“How well do you know her?” Reze’ asked, her voice threatening. She slid around Erigg’s back to stand between the pair. Jil got up, Fear surging as she stumbled over her chain to get away, and fell.
“Be still!” I snapped. She flinched, which halted the climb of her Fear. “You should not cower from every threat!” An uXulu picked her up from behind and set her on her feet, then left.
Erigg whirled around. “What?” He saw Reze’s drawn daggers, and he grabbed her arm. “Stop that! Jil’s barely a woman, barely alive, and needs help. I wouldn’t bed a woman like her!”
“Is that so?” Reze’ stared at him, her eyes large, and it was then I noticed her pupils were vertical slits.
Erigg blushed. “Yew were a special case, lass. She’s like a grand-daughter ta me.”
“Good.” Reze’ smiled, but it was all teeth. She slid her daggers back into their sheaths, eyes on Jil.
“Come sit, Reze’,” Erigg said, pulling on her arm. Reze’ sat down in Jil’s spot. “Can yew sit over here, instead?” he said, exasperated.
Reze’ turned to look at him and pouted slightly with her eyes wide open. “But I like this spot, Erigg.”
“Don’t play games. Yew’ve made yer point; now give tha lass a spot ta sit.”
“Very well.” She stretched her back, arms, and legs, making several pops. She was not relieving pressure; her head rolled to Erigg, but her neck and torso distended unnaturally, stretching across Erigg’s stomach to the sound of more loud pops, coiling underneath his arm and around his back until her head rested upon his shoulder. Her waist slid onto Erigg’s lap, and her arms wrapped about his chest—and her own torso—like segmented ropes, while her legs were no less rope-like as they curved backward around Erigg’s waist to rest her feet upon the bench on either side of Erigg’s hips. Her shape was impossible for a human to accomplish, or anyone else in the bar, according to the borrowed knowledge I had. When she was done, Erigg had gained a new tunic: one made entirely of Reze’s body.
What fun she would be to fuck, said Magenta.
Or to dominate, said Indigo.
Jil stared dumbfounded, as I am sure I did. Erigg seemed nonplussed, in fact he gave a weary sigh. Reze’ tilted her head to look at Jil with a wicked smile. “Come sit,” she said.
Erigg turned to talk over his shoulder. “Reze’, that’s enough! There’s no need ta intimidate Jil. She’s been through tha same kind of torture yew’ve been through, and she’s barely hangin’ on.”
Reze’ gave Jil another look, this one much less hostile. “Another damaged girl to rescue, Erigg?” She shrugged a minuscule amount, then uncoiled from Erigg’s torso to end in a sitting position next to him. Several pops came from her as her limbs and torso seemed to lock back into their original shape. When she was done, there was no indication she was anything other than human, except a series of bumps along her arms and legs that resembled the bumps of her spine. I had no name for her race, but it was clear to me she was not human. “I thought you said I was the last wretch you’d ever save.”
“Aye, I did say that. And yew were a wretch when I found yew. But I’ll not sit and eat while they work Jil ta death,” he said, glowering. He waved Jil over, and she took a step before halting. She looked at me, with those green, green eyes. What about her made me want to choke her?
She is weak, said Carmine. You should choke it out of her.
She might enjoy it, said Magenta.
She knows only how to be a victim! said Amber.
Some are born to be victims, said Indigo. Others are born to be masters.
She was waiting.
“Jil,” said Erigg. “’Tis okay. Yew can sit now.”
“Can you? You surrendered your seat at the first challenge.”
“I don’t want ta be near her,” she said to me, with a whine in her voice.
“Nor do you want to be a slave! Your existence will grow no easier by merely wanting change. You must demand change, or be doomed to suffer at the whims of all others!”
What about your whims, Maal? asked Tawny.
“Yew’ll be fine, lass!” Erigg said, believing she was talking to him. “Reze’s just layin’ claim ta me, is all.” He turned back to her. “Though she has a poor way of doin’ it.”
“What should I do?” Jil pleaded, with a quickly added: “Master?”
“Why do yew keep sayin’ that lass? I’m not yer master.”
“Sit and eat without Fear. Fear is a weakness; you must overcome it. The Goor, Reze’, Tchurn… even Erigg can sense how weak you are, physically and emotionally. Both must be abolished if you shall ever claim your freedom. However, your physical weakness is urgent. You must provide nourishment to your body if it is to become strong again.”
Jil slowly approached and sat down to the encouragement of another Erigg smile. She tried to sit up straight and eat with confidence, but within three spoonfuls, her head was bowed over the bowl, and her Fear resumed its low bubbling.
She is useless, sneered Carmine. I could not object until she added: Much like you.
“Be silent!” I barked, and Jil flinched. She looked up at me with Fear and confusion, and I turned away. “Be silent, Carmine,” I muttered. “Or I shall…”
You shall what? taunted Carmine. Reach into your own head and rip me out? There was a cacophony of laughter afterwards, and I fought my own Shame, for once. The voices were my weakness, and I would find a way to silence them. Do try, said Carmine, followed by more mockery. Hate grew, and I desired greatly to use it to destroy them.
Erigg fed Jil tiny portions of stew. Reze’ had wrapped her legs about him, though in a human fashion. She pulled him away from Jil. “I’ve missed you.”
“Aye?” he said, face turning red again as she pressed her lips against his. I was the only one who noticed her hand slide down between his legs as she kissed him. “Ho! Same here, lass.” He had a wide grin on his face now. “How long have yew been here?”
“A few bluedays,” she said flippantly.
“Where were yew? I didn’t see yew when I was thumpin’ over ta say hello ta Tchurn.”
She pointed to the loft bearing sacks and crates of food. “I tend to watch from up there. The Goor crowd the tables during supper. I’ve been poking around after they leave, eating scraps like a lone wulff. The uXulu are no help, treating me like a thief while they devour every last morsel left by the furry monsters. Jedd’s son is easy to manipulate, at least.” She licked her lips, and leaned forward to sniff Erigg's soup, holding back her long hair with one hand. “That smells delicious.”
“Well, then. By all means, eat yer fill, lass!” said Erigg, snatching the last bowl just as Tchurn reached for it. She took Erigg’s wooden spoon and sipped some cautiously into her mouth. Erigg called for another bowl, looked at Tchurn, and called for eight more.
I was struck at how similar Reze’ and Jil were to each other in size and shape, yet all else was opposite: Reze’s black hair against Jil’s blond; Reze’ dark skin against Jil’s pale skin; Reze’s golden eyes against Jil’s bright green; Reze’s confidence against Jil’s timidity. With Erigg in-between, the sight created a powerful image that evoked uncomfortable foreshadowing, but of what I could not decide.
Perhaps they will kill each other over Erigg, suggested Viridian.
Or share him, said Magenta. The idea made the corner of my mouth curl.
“Before I eat, would you mind taking off my fangs? You know how I am with them.” She lifted her right foot to rest on his thigh, so the dagger’s sheath–and her bare inner thigh–were in front of him.
“Aye! More than any man, methinks.” He reached up and put his hand against her inner thigh, and Reze’ let out a gasp. They stared at each other as he slowly slid the dagger out of its sheath.
Jil had been watching, but intentionally looked elsewhere as they flirted. Her embarrassment was a mixture of Shame and Hate, though the Hate I could not understand.
“You should study your adversary. Learn her we
akness, and it will give you strength when she confronts you again.” She glanced, but could not watch, even after I growled at her.
Reze’s “fangs” were not ordinary weapons. They were a matching pair of long knives, beautifully crafted, with blades of green-tinted metal and gleaming edges. The blades were straight for half their length, with etchings of a serrpent lunging forward, mouth open, fangs bared. The remaining half curved inward to terminate in a thin point, designed to puncture armor and skin alike. A tiny hole was visible close to the tip, hinting at the presence of a small tube that I was able to trace back to the hilt. The hilts, while fashioned into a intricate carvings of snake coils, were thick and sturdy. The grips were wrapped in a deep, green leather, each ended in the carving of a serrpent’s wide-open jaw, which grasped an emerald in its mouth.
These were not for show. By the wear on the leather, they had seen heavy use. Notches on the hilt suggested successful parries.
How many lives have these fangs claimed? asked Tawny. How deadly is she with them?
“Oh, Erigg, you do know how to disarm a woman.” She lifted her leg out of his lap and spread her legs, letting him see her crotch. We both looked, Erigg and I, but she wore a small undergarment which prevented viewing of her vagina.
Unfortunate, said Magenta.
Reze’ raised her left leg from behind him and—without having to lean back—lifted it over his head to place it between Erigg’s legs. This time her foot grazed his crotch. “Oops,” she said.
A pair of uXulu delivered eight bowls of stew, along with Hotun’s six steaming mugs. He noticed Reze’s leg in the air, and what was visible. He turned bright red and quickly left.
“Why are humans so embarrassed of their sexual needs?” Jil’s shock and blush was all the answer she would give. Reze’ was the only one overtly sexual. Aside from the Goor, of course. Tchurn was perhaps asexual, and the uXulu were only naked, though their bodies were clearly designed to attract males. They had not demonstrated any sexual needs as of yet, which was disappointing.
Erigg cleared his throat and removed the other dagger. “Would yew like ta borrow me whetstone?”
“No. I sharpen them constantly. However, they are thirsty.”
Erigg took two of Tchurn’s empty mugs and put a dagger—blade down—in each one. “Will this do?” He indicated the hot liquid in his cup.
Reze’ nodded. “Almost any liquid will work to restore their venom. I don’t know how it works, but I like the mystery. It suits me.” Erigg poured some of his drink into each mug holding a dagger. Within moments the liquid in each cup began bubbling. Reze’ pressed against Erigg as she stirred her stew. “I feel naked without my fangs,” she said quietly. I thought at first it was another flirtation, but she looked uneasy. Erigg put his right arm around her shoulders. She rubbed her cheek against his shoulder, then dug into her stew. Her sudden vulnerability surprised me, more so since it was genuine.
“Hello, Tchurn,” Reze’ said, while sipping from her spoon. She did not look up at him.
Tchurn grunted, which made him cough several times. He hacked, cleared his throat, and spat again.
“Mmmm,” said Reze’, slurping another spoonful. “The invincible Tchurn has taken ill. Who would have thought anything could penetrate that amazing armor of yours?”
“Shut up,” said Tchurn.
“Now, Tchurn,” Erigg said, “that be no way ta talk to a lass, no matter how grumpy yew be feelin’.”
“Shut up, Erigg.”
I laughed, grabbing Jil’s attention. She was surprised by my outburst. Perhaps she believed I could not laugh.
Erigg sighed. “Tchurn, me lad, stones are easier friends than yew sometimes.”
Tchurn ignored him, finishing off a mug. With a generous burp, he laid back on the bench, which creaked dangerously, and tilted his fur cap over his eyes. He wiggled his feet back into the red-hot embers of the fire. A loud sigh followed. Despite the din of the Goor, there was light snoring a few moments later.
“It seems Tchurn has gone to bed,” Reze’ said.
“Aye, just as well, methinks,” Erigg replied. He reached around Reze’ for his antlers, and she took the opportunity to slide fingers up his ribs. He jerked back, leaving his antlers behind.
“Erigg, why are you so jumpy?” She massaged his chest as he let his hand drop. “How long has it been?”
“Too many bluemonths,” he said, looking into her eyes. “At least thirty.”
“Thirty bluemonths?” She smirked. “Oh, you must be aching for release.” She cupped his crotch in one hand as she leaned forward to kiss him.
“You cannot imagine,” I said, growling. Jil glanced at me, a small frown on her face, but then hastily turned away from the passionate pair. After a moment, Erigg pulled away, but his crotch was bulging.
“Before yew do any more o’ that,” he said, gently removing her hand, “I need ta use tha hole. Haven’t had me furs off since bluemorn. Plus, I should fetch some things out of me pack before I forget.” He reached again for his antlers, and she again prodded him, making him jump. They played a gleeful game for a few moments before she allowed him to collect them. I would have retched if I could.
“When did this happen?” she asked, touching the antlers.
“’Tis an awful story about a snowswimmer,” he began. He proceeded to tell her the tale, and she got up to follow him as he hobbled away toward the shithole.
I was alone with Jil. It was time to provide some clarity to this wretch, to use Reze’s word.
She had stopped eating and watched as I floated through the table to be near her. I looked down at her as her Fear rose and rose.
“Control your Fear.”
“Yer scarin’ me,” Jil said, her voice quivering.
“You will call me Master! If you drive me to run about in circles again, I will slide my fingers into your skull and tear out your eyes.”
If only you could, said Viridian.
Her Fear jumped higher.
“Control it!”
“Why are yew always mad at me?” she cried, tears forming in her eyes. Fear became an undercurrent to the Anguish that now dominated her outburst.
“You must learn to Control your emotions!”
Higher still. “I don’t know how to stop bein’ afraid when I’m scared!” she wailed.
“Hate!” I cried, my own Hate lost as I struggled to fight off her Fear.
She looked confused.
“Hate can demolish any emotion. Use it to dominate your Fear.”
Her Fear wavered on panic. “But I’m not angry!”
“Master!”
“I’m not angry, Master.” Tears were in her eyes again, and up came her Anguish, obliterating her Fear and sending my own emotion spiraling into sadness.
There were shadows, lurking at the edges of my mind. With the avalanche of Anguish, they leapt out, revealing memories.
The first view shifted me to the middle of this very room: a memory of humans filling the bar, taking ghostly spots upon benches, or standing in groups, or serving—without the presence of Goor or uXulu. The men were like Jedd, lean and hard, yet with full beards, sporting reddish-brown or red hair, and dressed in simple clothing. The women were mostly plump, with the similar hair, but wearing plain frocks or dresses. There were banners on the wall, intact animal heads, and many lit torches, brightening the large room. The stone floor was bare—the wooden covering was missing—but for large, shaggy rugs. The support posts were in far better shape, and while the iron rods were still present, there were no chains. Instead, clumps of drying plants, carcasses of plucked chikkens, or large slabs of meat hung from them. A group of young women giggled with me over some boy, as little children zipped between legs in a game of chase. An old, blind man sang a song near a fireplace, with an enraptured crowd of older children. There was a warmth to the vision that I could not describe, other than its stark contrast to the cold, shadowy, broken place that I stood within now.
The second memo
ry put me near the table I currently stood in, as a loud crash seemed to break the very air. The wooden door between the trunks flew open. In the darkness of the tunnel beyond, Goor launched into the room.
Broken images came now, in fast succession. A woman caught near the door had her neck rammed against the edge of a table. A young child—Reinen—relentlessly jumped upon by wide, hairy feet. A older boy—Tunur—bravely stood his ground, but lost his head to a single swing of a Goor with a log in his hand. An old woman—Olira—running at me with arms out, eyes wide with horror, screaming “Run, girls! RUN!”, and then falling as a double-fist swing hit her back from behind. A young woman clung to my hand, and she and I screamed, but we could not be heard.
Because of the screeching. The horrible, endless screeching of the Goor.
As the memories faded, I knew then that I would never hear that sound without trepidation.
“How can you not be full of Hate?” I cried, sounding pathetic. “Did the Goor not crush Reinen til his chest broke? Did they not decapitate Tunur, leaving his body to stand for a few moments until it collapsed? Did they not break Olira’s back with the sound of snapping bone?” I would not have spilled tears if I had eyes to spill them with. I am stronger than that.
Jil wailed, choked off by her Anguish, which was spiraling into a whirlpool again.
A crying infant—Johalii’s baby—was thrown by a Goor against one of these very cliff walls. It’s skull burst upon impact, splattering blood and chunks of brain upon the stone. The head twisted backwards along the spine as the body fell in slow-motion, tumbling end over end, the horror of the event creating an almost unending vision. When I could speak again:
“Did they not smash Johalii’s baby against that spot in the wall?”
She cried out as the tears ran in streams, her face turning red from the potency of sadness.
A young woman—Uleya—yanked out of my grasp and thrown against a table, chest down. Her clothes were shredded in moments and she screamed as the Goor raped her.
“Did they not rape Uleya, as they rape you, every single blueday?”
She shook her head, saying “No no no no no no…”
Maal The First Skull- Shadows of the Mind Page 11