Read The Seventh Mountain Online

Authors: Gene Curtis

Tags: #fantasy, #harry potter, #christian, #sf, #christian contemporary fiction, #christian fantasy fiction, #fantasy adventure swords and sorcery, #christian fairy tale, #hp

The Seventh Mountain (11 page)

 

Let’s Go Shopping

 

Friends are…

 

 

Mark and Nick walked back into the mountain.
This time, Mark noticed that the decor was just like in his dream.
Marble walls and floors, burnished wooden beams forming a diamond
pattern high above with chandeliers hanging from every
intersection. He thought about asking Nick if he had had dreams
about this place and then decided not to.

The short passage terminated into a long
promenade that went to the left and to the right. Groups of people
were meandering here and there. Different stores and shops lined
the public walk. This was a shopping mall. There was even a marquee
at the end of the short hall showing all the stores.

The marquee was a megalithic looking, round,
lighted sign, set atop a pedestal, which was on a short, circular,
stage-like platform. It showed a map of the first level of the
mountain with small, numbered, color-coded boxes indicating the
location of shops. The numbered, color-coded register showed well
over a thousand stores and shops, each specializing in one
particular line of goods. There were bakeries, confectionaries,
drink shops, tack shops, clothing stores, movie theaters,
electronic and technical shops and a wide variety of shops for just
about anything that you could think of. The Oasis wasn’t, by far,
the only place to find something to eat. It was just the
closest.

The Oasis was the first place to the right
and it was huge. It could easily seat three thousand people. There
were a dozen rows of dining tables, each in a different color. No
one was sitting at the tables. At the farthest end from the door
was a stage with a row of tables on it.

High-back dining booths lined the walls,
more than a hundred on either side. Most of the booths were
occupied. Mark and Nick chose one of the unoccupied booths. Mark
leaned the staff against the wall and slid in behind it. Nick sat
on the opposite side.

There were four large books on the booth’s
black marble table and four sets of silverware wrapped in gray
napkins at the four places. Mark examined one of the large books.
It was a menu the size of a large phone book. Countries were listed
alphabetically and had their own sections. Foods were listed
according to category.

Mark said, “They must have a huge kitchen
here. Tim said that you could get anything you want to eat or drink
from any place in the world in here.”

Nick said, “We haven’t got our signets yet.
You have to have your signet registered at The Good Steward so that
they know which account to charge. You can’t buy anything without
your signet.” Nick sounded as if everyone should know this.

“Tim told me that you could sign for stuff
until you got your signet. He didn’t say anything about needing any
spending money or anything.”

“My brother, Ivan, told me that you need a
signet for everything in school. He says that you can’t even get a
toothpick without your signet.”

A voice interrupted from the end of the
table. The young waitress was tall and slender. Bright green eyes
greeted Mark and Nick when they looked up at her. Her red hair was
done up in a bun. She was wearing a white blouse and black slacks.
Her nametag read, “Shana O’Riley.”

“Freshmen are the exception to that rule
during orientation. They can sign or use a signet for orientation
only. You guys ready to order?”

Mark said, “Lemonade, please, and chicken
fried rice.”

Shana asked, “Which country?”

Mark thought for a moment and said,
“China.”

“China is closed right now. It’s the middle
of the night there. You have to order from a country that is
awake.” Shana used her pencil and pointed to the cover of one of
the menus. The cover had a map of the world and the different time
zones.

Mark said, “Sorry, I don’t know which time
zone we’re in.”

“Number eight.”

“Well then, how about the U.S.” Mark was
confident that this would be available.

“Each state in the U.S. is considered a
separate country for food purchases.”

“California.”

Nick had been following this. “I’ll have
iced tea from Georgia and a club sandwich.”

Shana chuckled a little and asked, “The
state or the country?”

Nick blushed. “The state please.”

She wrote on her order book. “I’ll be back
in a few minutes.”

Before she left, Mark asked her, “Why do you
have to order from a country that is awake?”

“Because there aren’t any shops open if
everyone is asleep.”

“You mean you actually have to go there to
get what we order?”

“Well, yeah, one of us does. You really are
new to this aren’t you?”

Mark said, “I guess it shows.”

Shana smiled, turned and walked away.

Nick said, “They remanifest, like Tim did
when he brought you here. They can go anywhere they have ever been
before. It’s really neat. If you concentrate really hard on
something that you have seen, then you just automatically go to
wherever that thing is. Remanifestation is something that all
seniors learn. Ivan says that he heard that it’s hard to
learn.”

“I don’t mean to sound stupid or anything,
but what is a Magi?”

“You’re joking, right?”

“No. All of this is very strange to me. I’ve
never seen or heard of anything like it.”

“How did you get to be a Magi then? I mean,
my mother and father were Magi and so were their parents. Their
parents were too. Anyone can become a Magi, but you have to be
recommended by a Magi. My parents recommended me.”

“I don’t know how I became a Magi. Tim says
that I was chosen. He didn’t say by who or why. He said my great,
great, great, great grandfather was a Magi.”

“You were chosen?”

“Yeah, that’s what Tim said.”

“Wow! That’s awesome! Do you know what your
destiny is?”

“I don’t have a clue. It probably has
something to do with this staff.”

“Can I see it?”

“Sorry, I’m supposed to guard it, I
think.”

“Guard it from what?”

“I don’t know. I guess I’ll find out.”

“That’s cool.”

“Okay. I still don’t know what a Magi
is.”

“Well, Magi are secret warriors, kind of.
They are not magicians or sorcerers or anything like that. Trained
Magi blend mind, body and spirit to help people and to fight when
needed. Magi have special powers because of that.”

“Do you mean secret warriors like
ninja?”

“You are really new to this. No. Magi have
special powers and ninja don’t.”

“You mean powers like remanifesting.”

“Yeah, and a lot more too.”

“A lot more, like what?”

“Spirit sight, dream casting, healing
powers, and all kinds of stuff. I don’t even know it all.”

“I guess that I’ll catch on to that,
too.”

“I guess so.”

Mark and Nick finished lunch and left The
Oasis. They decided to go and examine the signet rings. The shop
wasn’t hard to find.

They walked in to Diefenderfer’s Signet
Shop. It was unlike any other jewelry store that Mark had ever seen
in shopping malls. Glass display cases were everywhere, only there
weren’t any tops on them. Everything was out in the open.

The shopkeeper was behind the glass counter
with his back toward them. His sleeveless black tunic revealed
several thick scars on his arms and shoulders. He also had a thick
scar that crossed the middle of his bald head from the base of his
skull to the top of his head.

“Young Mister Young… and Young Mister
Poparov… welcome.” The shopkeeper didn’t turn to face them.

The boys looked at each other. Mark said,
“How did you know who we are?”

“I am… AlHufus Diefenderfer… I am… sirs… an
oracle.” With that he turned and faced the boys. Both boys could
see that he was old and quite blind. His eyes were black and
lifeless. The scar on his head continued to the middle of his
forehead.

“You may think me blind… but I assure you…
good sirs… I am not. I have not… the use… of my eyes, but… I see
quite well. Now… how may I help you?” His speech seemed odd only in
the fact that he paused between phrases. Everything else about it
was quite normal, even if somewhat disconcerting.

Mark started to speak but Mr. Diefenderfer
cut him off. “So… you wish to… examine my wares. You are aware… are
you not… that you cannot… purchase anything… without your
counselor’s approval?”

He paused again and then answered another
question that Mark was about to ask. “Tim… is your counselor. He
will be… taking his group… around to the different shops… starting
tomorrow. I expect… that this will be… one of the first places…
that your group… will visit. If you find… a ring… that you
particularly like… then I will… set it aside… until you visit me…
again. Go ahead… look around.”

There were many display cases in the shop,
arranged like library shelves that formed aisles. Each case was
filled with small cubbies, each containing an individual ring and a
number etched and colored on the upper edge of the cubby.

Mark and Nick looked at many of the rings.
They both picked out signet rings that they liked. Mark’s ring had
a crest with a lion standing on a large rock. Nick chose a simple
design of crossed sabers. Mr. Diefenderfer put them into a drawer
with several other rings.

The boys turned to leave when Mr.
Diefenderfer said, “Swords are… best selected… when you know… your
own skill… and style. Learning the sword… is best done… with a
sword… that you don’t mind… destroying. Wisdom comes… with
prudence… and patience.”

“How did you know we were going to look at
swords next?” Mark was again surprised my Mr. Diefenderfer’s
clairvoyance.

“I have told you… good sir… I am AlHufus
Diefenderfer… an oracle. But… it does not take… an oracle… to
foretell… what two freshmen boys… on opening day… of orientation…
are apt… to be wishing… to examine.”

Mark and Nick walked to Vanmie Swords. There
were a lot of tables in the store, each with individual styles of
swords on them.

The proprietor was a short lady. She was not
any taller than Mark himself. Her long, single braid of black hair
reached to her ankles. She was dressed in a black tunic trimmed in
silver. Her eyes were luminous brown. She turned and greeted them
as they entered.

“Hello gentlemen.” Her voice was soft and
gentle, almost a whisper. “I am Joramina Vanmie. How may I help
you?”

“We’re just looking, ma’am.” Mark looked
past her, to the case behind. Row upon row of trophies adorned the
shelves. Each trophy sported a figure with sword raised high.

Ms. Vanmie smiled and stepped aside.

“Are all those trophies yours?”

“Yes sir. I’ve taken first place, for the
last fifty years, in single combat.”

“Wow!” That was remarkable because of her
size and the fact that she looked hardly older than his mom, who
was twenty-nine, according to her.

Mark’s attention was drawn to an
interruption in the back of the shop. He turned and saw Ralph
Lawrence waving a sword in the air.

“I bet you could really cut someone’s head
off with this one!”

Ricky Barns brandished a sword at Ralph. “On
guard!”

Ralph swung his sword against Ricky’s.
CLANG!

Ms. Vanmie raised her voice ever so
slightly. “If you damage it, you buy it.”

Ralph and Ricky stopped, shrugged at each
other and put the swords down. They walked past Mark and Nick on
their way out. Ralph muttered, “I’ll see you in combat class.” He
butted Mark with his bulging belly.

Mark scowled and shook his head.
“Whatever.”

“You say you’re just looking. Help
yourselves.”

“Yes ma’am. Ma’am… which swords are good for
learning with?”

“Have you had any training?”

Both boys answered, “No ma’am.”

She picked up a tape measure and held her
arms out to the side. “I need to measure you.”

Mark laid the staff against his shoulder and
held out his arms. Nick held out his arms too. Ms. Vanmie measured
their arms, legs, and waist.

“I’m guessing that neither of you know your
style. And I think that it is safe to say that your skill level is
zero. What I am going to do next is to test your reflexive style of
defense. Follow me into the back room.” Nick followed her. Mark
grabbed up his staff and followed Nick.

Both boys walked through the door and Ms.
Vanmie immediately said, “I’m going to hit you with this bamboo
pole. Defend yourself.”

Mark heard the swoosh and ducked when the
bamboo pole passed over his head. Both boys jumped when the pole
passed low at their ankles. Mark flinched sideways when the pole
came down straight for his head. Instinctively, holding the staff
with both hands, he parried the would-be-blow to the side with his
staff. Nick used that instant to grab a wooden baton from the table
in front of him. There were tables all over, some with old swords,
some with wooden batons shaped like swords. He brandished the baton
in front of himself, awaiting the next blow. It never came.

Ms. Vanmie twirled her pole in front of her,
then over her head, then behind her, and brought it to rest at her
side.

“Mark, you have two styles. One is suited to
the gladius, a short sword. The other is suited to the katana.
Which do you wish to learn first?”

“I know what a short sword is, I think. What
is a katana?”

“A katana is an oriental design. It is a
thin, lightly curved blade with a slanted tip. In your case, the
best length is thirty-four inches.”

She pulled a sheathed katana from a group of
swords on a nearby table and tossed it to him. It had the number
thirty-four stamped on the hilt.

“The short sword is in the ‘grunt and clunk’
class of swords. It has a wide, double-edged blade with a point.
Both have their strengths and weaknesses. Thirty-four inches is
also the best length for you on this sword.” She pulled a sheathed
short sword from another table and tossed it to him.

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