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 THE FIRES OF
STARPOINT MOUNTAIN
By Bill Albert

Fourth in the Starpoint Series

For more info go to

www.starpointmountain.com
 For Mom and Dad above all
Special thanks to:
Jesse for the cover
Mandy who gave her a voice
Megan, who knows what it’s like
…and the storytellers who taught
me.

Copyright 2020 by Bill Albert

ISBN 978-1-7948-0375-6
 First Edition

Old Armory Entertainment

 BOOK ONE: FUEL
CHAPTER ONE: EVEN NIGHT HAS A SHADOW 2

CHAPTER TWO: FAMILIAR TOUCH

13
CHAPTER THREE: AS GALLIF MARKED TIME
19
CHAPTER FOUR: THAT DAY 26
CHAPTER FIVE: SHADOW ATTACK
32
CHAPTER SIX: KNOW YOUR ENEMIES
36
CHAPTER SEVEN: SIGNS OF FLIGHT
42

BOOK TWO: AIR

CHAPTER EIGHT: TREMORS IN THE EMPIRE
53
CHAPTER NINE: RESURRECTIONS 61
CHAPTER TEN: PATH CROSS 66
CHAPTER ELEVEN: OPEN MASKS 72
CHAPTER TWELVE: KINGS AND PAWNS
80
CHAPTER THIRTEEN: WEB OF SPIDERS
88
CHAPTER FOURTEEN: DARKNESS FALLS EARLY 96
CHAPTER FIFTEEN: TO DUST
100
CHAPTER SIXTEEN: MR RAT
106
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: AS THOUSANDS WATCHED
112
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: THE ART OF BEING ME
119
CHAPTER NINETEEN: I TOOK HER TEARS 127
CHAPTER TWENTY: FAMILIAR GRAVES 131
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: SCREAMS IN THE LIBRARY 141
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: WOUND DAY 158
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: CULTURE SHOCK 161
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: OTHER FACES
164
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE: NOBLE SECRETS
168
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX: THE LAST OF US DIE
173

BOOK THREE: SPARKS

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN: THE EXECUTIONER’S DAY 185
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT: HARD LANDING
187
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE: YOUR ENEMIES CLOSER
193
CHAPTER THIRTY: THE POWER OF SEDUCTION
200
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE: BLOOD FRENZY
214
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO: THE LONG CLIMB 222
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE: AS SECRETS FALL
229
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR: HEAT 246
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE: SPARKS
251
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX: INFERNO
258
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN: ASHES
281
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT: SPOT FIRES 288
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE: GENTLE GRAVES
293

EPILOGUE:
STARPOINT SUNRISE 296
BOOK ONE:
AIR
 CHAPTER ONE: EVEN NIGHT HAS A SHADOW
Regional Giant Lord Judge Witchit sat back in the carriage and
smiled at how this day was going to be remembered. Generations
would speak about it and it, along with his no small part in the day,
would soon become a Land of Starpoint legend. It was a matter of
prefect timing that this glorious day should happen to be his last
official day on the job. He had wondered what this day would be
like, planned it for months, and had prayed to his god, Krui, for
guidance and support to make it memorable. After eighty-five years
in the judicial system he would be able to retire with grace and grow
strawberries.
The carriage took a sharp turn as it neared the city center of
Outbound and he let his mind search for the proper words. What
could he say on this momentous occasion? What phrase of insight
or brilliance would he be remembered for?
He reviewed his memories of what he had said the day that
Paleth had ascended to the throne. He wondered if there was
something, he’d said there that he could call back to. Though a
reminder of better times may someday be needed it was best to
leave it out now. Today it was anger and hatred in the air and he
didn’t want to ruin that splendid feeling.
When the carriage came to a stop at the steps of the stone
court building Judge Witchit’s entourage was quickly in place around
him. They told him the hobgoblin militia had informed them the
wagon was in Outbound city limits and would arrive soon. He
carefully adjusted his green and azure robes as he walked up the
steps to the platform. There were a hundred of the hobgoblin militia
lining the steps and countless citizens in the square who bowed
respectfully as he walked and applauded as he took his rightful place
with his attendants.
He waited patiently considering what he would say when a
glimmer in the crowd caught his attention. He smiled brightly
knowing that Acrufix, the legendary Elven Killer, was here.
 The crowed bowed as Acrufix walked through them. Though
they were obviously in awe of his presence he didn’t respond to
them in any way. He stopped at the bottom of the steps, crossed his
arms, and waited unmoving. Though no one could see through the
cast onto his face they knew he was looking in the direction the
criminal was coming from. They saw the same intensity and disgust
in him that they felt in themselves.
Of course, Witchit realized as he watched the famous, and
somewhat dirty, man standing on the path beneath him. He was
surprised that Acrufix was not wearing the shiny armor everyone
was used to seeing him in. but realized the dented, scared armor
showed signs of fighting monsters. All the better to appeal to the
crowd, Witchit thought.
That was it! Now he knew the right way to be remembered. He
would connect the criminal to the monsters. Of course, she would
make her plea of innocence and he would start from there. He would
tell the crowd how she was the worst thing they had ever seen, even
more evil than the elves. Like them she would never understand her
guilt and only, in her eyes, could she be innocent. That would be
brilliant, he chuckled, and he knew it would be one for the
historians.
There was some commotion on the east side of the center and
the wagon, heavily guarded, entered the square. A few of the
citizens, Witchit knew he should stop them but couldn’t blame them,
threw rotten fruit at the carriage. Their aim was good enough they
could hit the assassin but not touch any of the guards or giants
escorting it. He had not expected Giant Lords with the party but felt
even more satisfied at their appearance.
The wagon stopped and one of the giants unchained the cage
door while two more brandished their weapons. They swung the
door open and the assassin was too weak to get out of their reach,
so they pulled her brutally from the cage. Though she gave them no
resistance the other guards quickly shackled her. They dragged her
by her dirty red hair to her feet, bound her hands behind her back
and fastened a metal collar around her neck.
 Mekon, Witchit had heard of him and was honestly honored that
he had come this far to see him, joined them and they handed her
leash to him. He ordered them away and he made brief eye contact
with her telling her he was sorry. She didn’t respond in any way.
Mekon walked up the stairs with her as the crowd jeered.
Someone was angry enough to rush at her but there were enough
guards to warn them back.
Again, Witchit knew he should stop them but was too
exhilarated by the sense of hatred and anger.
At the top of the stairs Mekon pushed her to her knees. Witchit
stood, ready for his words to become a legend, and paused as his
authority and stance hushing the angry mob as he spoke.
“Gallif of Starpoint,” Witchit said in a voice clear enough for all
to hear, “You are brought before us accused of the assassination of
the Fourth Minister. You are brought before us accused of the
assassination of King Paleth of the Giant Lords. We will now hear
your defense.”
He took a deep breath ready to denounce her innocence and
forever be remembered by his next words. He was so surprised that
she rose to face him, and his mind raced to maintain control when
she replied “Guilty.”
“Oh, shit,” he said just before all hell broke loose and shouts
and howls of hatred erupted from the crowd in all directions.
“Kill her!”
“Burn her!”
“Send her to the elves where she belongs!”
“Feed her to the elves!”
“Elf! Elf! Elf!”
Despite knowing the truth about the elves, a lifetime of hatred
towards them made their jeers a painful sting and Gallif fought hard
to hide any response and fuel their desire for revenge. A group of
dwarves, halflings and humans started to push forward shaking their
fists and shouting and quickly the hobgoblin militia moved in to
control them. As they positioned themselves it was obvious, they
were more intent on protecting Judge Witchit from any damage and
it was only Gallif’s proximity to him that kept her safe.
 Witchit looked down at the disgusting human woman who had
ruined his last great day. Despite the urge to order her immediate
execution he had followed the rule of law all of his life and would not
break that habit now. She had assassinated the king and the Third
Minister, and she would be taken to Spring Field, go through the
mercy process there, then executed. He would make sure he arrived
there early enough to get a good seat.
Something square and heavy he flew out from the crowd. A
sharp, pointed rock slapped Gallif in the side of the head and she
dropped to the floor unconscious lucky one. There was a cheer for
from some of the crowd and they pushed forward to attack her.
“Get her inside!” Mekon yelled that at the top of his giant lungs.
All of the guards gathered around Gallif and carried her limp
body up the steps. They were unconcerned about Gallif but getting
her inside and out of everyone’s sight would have been the best way
to prevent a riot.
Acrufix took the steps two at a time and quickly follow them to
the main doors of the building. As soon as the judge, Gallif, and the
guards covering her had gone through the doors they closed quickly.
The remaining guards, with Acrufix in front of them, started to
dispose the angry mob.

***

When Gallif opened her eyes the cell she was in started spinning
in circles around her, so she quickly closed them again. She repeated
the process several times and, though the world kept spinning, at
least it started to slow down.
She remembered staring at the judge knowing her guilty plea
had caught him off guard. There was a commotion around her
before a flash of light and then darkness. She remembered
something hitting her and she reached up to touch her forehead.
She winced as she connected with the bruise. She didn’t open her
eyes again and guessed she must have a good-sized knot on her
head. Maybe even of black eye.
 She sighed as she realized what still having the bruises meant
and wasn’t surprised when she touched her stomach and felt a cloth
shirt. Her armor, what if all of the casting properties of healing and
protection, was gone. She reached down further and found, as
expected, she was wearing a cloth pants given to the prisoners. She
wrinkled her toes and she was barefoot.
She opened her eyes in realized that she was facing a stone
wall. The air was cool, and damp and she sensed she was
underground. She puts a hand against a stone then moved forward
and laid her cheek on the surface. She took a long a deep breath,
rolled onto her back and held it as long as she could, then exhaled
slowly. The pain from her bruises lessened and she slowly sat up,
twisted, then wrapped the blanket around her as she rested with her
back against the wall on the cot she had been dumped on.
The sale she was in was an eight by eight-foot square with one
side made of bars and a door. There was another cell across the hall,
but it was dark, and she could not tell if there was anyone inside it.
There were no windows, she was correct that she was underground,
and she could hear the crackling fire of a large number of torches.
She sat silently, her hands on the wall behind her, and breathed
deeply for several moments. The pain finally receded, and she lightly
touched the bruise above her left eye. It was still there but was
definitely not as sensitive as before. She scooted forward and
carefully put her feet onto the floor.
“The prisoner in cell seven is awake,” a voice that seemed to
come from everywhere in the room reported. She looked around,
saw no one else in the area, and suspected that there must have
been a cast on the floor to notify the guards.
She heard the stopping of boots as someone approached in the
hallway and four heavily armed hobgoblins appeared outside the
cell. The captain of the squad nodded at his second-in-command
who unlocked the cell door. He swung it open and they all entered
brandishing very sharp and powerful swords. They took up a stance
side by side between her and the door.
“Four of you, armed and ready, to take me?” she asked. “I’m
not sure if I should be flattered or not.”
 “Your reputation precedes you,” the captain said, “and the
number of people who want you dead is multiplying rapidly.”
She swallowed and looked at them differently as she realized
they were there to protect her. Slowly she stood, they watch her
every move, and before she started walking, she wrapped the
blanket over her shoulders like a cape to keep her warm.
“As far as cells go this one that wasn’t that bad,” she said. “A
little chilly and damp but relatively clean. No rats.”
“We aim to please,” the captain said and walked away. She was
prodded by the remaining guards to follow.
They marched down the hall and were just passing cell number
two when two long, muscular arms suddenly and reached out to
grab her. She was quick enough to step out of reach and look into
the cell. The man there, if you could call him that, pressed himself
against the bars. His skin was dark, and olive colored like Jayus had
been. His eyes were blank, and he spat as he snapped his jaws as if
trying to bite her.
The captain ahead of her slowed only to snap his fingers several
times and the hobgoblin guards prodded her to keep moving.
They went through a common room filled with mostly hobgoblin
guards, but also several humans and drawers. They all stopped what
they were doing and turned to watch her until she left the room.
They went through two locked doors, unlocked and locked by
the same guard, then went up a flight of stairs into another hallway.
She can see by the light slipping through with the base of a door
that she was now on ground level.
They made a sudden turn into an office where she winced at
the intense sunlight coming through a window at the far. She blinked
and tried to put her hands up to cover her face, but the four guards
were strong in quickly pushed her into a chair strapping her arms
into the solid wood. She heard the door close behind are in was
followed by silence. Unable to protect herself from the glare she
clamped her eyes shut and focused as far away from the sun as
possible. She reminded herself to breathe slowly and steadily as she
tried to think things out.
 She wandered how Jakobus was doing in the swamps. Hopefully
he had managed to connect with Novelevon and convince him to
help free the fairies. It was a tall task and she prayed, and the
stranger would help. She had a great deal of confidence in her
dwarven friend and believed that if anyone could convince the self-
exiled hermit to aid them, he could. Certainly, setting right terrible
wrongs and freeing the fairies from the stone cells must be noble
enough for him to follow. If it failed and Novelevon had no interest
and the fate of innocents perhaps the challenge of the cast would be
enough. She also had to consider the progress of Lincilara, Blinks
and their party. It could take another week or more to get to the
dragon burial grounds. Gallif had no doubt they would make it, but
what would happen once they were there was a big mystery. Would
the danger they had faced the first time to be gone or would they be
multiplied? Would the puzzles be the same? Marassa, before she
had been exposed as a spy, had warned them that it took the right
combination of talents to make it through the tunnels. She knew
that the combination of a fairy, a human and one of the others was
unique and she allowed herself to be confident in their success.
She chuckled as she thought how Veret, her little brother, would
have loved to go through the tunnels. The daemon and all the other
things she had seen there would have thrilled him.
She sighed thinking how Maura would have handled it. The
Maura she had met, the one that stole her heart, might not have
handled the Burial Grounds well, but the Maura that was the
ambassador for the Others could have taken charge of any
expedition. Gallif imagined that the talented ambassador could even
have talked Marassa in to helping them.
She felt a great wave of sadness cover her as she thought how
those two important souls were both gone. Maura had been killed by
Veret’s hand and he it been killed by Gallif. She still felt their warm
blood on her skin.
There was also Luvin, that bright guiding light of a boy who had
told her, correctly, that he would one day die for her. His life had
revolved around her. He had never expected he would be betrayed
by that bastard Jayus who had chosen the false legend of Acrufix
over a life of a young man. The guilt was there, she couldn’t deny
the guilt that she had failed to protect him like he had her. The guilt
that she knew she must someday face.
She heard the creek of a chair moving and her eyes snapped
open as she realized she was not alone in the room.
“Who is that?” she asked with the sunlight still blinding her.
Someone stood and she could barely make out their silhouette
as they passed back and forth in front of the window. She guessed
by the size that it was human, but she couldn’t tell if it was male or
female.
“If you’re trying to scare me is really not working,” she said. “I
can wait as long as you want,” she added trying to stretch her arms
but the bonds on the chair were total. “I suppose I really don’t have
much else to do.”
The figure turned and before she could blink was suddenly
standing directly in front of her. She tried to adjust her sight but
before she could she received a powerful slap on the left side of her
face. Its strength and suddenness caught her by surprise as head
jerked to one side. She swallowed, tasted blood, and tried to spit it
at her attacker, but just as fast they were suddenly behind her as
one hand took a tight grip on her red hair and another grabbed her
throat.
“Face me you coward,” she croaked.
“You are the most evil person the Land of Starpoint has ever
produced. You assassinated a king and the Fourth Minister,” the
tormentor said. “You also brought down the mountain. Do you think,
if I killed you now, anyone would really care?”
“Yes, I do. I’m sure that the Third Minister of the Giant Lords
would.” There was a pause from her tormentor, so she continued.
“I’m sure he’ll want to see me before the execution, and you know
what? I want to see him.”
“You must think you are charmed,” her tormentor, who she
could tell by his voice, was male, smeared with his face next to her
ear. “You survived the fall of Starpoint Mountain, a tarna infestation,
with the Others in the swamps, how many more? Why do you
survive?” he asked, and she felt his grip on her throat tighten.
 She tried to swallow, couldn’t, and forced the panic down inside
of her.
“Tell me now, Gallif. Why do you survive?”
She tried to speak but couldn’t. Her breaths were more and
more shallow.
“Do you survive because you’re important?” he asked and
waited for an answer.
Gallif’s vision was starting to blur and she wasn’t sure if she
heard his words correctly.
“Or are you just lucky?” he asked and released his grip on her
throat.
Gallif coughed violently several times. Her reflexes took her
forward each time only to be yanked back by his grip on her hair.
She started breathing heavily and tried to massage her throat, but
the strips would not allow it.
“You are not afraid of death, are you?” he asked lightheartedly.
“No,” she said in a strong and honest voice.
“I used to be,” he said.
His openness surprised her and that she desperately tried to put
a face with a voice.
“I tried to run away from it, hide from it, but now I’ve felt it
twice,” her tormentor said. “Both times and your hands,” he seethed
in anger.
Suddenly he was directly in front of her and though she didn’t
fear death she feared what he had become. His skin was sickly and
blue and cracked as if the body had been dead for several days. His
hair was dark and matted and had grown to a shaggy bush. His
teeth were yellow and decayed while his mouth and tongue were
black. Despite the deathly look his eyes were the most energetic she
had ever seen. In them she felt she could see all the hatred and
anger of the entire world of burning in his soul.
As much of a threat Zaslow had been to her before she never
felt in as much danger as she did right now.

***
 “Kallaf it is the most horrible thing the Land of Starpoint as ever
seen, worse than the elves, and I think it is important that I escort
her to the execution,” Acrufix said.
They were meeting in a plain barefaced room in the capitol
building in Outbound. There was a flat wooden table surrounded by
four chairs in which three important of officers sat.
Acrufix, the Elven Killer, sat in one chair with his arms she
rested on the table looking out from the blank faced helmet. After
Gallif had been escorted into the building he had helped secure the
gates and prevent a riot. The angry crowd had been ordered to
return to their homes and had obediently but reluctantly retreated.
After that he had searched for the judge who would handle her
extradition and found him here. Despite the fact that he was a
human surrounded by two giants the presence of his armor and
legends equaled their status.
Mekon and sat at the table laid back into his chair. H he wore no
insignia or uniform to identify him as a Special Agents of the Giant
Lords. He had presented his credentials, hidden in the heel of one of
his boots, before going into the swamps to hunt Gallif. He would be
in charge of the convoy to take Gallif on the long and dangerous trip
to Spring Field for her execution.
The third official at the table was Judge Witchit himself. Despite
his advanced age he was invigorated by the case after the shock of
her confession had worn off. He had already notified his staff that he
was not planning to officially retire quite yet and that all of his
responsibilities, except for Gallif, would be moved to his successor.
Behind him stood his assistants. Each wore dark robes from head to
toe and one held a scale in his right hand while the other in his left
them.
“Of course, I understand,” Mekon said a glaring at Acrufix. “As a
Special Agent I will be in control of the caravan and make sure Gallif
gets to Spring Field safely.”
“Understood,” Judge Witchit said that with a hint of a smile. “It
would be as shame if she got killed on her way to her execution.”
He let out a hearty laugh that died quickly when he got no response
from the other two at the table. “Forgive my sense of humor,” he
said without real embarrassment. “I’ve found after all these years of
being a judge, some of the unspeakable crimes I’ve dealt with, that
a good sense of humor goes a long way.”
“I’m having the militia put together a caravan now and we will
leave as soon as possible,” Mekon informed the judge.
“In the middle of the night?” Judge Witchit asked.
“Yes. The fewer people who see us leave the better. Judge, you
all will lead in your personal carriage. I believe you have it ready.”
“Yes,” Judge Witchit nodded. “My personal security guards will
ride on horseback.”
“As will the hobgoblin escorts, “Mekon continued. “That will be
followed by three covered prison wagons. I will be in the first when
we leave but will change from wagon to wagon as we go.”
“Which one will Kallaf be in?” Acrufix asked leaning forward.
“The prisoner,” Mekon said with anger, “will be inside one of the
wagons. Only myself, the guard captain, and a few of his officers will
know which one she is in.”
Acrufix just leaned back in the chair and shook his head.
“She should be ready to go soon,” Judge Witchit said then
turned it to his attendant on his right. “Find Captain Fane,” he said.
“Ask him where she is.”
Without a word the attendant handed his scale to the attendant
on the left, who took to scale in his free hand and held them even,
as he exited.
“Mekon,” Judge Witchit turned to him with a sudden
seriousness. “Just how much danger do you think will be in?”
“You saw the anger in the crowd today. She murdered a beloved
king and destroyed the symbol of our land. There are lots of citizens
who want her dead. Killing her would it make them part of a
legend,” he said glancing briefly at Acrufix.
“One of my security guards is an experienced caster,” the judge
said. “Her prowess is remarkable.”
“Good, I’ll be glad she’s with us,” Mekon said without
excitement.
There was a knock at the door and the attendant entered the
room, retrieved his scale, and then whispered something to the
judge.
“He’s right outside?” Witchit asked. Both Mekon and Acrufix
caught and the concern in his voice. With the attendant whispered a
few more things than the judge rose. “Captain Fane is right outside.
He said he personally saw his men leave the detention cell and bring
Gallif up here. She should have been here for some time,” he said
and walked out the door.
Mekon and Witchit rose quickly and followed him. Even before
they got to the outer office Judge Witchit and Captain Fane were in
an intense conversation.
“You’re positive she was escorted out There?” the judge asked.
“Yes, sir! I saw them leave the cell myself,” he insisted refusing
to back down despite the hobgoblin’s size of compared to the giants.
Fane was very good as his job.
“Has anyone left the building?”
“No, we had the building locked down since we brought her in.
My teams have been stationed at every exit and the roof. I
guarantee you she could not have left the building.”
“How many different routes are there?” Mekon asked stepping
forward. “How many different ways could they get from her cell to
this office?”
“There are several,” Fane said as she quickly ran through the
possibilities. “Excuse me, judge,” Fane said as he turned and ran into
the hall with Mekon and Acrufix close behind. “Lieutenant,” Fane
called to one of the officers waiting there. “Get two guards; follow
the route from the cells to here via the armory again. You do the
same via of the dining hall,” he snapped at another guard then
looked up at Mekon and Acrufix. “You two will follow me.”
He sprinted down the hallway, took a sharp left turn at an
intersection, and then took the stairs to the next lower level. They
were on ground level now where some of the humans, dwarves, and
halflings worked. They parted company as the three-foot-tall captain
ran through the lobby followed by the seven-foot-tall giant the
legend and armor. They went down another flight of stairs and
stopped at a dark and intersection with two guards at their stations.
They told Fane that no one had passed by in any direction since with
the prisoner was originally brought through. Fane ordered them to
fall alert and informed them the prisoner was missing. They were
too good of soldiers to show any surprise.
“Captain! This way!” one of the lieutenants called from the
other end of the passage. Fane read in that direction coming to an
immediate stop when he came around the corner and saw the
carnage ahead of them. Mekon and Acrufix came to a stop just a
few seconds later.
There had been a bloodbath in this part of the hall. Four
hobgoblin guards had been slaughtered. Their bodies lay in chunks
scattered across the hall. They had a puncher and slice wounds on
their chests, necks and backs. Fane prayed for their souls and knew
they had died honorably. They had their hands tightly gripped
around their weapons and had done their duty to the very end.
Further down the hallway Gallif lay face down in a pool of her
own blood. Mekon and Acrufix ran to her and Mekon, the gentle
giant, carefully rolled her over. He was taken by the fact that her
eyes were open and then relieved that she was still breathing. He
used part of her prison uniform to wipe blood from her nose and
mouth when she started gasping for air. There was a cut in her left
cheek then ran all the way down to her chin and was bleeding
profusely. She also had a severe cut down on her right arm.
Mekon quickly examined the scene to take it all in. There was
nothing in this hall outside the combat area. From where Gallif lay
there it was nothing else around her other than a blood track of
footprints from the bodies of the guards.
Breathing heavily from the rush Judge Witchit came around the
corner and also examined the scene. He shook his head sadly and
also prayed for their souls. He walked over to Gallif and looks down
at her and disgust.
“If it were was in my purview, I would decapitate you this
second!” he said through clenched teeth. “I will make sure, however,
that these four noble guards are never forgotten and will honor
them for wounding you enough to prevent you from escaping.” He
bent down and roughly brush her hair back so he can see the side of
her head. “It’s a pity,” he said spitting on her. “I had some hope that
a heartless monster like you would have pointed ears.”
 CHAPTER TWO: FAMILIAR TOUCH
Gallif blinked several times as she woke. She expected to be
back in the dark, damp underground cell and was surprised to see a
brighter, clean ceiling above her. She took a deep breath and picked
up the distinct smells of chemicals mixed together. She was in a
healing ward.
Was she hurt? She remembered Zaslow’s dead like face in front
of her, a sharp pain on her cheek, then nothing. She stayed still and
carefully let her senses examine her whole body.
There was some pressure to on her left arm, completely
surrounding it, and she realized she was bandaged up even though
there was no pain is there. Her left leg below the knee gave her the
same sensation.
She felt more pressure on her face and tried to open her jaw
when a sharp stab of pain rocked her to one side. Instinctively she
tried to reach up and massage her cheek, but her arms wouldn’t
move. They were bound at the wrists and she now knew she was
strapped into a cot in the jail. She struggled to move but found her
legs were strapped in as well.
“Don’t move,” am not unfamiliar voice said as the speaker came
towards her. “Don’t open your eyes, Gallif,” the woman spoke
quickly. “Don't move a muscle. Just lay there are like you are still
out.”
With that the speaker moved away just before she heard a door
open and movement as two people entered the room.
“Is she going to be alright?” a deep voice that she recognized as
Mekon asked.
“She lost lots of blood, but she’ll be okay. Her cuts have been
cleaned and there’s no risk of infection,” the familiar voice said.
“What about healing potions?” Mekon asks genuinely confused.
“We aren’t allowed to use healing potions on prisoners.”
“So, she’ll have scars on her legs and face.”
 “Better than the rips and gouges she sliced into the guards
trying to escape,” another giant voice snapped.
“Of course, your honor,” Mekon said, his voice restrained.
“I’ve put off my retirement until this things life comes to an,”
Judge Witchit said. “Like a stain on our civilization I want to see her
permanently removed.”
“As do I,” a third voice, lighter and lower, added. “I lost four of
my guards who were handpicked to an elite force. I will follow her to
her grave as well.”
“Criminals like this shouldn’t get a grave,” Witchit said seething
with anger. “She should be burned alive to prepare her for the hell
she will spend forever in.”
“Yes, your honor,” the lighter voice agreed.
“How soon can we get the caravan moving?”
“It’s ready at any time,” the lighter voice reported.
“There is no reason for this to wait then, whether she’s
conscious or not I want us moving in two hours,” Judge Witchit
ordered sharply. “We will leave Outbound before sundown. Perhaps
we will get attacked after dark and have to feed her to the Others
for bait.”
She could hear the door open, footsteps as they marched out,
then the slam and lock of the metal door. She waited quietly not
moving a muscle.
“It’s OK Gallif, the gone,” a familiar voice said.
Gallif opened her eyes and looked up at the figure looking down
at her. She slowly started to smile but there was a sting from the cut
on her left cheek. Despite the pain and Gallif was happy to see the
olive colored skin of Rosario, who she had known at the school
before the mountain fell.
Gallif and Rosario had been friends. They had known and liked
each other since they’d met. They’d had classes together, spent free
time together, and trusted each other. Gallif had repeatedly said that
Rosario was the best healer in the Land of Starpoint with casting
skills the giants would be envious of. Rosario had said Gallif’s scales
of reading nature were uncanny and could teach others how to tell
which way the deer would run despite the fact she had the worst
handwriting anyone had ever seen.
Rosario smiled and urged Gallif to stay calm. “You’ve been cut
on your left cheek between your eye and your jaw. We’ve cleaned it
and closed it, so you won’t get infected.” Rosario brushed some of
Gallif’s red hair back and gently ran her fingers across her chin. “I’m
sorry. I can’t get any healing potions to remove the scar. They keep
a pretty tight inventory on their supplies. They just wanted to keep
you alive and they didn’t care just how healthy you were.”
Gallif looked deeply into Rosario’s eyes and thanked her friend
for everything she’d done.
“I don’t remember how it happened,” Gallif said calmly.
“You don’t remember anything?” Rosario asked gently running
her fingers through Gallif’s hair feeling her skin and bones. She had
done this before and was relieved that she had missed any scars or
soft spots.
“The guards were taking me to be questioned,” Gallif said trying
to remember what happened. “We were walking through a hall and
then…? A sudden…?” she searched for the memory of what had
happened next and it quickly came back to her. “Zaslow!” she said
tense with anger. “He is here!”
Rosario put at hand on Gallif’s shoulder and tried to call her
down. She released the bonds on the Gallif’s arms, and the younger
woman sat up to face her.
“There was a man,” Gallif said in shock. “He’d once been a
special agent for the Giant Lords. His name was Zaslow, and he had
been assigned to infiltrate some of the followers of the Invisible
Gods. He ended up joining them, becoming a believer, and making
moves against the Giant Lords.”
Rosario grasps in shock. Like and so many she had worshiped
the Giant Lords and the thought of anyone rebelling against them
was unfamiliar, but her faith in the Giants’ wasn’t as strong as her
allegiance to her friend.
“He was inside the mountain gaining strength when we found
him. I killed him, are at least one of him.”
“One of him?”
 “Some new casting. A jump casting with multiple exits so he can
make copies of himself.”
Rosario’s mind was racing. The idea was almost frightening, yet
she could see how it could work. She froze as she imagined the
possibilities and was horrified by the consequences.
“We fought and killed the second one in the swamps. There is a
third one here.”
“Gallif slowdown. I don’t understand what all you’re saying. I
don’t know for sure what you’ve been doing. Yet, somehow, I knew
that you had some things to do with the fall of Starpoint Mountain
when you came back to the school but kept everything a secret if,”
Rosario said shaking her head.
Gallif knew Rosario was telling the truth. She breathed deeply
and slowed her thoughts so she could tell what happened in the
correct order.
“All I knew was she left the school and headed to Spring Field,”
Rosario continued. “The dwarf, Jacobus, and Luvin left the next day.
Did they find you?”
Gallif felt as if her heart had stopped for a brief second as a
reminder of what had happened to Luvin. How he had been
betrayed by Acrufix. How he had been betrayed by her. Rosario
could see the pain and Gallif’s eyes and hugged her to comfort her
in the loss to.
After a few moments they separated and Gallif told her friend
what had happened…

“…the elves are cursed,” Rosario repeated. “The Giant Lords

have known that for hundreds of years…”
“Yes, they knew I didn’t tell a soul. Did nothing to stop it. Did
nothing to stop us from hating them.”
“It gave them power?” Rosario asked still reeling from the
revelation.
“Yes,” Gallif nodded. “How many times has there been a royal
proclamation that didn’t, in some way, mention that the evil of
aquilus? We are taught from day one to be afraid of them. With that
constant threat who was the top only one who could protect us but
the Giant Lords?”
“It’s a convenient threat,” Rosario nodded. “The elves aren’t
always evil. We, the people of the Land of Starpoint, have hounded
and murdered them for centuries,” Rosario hung her head. She
looked at the floor for several minutes ashamed to face even Gallif.
"The Others are willing to help that this curse?"
"Hopefully. They have a very wise and powerful caster named
Novelevon who Jakobus is looking for. Hopefully, by now, they will be
in contact.”
"The elves are all evil," Rosario said begin to make sure she
understood it. "We never give them a chance. Whenever we thought
about them, heard about them, or on the rare occasions we solve
them, we never given the chance to be the opposite. It never
occurred to me that we could be wrong." "Just like we thought all of
the giants were good," Gallif whispered looking straight at her.
Rosario leaned close to Gallif and said in almost a whisper, "I
don't know if I can get you out of here."
"You don't have to," Gallif whispered back. "I need to go to
Spring Field and face the Third Minister there."
Rosario looked hard at Gallif and Gallif stared back at her. As
hard as it was for Rosario to believe what Gallif was saying and
going to do she saw the truth and determination and Gallif's eyes.
Combining her instincts and her trust in her friend she didn't ask any
more questions. Gallif knew Rosario would trust her and said, "My
throat is really dry."
Telling her that, as an infirmary, they were regularly given fresh
water from a well outside Rosario gave her a wooden cup of cool
water. Gallif drank half of the cup carefully then put a hand on her
sore cheek.
"How bad is this?" She asked Rosario openly.
"It's pretty bad," Rosario said sadly "if we had a few days, some
mooberries, and a few elm leaf extracts I can probably get rid of it.
It would be gone by now if they'd let us use potions, but they plan
on executing you and won't allow us to use them on you. It'll heal,
I'm sure they'll be no infection, but the scar is permanent."
 "Can I see it?"
Rosario thought about resisting but couldn't deny the truth to
her friend. She grabbed a small mirror and handed it to Gallif. Gallif
held a mirror up to her face and put a hand on Rosario's arm as
Rosario lifted the corner of the bandage. Gallif clenched her teeth
tight as she saw the scar on her face. She took a deep breath and
hand is a mirror back to Rosario then looked at the floor fighting
back tears.
Rosario gently put her fingers on Gallif's chin and lifted her head
up to look into her eyes. She thoughts only briefly and then leaned
forward and kissed Gallif on the lips. Gallif leaned into her and kissed
her back before resting her head on Rosario shoulder.
"I'll stay with you as long as I can," Rosario said.

It wasn't long before Mekon and a squad of heavily armed

guards were back to retrieve her. Gallif was on her back and Rosario
had repositioned the strips so she could not move.
"Gallif," Mekon said gently as he looked down at the woman
who had once saved his life. "Were going to put you in a close
wagon and set out for Spring Field within an hour. This will not be an
easy trip," he said flatly. "There's a lot of people who, like myself are
forever loyal to the Giant Lords. There's a hatred in them that wants
the privilege of executing you themselves." "I can't say that I blame
them," Gallif admitted. "I remember, just a year ago, I would've felt
the same way that they do. Before I met Zaslow inside the
mountain. Before I met you." She didn't hide the feelings of betrayal
she had for him. Despite what he had seen her do he was just too
dedicated to the Giant Lords to consider they were not all good. "I
imagine, once they execute me, you'll be rewarded for your service."
Mekon showed no sign of guilt or sorrow and just shook his
head. "We're going to have three cots completely wrapped in
blankets. They'll be identical and no one will know which one is you.
They'll be put one each in three carriages. That's where you'll stay
until we reach Spring Field. Everything you need will be in the side.
It'll be close and cramped but, once inside, you'll be able to move
freely."
 "It should be summer soon, "Gallif said. "A three-week trip from
here to there. I might survive the heat."
"What about her injuries?" Rosario asked. "Those are still fresh
they may not heal properly trapped inside there like that for three
weeks."
Mekon looked at her like she was mad to question him but
decided not to discipline her and ordered, "Get a sack of fresh
bandages and whatever she would need together. If you can get it
to the stables in six minutes, we will take it with us."
With that he turned to the guards and nodded. They
approached Gallif and laid a blanket over her from head to toe. It
was thick enough that she could not see through its fibers. She
could still hear them and tell by their movements they were not
trying to be gentle. They stumbled but kept her aloft and after a
lengthy series of twists and turns she was suddenly outside of the
building. There was a brief pause as she heard the chirping of birds
in the distance. She sucked in his much fresh air as she could
through the blanket, held it in her lungs, then exhaled slowly
through her nose.
She felt a brief glimmer of hope as she heard the soft rumbling
in the distance. No, not really a rumbling, but the snort of the most
amazing pure white horse in the world. Snow was nearby and Gallif
sighed in relief.
She heard a squeaky hinge followed by the sensation of being
lifted into the air. She felt movement and a voice incredibly close to
her whispered, "I'm going to cut your bonds while we're here, but if
you try to get off the cot or attack me the guards will have no choice
but to kill you. Do you understand?"
She waited, felt nothing, then was shocked by a slap on her
scarred cheek. She ground her teeth together not wanting to give
whoever this was the satisfaction of having hurt her, so she just
nodded that she understood. She laid there quietly as the bands
were removed and stayed still until she heard the squeaky hinges
and the doors close and bolted shut. Almost instantly the whole
carriage started rattling as it moved out towards the capital city of
the Giant Lords.
 CHAPTER THREE: AS GALLIF MARKED TIME
The Second Minister of the Giant Lords stood on the highest
viewing level above the capital city of Spring Field. As he looked out,
he thought how much things have changed in such a short time.
Less than a year ago he could've stood at the same spot looking in
the same direction and just barely see the edge of the capital Terra
Ferla forest on the horizon. It was a thin darker green stripe that ran
completely along the north-south horizon only to be broken by the
blessed Starpoint Mountain. Even he had dreamed, as a child, that
he would climb to the top of the behemoth and touch the lights in
the sky. Now it was gone. Broken up into a crew, five-pointed
mountain range with stone twin towers in the center that climbed as
high as he stood right now.
Now there were nights that he dreamt about the mountain and
how it fell. In his dreams the rumbling of the land never stopped and
soon all that he knew was swallowed into the broken ground. Then
there was when the last of the dwarves were swallowed into the
ground. Some nights it was the humans that were last to go into the
abyss. Once in a while it was even the elves that lasted. However,
every night, in every dream, it was the giants that were the first to
go.
His eyes wandered to the southeast. His spies had informed him
that Gallif had been captured in the swamps and, by now, should be
in Outbound. With any luck she would soon be on her way here
where he could finally speak to her himself. He believed she knew
the truth that would finally expose the Third Minister as a traitor.
The Second Minister had been carefully mounting the evidence
against the Third Minister. Slowly and delicately his spies had spoken
with people and kept track of where the Third Minister went. They
also never lost sight of the fact that for every spy or informant they
had the Third Minister had one, if not two, to counter them.
He hopes that Gallif would have the information they needed.
He did not know for sure what part she may have had in the fall of
Starpoint Mountain but knew she had been involved. He also knew
that she had not killed the King. There were so many casts and
guards protecting the King no matter where he went that even
someone as exceptionally talented as her could not have gotten that
close. Close enough to kill him.
He was also curious by the fact that, according to the reports,
she had been spotted in the swamps the same day he had been
assassinated. The only way to cover that much space in that short of
a time was with jump casting in few people were able to perform
that complicated of the cast. Even if she had it at her disposal it
would make no sense to jump in and assassinate the King there and
then. Why not assassinate him at some private moment instead of
having a thousand witnesses.
He looked at the southeast again hoping he had enough of his
operatives in place to intercept her wagon before it arrived in Spring
Field. The Giant Lord laws were just, but if she fell into the hands of
the Third Minister with this public anger against her she would die.
He turned to see that Sixth Minister coming towards him. One
of his falcon messengers was resting on his leather shoulder pad.
The small container strapped under its wing was open and the Sixth
Minister had a paper in his hand.
The Sixth Minister moved closer and they stood side by side
facing away from the city. This way they could speak clearly, and no
one could hear them.
"She'll be leaving Outbound today," the Sixth Minister said
indicating the notes on the paper.
"You are sure?"
"Positive," he said crumpling the paper up and tossing it off the
platform. He closed the leather container the falcon carried, and the
bird flew away.
"Good," the Second Minister nodded. "We should prepare her
defense for trial. At least that will give us time."
"She pled guilty," the Sixth Minister informed him and waited
some time for him to respond.
"Why the hell would she do that? I was so sure that she was
innocent."
 "I still believe she is. She's quite intelligent," the Sixth Minister
said stroking his beard.
"We best advance our plans. Perhaps even send a team out to
intercept her sooner," the Second Minister suggested.
"Agreed."
"I'll put some of my agents on it immediately."
"Fair enough," the Sixth Minister said than added, "We need to
meet in my office sometime later today."
The Second Minister was so surprised it took him a full minute
to speak. He knew the Third Minister was watching them both so the
last time they spent together the better. Coming here to this
platform was actually easier than meeting inside the capital buildings
and offices.
"Do you think that's wise?"
"I think it's a must," the Sixth Minister said flatly. "We've
suspected for a while that the Third Minister was working on some
top-secret project far out in the Rainbow Mountains. Something in
the mining and metal forging region he didn't want us to know or
see. I sent an expedition to find out the truth."
The Second Minister could not deny how impressed he was.
They had suspected something but had been unable to find any
hints to back them up.
"What do you have?" The Second Minister asked looking
towards the western horizon where the Rainbow Mountains were
extremely close.
"Not sure yet. I got word this morning that half of the
expedition was returning and requested that I be in my office just
after sundown."
"As will I," the Second Minister nodded.

***

The Third Minister sat in his private quarters. He took a large,

slow draw from his pipe, let the noxious mists swirl in his lungs, then
exhale slowly. Not feeling any better he took a sip of his hot tea. The
combination of the two usually helped clear his thoughts and settle
his nerves. Despite his extraordinary willpower the lack of sleep was
taking its toll on him.
No matter how many times he thought things through he still
felt there was something he was missing. The King had been
assassinated and everyone thought Gallif was guilty. All of her
power, all of the trust that the citizens had placed in her was gone.
His contacts told him it was true. She was no longer a threat to the
Giant Lords. More importantly, she was no longer a threat to him.
He would wait a respectable amount of time after the mourning
finished and then offer himself for a candidate for King. He knew
they would be shocked and probably protest saying there was
nothing in their own laws that could support that claim. He would
admit that they were correct. Then he would point out to them that
there was also nothing that said he could not be a candidate for the
position. Weeks, possibly months, of debate would follow in the
beginning he would let the debate play out naturally, he knew who
his friends were, but if he felt the tide turning against him he would
use the dark secrets the ministers had to make them support him.
He had worked hard and secretively defined what their secrets were
and for those who had nothing he could use he would create them
instead.
Never one not to have another trick up his sleeve he was sure
that his projects inside the Rainbow Mountains were already
finished. If he could not get control of the Land of Starpoint by hand
he would use force.
He bit his lip on the thought of Marassa no longer being
involved in his operation. She had been an effective agent and was
missed. Once he took the throne, he would send a group of special
agents to retrieve her. If she was no longer there, they could still
bring back the library. Zaslow was no longer available either. That
human disease, the female, had killed the second him and the desks
were taking their toll on the original. When Zaslow had last been
here the decay have begun and his mind was harder and harder to
control. The Third Minister had made some special casts so Zaslow
could not jump into his office or private rooms again.
 There was a shimmer on one wall and the only agent he had
left who could jump cast came into the room.
Welcome, Acrufix," the Third Minister smiled. "Please be
seated."
"Thank you, my Lord," Acrufix said and took a seat at the table.
"You have news?"
"Yes, she's in Outbound now and they'll be heading our way
today. They could be here in 2 to 3 weeks." "Good. I've been looking
through the roster of public defenders who could be picked to
represent her. Bona is good on smaller cases but will never last in
the case this big. His nerves are shot. Todora is also good but is
incredibly slow in his work. They'll want a speedy trial and it would
take months if they assigned her to him. Paytheo, Theon and Sohu
are excellent at what they do but I know their secrets. The only
wildcard is Nuroe. He's tough, solid, and clean."
"My Lord, that won't be necessary. She pled guilty."
In shock the Third Minister slammed his fist on the table as he
stood. He finished the rest of his tea in a single gulp and smashed
the ceramic cup against the wall.
What could she have? What could she know? There had to be
some advantage to occur for cutting the process short. She would
immediately be taken to the Royal Court where the death sentence
would be passed. The next morning, she would die, but for that
single, last moment, where she would be face-to-face with the
Council of Ministers, the Royal High Judge, and the widowed Queen.
"She had all of her belongings taken from her?" The Third
Minister asked.
"Yes, and they have been packed into a trunk and will be inside
the caravan."
The Third Minister nodded. If she had something with her, a
weapon, source stone or charm that could protect her she would be
separated from it. He couldn't help but wonder if there was a cast
upon her.
"Do you know the roots they will take?" The Third Minister
asked quickly.
"Not yet, but I will be able to get it once they are underway."
 The Third Minister intently soft about his next move. He
purposefully walked to one of the cabinets, opened it with a wand,
then retrieved a sack about the size of a human arm and tossed into
Acrufix.
"Go there and plant this somewhere on the caravan. It's filled
with oreg spices. The monster aquilus will pick up the scent a mile
away and come after it."
"Your honor, I must remind you that there are hobgoblin militia
guards who will be escorting her. They will be well able to handle
over a hundred elves."
"Yes, I know. The elves won't destroy the caravan, but they will
slow it down and weaken it. Then you will move in for the kill."
There was a long pause before Acrufix nodded and confirmed
that he would do what he was ordered.
"Go quickly," the Third Minister ordered and continued as
Acrufix stood and the shimmering of the jump cast started. "When
this is finished bring me back a handful of her red hair," he said
staring at the broken teacup.
Acrufix stepped into the shimmer and the jump cast dissipated
before the Third Minister looked back.
He relaxed into the chair and took a long draw on the pipe. He
felt much better now knowing that, within a short time, Gallif would
be dead. His plans would carry on as he expected in a few months
he would be King of the Giant Lords. In a here he would be Emperor.
Very soon, and long before that day, Gallif would die and the
dreams he had of her sitting in the Giant Lords throne would stop.
He hoped.

***

As the last of the palace towers collapsed into dust the Sixth
Minister fell to his knees. He was wounded, devastated, and the war
was lost. All but one of the other ministers was dead. Krove still
lived, of course, because he was the one who had appointed himself
leader.
 Amongst the rubble and debris of the palace he saw a figure
emerged and come walking towards him. It was Emperor Krove and,
despite his title, the Sixth Minister felt no need to rise.
"All the gods will turn their backs on you for this, Krove," the
Sixth Minister growled angrily at him. "Even the Invisible Gods will
believe this is beneath them."
"All minor gods compared to me," Krove said wild eyed. "I, and
I alone, makes the choice of life and death," he said with insanity in
his eyes. "For you, little giant, I choose death!" With one swift move
he swung his sword to decapitate his prisoner.
The Sixth Minister jumped up at his desk. Wide-awake now he
dropped back into his chair breathing heavily. He wiped the sweat
from his four head and brushed his beard to straighten out the
tangled strands. He leaned forward and put his head into his hands
until his nerves calmed.
Once he was breathing normally, he stared out the broad
windows facing south and saw the sun was just barely above the
horizon on the west. The shadows were creeping their way eastward
and it would soon be dark.
He thought about rolling and smoking some of the long, dark
grass that prospectors had discovered growing in the yellow range of
the Rainbow Mountains. It was quite good. He smoked it twice
weekly and enjoyed the flights of fancy that followed, but decided
tonight was too important to be distracted.
It wasn't long before the Second Minister arrived, and they
waited impatiently for over an hour. It was dark outside when they
heard the brief tapping on the wooden roof beams and a dark clad
figure swung from the roof and expertly landed inside the open
window. The figure had a long letter to strap to its back like an
arrow. It quickly pulled the hood back and revealed it to be a female
dwarf.
She moved carefully and watched every step she took as she
walked to a large table. The black robes swung lightly and there
were hints of many possible weapons she carried out of sight she
was obviously someone not to be messed with.
"I'm glad to see you," the Sixth Minister said.
 "Thank you, I am honored to do good for you," the dwarf
replied.
"How many were lost?"
"Three out of eight, sir" she reported sadly.
The Sixth Minister winced at the bad news and said, "I want to
make sure their families, if they had any, are given something to
help compensate for their loss."
"Thank you, sir," she nodded. "I will make sure they remember
their loved ones."
"We will remember them with honor."
"Thank you, sir. I am honored to do good for you. May I make
my reports?" She asked glancing at the Second Minister.
"Yes, this is my friend and confidant. I trust him as much as I
trust you."
"Understood. We weren't able to get inside the forges they have
out there, but we are able to confirm that there is some massive
operation taking place. They are carving through the green
mountain range and a massive rate and funneling all the iron they
can into the forges."
"Are they making weapons and armor?" The Sixth Minister
asked quickly.
"No, those forges are still working but they are making less than
their usual amounts. Any extra hands they can have are working on
a massive forge. It's also guarded quite heavily. We took our losses
trying to get inside its," she said.
"What do you suspect? What's your opinion?"
We couldn't get into that factory or anything around it," she
admitted reluctantly. "However, we checked some of the smaller
forges, the usual ones that do traditional metals. We found this," she
said and pulled the hard leather tube from her back. She popped it
open and rolled the drawing onto the table. "Honestly, sir, I don't
know what it is."
Both ministers leaned over the table and press their hands
against the edges of the paper to view it entirely. The Sixth Minister
finally sat down with his elbows resting on the table to support him.
 "I know what it is," the Second Minister said in a shocked
whisper. "I've seen this on a small scale, but nobody could get it to
work. The targeting is unreliable and difficult to use."
"If they've managed to go beyond that, in this does what it's
supposed to do, it would need accurate targeting. With this you
could..." the Sixth Minister said and stumbled to catch his breath.
“You could take down a mountain," the Second Minister finished
his thoughts.
 CHAPTER FOUR: THAT DAY
Compared to the caravan he was leading even Mekon the giant
looked small. He sat on the front of the first, and biggest, wagon
being drawn by sturdy horses. Each of the eight wheels of the
wagon was as wide as the average human was tall. The wheels were
double to handle the rough road and heavy weight of the Giants that
usually rode with it. The doors on both sides were barred from
within and the windows had been completely boarded-up. Along
with Mekon to drive the wagon there were six hobgoblin guards on
the roof, three mounted on each side, and one guards sitting on a
perch to watch behind them. Each guard was armed with especially
cast arrows that burst into flames as they flew through the air. At
night they would be doubly useful as they would make the target
easier to find.
The second wagon, almost 2/3 the size of the first, was driven
by an incredibly heavy dwarf but still had the same amount of
protection. The third wagon had to halflings as its drivers and just as
many guards.
In addition to that there was a fourth wagon just as large as the
first. There were no guards on the sides of the wagon and only for
on top. It was where the Cook's road with their supplies and those
who had a few hours off-duty during the day were allowed to sleep
inside it.
There were also several noticeably large and muscular humans,
four male and three females, who rode horses on each side of the
caravan. They carry large and heavy war hammers and were
definitely trained to use them.
The leader of the hobgoblin militia, Che-Wing, and his two aides
also rode on horseback and steadily worked their way along the
caravan making sure everything was in its place.
Acrufix had joined the caravan sometime after leaving
Outbound. Sometimes he would follow it, sometimes he would lead
it, and other times he would write almost unseen in the trees or
feels off the road. He stayed mostly to himself and there was always
a feeling, even when they couldn't see him, that he was watching.
Despite all that there had been nine attempts to find Gallif
during the first week. The six during the day had been easily
repelled, only one required the archers to fire, and the other three
have happened at night.
The first attempt had snuck in just after sundown on the first
night. She had been quite good just to get inside the perimeter,
enough to make Mekon worry, but had not been good enough to
avoid the swords of the three guards sleeping under the wagon.
The second had been nestled among the trees waiting for the
wagons to pass underneath just before dawn and had been easily
spotted he had been chased out of the trees by the archers on
Mekon's wagon long before they passed beneath the branch.
The third had tried to attack just after sundown. He had been
better at hiding in the tree’s unseen, but his timing was off. He
jumped off the branch as the wagon passed and missed it
completely making a distinct splat as he hit the hard surface road.
Only Mekon knew were Gallif really was. Before the morning
and evening meals the cooks would go to the three wagons and
slide a stone plate of food through a slot. An hour later they would
return and find the same empty plates lying on the ground below.
There was absolutely no sign that would indicate where she was.

***
As the wagon hit a particular large rut it lurched to one side and
Gallif fell out of the bank and onto the splinter filled floor. She
thought about getting back up but decided to just pull the torn
blanket and writing pillow onto the floor. She rolled on top of it and
jammed the pillow between her head in the side of the bunk. They
hit another rut, but it was shallow, and the entire wagon shifted off
balance until returned to flat road on the other side. She had learned
to just leave the candles unlit when they hit the rougher roads. The
candleholders were small and loose in the candles easily burned out.
There was some indirect light coming in from the air vents and her
eyes eventually adjusted to the dark.
It wasn't like she really had much to do anyway.
Though the prison compartment inside the wagon was wide
enough for her to lay down and stretch it was not tall enough for her
to stand. On one side was a small cabinet that was filled with dried
fruit, vegetables and something else that even her attachment to
nature could not recognize.
At least the floor gave her enough room to exercise and she did
so every day. She expected it could take three weeks to get to
Spring Field and she made sure that she was strong and healthy.
The wooden surface of the bunk had been Ragan and
uncomfortable. There were several next in the formation and
someone had even Gallif what could be a name into the woods near
the center. She had tried to read the letters, but the carving hand
had been so crude it made even her own handwriting look like
delicate art. She had carefully used the dripping wax from the
candles to fill as many of the gouges on the surface that she could,
and it had at least gotten easier to sleep.
Between bumps Gallif concentrated on where she was going
and what she would do when she got there. She knew how the
process of law went. She had seen it before when she was eight and
a group of Goblin Blood Lords attack force had killed the Fourth
Minister in the Council of Ministers. The entire family, and it seemed
like 1 million other families, had gone to Spring Field to hear the
outcome and, hopefully, witness the execution. They had been
incredibly lucky to get there early and were able to camp less than a
mile away from the gates. She remembered how the condemned the
goblins were brought out and, one by one, the Council of Ministers
had condemned them to death. It had to be unanimous and the
Third Minister himself had been the first to pass judgment before
they were hung.
That was where she would make her move. As the heartless
and wicked Third Minister stood to condemn her, she would deliver
eight words that would give her power. She would use that to
expose his crimes or, if nothing else, bring about his death.
 She tensed for a moment as that realization hit her and then
relaxed again. She had spent her life worshiping and defending the
Giant Lords and now she thought how, if she had to, she would kill
one without regret. It was a reminder of just how much things in
changed. It also reminded her just how wrong everything had been.
The carriage rocked again she rolled to one side nearly hitting
her head against the foot of the bunk. She steadied herself again
feeling tired and as the road steadied, she let her thoughts wander.
She had been relieved to see Rosario again and was glad she
appeared to be doing well. Rosario had been the best healer anyone
had ever seen, even the instructors had said that, and wondered if
working for the Giant Lords in Outbound had been a choice. She was
too good to be just an aide somewhere.
She also couldn't help but let herself think about Rosario's kiss.
About how warm and sweet her lips had been. All that time at the
school they had been together, and she had never thought it would
be like to kiss her. That was before the fall of the mountain, Gallif
thought. That was before she spent that night with Maura. Sweet
and wonderful Maura who had taken her heart and body. Who had
paid for it with her life.
"NO!" Gallif shouted at the top of her lungs and set up. "NO!
Do not let yourself feel like that," she spit into the air. "Concentrate!
Prepare! Know where you are headed," she scolded herself then
climbed up to sit on the bunk. The wagon hit a small brought in the
road, but it wasn't enough to cause much shaking.
"It's not my fault Maura died," she said in a voice ringing with
exhaustion. "It wasn't my fault. It wasn't my fault Luvin died," she
said that determinedly. "It wasn't my fault mom or dad died."
It was Jakobus, she told herself and shivered as if she'd been
stung by a bee. They died in a fire, she argued but another part of
her thoughts reminded her that the fire was started by Jakobus. She
didn't know that; she thought and slap the wall of the wagon out of
frustration.
"He didn't start that fire!" She said out loud and hit the wall
again. She just couldn't stop thinking about the fires that he had
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