The Secrets of Starpoint Mountain

by Bill Albert

  This time the images stayed and tormented her until, in confusion and panic, she lost consciousness.

  Even in her dreams the images haunted her. Tome accused her of causing his death again and again. Then the people in the barn. Finally, as she tried to fight the nightmares, Anamita was blaming her as well.

  She had no idea how long she had been lying on the table when she awoke. Minutes? Hours? Days? There was no meaning to time for now. She knew she was in the same place. Her throat was dry, and she forced herself to swallow. She was weak and couldn’t move, whispers from what she had seen were returning to her, and she just lay silent.

  She was so intent on listening she knew exactly when someone else entered the room. She had not heard the door open but could pick up the sound of someone breathing. She detected by the distance and direction of the sound that whoever it was stood five feet away to her right. Then she heard the source move but only by the change in direction of the breathing. There were no footsteps or other sounds.

  “I take it you are Spire,” Gallif said and opened her eyes.

  He had been standing a few feet away and only a slight twitch revealed that he had been surprised that she was awake.

  “Yes, that is the name I have been given,” he said as he came back to her.

  “Who did you have to sacrifice to get it?” she said looking at him with pure hatred.

  “Ahh, Idin didn’t tell you she originally had someone with her.”

  Gallif lay back disgustedly and glanced up at the ceiling. She hadn’t looked up before and was shocked to find that it was a mirror as well. She had a horrible second of seeing her naked, helpless self-strapped onto the table and snapped her eyes closed as some of her confidence faded away.

  “You will be surprised at how many people are weakened by that image of themselves. Even the mindless aquilus are afraid to come in here.”

  “If you can manage it, I can,” she said.

  “Look again,” he teased her.

  She slowly opened her eyes and looked in his direction. She could see him there looking back at her, but as her eyes drifted to the reflection on the walls, she could see only the room and herself. Her eyes narrowed as she looked back at him.

  “No,” he shook his head as he anticipated her question. “I’m not one of those,” he assured her.

  She slowly closed her eyes again and willed herself to disbelieve. This man could not be here. This man would have to be seen on the walls. She opened her eyes again to see that he was still standing there, and she could tell that he was not sure what she had done.

  He came forward and put a hand on her throat. He stroked it but put only a small amount of pressure on it. Then he moved and lightly ran his fingers from her toes, up her legs, along her thighs and onto her stomach. All the time watching the minute changes in her face as he touched certain areas.

  “You are very strong willed. I told Zaslow you would be difficult to break, but he wants you to serve him.”

  “Go to hell,” she said looking him directly in the face.

  “Many would freely give of themselves to be first maiden to a god.”

  “A false god,” she spat at him as her anger rose. “I saw what you were doing up there. Simple tricks of color and light that showmen use at festivals. The simple-minded elves believe they are spirits, of course.”

  “Of course,” he smiled. “But it is very effective and keeps them believing in him. It buys time and keeps them in place.”

  This idea caused her to stumble and she looked at him with confusion.

  “Unlike the spices you missed the other puzzle. Or just haven’t gotten an obvious piece yet,” he said as his hand firmly cupped one of her breasts.

  Gallif threw her head back and looked up at the reflection on the ceiling. She did not close her eyes this time but looked only at her own face and dirty red hair as tears started to form. Then, in her mind, the image changed. She saw herself as she had been when she looked in the water after Tome’s death and that question came back to her thoughts.

  She raised her head and looked him straight in the face and said, “I will kill you for that.”

  Spire paused as he watched her and despite his attempts to cover it was shaken by her. It was not what she had said, he had been threatened many times, but there was tone in her voice that he had never heard before. He stepped back and took his hands away.

  “I will break you to serve Zaslow,” he said with coldness in his voice. “Or you will relive this a thousand times,” he stared at her and waved his hand.

  For one brief moment Gallif’s worst nightmare engulfed her. She was still in the room, still naked, still helpless, but at least a dozen aquilus were tasting her. They licked and played with her from head to toe. Spire even covered his ears to protect himself from Gallif’s scream.

  He marched out of the room and as the door was slammed behind him the room became black. It was a complete blackness broken only by the sound of Gallif’s weeping.

  ***

  She barely stirred as she heard shaking and rattling as someone was opening the door. She turned her head away hoping Spire would think she was still unconscious when he entered. She could hear the door open and out of the corner of her eye saw the flickering glow of orange from a natural torch as someone entered the room. There was a pause and a hand gently rubbed her shoulder.

  “Gallif?” a familiar voice said.

  She looked over slowly and was relieved to see Pate standing near her. Before she could speak, he put a hand to her lips to quiet her. He reached under the table and pulled a thin woolen blanket up and wrapped it around her body. He unstrapped her and carefully picked her up in his arms and started walking quickly down the hall. He passed several open doors and quite a few closed ones as well and made several turns before he entered another dark room. He gently laid her down and she rested on some fully packed sacks. She took a deep breath and realized the sacks were full of corn and guessed that they would be in some storage room.

  “Where are the others?” she asked him.

  “I don’t know. We were separated during the battle and I haven’t seen anyone from our group. Do you know where Anamita is?”

  “We were together,” she said glad that in the dark he could not see the look on her face. “But they came up from behind and attacked us. I couldn’t save her,” she said. She felt guilty for only telling him a bit of what had happened and even more that she only partially believed it.

  Pate was quiet and just rocked back and forth on his feet a few times. “It appears that even inside the mountain they have some kind of day and night schedule. It was just at one point everything seemed to come to a stop, the halls emptied, and that was it. I saw the caster from the temple leaving and started working my way in. I didn’t know if I would find anyone,” he added without letting her see his face.

  “Did you find another prisoner?”

  “There was one but it was only a sleeping aquilus so I left it before it could attack.”

  “So now what do we do?”

  “We have to get moving as soon as we can,” he said and started swing the torch in arcs and walking around the room. He opened a few small cabinets and crates and returned to her with a hand full of clothes. “These will have to do,” he said as he handed them to her. “There is a battered and rusted long sword lying on the floor back there.”

  “I’ll take it.” She waited in silence and when Pate returned with the battered sword she finally asked, “How did you find me?”

  “Pure luck,” he admitted with a crooked smile. “I was in one of the caves and there was a small tremor. When I looked back part of the wall had opened into these halls. I just started looking and came across you by chance.”

  “Thank you,” she said. “You saved my life.”

  “We’re not out of this yet,” he replied with a crooked smile.

  They traveled uninterrupted for a few minutes and then, as Gallif’s senses and skill were coming back to her, she he
ard footsteps approaching from behind. They ducked away into a shadowed alcove and listened. Gallif recognized the voice of her tormentor shouting orders at the orcs that were following him.

  “Spread out,” he snapped at them. “If you come back without her I will make you burn forever,” he said, and all of the underlings took off running ahead of him.

  Spire stood there and watched them leave, then, assuming the area was clear, walked off into a side tunnel. They watched him as far as they could and, despite Pate’s protests, followed him.

  He only took one turn off the passage and was in a tunnel with three wooden doors buried along the left wall. He skipped the first one then opened the second door with a key and went inside.

  Gallif and Pate moved slowly along the walls. The first door had a small barred window in its center. Gallif looked inside and saw nothing in the bare stone walled room and they moved on.

  Gallif looked at Pate and mouthed the words ‘hold’ to him. He nodded and, knowing he would have to use his hands to cast he returned his sword to its sheath.

  Her strength was returning, and she took a firm grip on the rusty weapon as he opened the door and they went in.

  Both Gallif and Pate recognized the type of room they had entered. The left wall had been carved into a plain flat face while the right was still the natural rock surface. There were a few tables set towards the back and many shelves along the back wall. The shelves housed dozens of glass and clay jars filled with various types of potions, oils and powders with several weapons on rack along the wall. It was the kind of room casters would come to experiment.

  Spire was standing between the two tables carefully sifting bright orange powder from a clay jar into a glass one half filled with a white powder. He was so intent on what he was doing he didn’t hear them enter and it wasn’t until he saw the reflection of Gallif running towards him in the glass that he realized they were there. She swung the sword with as much might as she had. She was too slow with the weapon to catch him completely and as he stepped back out of range the metal shattered both jars and sent the contents flying.

  Pate held back and was starting to cast on Spire. Spire saw him but before Gallif could make a more accurate strike on him he produced a wand from his cloak and shouted something as he flicked it in Pate’s direction. There was a brief flash of light in Pate’s face. It wasn’t enough to damage him, but it did break his casting. Gallif stepped forward and swung again. This time the blow glanced off of Spire and hit more of the glass jars.

  Spire swapped his wand for a hammer and swung at Gallif’s legs before she could bring the sword back around. The hammer was smaller than average but still held a powerful punch and caught Gallif in the left leg. She stumbled back and Spire looked to see Pate preparing another cast. Spire roared back and flung the hammer expertly in Pate’s direction. The hammer struck him hard in the right shoulder and the cast was broken. He drew his sword and moved at Spire.

  As Spire was switching back to his wand Gallif had an open attack. She managed to hit his arm directly but did little damage. She looked at him and read by his expression he knew that without a cast armor underneath he most likely would have lost his arm. Spire made another casting, a short but powerful one that was aimed at neither Gallif nor Pate, but in the middle of the room. There was a shimmer in the air and then suddenly two men came into the room. They wore leather and carried long swords and immediately came after Gallif and Pate.

  The men, though a casting, were driven and strong and Gallif was quickly overpowered by her attacker. She swung the long sword as best she could but had to take a few steps back to keep away from the man.

  Pate was doing well with his opponent and he glanced at Spire and saw him preparing another casting.

  Gallif was losing. She had several cuts in her arms but had taken no serious blows from the more advanced fighter she was facing.

  Pate watching her as she backed away and wanted to help but he was trying to work his way toward Spire. He narrowly missed getting cut in the side but managed to move in further and score a successful strike on his opponent’s side.

  Gallif’s back was near the left wall. She was desperate to hold the man and finally pushed forward until she was only inches away from the man’s body. She hit him hard in the face with her elbow and while it stunned him, he did not go down. Instead he grabbed her by the back of her neck with one hand and threw her hard against the wall. She braced for impact, but instead she passed through out of sight.

  Spire caught the action and stumbled in his casting. He immediately started the complicated maneuver again.

  Pate saw her disappear but had no time to react. Now both of the men were upon him and he managed to score another successful hit against the first man. He took a few steps forward to interrupt Spire’s casting. He tried a quick swing at the second attacker but kept most of his attention on the first. He checked for the door and was considering withdrawing when a bright orange glow from the left wall caught everyone’s attention. Pate had never denied that she was attractive but had never considered her to be as beautiful as she was right now.

  Gallif had reentered the room still wearing the tattered clothes he had found for her, but, instead of a rusty and clumsy old long sword, she held a bright burning flame sword and was ready to fight. This wasn’t just a flame sword. This was the sword Rayjen had given to her and having it again had emotionally energized her. The return and the weapon were such a surprise that the attacker she had fought was off guard. He turned just as she approached him and tried to parry her blows, but she was strong, and she took him down quickly.

  Gallif turned to face Spire just as he finished his casting. She cursed as she suddenly found herself, not just facing one Spire, but three, then five, then seven until there was a circle of them around her, Pate, and the fighter he had conjured up. The fighter’s attention was shifted to the multiple images and was unprepared for Pate’s fatal attack.

  Gallif and Pate now stood next to each other being completely surrounded by multiple images of Spire. The caster smiled and danced from side to side to confuse them. As the original moved, so they all did, and it was getting more confusing by every step. He would move forward and appear to be within reach, but as they swung, their blades cut through the empty air.

  Gallif’s eyes were rapidly going from head to toe to try and determine which the real Spire was. Her efforts seemed fruitless as they were moving rapidly and the images were confusing.

  Then the key to telling them apart suddenly came to her. She looked up and down and watched them move and carefully maneuvered herself closer.

  As Pate was taking methodical swings at the images she finally stopped and turned to face one, the original. Spire looked back at her as she narrowed her eyes and just for a brief second he knew that he had been spotted. She pulled the flame sword back as far as she dared and swung in for the kill. He was standing sideways, and the sharp burning blade caught him in the chest. He looked at her in surprise as she repositioned herself and pushed the blade further. An odd confused look crossed his face as he dropped; this wasn’t the reward he had expected. The images quickly faded, and the room suddenly felt very empty.

  Gallif pulled the sword back and watched him to make sure he was dead. There was no movement and she even nudged her foot against the body to try and provoke a reaction.

  Pate looked at her and was about to ask how she had known who to hit when his eyes caught their patterns on the floor. Though they had looked like the real thing the images were just phantoms meant to confuse opponents. There was no substance to them at all. Only the real thing would cast shadows.

  “We’d better get you out of here before you cut your feet open on the broken glass,” Pate said after a long breath.

  “Wait,” she said quickly. “Stay here and see if any of these ingredients or potions will do you any good.” She turned and quickly ran though the wall and disappeared.

  Gallif found several piles of clothes and weapons in th
e room and she scattered them about as she went through them. Other than her own she found two cast weapons. She safely put one in the backpack and set the other aside to carry with her. She ruffled through a pile of black leather armor but found nothing outstanding.

  Pate had found some potions and powders that he felt they could use and was packing them carefully into his armor when Gallif returned. She had dressed rapidly, taking no time for details, and was again wearing the red tinted armor she had worn when they entered Starpoint Mountain. The twelve-inch blade was strapped to her thigh, both swords hung from her belt, and the pack was secure on her back. In her hand was a new long sword and sheath she had discovered. She handed it to her companion.

  Pate took the weapon and slowly pulled it from the sheath. Like her own it was a flame sword. He held it in his hand and waved it around to check the balance. Pleased, he looped the sheath to his belt and took a proper stance for the weapon.

  “Perhaps we should check the rest of the walls for other hidden compartments and see if we are lucky again,” he suggested with a smile and a nod.

  “That wasn’t luck,” she said and, before he could ask, “I’ll explain later.”

  With Pate’s guidance they quickly made their way back to the main tunnel. They agreed that Luvin and Jakobus would most likely go back to the original plan of finding the shaft that leads higher into the mountain.

  They traveled steadily for an hour. There was a slight incline in the floor, but they had no problems getting to the temple area. There were orc patrols walking the tunnel and some of the intersections, but they were so regular that after the first encounters they knew when to hide.

  “Which direction do you think we are headed?” Pate asked at one point in the journey.

  “Northward,” Gallif said after a brief pause. “Inwards toward the center of Starpoint Mountain.”

  “If the shaft that Luvin talked about is near the center, how far do you think we have to go?”

  “Another five or seven miles,” she said without looking back.