The Fires of Starpoint Mountain

by Bill Albert

  “But we need you to stay here,” Blinks said. “With your powers you can help the search and watch our backs for whatever might be here.”

  “Gallif is going to die,” she said with tears in her eyes. “I can feel it. I know it. I can save her.”

  Blinks stared up at the fairy for full minute over the long centuries since their disappearance various myths and legends about the fairies had grown. Some people believed in their immense powers to connect with other souls. That they had the ability to read others’ thoughts once they bonded and sense others’ emotions. He had no doubt she believed what she had said. He also feared she was correct.

  “Go, Lincilara,” Blinks finally said. “Go save Gallif.”

  “Rescue her, like she rescued you,” Angelia added.

  Lincilara, tears flowing from her eyes, fluttered close to Blinks, cup to tear drop in her hands, released it on his face, then kissed him up on the nose. She repeated the process to Angelia who also had tears in her own eyes. Lincilara hovered in the air ahead of them, waved goodbye, then flew off so fast her glow left a trail behind her.

  Angelia step forward and gently put a hand on Blinks his shoulder. “I think you should go, too.”

  “What? Me? Why? No?” He asked quickly. “I’m not going to leave you.”

  “Whatever’s going on out there, whatever Gallif has put in motion, it’s very important that she has someone she trusts near her.”

  “If we take turns driving the wagon, we could make it there really quickly.”

  “No. If I go, I’ll just slow you down and we don’t have that much time,” she said strongly. “You, individually, alone on a horse could get there much faster. Besides,” she said waving her hands of the library. “This is the perfect place for me. There is no day or night here, just right now. I have no need to hide or sleep in here. You, I sense, have important work to do out there,” she said holding his hands in hers. “I have important work to do here. I am a healer and I can heal this library.”

  “You’ll never be able to leave,” he pointed out desperately.

  “So, I’ll be here for you when you get back,” she said kissing him lovingly on the lips.

  He held her close for a long time before finally, reluctantly, letting her go.

  He walked out of the library, paused before stepping into the courtyard where he knew she could not follow, and turned back.

  “Will you be okay being alone?” He asks her from the heart.

  “I won’t be alone” she said with genuine honesty. “I’m in a library full of books. There’s thousands of friends here and places to go” she laughed.

  He looked at her lovingly and slowly smiled. Then he turned and walked steadily across the courtyard, up the steps, and was gone.

  “That dear, sweet man,” she said knowing how much she would miss him.

  She walked into the main library looking around to decide where to start. Her eyes fell on the dry, lifeless tree that had writing on his sleeves. She walked forward praying she could find one small branch of words.

  ***

  “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that I was lost, but I do know better, so I won’t say that. If I did say that I would have some comfort in the fact that it wasn’t my fault,” Blinks said as his high swing decapitated another undead guard as it approached him.

  He had steadily marched through the tunnel without wavering for nearly an hour, our, it could’ve been an hour as he was never good at keeping track of time, until the first of the undead guards appeared. He had easily defeated the slow-moving attacker but had gotten disoriented in his directions. He started walking at an increased pace several minutes before realizing the tracks he was following were his own.

  He backtracked his own tracks to where they ended and encountered another guard. This one was very large and very strong. Despite its sluggish movements, it was quite a good fighter. Blinks managed to hold his own against it but soon two more joined in the fray and he was forced to retreat into a smaller path to keep ahead of them. He’d managed to kill two of them and, in the confined space, their limp bodies blocked the other from following him. He suddenly came into a broader cave area and, though there were no footprints, it looked familiar to them.

  Before he could check anything out in detail, he came across two more guards who had been feasting on the third. He tried to back away, but they sense fresh meat and came after him.

  He killed one and slid down a steep path before killing the other. He looked around and started to feel much calmer and more confident. He was positive he had been at this cave intersection before.

  The wide, hallway off in one direction came to a sudden stop with the wall that appeared to have been set here on purpose. There were a few holes torn out of the walls and the light emitting from the center gap.

  Though he knew where he was, they had traveled this route the first time they were here and knew he should hurry along he couldn’t fight the urge to take one more look at the sideways tornado on the other side. He was shocked to find that this time there was someone looking back.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: CULTURE SHOCK

  “I understand that look on your face,” Novelevon said to Jakobus. “They didn’t tell you I was an elf. You’re having trouble reconciling what you see before you with what you’ve believe to be true for so long,” he said and chuckled lightly.

  Jakobus had thought long and hard about what exactly Novelevon was. He had considered him possibly a druid, possibly a human, hopefully a dwarf or maybe one of the Others. It had never occurred to him that his goal could possibly be to contact an elf. Yet, he could deny what he was seeing. The strange figure before him, moving his house around the swamp, talking about cross breeding trees, was an elf.

  He did not show it but scolded himself for not considering this. He treasured the moment he had seen Lincilara for the first time. How beautiful it was to learn that what everyone had believed for a thousand years was wrong. He allowed himself a little pride and dignity that he did not have the immediate urge to attack.

  “I know the truth about the elves,” Jakobus said carefully.

  “You do, do you?” He chuckled. “What truth would that be?”

  “The curse from the Dragon to take away the ability to choose. It was easier for them to seduce you then.”

  “Ah, I see,” Novelevon said not trying to look surprised. “That’s very good. You seem to have already accepted that fact. Yet you are still having trouble when you come face-to-face with me.”

  “Things are changing so fast,” Jakobus said. “So much that we believed yesterday is false today.”

  “Plus, you are taken out of your world and thrust into mine. It’s understandable,” the elf said. He was kind and understanding and there was no condescension in his voice. “I imagine if I were forced into yours, I would be the same. Assuming, of course, I survived.”

  Jakobus fought the urge to look away in shame. In an earlier time Jakobus himself would’ve struck at the elf immediately.

  “Those things in your face, the glass and the wire, what are they?” Jakobus asked.

  “My eyesight is not as good as it used to be, too much time working by candlelight. I found that you can grind in finished pieces of glass to a certain thickness that makes smaller objects look clear.”

  “Like the tube thing they used at Gunter’s prison to look at us when we went in.”

  “Yes, I’m glad they’re using that,” Novelevon said with a polite smile “a promise to make those for them in exchange for more glass. Neither of us have the strength to turn to forge anymore.”

  “Us?”

  “Yes, my friend, he’s very ill though, don’t expect to see him for a while. As for these,” he said pointing to the wired glass pieces on his face. “I’m afraid I don’t have a name for them yet. Someday I should think of one.”

  “What do you call them?” Jakobus asked.

  “Mine,” he said with a chuckle and shrugged.

  “We
need your help,” Jakobus said flatly to get the process started.

  “Ah, yes, the reason you came here,” Novelevon said sitting down at a dark colored wooden table and nodding for Jakobus to join him.

  Jakobus sat down opposite him. Despite everything he did not fully trust the aquilus yet but wanted to be able to look at him eye to eye.

  “The Giant Lords are unable to help you?”

  “It is in their best interest not to. Our fear of you is their most powerful weapon.”

  Novelevon’s face could not hide his shock at what Jakobus said.

  “One of my ancestors was half elf, due to a rape gang. He mated with another elf, who had three elven children. Who mated with other elves, who mated with others. We believe ourselves to be pure elves, free of the curse. Yet, I admit sometimes I fear I will become one of the puppets of hate,” he said.

  “There is no such curse in my ancestry,” Jakobus said slowly. “Yet sometimes I fear the same thing.”

  There was a moment that they looked at each other and a bond of trust united them.

  “Tell me then, Jakobus, how it is that you came to me?”

  Jakobus couldn’t help but chuckle a bit before he spoke.

  “It actually started with a curious young girl who graduated from a hidden school near Starpoint Mountain…”

  Novelevon marveled at the fantastic tale the Jakobus told him. At times, he gasped in surprise, at times he sighed in sadness, other times he laughed aloud and shook his head.

  “The girl, what are her plans when she becomes a prisoner of the Giant Lords?”

  “I don’t know,” he said automatically.

  “Do you trust her?”

  “I do. She was willing to fight to defend my parents, even if it was mistakenly against me, and she wept at their deaths. That is a most noble act, we doors believe.”

  “As the elves did, I believe, 1000 years ago.”

  “Will you help us?”

  “The book, the one which you read about the curse, you have it with you?”

  “No, I’m afraid the cast of the Dragon library prevented us from taking it.”

  “But you’ve seen it? The book, you’ve read it?” Novelevon asked in amazement.

  “Most of it,” Jakobus admitted. “I know the preparations before the curse but only some of the actions afterwards.”

  “But you’ve read it?” Novelevon said, his excitement rising. “That’s the important thing! You’ve read the curse?”

  “Yes, I have.”

  “That is the most important part. My friend has an ability to read memories, your thoughts. To him they are like a flowing river and he can enter the streams and see them. See what you saw and read,” Novelevon said bouncing up and down like an excited child. “He will be able to discern everything else that we need.”

  Jakobus had heard of these people, Gallif had told him of her encounters with one, and was not afraid but cautious.

  “I will speak with him tomorrow, when he rises, and we will begin preparations.”

  “You may go ahead and speak with me now, my friend,” a faint and crackling voice said slowly.

  They both turned quickly to see a human male standing nearby watching them. He seemed impossibly old; his body bent forward to lean on a crooked cane. Despite his pale-dry skin and distinct features of his black and white hair and bushy eyebrows, his eyes were sharp and young.

  Novelevon looked at his friend and smiled.

  Jakobus rose, pulled his cast acts from his belt, and started running towards Zaslow.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: OTHER FACES

  “STOP!” Novelevon yelled chasing after Jakobus.

  Jakobus ran at Zaslow and drew back to strike the man. Zaslow slowly, patiently, lifted the tip of his cane up and pointed it at the angry dwarf as he mumbled something. Jakobus’s entire body snapped as if he had just run into a solid wall. He grunted in pain and shock and went sprawling to the floor in a heap losing his grip on the acts. He shook his head and reach for the weapon only to find he was blocked. Novelevon was now standing with his feet firmly planted on the axe handle glaring down at him angrily.

  “Let me go!” Jakobus yelled. “It’s the wicked man I warned you about.”

  “No, it’s not the one you fought,” Novelevon pleaded with him.

  “I’ve seen that face before! I know what he’s capable of.”

  “Let him go, my friend,” Zaslow urged him

  Novelevon looked at the elder man and then stepped off the ax handle.

  Jakobus grasped it tightly, rush to his feet and then swung the weapon back. His rage abated as he got a good look at Zaslow and this time held his attack in place. He noticed the differences. His face was recognizable but not as distinct, somehow softer, then before. There was much more grain his hair and eyebrows by a considerable margin. His body was not as young and as strong as the others had been. His skin was white and paper like and his fingers were spotted and wrinkled.

  “You are Zaslow,” Jakobus said.

  “Yes, I both am and was Zaslow. Now I am just a part of him.”

  “Still that wicked man,” Jakobus snarled at him and held his weapon up again to strike.

  “No,” Novelevon ordered with a voice so strong and clear Jakobus sought for brief second a giant was behind him. “Listen to him Jakobus, or I swear I will banish you into the darkest corners of the swamp.”

  Jakobus showed no fear but relaxes muscles and let his arm drop but did not release his grip on the ax.

  Zaslow slowly moved to a chair and, with no pain, sat down.

  “You recognize my face,” Zaslow said. “You’ve encountered one of me before, yet you have never met me.”

  “Don’t talk in riddles,” Jakobus warned him.

  “There was an assassin named Bruno that worked exclusively for me. He showed me a cast that he had frightened out of the victim trying to bargain for his life. He made the deal and killed them anyway. He learned an incredible cast. A jump cast like any other but unique in that while you stepped in at one place you stepped out in for others. You are exactly like you were before but there were now more of you. Two if you liked. More if you wanted. For an assassin, it was an incredible advantage.”

  Jakobus remembered how he had been amazed at the speed that the assassin had traveled. He had always believed that the assassin knew all the back ways and secret paths in the city and could use them to appear to strike two locations at the same time. He had not considered it was a cast that had allowed him to move so quickly.

  “A cast like that. He could take over the world,” Jakobus commented.

  “How incredible that was, tantalizing and ingenious. So, after considering hard on destinations I made the cast and stepped through. Next thing I knew I was here in the swamp is planned. It was exhilarating. I ran and jumped and yelled at the top of my lungs,” he said without joy or enthusiasm. “I could feel them. I could feel the others. I knew where they were and what they were doing, and I sense that they could feel me. Understand me. We were all aware of what the other version of me was doing. I was so caught up in it I didn’t realize and too late I have made a grave mistake. You can only return while the jump cast is still open. Once it extinguished itself there was no going back. I was trapped here in the swamp. Hopelessly lost I started heading west but found nothing. A month later I was starving, wounded, crawling along the swamp floor. At times, I woke up to find animals feasting on my scars at night.

  “Then, this arrived,” he said glancing around the mysterious house. “Novelevon took me in, healed me, and I have been here ever since. The Zaslows you have seen were just as me one day. Now they are strangers.”

  “But you were still like them. You still did the things they did,” Jakobus said not completely sold on the story.

  “I was like them,” he did not deny it. “But things changed.”

  “You couldn’t communicate with the others. Yet you felt something from them?”

  “Yes. I felt them died. It turn
s out every time one dies the others feel it. I lose a big piece of me when the others die,” he said looking at the age skin on his trembling hands.

  Despite his distrust of the man Jakobus didn’t doubt the pain in desperation he heard in this Zaslow’s voice. However, it was not strong enough for him to let go of his weapon.

  “I’m not saying that I trust you,” Jakobus said slowly. “I’m just willing to say that is possible.”

  “Like not all elves being evil,” Novelevon said scratching appointed ear.

  “Nor will they ever all be good,” Jakobus looked back at him. “No definitive blacks are whites, just different shades of gray.”

  “Of course,” Novelevon nodded. “Come with me. We will break bread and talk over some dinner. We can take a step towards removing the curse you spoke of.”

  ***

  Novelevon led them into a lavish dining room with a beautifully crafted redwood triangular shaped table in the center. There were three plush chairs made from the same would with silk covered cushions embedded on them. There was a golden chandelier with 100 candles burning different colors of light. The walls each held to colorful paintings of gleeful scenes, each in intrinsically crafted frames. The entire room was made to be bright and cheerful and was a complete contrast to the darkness of the swamp outside.

  After they sat a kisertet, a small, playful ghost appeared at the piano and started to play a cheerful upbeat song. Other kisertets came out of the kitchen and serve them an incredibly elegant meal. Jakobus enjoyed the dinner, but, as he had learned from Blinks when they first entered the swamps. Decided not to ask exactly what the tasty yet unfamiliar meat was. Despite all the peaceful elegance he felt in the room he was always aware of where his cast axe was.

  They spoke politely during most of the meal. Novelevon and Zaslow were curious about how the politics of the Giant Lords had changed since Starpoint Mountain had fallen. They found it interesting but were swayed neither positive nor negative in their opinions. There was an overwhelming sense of curiosity that Jakobus found in lightning.