Beyond the Nightmare Gate (18 page)

The tower wall is smooth and sheer and the climb extremely difficult. Your progress is further impeded by the illusory nature of the tower: crevices and projections that make up the strange designs that ornament the tower sometimes disappear from view just when you reach for a handhold. Eventually, you complete the climb and find yourself crouched upon a narrow ledge, halfway up the tower. Now you must attempt to haul up Tanith, still standing below.

Pick a number from the
Random Number Table
. If you have the Silver Charm of Jnana the Wise, add 1 to this number. If you possess the magic Talisman of the Shianti, add another 1 to this number.

If your total is now 0–4,
turn to 126
.

If your total is now 5–11,
turn to 172
.

You are soaring through a starlit sky, myriad tiny pinpoints of light shining above. Tanith clutches your arm and points below at a swirling gaseous incandescence, lit by sporadic bursts of violet lightning. Suddenly, a huge, webbed claw as tall as a house, with green, shining skin rises up out of the mists.

Add together your
COMBAT SKILL
and current
WILLPOWER
points.

If the total is 15 or more,
turn to 215
.

If the total is less than 15,
turn to 233
.

With considerable skill and speed you kill another two Elessin. Your attack costs you 3
WILLPOWER
points. Now only one Elessi remains. He places a small, silver pipe between his lips, and at once a terrible screaming fills your ears. You gasp with pain as the shriek of the pipe bores its way into your mind.

Add together your current
WILLPOWER
and
ENDURANCE
scores.

If the combined total is 20 or less,
turn to 271
.

If the total is more than 20,
turn to 284
.

The Chaos-master has placed you in an impossible situation, as was his intention. You are being forced to take your enemy with you on your quest, the success of which he seeks to prevent.

You and Tanith walk back to the Ethetron, the Jahksa close behind. With a smirk, he, too, squeezes into the little craft. As you rise into the air and steer towards the Moaning Mountain, you rack your brains for a way of ridding yourself of your enemy, standing at the far end of the craft and grinning maliciously at you.

There is little you can do, for your attention is devoted to operating the controls that keep the Ethetron in flight. Your nerves are constantly on edge; the Jahksa is in an ideal position to bring the craft down in the writhing sea below and you are plagued by the thought that the Jahksa can predict your every move.

A large bank of storm clouds ahead spells trouble. The Jahksa has been silent for a long time and you wonder if he has summoned an Elemental storm against you.

If you have the Magical Power of Prophecy and wish to use it,
turn to 24
.

If you have the Magical Power of Elementalism and wish to use it,
turn to 27
.

If you wish to attack the Jahksa,
turn to 148
.

If you do not wish to use your Magical Powers at this time, or if you do not possess either of the above,
turn to 165
.

‘Splendid! Splendid!’ says a cheerful voice. You spin round to see a little fat man, dressed head-to-toe in a black gown. He claps his pudgy hands together and smiles happily.

Illustration XIX
—Spittlethrift claps his pudgy hands together and smiles happily.

‘Who are you?’ you ask, still breathless.

‘I am Spittlethrift, scholar, professor, and master of the Crystal Tower. Yes, yes … a tower of learning, a veritable pillar of wisdom and knowledge, ha, ha, indeed!’ He takes a pair of wire-framed spectacles and places them on the end of his smudge of a nose. ‘You are not alone, I see.’ He squints at Tanith. ‘Most pleasing, enchanting … yes, yes, well done! You have passed the test; you will suffice.’ He turns towards the door and flutters his hands in an agitated manner. ‘Come now, you must meet the rest of us. Oh yes, delightful, engaging, so wonderfully entertaining!’

The excitable little man leaves the room, still chuckling to himself, and you follow close behind. Soon, he ushers you into a dim room, which is dusty and full of cobwebs. The air is stale and thick with tobacco smoke and seated opposite in a large armchair is a thin, straggling man, roughly Spittlethrift's height, with bulging, shadowy eyes. Reclining in various positions around the room are several others, all approximately Spittlethrift's height, and all similarly dressed.

‘Gentlemen, gentlemen, we have guests, brave adventurers who have solved the complications of our dark abode. May I introduce … ’

He casts a questioning glance in your direction and, hesitantly, you say, ‘The Wizard, Grey Star, and the lady, Tanith.’

‘Yes, yes, Grey Star and Tanith,’ Spittlethrift repeats, unnecessarily. He turns to face you. ‘And we are the Academicians. Welcome.’ He bows politely, as do the remaining scholars in the dingy room. After shaking hands with more than twenty Academicians, all with very curious names, you are led from the room to Spittlethrift's study. There he explains to you the cryptic nature of the Crystal Tower and the Academicians' purpose on the Daziarn Plane.

‘We are scholars, my dear boy,’ says Spittlethrift. ‘Inventors, scientists, inquisitors of the unknown. Here, on the Daziarn Plane, we have been able to turn our dreams, our ideas, our very thoughts into reality. It is the nature of this place. Time, space, the fundamental laws that govern existence in the material world — all can be adjusted, altered, ignored even! That is why we choose to live here. Others have changed their world within the Daziarn to suit their purpose. The demons and devils of good and evil reside here, creating their surroundings as best it suits them. There are gods and their ilk, and stranger forces beyond all imagining. Their thoughts, hopes, fears, and intentions weave the fabric of their realms. We do not seek to dominate or master the realm we inhabit — we live only within our tower. The Neverness — the unformed cloud that surrounds us — is the fabric of the Daziarn, unclaimed and untainted. It is this that we use for our … experiments.’

‘You mean the black holes that surround the tower?’ you enquire.

‘Yes, yes,’ Spittlethrift replies.

‘But why is the tower so dangerous?’

‘Ah!’ says Spittlethrift. ‘Let me assure you that it is not for our simple amusement, nor is it due to a malicious dislike for visitors, that our tower has been built to test the cunning, the wits, the wiles, and the bravery of those who dare to enter.’

‘And those who fail?’ asks Tanith, scornfully. ‘What happens to them?’

The little man clears his throat, uncomfortably, dismissing Tanith's question with a wave of his hand. ‘No matter of importance. You have succeeded; you've triumphed. You have proved yourselves capable of fulfilling a great quest.’

‘I am already upon a quest,’ you say. ‘I have no time for another.’

‘That is what you think, m'boy,’ says Spittlethrift. ‘But you've yet to understand. You are in the Neverness. The Neverness leads nowhere, borders on nowhere, is nowhere. Without our help you will never leave it. Embark upon our quest and we will grant you the means to travel freely about the Daziarn. Refuse, and you will remain here, perhaps forever.’

‘You threaten me?’ you say menacingly, rising to your feet.

‘No, no!’ splutters the scholar, hastily. ‘I merely state the facts. The Neverness is a wilderland between the realms of the Daziarn but it does not connect the realms as the mountains, seas, and roads in your world do. We, however, have found a way to travel the realms and can grant you the means to do so if you will perform a simple task for us.’ You say nothing, and Spittlethrift goes on. ‘There is a place, a city of glass, called the Singing City, inhabited by a race called the Elessin. We wish you to journey to the Singing City and steal the Threnogem from them. It is a stone, said to emit music and control the emotions of all who hear its melody. The Elessin have put it to evil use; we merely wish to explore its powers. You will be helping the enslaved and furthering our search for knowledge. Please will you help us, Grey Star?’

If you wish to help Spittlethrift and the Academicians,
turn to 210
.

If you feel you must refuse,
turn to 282
.

If you have the Magical Power of Prophecy and wish to use it,
turn to 299
.

The Chaos-birds circle overhead and Tanith chants over the Key as the birds form up to attack. As they hurtle towards you, the giant wolf that Tanith summons rears up to meet them, but it is not sufficiently strong to resist the charge of all the evil birds.

Turn to 83
.

You remove the Spider Key from its hook and grasp it tightly. A strange tingling sensation travels from your fingertips all the way up your arm. The Key shimmers and then transforms into a real spider the size of your palm. Tanith screams with fright and, before you have time to react, you feel a sharp, stinging pain. In seconds, the poison injected by the spider is coursing through your veins: lose 8
ENDURANCE
points.

If you are still alive, you must choose from the remaining Keys.
²⁶

If you choose the Eagle Key,
turn to 227
.

If you choose the Wolf Key,
turn to 235
.

If you choose the Serpent Key,
turn to 240
.

If you choose the Dragon Key,
turn to 277
.

Concentrating even harder, your temples throb with the effort of sustaining the trance state as you think through your adventures with Tanith in the lands of the Shadakine Empire. When, finally, you reach the confrontation with the shadow demon, the Kleasá, at the campfire south of Suhn, Tanith begins to murmur in choked sobs, ‘Could it be? Is it really you?’

If you wish to expend a further
WILLPOWER
point to continue your spell,
turn to 276
.

If you wish to give up,
turn to 265
.

The Elessi's suspicions have been aroused. He reaches out with his hand and speaks again in a harsh and authoritative tone. He is demanding something from you.

If you wish to show him the Glass Rod,
turn to 267
.

If you wish to show him the Parchment,
turn to 289
.

If you wish to show him the Gold Coin,
turn to 333
.

If you wish to show him the Silver Coin,
turn to 348
.

If you wish to show him the Copper Coin,
turn to 90
.

‘Looking for me?’ asks a contemptuous voice. You look up and see a hooded figure dressed in black, carrying a long, black staff. Slowly the hood is pulled away to reveal your own face staring back at you. ‘Greetings, brother,’ your own voice laughs, coldly. ‘We meet at last.’

Turn to 291
.