Crystal's Skull

All Rights Reserved

Smashwords Edition

Cover Artwork by Marlin Stark

Riley Hill’s Photo by Philina McNeil

Formatted for this medium by

Riverhouse Lit, Dewey, Arizona USA

~

Although this work of fiction uses real places and events, the settings, characters, and occurrences are completely fictional and figments of the author’s imagination.

~

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. No part of this manuscript may be reprinted, shared, or transmitted in electronic media including online libraries without express permission of the author or publisher.

Description

PASSIONS AND FEARS EXPLODE when a crystal skull hidden in the sanctuary’s core summons Crystal. Slipping into Fredrik the Wizard’s book, Crystal learns what she must do to help the humans escape the skin slicker rain of terror. But Sarah’s surprise visitor brings danger to the group secreted underground, drawing the draks from above. Glenn and Ashari must bury conflict and join as brothers to wield their mysterious power to help Crystal, while the rag-tag team chooses to follow someone no longer human.

As the draks close in for the kill, external and internal worlds erupt in chaos. To restore order and set the world aright, Crystal must transcend her humanity and detonate the third way of time travel. A way that could mean an end to life as she knows it.

The third and final book in the Naked Worlds trilogy, CRYSTAL’S SKULL resolves the issues of the time loop trapping humankind and ushers in the Great Change.

Other Books

by

Riley Hill

Deep Naked

Naked Worlds Trilogy, Book I

Kicks off the sci-fi/paranormal interdimensional

and time travel trilogy

Skin Slickers

Naked Worlds Trilogy, Book II

Continues the wild adventure of friends in the

sci-fi/paranormal interdimensional

and time travel trilogy

Split River

A mystery/suspense novel set on Sauvie Island in the

Pacific Northwest

Bone Pile

A collection of macabre short stories

set in the American Southwest

Burn Pile

A collection of intertwined short stories set on an island in the Columbia River

Acknowledgments

Appreciation to author Gary David, who has been an inspiration with his original research of the Three Mesas area and the Orion Belt.

Thanks to Violet Firth, for her abiding friendship and continued guidance.

My appreciation to frater Mark Short, for appearing when the universe demanded it, and validating the truth of all time.

I could not have withstood the ravages of all this time travel without the love and support of my sisters, Marlina and Ellen; my brother, Peter; and my mother, who made me strong. Each one has contributed to the well-being of Riley Hill in ways they may never know. May they walk in beauty, forever.

This trilogy is intended for one in a hundred-thousand readers, some of whom were born to be wizards. For the rare and blessed individuals who will enjoy these metaphysical adventures, I wish you insights and richness in your search for truths.

for Carl

Contents

Copyright

Other books by Riley Hill

Description

Acknowledgments

Part I: Demons & Lovers

Clear Waters

Dark Haven

Making Waves

Bed & Breakfast

Of Mice and Men

Scent of Human

Séance

Fredrik’s Cavern

Time Killer

Fredrik’s Hook

Crystal’s Restoration

A Calling

Skeletons in Closets

Fates

Infinite Rays

Part II: Ruptures in Reality

Highs and Lows

Occult Truths

Tales of all Time

Skal Seeks Skull

Secret Missions

Crystal’s Skull

Fragmented Friends

Broken World

Sacrifice

Power Sources

New Orders

Trap

Deep Black Sea

Seeds in the Wind

The Fool’s Leap

Alpha et Omega

About the Author

Naked Worlds Trilogy Summaries

Book I: Deep Naked Summary

Book II: Skin Slickers Summary

Part I:

Demons

&

Lovers

1

Clear Waters

The white krka rolled onto her side, undulating her belly to detach from the human essence, then relaxed in the Grecian sun behind an equally white boulder of calcium silicate. With a skilled claw, she slicked down the scales along her collar bone that had been forced upward when she peeled from the form. They emitted tiny ticks as they scraped from vertical to horizontal positioning. Using her pointed, black tongue, she then licked between the crevices to excite hormones. Encouraged by the lubricant, the wedges further slipped into place next to the lengthwise ridge of scutes running from head to toe along her sides.

Wriggling onto her abdomen, she lay like a six-foot long lizard, head extended beyond her stone hiding place, her eyes alternately reflecting gold then azure, as they captured the light of the sea.

The disengaged human form arose from beside her, a graceful, elongated female, and, hips swaying, strolled toward the Ionian waters. Sunlight glinted from hair cascading down her back, platinum against a browned body, bare breasted as was the custom. Her legs were long and firm, a dancer’s legs, and the krka watched, enjoying the strain of the muscles as the feet curled and shifted through the sand.

At last the human reached the shoreline, inhaled the reverse ions of the tepid water, and strode outward in the direction of a sailboat on the distant sea. Smooth water washed between her knees and thighs as her hands stroked the surface. Partway, she plunged into deeper water and allowed the sea to flow through her fingers and toes.

Curling into a ball, she commanded her air to exhale, pushing a foam of bubbles toward the surface. In her center, a source of energy gyrated until it became painful. She opened the soft palate at the back of her throat and the saline fluid gushed into her lungs. With its cooling wash, she shaped her hands and feet into fans, then jetted forward like a minnow.

On the shore, the krka retained her telepathic link to enjoy the sensations of the body. As the woman dove deeper, the pressure of the water built, first on her skin, and then gripped like a vise in her internal organs. Her throat screamed with the pain of the experience, but with lungs full of water, no air existed to carry the words to a small school of pale blue sea-creatures that fled the scene. The boat was far above her then, but she was in the dark and just using the white speck of the keel as a marker. She plunged deeper.

Her bathing suit bottoms no longer fit her form, which had tightened with the torque, and were impeding her water dynamic. She paused to tug them off, leaving them for the fish to ponder, then, liberated, she elongated her form and shot deep, naked.

The next minutes would be the same. Forcing downward, greater pressure, the water increasingly cold. The krka tuned out and allowed the human image to continue the frigid journey while she napped in the warmth of the sun.

How like her home world this particular place was. Except for the food. The food here was so much richer, so much more plentiful. She shivered with delight at what was to come after the human arrived at her destination: Atlantis.

The sudden energy of nearby lower life forms interrupted her sublime rest on the bed of sand. One nicotinic eyelid pulled back for a visual, even though she knew from the agitation of the molecules who it was.

Your Royal Highness, came the timid voice of her manservant, I apologize for interrupting you.

What is it?

The event at Bohemian Grove. There was a disruption. It— the man’s eyes flashed fear as they flicked from the sand to the air above her head —it was, the participants they—

Spit it out, stupid human, the krka ticked then touched her throat to activate the universal translator and repeated the words in English.

"The chosen one has escaped. And the one who saved her, or two—there are conflicting reports—they are also grenkka."

The man’s attempt at using the drak word for gray would have amused her, but for the seriousness of his message, which was compelling enough to arouse her to wakefulness. Sitting up, she leaned her spines against the boulder and waved the man downward. He lay prone upon the sand before her, his eyes turned away from her nakedness. Seeing a royal without an attached human form was a crime punishable by death, and reserved only for those chosen by and closest to the krka.

She looked skyward to see the assigned jets spewing hormone-laden trails across the sky in a crisscross pattern. The release of the EM fields in this sector would not begin for a few hours, when the sky was obliterated with trails, though on the other side of the world the emissions were in full force.

Where are they?

The man spoke into the sand. "They used a grenkka ship to escape. Their whereabouts are unknown, but last seen they were moving eastward."

Eastward means nothing. If they’ve learned to control the gray’s ship they could be anywhere. Or any when, for that matter. Her neck twitched and some scales buffered outward as her rage built.

Go. Leave, she commanded. She would not discuss world business with an underling.

The servant was in the awkward position of needing to leave, yet having to keep his head lower than the queen’s, who was seated. He settled for crawling over the sand on his belly.

Oh, for Pete’s sake, said the queen using human vernacular. Her tongue lashed into the air. Would you just go?

The servant arose, suppressing tremors of fear, and ran like hell back the way he’d come, hoping he wouldn’t feel an attachment cord strike and burrow into his spine and the resultant sucking away of his life force.

She again rolled to her side to gaze at the sea, then closed her eyes, this time frowning. Reconnecting with the human hologram, she slipped into the skin which was then approaching the underwater city.

In the black sea, the krka allowed the undercurrent to buffet her while she considered the man’s words. Too much had been ripped from the brains of these humans. They made decent slaves, but for once, just once, she wished they’d get something right. They have a party and they can’t even do that right. Her own absence from the annual event at Bohemian Grove would now surface. Why hadn’t she attended? She’d be brought before her superiors, off world, and be made to explain. And how would she? For seven centuries she’d been on this planet, being forced to play the role of a ruler, a blueblood of truly blue blood, to maintain the hierarchy as demanded by the CATs. How could she explain that after all this time she didn’t care about the plans. After all this time away all she wanted to do was enjoy what pleasures this world had to offer her. She had absolute power and now she wanted absolute pleasure.

Her human feet moved alluringly in the water as a curious fish neared. Somewhat larger than her legs, she supposed he sensed a nice dinner. Studying him, she waited until he moved close. By the chinks in his scales and ribbing along his jaw, he appeared to be a distant ancestor. She sneered at the turn of events taken by his DNA and wished he were brighter so he would know how degraded he’d become. It was too dark to see color, but her black light vision exposed a rainbow tint to his scales. His mouth opened and his whiskers twitched as he approached, slowly, a deep water giant.

Her feet pummeled him in mashing motions so rapid that his slow brain could not react before blood, bone, and skin shredded away from his head. At last the dawning came to his eye and for a slice of a moment he was conscious of the cruelty of life.

The krka continued whisking her feet through the water until the gore was gone, then fluttered them quickly to speed a distance away. She didn’t want to be near if sharks or other hungry beasts received the scream of blood.

She could return to the castle in England, call the human and krka masters of the planet for a meeting, and together decide the best course of action, but that would expose her to their scrutiny and control. And there was nothing she detested more than control by others.

Instead, she could continue on her current path and arrive at the underwater base, Atlantis. There she might be able to form new alliances and devise a plan to recover the escaped humans before word of the event’s failure spread to those off-world. For a moment, she regretted sending the manservant away so quickly. She should have told him to keep his mouth shut or forfeit his life.

Using her internal navigational sonar, she shot off like a Yellowfin Tuna toward Atlantis, already thinking about which fools she could manipulate into teaming up with her. In spite of the failure of the event and her risk of exposure, she was still the most powerful being on this planet. Many would seek to destroy her, but most still feared and coveted her strength.

2

Dark Haven

The space ship lay under control of Sarah’s mind, twisting and soaring like a leaf in the wind. The beauty of the craft, the responsiveness, lent to her ability to focus on its driving energy—will and love. Will directed it, like a rudder, but love powered it. At another time, she’d ponder how this worked, and the species that had learned to harness love as a force capable of empowering interdimensional machinery. But for now, she sat cross-legged facing the bulkhead, her hands inserted into a fibrous material appearing to be made from light; the optical shimmers cotton-candy-like, without the stickiness.

This fabric somehow seemed to translate her thoughts—via subtle vibrations in her personal magnetic field—and obeyed her intention of direction to control the ship.

Wait, Glenn piped up, while she drifted in an upper atmosphere of feeling.

Annoying. Instantly, with her negative thought, the ship dropped from the strata of interdimensional travel and became three dimensional, blundering into gray skies and tumultuous air currents. A thought form transmitted from the ship to her, and she sensed that others on the planet it would see the ship as pulsating light, either in red, green, and white, or if they were aware, as a prismatic pulsar if they looked up or out of an airplane just then. She swept the ship back out of 3-D phase to the higher dimension she’d been using for travel.

In this expanded space, Sarah could feel and hear what everyone else was perceiving. To her open and unpracticed inner sense, that was somewhat annoying, as well.

What? She was growing more irritable by the day, it seemed.

I have to make a phone call.

"A what?"

Seriously, I need to call my grandfather. Glenn shifted in his position, his lanky legs seeming uncomfortable being cradled by the ship’s amorphous and compliant composite. Subconsciously, his mind kept crafting it into a chair around his body, then letting it drop, like mercury, which left him seated in a rising and falling fountain of light.

You’re kidding, James barked, his military background lending force to the words. He glanced at Elinor significantly. His and Sarah’s daughter needed attention—care. Whatever biochemical the draks had dropped on her had not worn off yet and she still lay unconscious. She was still vulnerable to the emitted electromagnetic pulses that turned to pulp the brains of anyone using a phone at the time of their emissions.

No, please. Glen’s eyebrows crinkled in sincerity.

How am I supposed to do that? We’re not in the third dimension anymore, Toto. She scowled.

Just ... hover, or whatever you do, for a minute. It’s important.

Sarah groaned, expressing dismay and disgust, but perceived an emanation of angst motivating Glenn. She wouldn’t be able to fly well with that type of energy present. Drawing her hands through the mist of the hull as though she were directing a symphony, she lowered the craft into the 3-D atmosphere, then willed it into position to pick up emissions from a microwave tower. She was fairly certain that the ship would respond instantly to her thoughts, but in her mind things had to happen linearly, in an order that made sense to her. This inability to think in leaps, digitally, was probably slowing them down.

As soon as they returned to the third dimension, Glenn pulled his emergency phone from the belt on his unitard and dialed.

No tone responded.

Should you be using a phone? James queried.

Glenn knew what he meant. Phones were linked with the draks’ plan to destroy the world and they were on this wild ride trying to avoid that imminent destruction. He shook his head. I didn’t get any of that drak goo on me, I’m pretty sure. It’s okay. I think. He turned to Sarah. Can you get somewhere, like in line with a satellite?

As soon as she thought it, they dipped out of 3-D, then phased back in to hover over a small town near a river. Sarah dropped the craft through some clouds, and looking through the hull, could see some people scurrying to get out of the silver rain. Rain which she knew contained skin slickers ... hormones designed to make humans subservient. Zombie juice, she thought.

Can’t they see us? Glenn asked.

Sarah shrugged. The feedback I’m getting from the ship is that it takes on a hologram of a small cloud when we’re hovering.

Glenn dialed out. Grandpa? he asked after a moment. You need to get to my apartment ... Just get inside and stay there. Has it started raining yet? . . . Okay, listen. You need to trust me. There’s this goo out there . . . Yes, goo. Don’t let any of it get on you. It’s dangerous. Completely cover yourself ... Yes, you can take Beezle. No, I’m okay, but it’s imperative you do what I ask. And Grandfather,