“This, Talon, is my masterpiece. I’ve spent centuries building for this moment. You see, this wonderful little child of mine will bring my freedom.” She scratched under the moonrat’s chin and her voice sounded regretful as she said, “I am so sorry my sweet.”
Mellinda grasped one of its bulbous eyes and twisted. The moonrat squealed as she plucked the eye free. She brought the eye up so that Talon could see it. In the back of the eye, where a nerve should have been, was a tiny grasping claw.
“The orange eyes are powerful conductors for my power. One orange eye can contain a vast amount of thought, perhaps an entire human’s mind and memories. But they are too weak to contain me. This,” she held the blue eye close so that its grasping claw clutched at Talon’s face. Talon flinched away. “This one beautiful little eye can hold my entire being. All my centuries of knowledge and power.” She reached out with one black finger and touched Talon’s chest. “Don’t worry, I won’t numb this for you. I know you’ll enjoy it.”
“Ewwie! Helpss me!” Talon hissed as Mellinda ran her nail across her chest. Talon’s skin parted under the moonrat mother’s finger as well as the flesh and bone of her ribcage. She could feel the tearing and see her own lung inflating and deflating in her chest, but the wound did not bleed.
“Now, Talon.” Mellinda shoved her hand deep into Talon’s chest, pushing the blue eye past her lungs and heart until it nestled at the back of her spine. Talon could feel it moving around inside her as Mellinda slipped her fingers back out of the wound. “I don’t want you to think that you are my first choice for a host. Your appearance has much to be desired. But you will make a fine backup in case Ewzad loses this war and nothing better steps forward. After all, I could make further modifications to your body as needed later on. I do love the way you raptoids adapt.”
“No,” Talon sobbed, despite the exquisite pain. “Ewwieeeee!”
“There is a chance you will never see him again. You definitely won’t if he loses, though you can help with that I think. Nevertheless, you are mine now, Talon,” The black face smiled, showing her white teeth again. “You may even be me someday. So if I might make a suggestion, choose to love me now. Love me more than you love him because I control you far more than your Ewwie ever did.”
She ran her black finger across Talon’s chest again and the wound closed. Talon shuddered. The healing hurt far more than the wounding. She would have enjoyed it, were her mind not screaming in terror.
“Now.” She released the bands holding Talon and set her down. Mellinda’s huge form shrunk back down until they stood at the same height. She caressed Talon’s face and this time she didn’t move her lips as her voice spoke in Talon’s mind, clearer than ever before. “You have much work to do.”
“Yess, misstress,” Talon said.
Chapter Twenty One
Justan was cold. He always had been. At least his only tangible memories were of being cold. There were times he could vaguely remember warm days, family and friends, but every time he tried to grab hold of such memories they faded away like wisps of a dream.
His life consisted of one long trudge down frosty corridors with walls of milky ice. His only clothing was a short sleeved linen shirt and a worn pair of leather pants. He had no shoes and his bare feet were mostly numb as he walked across floors made of damp black stone. He wondered from time to time if this dampness was because the walls were melting, but they didn’t seem to be. When he touched the walls, they were covered with a film of frost.
There was no ceiling in this place, just a dark and cloudy sky. It looked like snow should fall at any moment, but none ever did. He had thought about climbing the walls to get a better perspective of where he was, but the tops were too high for him to reach and there were no hand or footholds in the ice.
Every time there was a junction in the icy corridors, Justan took a right. He remembered reading that strategy somewhere. If one were to ever find themselves stuck in a maze, take only right turns.
When he thought on it further, there was something ridiculous about that memory. How could he have read anything? There had been no life before this maze. Justan stopped walking. But there must have been. Something must have happened before he was in the maze. Otherwise, where did his clothes come from? For that matter, where did he come from? He knew that for a human being to be born, they had to have parents. Why didn’t he remember parents? Had he struck his head and lost his memory?
Justan looked up at the sky and tried to piece things together. What did he know? How had he learned it? What did his knowledge tell him about himself? The more he questioned what was going on, the more he knew, and the more he knew, the more confused he became. How had he gotten in this situation?
He struggled to keep his thoughts together. Every revelation seemed a bit slippery. His name was Justan. He knew that much. He knew how to read, therefore there must be a place with books in it, which meant there was someone writing books to be read. He knew he existed, therefore he had a beginning. If he had parents then they must also have had parents, so there was a history to his world.
Somewhere off in the distance Justan heard a faint voice, but he ignored it. He was sure that if he let his attention wander, he would forget everything he had learned. So what else did he know? He knew he was cold and that he hadn’t always been cold. There was warmth somewhere in his past which meant there was likely a way he could be warm again. Too bad there was nothing to burn. Wait, he knew something about creating warmth. A fire! Yes, there was something called a fire, but you had to have materials to create it.
A voice sounded off again, closer this time. Justan didn’t dare listen. This was good. He was getting somewhere. He could create a fire and a fire would make him warm. He would need wood and wood came from trees! Yes, trees were plants that grew very tall and had branches and . . . and . . . why was this important? He wasn’t sure, but it was something about fire. Yes, fire came from wood. But there wasn’t any wood.
Justan frowned. What did that matter? The voice called out again, this time close.
“Sir Edge!”
Justan stomped his foot in irritation. He was going to lose everything at this rate. “What?”
“Sir Edge? Do you hear me?”
It was an annoying voice, somewhat high pitched and with a musical quality, but . . . wait. A voice? “H-hello?”
“Ho-ho! I believe you did!” The voice laughed.
Where was the sound coming from? “Where are you?” Justan asked. “Who are you?”
“I’m a friend I suppose. Yes, in this situation, I am most definitely a friend,” the voice said. “Ha! What a ridiculous situation.”
“You’re my friend?” Justan smiled. He had a friend. “Where are you?”
“I’m right here. On the other side of this ice wall,” the voice said. Justan heard some scratching. “If you rub off the frost, you might be able to see me. Yes, it’s not completely translucent, but you might.”
Justan turned around. Which wall was it behind? He looked up and saw a faint glow emanating from behind the wall on his right. He rubbed away the frost with the side of his hand and indeed there was someone on the other side. The image was distorted and blurry, but there was someone there. It held something glowing.
Justan laughed in relief. “Do you have fire?”
“Why, yes. Yes I do,” the person said.
“Could you maybe . . . melt through this wall?” he asked.
“Ho, yes. Yes, of course I could, but only if you want me to,” the person said.
“I do!” he said. The image behind the ice shifted and the glow grew brighter.
“Okay, well do you believe I can melt the wall? Wanting me to and believing I can are two different things, you know,” it said.
“What do you mean? Fire can melt ice.” Justan said, his hope fading a bit. The fire on the other side flickered. “Is your flame too small to help?”
“Of course not!” The person sounded indignant. “Why I have the p
ower to melt this place down to the ground. But only if you believe it. You are in control here, after all.”
“I am?”
“So do you believe me?” the person asked. “Do you believe that I, your friend and rescuer, can melt down this wall between us?”
“Yes!” Justan had no reason to doubt his friend.
The person chuckled. “Then stand back. I wouldn’t want you to get burnt.”
Justan took a shuffling step backwards and watched in awe as the glow behind the ice burned brighter. Steam rose into the air and a trickle of water ran past his feet. The water was warm. The image behind the ice wall was obscured by steam, but the light grew stronger. It was coming through.
Justan smiled, “You’re doing it!”
“I am,” the person agreed.
The water spreading around Justan’s feet was warmer now. He reached down and felt it with his hands. He splashed it on his clothing. Oh, to feel warmth again!
A hole appeared in the center of the wall and flames poured out. Justan stumbled backwards in surprise, the brightness leaving trails in his vision. The hole melted wider and the flame died down. A head poked through the hole.
It wasn’t the kind of head Justan had expected. The person was balding and had pasty white skin and pointed ears. A pair of spectacles sat on its pointed nose. “Ho-ho, there you are,” it said and stepped through the hole.
“Y-you are naked,” Justan said in surprise. The person was short and portly and had a long forked tail.
The person looked down and its bushy eyes rose. “Why yes I am. Ho-ho, how unfortunate! Would you prefer I was dressed?”
“W-well, yes. That would be preferred,” Justan said.
It cocked its head. “Do you mind turning around? I prefer not to dress in front of people.”
“Sorry, of course,” Justan said. He turned his back, then frowned. “Wait, why does that matter? You’re already n-.” He turned back around and the person was dressed in a full set of fancy finery, a white fluffy blouse under a long velvet vest and a pair of green velvet trousers. But its feet were bare. It had long white toes with black pointed nails on the end. “That was fast.”
“Ho, well I am a fast dresser,” it said and smiled, showing a set of even white teeth.
“What . . . are you?” Justan asked,
“Y-you’ve forgotten? You’ve forgotten me, your close friend?” It clutched its chest in mock pain. “You wound me!”
“I’m sorry,” Justan said, his brow furrowed. Was it teasing him?
“Ho-ho, you’re fine,” it said dismissively. “I’m an imp, of course. What else have you forgotten?”
“I-I don’t know,” Justan said. How well had he known this imp? “I don’t remember much. Um . . . I remember that my name is Justan.”
“Ah, Justan. Yes, I’ve always thought it such a pretty name.” It gave him a deep bow and peered up at him, its grin growing wider. “And might I say, I have always thought you were a most beautiful young lady.”
“L-lady?” Justan looked down and realized it was true. There was a large, but firm bosom under his shirt and his hips were nicely rounded. “W-why thank you, imp.”
It chuckled. “Well, Miss Justan, I would say our next course of action is figuring out how to get you out of here. Your friends and family are missing you so very much, you know.”
Justan reached up and touched the long brown hair that fell about his shoulders. Why hadn’t he noticed it before? “I have family and friends waiting?”
“They are all very worried. Especially your Auntie Fist. She is beside herself really. And your father, Darldon the Fierce hasn’t left your bedside. He brings flowers every day. Lilies. Your favorite,” it said and linked its arm with his.
Justan blinked. Much of what he said sounded familiar. Those names . . . images swirled about those names in his mind. They were blurry, but that was more than he had remembered in a long time. “Can we just go out the way you came in?”
“Hmm, that seems a bit too easy, but let’s see, shall we?” the imp said.
He led Justan through the hole in the wall. There was another wall beyond and the corridor stretched for quite a ways in either direction before Justan saw a bend.
“I thought so,” the imp said. “I am sorry, sweetheart, but you will have to think our way out. What have you tried so far?”
“I’ve been making right turns,” Justan said.
“Ho-ho, that’s a good strategy for a simple maze, but a good maze has a series of gypsy turns just to stop that kind of solution,” the imp said.
“Gypsy turns?” Justan asked.
“Ha! Yes, a place in the maze that is its own self-contained riddle. If you keep taking rights or lefts, you’ll loop back on yourself,” the imp rubbed its hands together. “This is delicious. Ho, a good riddle of a maze.”
“You seem happy,” Justan said.
“Oh, I love games, pretty one.” It let go of his arm and rubbed its chin. “Hmm, what strategy to use . . .”
This imp was so strange. Justan folded his arms under his breasts, ignoring how strange it felt to have the weight of them resting on his arms. Why didn’t the imp seem more familiar to him? “What was your name, imp? I’m sorry, I don’t remember.”
“Oh that. Well our mutual friend Willamena hasn’t given me one yet, I’m afraid. She’s still ‘thinking it over’.”
“You don’t have a name?” Justan asked in surprise.
“Not currently,” it said and adjusted the spectacles on its nose. “Now we could leave a trail behind us so that we will know if we have doubled back on ourselves.” It reached into its vest and pulled out a bulging bag. “I have plenty of glow stones.”
“How do you not have a name?” Justan asked. “Didn’t you ever have one?”
It sighed. “A long time ago, but that doesn’t matter, that name’s no good anymore. Willum needs to give me a new one if our connection’s going to work.” It paused, its mouth open, and looked up at him. “Willum’s my pet name for Willamena, you know. Now, let me think. We need a strategy to get out of here.”
“Why don’t you use your fire to melt our way out?” Justan asked.
It scowled. “That would be cheating.”
“Why?” Justan said. “Are there rules?”
“Why of course there are . . . well that depends, I suppose.” It peered at him. “Are you the type of girl who sets rules, Justan?”
Justan scratched his head. “I don’t know.”
“Hmm. Well, you did seem to think that taking right turns was a rule, but that didn’t work for you. I suppose that it’s possible there are no real rules in this place. We could leave a trail of stones behind us, but if the walls shifted around or simply continued on forever, that would get us nowhere.” It stomped its foot. “Drat! I was so hoping for a good game!”
“I really don’t care if there are rules to this place,” Justan said. “I’m tired of this maze. Please, just burn it all down like you said you could.”
It blinked at him and a smile started across its face. “Ho-ho, well there is some fun in that too.”
It reached out and an orb of fire appeared between its two clawed hands. “Now this fire can be as big as you want it to be, you know.”
Justan didn’t understand why his wishes had anything to do with it, but the imp seemed to know what it was saying. “Then I want it big and I want it to melt right through these walls like they were nothing.”
The imp giggled. “Ho, then let’s do that!”
It stretched out its arms and the fireball grew larger and larger until it was as tall as the imp itself. Then the imp shoved the ball towards the wall across from where they were standing. As Justan had desired, it rolled forward and melted through the ice like it were paper thin. The ball kept rolling, melting through another wall, then another, and they followed through the holes it made.
The ball rolled on at a steady pace, burning through wall after wall until it had burned through ten, then twenty
. The imp looked at Justan and said, “Darling, I want you to know that there are only five walls left before we are through this maze. Only five. Do you understand me?”
“Good,” Justan said as the fireball rolled through another one. “Are you sure? How do you know? You didn’t know that a few minutes ago.”
“Imps just know these things, my dear,” it explained. “Do you believe me? It’s the truth.”
“You haven’t led me astray yet,” Justan said. And it was true. Everything seemed to be the way the imp had said so far.
The fireball burned through four more walls and then, just as the imp had promised, it rolled into open space. Justan ran through the last wall in excitement. The ground beyond was made of the same moist black rock as before, but there were no more walls. Instead, there were trees; a grove of trees made entirely of ice. And lying on the ground in the center of the grove was a strange creature.
“Let’s go another way,” the imp said, its eyes fixed on the creature. “We can go around the trees. Maybe the exit is on the other side.”
“It kind of looks like you,” Justan remarked. The creature was long and thin, probably twice the height of the imp, but it had similar sickly white skin and its long arms were tipped with black talons just like the imp’s were. Its head was turned away from them.
“I do NOT look like that,” the imp said. “Oh ho, believe me, we have nothing in common.”
The creature slowly turned its head to face them and Justan saw that the imp was right. The creature had a skeletal and noseless head and its open jaw was filled with razor sharp teeth. It hissed, a steamy cloud of frost leaving its mouth. As it shifted, Justan saw a large hole in the center of its chest. A glowing wisp of golden magic escaped from the hole.
Justan took a step back. It seemed familiar. Why did it seem so familiar?
“The fireball,” the imp said. “It isn’t stopping.”
The large fireball was still rolling forward and Justan watched it melt right through a large tree of ice. The upper half of the tree crashed to the ground, shattering as the ball kept rolling.
The Bowl of Souls: Book 05 - Mother of the Moonrat Page 26