Hemlock And The Wizard Tower (Book 1) (20 page)

Merit managed to shudder, and the spider crawled down Hemlock’s leg, and then over to Merit.  It began to wind its way up his body.

Hemlock ceased to struggle against the
force
and began to attune her mind to the
magic of the spider
.
 
She sensed
a childlike
, almost playful
magic mixed with an unquenchable yearning to feed
.
 
But she also felt some overarching power and dominance that had a palpable, fear-driven grip on the simpler spirit.
Hemlock thought that she knew what it was in that dominant power: witch magic.
 

This was the first time that Hemlock had felt their power.
 
Their magic was
partially
preservative but corrupting, as if it entangled souls with a promise of
a
retention of a mortal existence, but instead delivered a cruel and corrupting mockery of that existence.
 
Hemlock shuddered once again for the dweomer, though weak, spoke of a magic no less fell
and evil
th
an that of the Seventh C
ircle
wizards
and their Emerald Stair
.
 

It was now clear to Hemlock that t
he Witches
possessed magic power that c
ould be just as dangerous as any Wizard
.

Before Hemlock could weigh the impact of that realization,
her attention
returned to the urgency of
her
current situation.
 
Merit appeared to have damaged himself in the process of trying to escape.
 
His frantic struggling
had
led to a number of oil and steam leaks which seemed to have sapped his strength.
 
He stood in silence now with the exception of the hissing steam that burst forth from a
handful of burst copper pipes.

The s
pider
had returned to Hemlock’s feet and now
continued a
nother
slow and purposeful ascent,
this time projecting strands of magic between her
and Merit
as it rose
.
 
Slowly, methodically, Hemlock felt the grip of the magic tighten
again
.
 
She continued to focus her mind on the
nature of the
power of the magic.
 
She
was surprised to detect
a verbal component to the spell that bound the
childlike spirit
and the arachnid.
 
It was a series of words sung to a tune. 
Hemlock felt sure, in that instant, that if she could match the tone of a portion of that song, but in a certain harmonic offset, that she would be able to free herself.

With a tremendous focus of will
,
Hemlock was able to
muster the energy to
hum three notes in succession.
 
She sensed
,
rather than heard
,
a great cacophony of sounds then,
which she could only compare to the sound of a
lattice of glass breaking
into shards.

She was able to move again and the Spider fell to the ground on its back, its legs curling in death.
Hemlock disassociated her senses from the magic at once, not caring to be attuned to the expiration of the strange
creature.
 
The s
pider shrunk markedly and
writhed on
the ground.
 
Then it
simply disintegrated with a soun
d like the rustling of leaves.  Hemlock concluded that it
apparently had no mortal form without the formative
witch magic to sustain it. She
noted the vo
ices of Gwineval and Saf
reon calling for her in the distance.
 
The entire encounter had taken only a few moments, but evidently they were being cautious
and searching for her
.
 

She looked down at Merit and sighed.
 
He was still leaking oil
,
but at least the steam had subsided and the leaks looked to be slowing.
 
Stil
l, she had no knowledge of the physiology of the mechanical gnome
or
any idea of
the
extent
to which
these injuries might have harmed
the automaton
.
 
Merit was still immobile
and unresponsive
.

Hemlock called to Gwineval and Safreon as they crested a grassy hill about fifty yards away.
 
She motioned to them and they approached in response in a brisk jog.

Gwineval, moving faster than Safreon, reached the scene first and took stock of the situation before speaking.
 
Safreon arrived soon after and Hemlock
quickly
related
the tale of the attack of the s
pider.
 
She was vague about the details of her escape from the magic and Gwineval seemed to
take
note
of
this part of
her
tale.
 
He did
not press the matter, however.

"How serious ar
e his injuries?" Hemlock asked.

"I am unsure without some time to perform various small
spells to diagnose the problem,"
 
responded Gwineval, his tongue moving to and fro as he
seemed to still be in thought.

"The problem is that we do not have the luxury of time.
 
We must take advantage of this day to try and locate some Tanna
Varran
s and seek shel
ter with them." stated Safreon.

"Agreed
,
" respon
ded Gwineval.
 
"I will carry the automaton," he continued.

"Really?" asked Hemlock with a note of mild surprise. "I don't want to leave
him
, but won't that slo
w us down?" she asked Gwineval.

"He might have information that could harm us if he fe
ll into the wrong hands, I think," stated Gwineval.

"Perhaps,
" responded Hemlock.
 
"We can take turns carrying him
,
if you like.
 
I am glad that we are able to do this for him."

"Let's go.
 
We should head north.
 
We need to climb that hill over there.
 
Safreon and I agree.
 
It's our best chance to locate a Tanna
Varran
town"
 
said Gwineval
,
as he pointed to the North
at
a hilltop that lay some miles distan
t.
It
rose to a considerable
,
but not insurmountable height.
 
Broken patches of trees were visible
along its height
and there a
ppeared to be varying terrain;
some gentle slopes
were
interspersed with ridge lines that
looked difficult to navigate.

"Wait, don't the w
itches and evil spirits reside on the hilltops?" Hemlock asked, assaying their surroundings as she consider
ed what threat that might pose.

"Yes, they often do
,
" responded Safreon.
 
"But in this case, we need to risk that in order to locate a Tanna
Varran town
.
 
Hopefully we'll find one without having to climb
all the way to the top of the h
ill.
 
But if we don't locate the Tanna
Varran
s today, we will be under siege by worse spirits than what you just faced
,
come nightf
all.
 
Far worse," he cautioned.

"I concur then.
 
Let's be off
,
"
 
Hemlock
replied.  She
inspected Gwineval's physique.
 
"Can you run long distances?" she asked.

"Yes, provided that we can find regular supplies of water
,
I will be able to maintain a greater speed than you or Safreon would be able to without magical
enhancement," Gwineval replied.

Hemlock replied with a skeptical look, but she gestured for Gwineval to lead the way.
 
Although Safreon had a large pot belly, she knew that he could run like a horse when pressed.

One
evening Hemlock a
nd Safreon sat at the top of a c
hapel tower looking down on the Warrens.
 
Hemlock was young, having only recently t
aken to working with Safreon.
 

"What can you tell me of the City, Safreon?" Hemlock asked with the suddenness that ofte
n accompanies youthful inquiry.

Safreon regarded her
warmly and began to speak.

"Our
City
, San Cyra,
is old but not ancient.
 
We know that it was built some ten generations ago by a
great Wizard and a
group of outcasts who arr
ived here from various places."

"From beyond the
veil
?" Hemlock asked with a tone o
f reverence.

"Yes, indeed.
 
At that time, people must have
begun
to appreciat
e the properties of the City:
how the lands surrounding it constantly change.
 
Those who stayed here either did so to escape their previous circumstances
and start a new life,
or they wandered into this land in ignorance and became stranded here when the la
nds shifted," responded Safreon.

"
It is easy to get stranded here, isn’t it?" asked Hemlock.

"Yes, b
ecause
tradition
holds that our City is unique in
its property of shifting through different lands.
Although who can say for sure?"
 
Safreon
mused.

Hemlock looked at the streets below their vantage point, over
toward
an
open square where several neighborhoods met.
In that spot
stood the largest marketplace in the Warrens.
 
It consisted of acres of makeshift stalls where vendors peddled wares as commonplace as the foodstuffs grown
on
the farms which surrounded the
C
ity
,
and as exotic as a number of hairless felines that had arrived yesterday with some Merchants. 

Hemlock and Safreon monitored the busy market, keeping an
eye out for criminal activity,
which was all too commonplace.

"To the East, in the mountains, the delvers mine Ore and gems from the earth.
 
This area has remained near the City for our entire history, and these materials were used to build our City.
 
The areas beyond the Mountains are ever changing
, marked by a hazy veil that exists at the border between our lands and the outside, changing lands.
 
It is said that if you look e
astward
through the veil from the m
ountain tops
,
that you cannot help but daydream
.  A
nd when you take notice of the view, after a time, you'll se
e that it has changed;
but you will never see the change occurring.
 
It is
a
very strange
phenomenon,
and
is
un
der study by the Wizard Guild."

Safreon pointed north toward a great desert plain.
 
"That Desert has bordered the Mountains for as long as we can recall as well.
 
Yet people disappear in it if they venture too far.
 
Stay away from it, Hemlock.
 
There is n
o reason to go there."

"To the south lie the
fertile plains where most of our food is grown and tended.
 
It is said that these lands are safe out to a distance that can be seen from the top of the Wizard
’
s Guild Tower, but no further.
 
Beyond that the lands change
with time," Safreon continued.

"
To the west
lie the Witch Crags.
 
This region, alone, extends for many miles beyond the horizon, yet does not change.
 
This is the source of the Oberon powder that fuels our magical powers in the City.
 
Despite this region
’
s
stability,
it is a dangerous area
,
populated by monstrous creatures.
 
Fortunately these creatures seem to be confined to the Witch Crags and do not attack the City
,
"
 
Safreon explained with a cautionary tone.

"
How are they confined?
"
Hemlock queried.

Safreon mused for a moment and then answered
,
"
It seems that these creatures are bound to the Witch Crags.  There are evil forces that hold sway there, and the creatures are bound to these forces.
"

"What of these
forces?
"
Hemlock asked, turning to him.

"
I’ll say no more now.  Suffice it to say that we are lucky that their power seems to be held in check.  I suspect that the
wizards
are involved.
But none seem to know for sure,"
Safreon answered, making it clear that he had no intention to elaborate.

Hemlock glanced at him and he did not meet her glance.  She could see that his jaw was set as he lo
oked down into the Marketplace.

"What happens to people that travel beyond the
veil
and cannot return to the City?" Hemlock
asked.

"None can say for sure," Safreon
responded
,
"but judging by the accounts of those who make the jour
ney out of the City and return, these people enter
lands where the surroundings do not change.
"

"Don't you want to find out?
 
You know, wh
at lies beyond?" asked Hemlock.

"I am curious, as are
many
here,
I think.
 
But wou
ld you give up your life here and everything you know
to find out?
 
Most are
unwilling to do that–as am I."

"I'm not willing to do it now, but I feel like there may come a time when
I am ready to make the journey–perhaps even to try and find my home again,
" Hemlock responded slowly, her eyes downcast
as she appraised herself.

Safreon responded with a
casual
grunt that
seemed to Hemlock to belie
the gravity with which he seemed to regard that remark.

Hemlock decided to press her luck and continue her questions.  It wasn’t often that Safreon obliged her
questioning
this freely
,
and she intended to take full advantage of it.

"
Tell me of the
Elite part of the City
.  Why
do they look down on us?" s
he asked.

Safreon again considered her question for a time before responding.
"
Throughout history, people have organized themselves into functional groups in order to allow them to act in concert.  The Elites to the east of the Wizard Tower lead lives of contemplation and ease.  They have time for drafting laws
and holding courts of justice–
things that are hard to do when you have to break your back in the fields every day.  Yet they are important for our society.
"

He paused again and then
he continued.

"
The
Elites
manage the economy and implement the laws and policies set forth by the
Senate
.  This structure is something of an amalgamation
of
the ways of our collective forbears
from across the veil
.
"

"
The
other two thirds of the City, our Warrens,
are where the workers live.  I believe that we have lost something along the way
,
or
that
part of the philosophy of our civic traditions has been lost.  I believe that in an ideal society that the higher tiers recognize that they exist to serve the lower.  Therefore, the Elites
should
really
be
the servants of the Workers and not the other way around.  That concept of
selfless service has been lost,"
Safreon concluded, shaking his head mildly
in
disapproval.

Hemlock looked
up
into the afternoon sky and gazed at the clouds
,
as her mind consumed the information that Safreon had
told
her.
 
She wasn't sure what it meant to her
or
whether it really meant anything to her at all.
 
She was consumed by a restless energy and scanned the street below.
 

A motion caught her eye
.
 
It stood out
and
was incongruent with the rest of the scene below.
 
A
woman who Hemlock assumed was an Elite
Citizen, judging by the c
leanliness and color in her garb, had been boldly
walking
alone in the market.  Hemlock had seen t
he Citizen
bolt
upright suddenly and a
black robed
figure had
fallen in smoothly behind her.  Hemlock recognized the gait of the robed figure as the
swift
and smooth
motion of a practiced thief
at work.

Safreon let out a soft whistle of surprise.
 
He had seen it too.

The w
oman began
to move listlessly to the n
orth
with
the
robed
figure
staying close behind her
. 

Hemlock tensed as she prepared to descend to street level in pursuit.
 
She felt Safreon's grasp on her arm
, restraining her.

"Wait.
 
I
want to follow this one back to his hideout.
 
This one is
experienced;
did you see how subtle the take was?
 
An average
person wouldn't have
noticed
that t
hief do anything
unusual
even
if they'd
been standing right alongside,
" Safreon intoned in a low voice filled with some measure of respect.
 
He
then
motioned to an adjacent roof which she leapt to and he
then
gained more clumsily
by rolling over a ledge, a few moments after her.

Together, they watched the woman and the man moving north toward a shanty section of the Warrens.
 
The Thief
moved slowly and blended well with the crowd
, managing to stay close to her without looking suspicious
.
The Elite
drew the normal attention that a Citizen usually did in the Warrens.
 
Hemlock and Safreon had no trouble identifying her
as she moved.

As
Hemlock and Safreon shuffled
along the rooftop in a relaxed pursu
it, Safreon glanced at Hemlock.

"So why did you do it?
 
Why did you
agree to work with me?" he asked with a casual air.

Hemlock glanced back at him.
 

She c
onsidered her answer carefully.

"I wa
nt to change things," she said.

"What do you want to change?"
He
motion
ed
her toward a wooden ladder that protruded above the roof
line to the n
orth.
 
T
hey had reached the end of the
roof on this
block and their targets
continued to move n
orth.
 
They would have to continue the pursuit at ground level
.