The Shadows of Starpoint Mountain

  THE SHADOWS OF STARPOINT MOUNTAIN

  By Bill Albert

  Second in the Starpoint Series

  For more info go to

  www.starpointmountain.com

  For Mom and Dad above all

  Special thanks to:

  Molly and Beverly for corrections,

  Audrey for letting me rattle on about writing

  Jesse for the covers

  Mandy for her voice

  Douglas Adams

  Robert Heinlein

  The cast and crew of Guiding Light

  Copyright 2008 by Bill Albert

  ISBN 978-1-4357-0486-2

  Second Edition

  Old Armory Entertainment

  12-08-07 to 10-27-09

  PROLOGUE: VOICES OF THE DEAD 1

  BOOK ONE:

  BEFORE THE FALL

  ONE: CURTAINS 4

  TWO: THE SLOW DAWN 16

  THREE: EVIL IN MANY FORMS 27

  FOUR: LUVIN THE DRAGON RIDER 35

  FIVE: STEALING SECRETS 46

  SIX: THE PUPPET MAKER 51

  SEVEN: DISTANCE 61

  EIGHT: BLINKS OF AN EYE 70

  NINE: THE OUTPOST 77

  TEN: CRACKS 83

  BOOK TWO:

  GRAVE WALKING

  ELEVEN: GRAY SUN RISING 88

  TWELVE: TREMBLING 97

  THIRTEEN: CLACKING BONES106

  FOURTEEN:INSIDE THE STREAM124

  FIFTEEN:RUMBLINGS 127

  SIXTEEN: ILLUSIONS LOAST 135

  SEVENTEEN: LINCILARA 144

  EIGHTEEN: THE DARKEST STREAM 161

  NINETEEN: MASKS 169

  TWENTY: FAMILIAR MONSTERS 182

  TWENTY-ONE: TRADES 189

  TWENTY-TWO: WEAPONS OF CHOICE 206

  BOOK THREE:

  LAWBREAKERS

  TWENTY-THREE: CRIMINALS 229

  TWENTY-FOUR: TRAITORS 246

  TWENTY-FIVE: FUGITIVE KIND 266

  TWENTY-SIX: A KINGDOM FALLING 294

  A DIFFERENT TIME...

  A DIFFERENT PLACE...

  WITH A CASTING ALL ITS OWN…

  PROLOGUE: VOICES OF THE DEAD

  The prisoner lay unmoving with his thin body shackled against the cold stone platform. With his feet held at an angle above his head the rush of blood to his brain kept him continuously dizzy. He rarely opened his eyes though he almost never slept. When he did open them the few torches in the chamber started swimming in circles. The disorientation would leave him physically sick even though, after so long without food, there was nothing left in his stomach.

  With every bone and joint in his body aching he desperately tried to hold on to his sanity with prayer. He prayed to every god he had ever known to take pity and free him from his bonds. It didn’t matter how they did it anymore. He knew even death would be freedom.

  Slowly he licked his lips and was surprised at how much moisture he found. It tasted good and he collected as much as he could. Once he had enough, he braced himself for the pain and swallowed. His muscles tightened and he fought the urge to scream. Finally, after what seemed a lifetime, the pain subsided, and his body relaxed. He repeated the process several times and was relieved to feel the pain lessen.

  He wondered if all the moisture meant it was raining outside. He listened intensely holding his breath for silence and was certain he could hear the sizzle of rain hitting stone in the distance. He took a deep slow breath and sensed the very faint scent of rain.

  He felt tired, as always, but did not want to sleep yet. The pitiful sleep he occasionally didn’t help. He had learned the longer he forced himself to stay awake the deeper he would sleep later. Concentrating on simple things like that was one of the ways he managed to keep control.

  Another was singing.

  Though he couldn’t form words anymore he opened his mouth to sing. Even with a crackled voice he could still manage to create several tones and by changing their pitch and depth he could produce the resemblance of his favorite hymn.

  Gentle are the voices of the dead

  Whether lives end swift or slow

  Souls either happy or sad

  Must not be forgotten in the morrow

  Remember the moments of heart and grace

  Remember the truth behind the face

  Forgive them their lust

  Forgive them for their wrongs

  Shade or hide from them we do not

  And pray our sins they shall forgive

  Those who’ve gone either friend or foe

  Begin again as virgin snow

  With them lies our sacred past

  And in their sights our future is

  Listen to their memory flow

  Hope and dreams and all they know

  Believe the truth of all things said

  Gentle are the voices of the dead

  He stopped singing when he heard footsteps approaching. He could tell by the slow and heavy treads that it was the giant. He expected, even hoped, that he would not survive this session.

  He jumped in shock as a cup of cool water was suddenly dumped on his face. He opened wide and swallowed as much of the liquid as he could. As usual this was followed by the strong smell of fruit, a nearby melon, but it was quickly removed.

  “Now,” the menacing voice of the master started slowly. “Tell me what you know before I cut off your pointed ears.”

  BOOK ONE:

  BEFORE THE FALL

  ONE: CURTAINS

  King Paleth completely ignored the first scream. He knew it was Queen Gweneve and coughed and grumbled and rolled over in his bed. He coughed a second time, grumbled some more, and then rolled over again in the same direction.

  It was difficult for most outsiders to comprehend just how big the bed of a giant couple really was. It was big enough that it took fourteen servants working simultaneously just to straighten out the blankets and make the bed each day. One could only guess how many fields of cotton had been used and washing required either a large lake or a very good rainstorm. Paleth never really worried about how it was done as long as the sheets felt good. He also enjoyed the fact that he could roll over as many times as he wanted to without worry. Queen Gweneve hadn’t slept in the same bed with him for more than a year. No one outside the royal court, and very few inside, knew that fact.

  The happiness of the royal couple was treasured throughout the Land of Starpoint. They symbolized everything that was good and happy about the land and were constantly being seen by the inhabitants together. Their love was celebrated everywhere, and many envied the couple and worked hard to live by their shining example. The Circle of Ministers knew how important that image was and worked hard to maintain the illusion, whether the couple wanted to or not. Luckily, the only thing stronger than their dislike of each other was their joy of being pampered by an entire population and wielding power. They thrilled to it so much they never realized what little power they actually had.

  There was a second scream from Gweneve and Paleth slowly opened his eyes and giggled. He guessed that his court jester must have left another paper snake in her room and she’d found it with a shock. He would have to pretend to punish the jester for a cruel joke but would secretly reward him for his mischief.

  The fact that they had no children was not a problem. There was no Royal Family, a king and a queen was chosen by the Circle of Ministers, so it wasn’t necessary to keep the line going. To maintain the public image, they had ordered Gweneve to stay as active as possible to give the impression that she was just too young and too busy to have a child.

  He would have ignored the third scream had it not been accompanied by a short trembling of the room. Still half asleep he opened his eyes and looked at th
e ceiling. There was plenty of light in the room and he was relieved to see that neither the ceiling nor the walls had been cracked. Quizzically he looked again and reconsidered the fact that there was so much light. This time of year, and this early in the day, the light from the sun should have been deflected by Starpoint Mountain and this room in its shadow. He yawned and wondered why they had allowed him to sleep this late as he climbed from the bed, wrapped his purple robe around him, and stepped out on to the balcony.

  He snapped wide awake as he looked at how the world was changing. Before him a dark cloud was eating the landscape. It was moving rapidly and even the mightiest trees were disappearing under the carpet of dust. He couldn’t help but think how much it looked like a spider had attacked them. The northern and southern horizons were still intact but anything to the east was now out of sight. Of the mighty mountain only splinters remained above the darkness. What had once been a solid behemoth was now broken up into two twin towers of torn rock. Each tower, stabbing into the sky, was still a formidable height but small compared to the sight he had seen every day of his life. As a second, lighter, shock wave hit the capital city he held on to the balcony and hoped that the twin towers would not fall. They held, for now, and his eyes fell back to the expanding cloud of darkness blanketing the land.

  After Queen Gweneve screamed again he was finally pulled away from the sight. She was on the same balcony and he slowly walked to her and patted her on the shoulder. Tears were streaming down her face and as she looked at him, he saw, for a brief second, the woman he had fallen in love with so many years ago.

  “How...” was all she could say before her voice trailed off.

  “I don’t know,” he said. Now that he was thinking normally again the anger started to rise inside him.

  “How could you let this happen?” she asked staring at him.

  “What?”

  “Damn you,” she said and turned away.

  Before he could follow her, he heard the doors in his bedroom fly open and the sounds of frantic footsteps coming towards him. Captain Arcada, head of the hobgoblin security force, burst from the bedroom and was visibly relieved when he saw Paleth standing there. There were three hobgoblin soldiers behind him armed with swords.

  “My king,” Arcada said as he came forward. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, I am fine,” he said. He was relieved that the captain was with him. The hobgoblins were the official Defenders of the Crown and were fiercely loyal to their jobs.

  “How is Queen Gweneve?”

  “Quite distraught,” he said nodding to her private room.

  “Yes, my king, I am relieved that you are both safe.”

  Arcada turned as a fourth soldier came to him and whispered in his ear. He nodded, whispered back, and the other ran in to the building.

  “The First Minister is calling the circle together as soon as possible.”

  “Of course,” Paleth said with some relief. “Where are my personal assistants?”

  “They are in their rooms. We felt it was best to keep them there until we knew you were safe.”

  “Very wise,” Paleth said as he started back to his room. “Release them and have them get me ready for an appearance. I want the brown and green robes, the calmer ones, for today.”

  Arcada held his thoughts and reluctantly nodded. He left the room quickly with his three soldiers in tow.

  Paleth was about to enter his bedroom when he turned again to face where the mighty mountain had once stood. The twin towers that remained seemed to be holding steady and he wondered if they, or anything else, would fall soon.

  ***

  The Council of Ministers met in the tallest tower in the city of Spring Field, the capital of the Land of Starpoint. Seven of the eight walls surrounding the room displayed incredibly detailed murals depicting the history of their land.

  The first wall, facing southeast, depicted the dragons that used to live and rule the Land of Starpoint. It portrayed the red and blue dragons flying and working together over the flat land. Despite the light colors of the dragons and the apparent happiness and cooperation between them there was a darker background to the mural that gave the impression that there was some unknown trouble underneath.

  The second wall, facing directly south, was of the Dragon War that followed that era of peace. Dragons were in combat in the skies around the mountain and dragon bodies littered the ground. It was a gruesome and bloody scene.

  The southwest wall held a mural of the chaos that followed afterwards. There were different groups of humans, hobgoblins and dwarves all defending themselves from the wicked aquilus elves. This was another horrible scene with depictions of children being taken from families by elven warriors while the families wept and prayed for help. This was the most disturbing mural as the observer always felt there was something else in the depiction that couldn’t quite be seen.

  The next four walls were all much brighter affairs. The darkness on the earlier murals was replaced with bright images of different races celebrating as the Giant Lords appeared around Starpoint Mountain. Humans, hobgoblins, dwarves even the small fairies rejoiced as the Giant Lords began their benevolent rule. As the artwork continued the Giant Lords protected and defended the people of Starpoint. They defeated the Goblin Blood Lords that had tried to invade the land and they were always protecting their followers from the wicked aquilus elves while the others lived in peace and harmony. Despite the happiness that the walls predicted there were still the occasional darker images hidden amongst the colors. Though the Giant Lords called it a simple trick of light many observers were given the impression that there was something else there.

  The eighth wall, facing east, was the only one open to the outside and had, until just this day, looked directly at Starpoint Mountain.

  The only entrance to this room was from a curved stairwell that came up through the floor. Other than the eight chairs set in a crescent it contained no other furnishings.

  In the center chair, the biggest and grandest, sat the First Minister. The oldest of them all his skin was pale and tight to his body giving an almost skeletal look. His face was hairless, but he carried a healthy lock of curly white hair on his head that dropped to his shoulders. He wore colorless robes and held his boney white hands together in his lap.

  There was the sound of a door opening and closing followed by heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. By the speed and relative lightness, the First Minister knew that the Fifth Minister had arrived.

  The Fifth Minister, the youngest and most recently appointed of the eight, came to a complete stop before he got to the top step. He put a hand up to cover his eyes from the uncomfortable glare of the sun then took a deep breath and finally climbed up into the room. To stop the glare from blinding him he took a few steps to the side and shook his head as he saw the truth. The mountain was gone. He turned and nodded at the First Minister, who nodded back, before taking his seat.

  “I thought this day would never come,” the Fifth Minister said as he brushed back his lengthy blond hair. “How is something like this possible?” He glanced at the First Minister hoping for an answer or acknowledgment of some kind but got none.

  The Eighth Minister lumbered his way up the steps and went directly to his chair as he gasped for breath. He was quite unhealthy for his age and was the least active of them all. He let his breathing calm before looking out the open wall but did not say a word.

  They all sat silently and in a few minutes the sun rose high enough that there was no glare to blind observers in the room. The Fifth Minister shifted uncomfortably as he got a view of the dark cloud of dust and dirt that was consuming the land. He forced himself to take his mind off of the tragedy before him and concentrate on what needed to be done. There would be thousands, if not more, wounded or killed from the fall. He knew he must take control of the rescue. He felt, as a Minister, his duty was to help and heal. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the big door at the bottom of the stairs slamming s
hut. He then heard a pair of giant footsteps pounding up the stairs and knew by the arguing who had entered.

  “I think you’re jumping to conclusions,” the Sixth Minister said as he reached the top of the stairs.

  “It’s the only possible explanation,” the Third Minister said as he reached the top of the stairs as well.

  “No, it’s the only explanation you want. How?” the Sixth Minister dared him. “How could they have managed something that massive? They are each small and insignificant.”

  “Tell that to the people of Primor when they see a snowflake,” the Third Minister said.

  “A very old and unoriginal analogy,” the Sixth Minister shook his head. “In some ways it’s like you,” he said scornfully. “And don’t try and claim casting either. Aquilus are unable to cast anything. Even simple spells are beyond them.”

  “There are weapons other than casting,” the Third Minister smiled as he knew he’d surprised the other.

  “So,” the Sixth Minister scratched his dark beard as he rethought his argument. “So, you’re saying they did it some other way?” he giggled as he regained his confidence. “Are you suggesting they dug it out from within?”

  “Even your own estimates were that there could be almost half a million aquilus hidden in our land. They could have been working in there for years, decades, or even centuries!”

  “Aquilus inside Starpoint Mountain? No one in a million years would believe that.”

  “Well,” the Third Minister started as he realized that argument would be difficult to support. “They didn’t have to be inside the mountain. The dark swamps would provide them with cover, or the Terra Firla forest, or even the northern ice fields.”

  “Ok,” the Sixth Minster laughed without mirth as he moved to end the debate. “You’re saying the aquilus created some weapon of massive destruction in the dark swamps and used it to bring down Starpoint Mountain.”