Tis true you can walk straight up cliffs?”
She smiled at him. “I must get back to work, or the Goor will beat me. Thank you for helping Jil.” She said it with such intensity that Erigg blushed again.
“Aye,” he said.
eXia took her revolting rag and returned to the bar.
Such a delicious gait, said Magenta. I wanted to weep, and Carmine made me suffer for it.
“One small spoonful, Jilii. Then wait a bit before tha next.”
She nodded. “I’m so cold.” Her voice was raspy.
She was miserable, but the emotions coming out of her were tiny. I could not sense her physical discomfort. I looked toward a blank spot on the wall, and focused on the strange sensations that came out of her. I could not sense the chill upon her skin, the ache in her stomach, the acrid taste of vomit in her mouth, nor the burning pain that must be in her crotch after being raped. Still, only her emotions. But why?
Erigg reached down and grabbed the fur eXia had covered her with, and wrapped it around her shoulders. “Put yer hands around that fresh bowl, lass. ‘Twill help some.”
She tried to shrug off the fur. “They won’t let me.”
Erigg stopped her, and she looked up at him. “We’ll see about that.” There was an unspoken promise that I recognized, and I was again surprised by the potency of that vile emotion that poured out of Jil.
Is he offering to fight the Goor for her freedom? asked Tawny.
Why would he risk death for such a worthless servant? asked Indigo.
He is a fool after all, said Carmine.
It was ludicrous that Erigg would engage the Goor. There were dozens of Goor here. They did not intimidate Tchurn, but was Erigg of the same caliber? I was not yet familiar with the capabilities of humans in combat, but Erigg seemed to be an exceptional warrior, if his stories were true. Enough to kill all these Goor?
Suddenly Erigg’s head was yanked backward by a firm grip on his hair, and a long curved dagger pressed against his throat.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” said a low voice.
N
Erigg tried to swallow the stew in his mouth. His adam’s apple bobbed along the inside edge of the knife that curved back toward his ear. Jil was horrified, and her Fear hit me again, like a gut punch. Tchurn did not even bother to look.
“Well,” he said carefully, “if yew was waitin’ all this time to slit me throat, what’s stoppin’ yew?”
Cut his throat! cried Viridian.
Erigg is trying to bolster her confidence, when she needs to be taught submission, said Indigo.
It was true: Erigg would only hamper my ability to train Jil, after all.
The tip dragged gently across Erigg's neck, delicate enough to leave no mark.
“I'm hungry, and have no money.” The knife disappeared, along with my excitement. “Any chance a dangerous woman can pilfer a meal and drink off of you, or does your generosity only extend to emaciated girls and enormous Tror?” said the woman behind Erigg. One slender hand rested lightly on Erigg's shoulders, the other still played with the knife point along Erigg’s collar. Jil stared at her with shock.
“Only if she be tha purtiest lass in tha whole land!” Erigg said, winking at Tchurn, who ignored him. Tchurn took Erigg’s bowl and began devouring its contents.
“And how does a man judge who the prettiest lass is?” said the voice. The knife was removed, but the hands returned, crossing each other to slide down beneath the tunic’s low collar. They began massaging Erigg’s meaty chest.
Mmmm, pu
rred Magenta. Hands that know how to tantalize.
“Well, now. Tha purtiest lass would have a fiery spirit as hot as that there fire. She'd have a dancer’s toned figure, and skin tha color of dark honey. She'd have a voice as soothin’ as tha sea, and hair as long and dark as a mountain shadow. Her hands would be tha most delicate, dainty things a lad ever did see.”
I was impressed. Erigg had described her eloquently.
“Until they slid a dagger into his back,” said lips near Erigg's ear.
“Oh, aye. Did I forget that part?” Erigg said, laughing.
The woman slid around to his side, opposite Jil, one hand remaining on his upper back. She straddled the bench before tossing a cloak of pristine, silvery fur over her shoulder, which revealed a matching fur haltertop covering flat breasts, and another strip of fur around her narrow hips. Her small frame nearly matched Jil’s, though with a supple strength, contrasting Jil’s wasted weakness. Though her skin was indeed the color of dark honey, there was a segmented sheen to it, as if a pattern hid just beneath the skin—a faint, metallic green that shimmered when she moved. Large, golden eyes added to her allure, as did her pouty lips. She looked down at him as she leaned against him. “You were talking about me, one hopes?”
“Oh, me meager words canna do yew any justice, Reze’,” he said, gazing up at her.
“Reh-zay.” She bore a devious countenance, one that promised rare delights in fucking, and danger when not. I was curious about her, though not attracted. Apparently I required more bosom than she could claim.
You would still fuck her, said Magenta.
I chuckled, and Jil’s face wore the confusion I expected.
Reze’ smiled broadly. White, even teeth stood out against her dark skin, a contrast as startling as the white fur bodice. Two of her teeth were missing, adjacent to her top central pair. “Well, since you were so complimentary with the rest, I suppose my fangs will have to find someone else’s back.” She stroked the handles of a pair of long, curved daggers strapped to the outside of her bare thighs. “You know her, then?” she asked, indicating Jil.
“Aye,” he said, turning back to check on her. “Here, lass.” He pushed the bowl in front of her a marginal amount. “Yew need ta eat this before Tchurn does.”
Maal The First Skull- Shadows of the Mind Page 10