Hemlock And The Wizard Tower (Book 1) (12 page)

"
You must tell me this and you must be precise and candid or else I will not help you.  Where did you obtain the magical power to contact me tonight?
"
demanded Gwineval.

Safreon paused for just a moment
before he replied
.

"
I have a Wand of the Imperator
,"
said
Safreon with resignation.

A great hiss left Gwineval’s mouth then and his forked tongue flicked back and forth among his teeth.

"Truly
?
"
responded Gwineval in disbelief
, unable to believe that Safreon could actually possess such a legendary and powerful magical artifact
.

"Yes," r
esponded Safreon evenly.

"
Then I will help this Hemlock
.  But in exchange, you will allow me to fully investigate the powers of the Wand,"
Gwineval replied
,
his
pulse quickening at the anticipation of having access to the artifact
.

Hemlock
m
oved quickly down the hallway, staying
close to the inner wall of the passage. 
S
he hoped to find cover in the room
ahead
of her
.

She slowed to peer into the room as it came into view
, hugging the wall for cover
. 
The room
was dark in contrast to the even light of the hallway and the light granite wall beside which she now stood.

As her eyes adjusted, Hemlock could
see that t
he room was
quite unusual.
The
floor, walls and ceiling
were composed of square panels which were all black as a moonless night, and flickering stars were visible through decorative openings in them.  Mounted
in the center of
each of
these panels
was an extruded, black, cloth pillow.  The uniformity of the floor, walls and ceiling gave
th
e room a bizarre appearance;
it lacked any normal
directional
frame of reference save for a
dimly lit
exit on the opposite side
of where Hemlock stood.   The exit was only barely visible
through the intervening darkness.

Hemlock risked leaning farther
away from the wall
to survey
the entirety
of the room, noting for the first time a faint hum which
reverberated
in a pleasing, almost melodic tone.  She
concluded
that the room
was
empty.

She moved deftly, still crouched
,
and
halted immediately before the
line of darkness
on the floor which demarcated
the room from the hall.  Cautiously, she thrust her forearm through
the dark border and
into the room. 
She felt
an odd
tingling
sensation
in her arm,
but it was not disagreeable.

Deciding that she could not afford any further delay, she
moved decisively forward
.

As her ears crossed into the space
,
the hum became
louder–
but it was still pleasant
and relaxing
.

Hemlock
discovered
with great alarm, however, that she was
floating and
completely
unable to control
her motion.  She could move her body normally
,
but she had left the ground
.
Her
limbs thrashed back and forth easily
,
but without any noticeable influence on her
momentum
.

She was floating across the room but also gently up
wards
.  As she looked up
,
she suppressed a cry of surprise as she noted a
young w
izard in a fine grey robe with a red waist sash.  He was floating
near
the ceiling
and
facing down toward
her and
the floor.  His eyes were close
d and his mouth was slightly ajar; he was
obviously asleep.

Hemlock continued to move her legs in a
running
motion and tried to reach with her arms toward the hallway across from her
,
which was now slightly below her as her m
omentum carried her toward the ceiling
in the far end of the room.

She found
that
concepts like floor and ceiling
were
becoming
more
abstract as she gazed around her at the uniform
walls
of the space. 
She now understood why the small pillows were mounted in regular intervals along the walls of the room
.

Is this where the wizards sleep?
she wondered between fearful thoughts of the Wizard
above her
waking and raining down a fiery death upon her.

She
appreciated that the room
provided quite a soothing atmosphere–
but at the moment it was proving to be another hazard for her.

Something drew her eyes back to the Wizard.  She wanted to shy away from hi
m and not look in his direction
–
fearing that her attention might somehow wake him
.  She tried to concentrate on a meditation
that was helpful
when she was lying in wait and trying to avoid detection.  She imagin
ed
herself being made of stone.

But in this case, she
couldn’t help but notice
the striking features of the Wizard. 

His face was
possessed of an unusual angular beauty and
had a youthful appearance.  He had a light complexion with bold, dark hair. 
He was
tall and well
-
built and a visible arm
, protruding from his robe,
displayed an understated musculature with prominent veins.

There was a small glowing field surrounding him
, which looked like a yellowish, dim fire
. 

It gave the distinct impression of ema
nating from the Wizard’s form–
like a mist rising from a pond.

Hemlock blinked her eyes a few times, for the field around the Wizard was so faint that she wasn’t sure it was there.  Something about the field began to register with her magical affinity.

Suddenly, Hemlock had an idea, which interrupted her observation of the Wizard.

She grabbed
her
small grapp
l
ing hook
and
rope from under
neath
her cloak.  It was wrapped in a dirty cloth
,
which she removed.

Her removal of the cloth proved to be too hasty–
for
the cloth
floated off quite rapidly to her right and
was
immediately out of her reach.  Moments later
,
it came to rest on the wall far from her
,
but then seemed to catch a small current of air and began to float slowly upwards at an angle which
suggested
it might hit the sleeping Wizard.

Cursing under her breath, Hemlock grasped the grappling hook and considered the arched doorway
of the exit
.  There were
edges in the stonework of the archway,
and she hoped to catch one with the hook and pull herself down to
the doorway
.

Taking her
aim with a ba
ck and forth motion of her arm,
and noting with dismay the steady progress of the cloth
toward the slumbering Wizard,
she prepared to throw.

Her plan was to
throw through the doorway and
to quickly jerk the rope toward her
before the hook hit the floor in the hallway and made a loud noise that might wake the Wizard.
  She hoped to catch the lip of the upper arch with the hook in the process.

She threw and jerked t
he hook back as it entered the
space
beyond the room–
but the hook didn’t fully make purchase with the
stone
and flew back toward Hemlock,
making a shearing noise of iron on stone in the process, that caused Hemlock to gasp silently
. 

Fortunately, the pleasant and melodic humming
of the room seemed to drown
out the
noise
.

Hemlock caught the hook again
. She
noted that the cloth was
still
floating toward the Wizard and was about
one third
of the way there. 
Briefly, s
he considered trying to
impact
the cloth with the hook but her instinct to flee
the strange room was stronger
.

She
threw the hook again
toward the
archway
and this time when she jerked on the rope
,
the hook grabbed into the
stone
and Hemlock launched quite rapidly toward the exit.
  She continued to pull on the rope and soon reached the exit.

As she crossed into the light, she was dazzled by its brilliance.  She was pulled to the floor by her renewed weight, and s
he landed in the hallway
almost
silent
ly, in a
crouched
position.  An arm that she had outstretched caught the grappling hook before it clattered to the floor
. 

It was difficult
for her
to
see in the sudden brightness,
but the hall
before her
continued in
the
lazy
curve that she now thought
characteristic of the tower.  T
here were a few doors on either side
of this hall
.
  Driven
by the memory of the fluttering cloth and the sleeping Wizard
,
she
ignored them and
dashed down the hallway
, wanting to put as much distance between herself and the Wizard as possible
.

…

The Wizard known as
Falignus willed himself awake as a dirty cloth fluttered close to his face.  He had taken the precaution of
casting a light sleep spell on himself so that he might observe the intruder first hand without alarming her
. 
His pride and boldness had prevailed upon him in this decision, as an invisibility spell would have been the safer choice
. 

Judging by his impressions of the intruder (gleaned under the slightly imprecise effects of
the
spell of sleeping awareness)
,
he had been
lucky that the situation hadn’t gotten complicated
.  She had
conducted herself with a cool efficiency, and if he wasn’t mistaken, she had also seemed to notice something unusual about his sleep
.

Her attire had been
modest
but her motions and mannerisms
had
indicated great ability
that had been
molded by superior training.  She was startlingly young and very beautiful. 

Falignus felt
that
the
wizards
had gr
own complacent about security,
yet the
undeniable
fact remained that the girl had negotiated tremendous challenges to get to this point
in her intrusion
.

He wanted to interact with her rather than passively observe her.

I desire her.  This intruder could truly be dangerous to me.

…

Hemlock moved down the hallway
under the glaring light
.  She paused beside
some
doors
,
listening,
and
then
moved on when she heard nothing that would signal danger.

She moved more recklessly than before and fought to control her growing alarm at her situation.  Her thoughts
returned to the mystery of her name being the answer to the riddle on the stair, the threat of the discovery of the drunken bust, and
the dirty cloth
and
the
slumbering
Wizard in the weightless room behind her.  It took a
strong
effort to control her anxieties and maintain her focus.

Before her was another odd room.  A strong smell of grease emanated from it and great creaks and groans could be heard
–
the sounds of iron under tremendous load.

The room
stretched for several floors above her,
was evenly lit
,
and
was
bordered in plain granite.  Suspended
from large chains
we
re several great iron spheres, as big around as a man. They were
adorned with strange runic markings and odd numbered gradations.  Many of the spheres moved in circular motions parallel to the floor – straining the great chains from which they were suspended.