The Secrets of Starpoint Mountain

by Bill Albert

  “Where’s Maura?” Kavelle asked after an uncomfortable pause.

  “She won’t be coming with us,” Gallif said quickly and turned to look at Snow.

  Kavelle decided not to pursue it and continued with, “Brox should be here soon. He said he will have an assistant coming with him.”

  Almost on cue two riders on horseback entered. Brox, much to Gallif’s surprise, was a hobgoblin. He was just less than four feet tall but wore specially made metal armor that made him look quite impressive. She had to admit only a very strong and exceptionally talented hobgoblin could wear the heavy piecemeal. The horse he was riding was a pure black stallion.

  The second rider was a human male whose horse was heavily loaded with saddle bags. The man wore a simple fur lined cape with no special markings and a hood that covered most of his face. The man quickly dismounted his horse and helped Brox to the ground. The man stood back and looked at the ground.

  “Are you ready?” Brox asked all of them but didn’t wait for them to answer. “I want to get going.”

  “And who is this?” Gallif asked, looking at the man in the robes, after they had introduced themselves to the hobgoblin.

  “He is my assistant,” Brox stood with his hands on his hips. “He responds to me and me alone and only I can tell him what to do unless otherwise instructed. He will keep a written journal of my trip, keep track of supplies that we carry, and keep the maps we will have.”

  Gallif and Kavelle looked at each other quickly and raised their eyebrows in suspicion.

  “Does he have a name?” Gallif asked.

  “Not to you,” Brox said flatly. “I thought there would be more.”

  “There was,” Gallif said trying to hold back her emotions. “She’s won’t be coming with us.”

  Brox looked at her for a clue as to why. Finding none, he then finally said, “We will be at the ice fields in three days.”

  “Three days to go twenty miles?” Gallif asked.

  “Yes,” Brox said and shot her a look of impatience. He didn’t bother to explain to her why and continued. “We should go.”

  “In a few minutes,” Kavelle said. “We just have a few things to load up on our horses.”

  “So, get moving,” Brox said with a lengthy sigh. “I was hoping you would have had all of that completed before I got here.” He snapped his fingers and his assistant helped him mount his horse. “Three days to the ice fields,” he said almost with pride. “If the weather is good, we will be at Bitran’s farm in two weeks.”

  Gallif stopped just as she was loading a few saddle bags to think about what their guide had said. Something about the number of days it would take to get there bothered her, but she couldn’t pinpoint what it was. She was pulled back to what was happening as Brox cleared his throat in a very loud and theatrical way. She quickly finished.

  “Hoy,” came a hearty bellow as another rider entered the barn. Jakobus, mounted on a tan colored horse wearing blue tinted armor, was also a very impressive sight. He brought his horse to a stop and quickly jumped to the floor. He politely introduced himself to everyone.

  “Another change I was unaware of,” Brox said to Kavelle with irritation.

  “I made the decision that he could join us,” Gallif said before Kavelle could answer.

  “Why?” Brox glared at her.

  “He has just cause,” she said. She was already tired of this hobgoblin’s attitude and decided it was time to put him in his place.

  “You have, of course, heard of the events at Bitran’s estate,” Jakobus looked at Brox with great confidence. “My mother was one of those killed in the barn.”

  Brox sat back on his mount and looked at Jakobus, then Gallif, then slowly nodded respectfully. “Yes,” he said. “At least we have the same number we started with.”

  “Besides,” Jakobus said as he returned to his horse. He pulled ten torches from a saddle bag that were exactly like the ones Gallif had used to burn the spices. “Who better to take to the ice fields than someone who’s an expert at fires?”

  TWENTY-THREE:

  SPIRITS OF NATURE

  It didn’t take long for them all to understand why it would take three days to travel a relatively short distance. A mile north of Primor the land became very difficult quite quickly. There were many steep hills and gorges to travel along with absolutely no bridges to make the path easier. Once they got to the rocky cliffs, Gallif estimated, it would take them almost three hours to get down to a ravine. Three hours not going forward or backward, just sideways. Once they were at the bottom it was only a short distance before they had to travel the same way back up.

  They also realized that due to the rough terrain the sun was above the horizon for much shorter time and they finished early the first night. Gallif guessed they had only traveled two miles that day but did not want to give Brox the satisfaction of asking.

  Jakobus backed up his claims and created a very bright and intense fire rather quickly for them. It was hot enough that they could stand thirty feet away from the flame and still stay comfortably warm.

  They hadn’t spoken much that day. The terrain was rough and even a horse as good as Snow had found it difficult and took all of their concentration. They exchanged a few words as they ate dried lamb that the assistant provided and then they each found a comfortable spot to sleep for the night.

  Kavelle spoke her prayers quickly and quietly. Jakobus proved his voice was as good as his fire making abilities and several of them fell asleep listening to his beautiful hymns.

  Gallif made a soft bed with a fur blanket not far from the fire. It was warm enough that she could sleep on top of the blanket and lay with her back to the flames.

  It took her a long time to get to sleep. She tried to guess how far Maura could have traveled from Primor. Though she knew the physical distance between them was growing she felt the opposite with her emotions. Occasionally, in her weaker moments, she wondered if what had happened had been wrong, but when the emotional memories came back to her the doubts disappeared.

  ***

  They all awoke early the next morning to the sound of more dwarven hymns and started riding as soon as possible. Brox and his assistant took the lead, Jakobus in the center and Gallif and Kavelle brought up the rear.

  They made much better progress on the second day and were within sight of the ice fields when Brox called for them to stop for the night.

  “It’s going to get a lot colder from here on out,” Brox said. “I want to take tonight to get all of the horses ready for the ice fields.”

  Kavelle had told him about the hoods that Gallif had ordered and he told them to place them on each of the horses for the night. The horses would not be able to see at all with the hoods and though Brox’s, his assistant’s horse, and Snow didn’t react to the blindness the other two horses snorted and jittered in protest. Brox tried to get the horses to calm down but had little success. Gallif patted Snow and muttered a few words to her and then lead her over to where the jittery horses were. Once there the touchy horses calmed down considerably and huddled next to Snow. Gallif could feel Brox’s eyes on her as she walked away.

  She kept walking until she was far from the fire to get a clear view of the sky but could still feel the warmth on her back. From where she stood she could see the sky spirits that Rayjen had described to her on the northern horizon. They were so far away she could see varying shades of colors, but nothing distinct. She gasped in surprise and pleasure when she realized they were moving in her direction.

  As they got closer she could see the distinct color difference in the strands of lights. They were also spreading across the sky and she knew they would be quite bright when they completely engulfed the area of land they were camping in.

  An incredibly large strand of light in a bright shade of green reminded her of Rayjen. He had worn robes of the same color during his lectures and she had always thought how much they stood out amongst the gray and blue tones of the school. She smiled warm
ly at the thought of her old teacher, friend, and confidant and hoped he would be proud of the way she had handled herself so far.

  She heard Kavelle approaching but couldn’t take her eyes off of the sky spirits.

  “If you think they are beautiful now wait until we really get out on the ice,” Kavelle said. “When you get high on the fields the reflection makes you feel like you are engulfed in the lights completely.”

  “They move so quickly,” Gallif said as a stream of orange lights suddenly swirled into a blue cloud. “Is it a casting?”

  “No,” Kavelle said. “At least, I should say, I don’t think so. For hundreds of years people debated if they were natural or casting or something else entirely until finally one day a man named Panace asked what difference it would make. The most important question was if they were beautiful or not and nothing else really mattered.”

  “Panace was a very wise man.”

  “Yes,” Kavelle agreed as a small spot of blue quickly changed to a bright red and then faded out of the sky to be replaced by yellow.

  “You grew up here?” Gallif asked.

  “Yes.”

  “I can’t imagine what it would be like to have grown up without the mountain.”

  “I can’t imagine what it would be like to have grown up with the mountain.”

  The spirits were closer now and took up half of the sky. They started to slow in their shifting and for a while all stayed the same color.

  “There’s something worrying me,” Gallif said as she forced herself to turn away from the colors and face Kavelle. “Something I can’t figure out.”

  Kavelle’s eyes darted around to make sure that no one else was close enough to hear them and nodded for her to continue.

  “When I got to Primor and was checking things out I was told that Bitran had left on a hunting expedition ten days before I arrived.”

  “Yes, but they said he was going to check on the spices.”

  “I know, that’s not it,” she said as she waved a hand for her to wait. “When we were in the jail and you were all getting the family out I checked that fourth set of cells for occupants. There was a dead body in one and it was Bitran. I recognized him from the painting in the house.”

  “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “We were in such a hurry and I wasn’t sure how long the jump casting would stay open.”

  “I see.”

  “Ellis had seen the body as well and she confirmed that it was her father.”

  “I don’t understand what the problem is, Gallif.”

  “He’d left Primor ten days before I got there, but Brox says it’ll take longer than that to get to the caves.”

  “Maybe they were taken captive and brought back without anyone knowing it? Maybe there are more than one set of caves.”

  “Then why wouldn’t we be going for the closer ones? Where’s his guide and the rest of the party then?” Gallif paused for Kavelle to understand what she was thinking. “It just doesn’t make any sense and I don’t want to assume anything,” Gallif brushed her red hair back.

  “Okay,” Kavelle nodded. “I agree that something doesn’t make sense. Bitran left ten days before and- “

  ”Bitran,” Gallif interrupted, “or someone that looks like Bitran.” She paused and waited for her words to sink in.

  When they did Kavelle moved uncomfortably and asked, “Shifters? Shape changers?”

  “Yes,” Gallif nodded.

  “It’s been a hundred years since shape changers were discovered in these lands.”

  “There’s something else,” Gallif said quickly to convince her. “Zaslow said he had met us before. I remember when I met him,” she said, but stopped short of telling her about the pendant she had been given. “He said he had been in the temple with you.”

  Kavelle put a hand to her forehead and took a few steps further away from the fire. Gallif turned to watch her, but didn’t interrupt. After several minutes Kavelle, facing the ground, turned back in Gallif’s direction.

  “I remember a man who came into the temple asking for holy water,” she spoke quietly as if she were reliving the moment. “He asked that we drink together from his wineskin,” she said as her voice trailed off. “I think I drank first.”

  “Did he drink?”

  “I don’t know,” she shook her head. “He was asking questions. I don’t know what about.”

  “A different person from the one that I saw, or we fought in the field, or the other people saw.”

  “Or someone who looked different,” Kavelle said.

  Gallif took a deep breath before she asked her next question. She knew she had to tread carefully as she did not want to reveal the guilt she held deep inside. “Did he give you something?”

  “Give me?”

  “Yes,” Gallif nodded. “A necklace or bracelet with a gold pendant and a red stone? Like the one we found on Tasker.”

  “No,” she said after searching the whispers of her memory. “He didn’t. I went through everything I had and was going to bring with me. I didn’t have one.”

  “Okay, at least we have that on our side.”

  As they stood they both realized that the front wave of the sky spirits hung directly over them. The rest of their party from the camp had wandered away from the fire to see the beautiful display as well.

  Gallif searched for the color that reminded her of Rayjen. Amongst the sky of deep blues and reds she finally saw a strand of bright green far to the east. It was merely a small thread, but she followed it as it headed across the sky directly over her. It continued westward until it was almost at the horizon and then slowed to a crawl. Very quickly the other colors in the sky lightened to become dazzlingly bright shades of blue, red and orange. The entire landscape was lighted to a false dawn and the land hundreds of yards in either direction was clearly visible. Directly west of them, coming around a small collection of trees that, from her position, seemed to be directly below the Rayjen light, were several very large and very hungry looking bears.

  “Thank you, Rayjen,” Gallif said as she froze. “No one move.”

  “What are you talking about?” Brox asked from several feet in front of her. He looked in the direction she was facing and saw the bears lumbering towards them. He drew his bow and reached back to withdraw an arrow from his quiver when Gallif’s hand stopped him. “How dare you?” he growled. “We can’t outrun them.”

  “Sometimes you don’t have to run.” Brox tried to pull the arrow away from her, but she was too strong, and her position was to her advantage. His assistant came forward to help, but Kavelle stood in his way and held him back. He looked at her angrily and she simply said, “I’ll explain later.”

  Jakobus had taken a few steps to put himself on the other side of Brox. “He will not take aim, Gallif,” Jakobus said. “But those bears are getting closer.”

  Gallif walked past them and took a few very slow and measured steps towards the bears. She kept her hands away from her flame sword and finally stood with her arms spread wide.

  The bears stopped and studied her with great curiosity. One of the younger bears, only a year or two in age, but still over three hundred pounds, started to approach her, but the mother bear growled, and it quickly retreated.

  Gallif knelt down on one knee, but kept her eyes looking straight at the mother.

  The mother growled slightly, warned her, and patted the ground with her claws.

  Gallif put both hands to her face, licked both her palms, and then held them out before her.

  The mother bear slowly came forward and took a very careful sniff of Gallif’s hands. The bear looked up and down at Gallif and then sniffed her hands again.

  Gallif’s eyes went to the ground.

  The mother bear moved incredibly close to her and sniffed her from head to toe. Then she went and gave a quick lick of Gallif’s face.

  Gallif looked up, the bear’s face just inches away from her, then smiled and nodded. She slowly tilted her he
ad in the direction of the rest of the group who were all shaking with tension and sweating despite the cold. Then Gallif looked back down at the ground.

  The mother bear stood on its hind legs and for a brief second appeared as if it were going to attack. Instead, it gently put a paw on Gallif’s right shoulder, then her left, and gave out a howl that would have been heard for miles.

  Gallif stood, face to face with the bear, and then nodded slowly.

  The bear dropped back onto all four paws, turned and walked away. After the bear family had reached the trees Gallif turned to the rest of the party and said, “We’ll be safe for the night.”

  Jakobus smiled and gave her a blessing as did Brox’s assistant even though he did it without saying a word.

  Kavelle wiped sweat from her forehead and headed back to the campfire.

  Brox’s arm relaxed and the bow was returned to his side. He looked at Gallif and nodded and she knew she would be treated more respectfully by him from now on.

  TWENTY-FOUR:

  RED ICE

  As Brox had explained the first four days on the ice fields were easy rides. The clear skies, with only a slight breeze, made the temperatures tolerable. The fields themselves were fairly even with a few gentle slopes so they managed to cross a great deal of area every day. Gallif, with Brox’s approval, had very carefully wrapped the horses’ legs with cotton cloths. They were bound loosely around the legs so as not to hurt the horse’s circulation. A few of the younger horses briefly protested the wraps but after a few snorts and stares from Snow they settled down.

  The supplies that they carried held out quite well and Jakobus’s uncanny ability to build a fire kept them warm. At nights the sky spirits were so bright and reflected off of the ice so strongly there were times it was almost as if they were completely surrounded by colors.

  Brox’s superior attitude was getting tested as they traveled. To maintain his inflated image he would often make proclamations about various subjects and ideas. It was obvious that he was not often debated by the people around him, but, this time, he was not so lucky. Jakobus was always more than willing to counter many of the statements the hobgoblin made. His assistant kept a blank face but Gallif and Kavelle occasionally smiled at each other when Jakobus proved the other’s theory to be wrong.