Hemlock And The Wizard Tower (Book 1) (4 page)

Sound!
she warned herself, as the door opened. 

She heard new metallic sounds, clearly but faintly, amidst the thunderous metallic churning of the strokes of the piston; there were clattering footsteps heard on the flagstone floor near the door.

She tumbled into a somersault and landed behind a small workbench near the spiral stair. After a few moments, she peeked out beside the bench.

A small clockwork gnome, who was dressed in a bright red, conical, velvet hat, clattered and sputtered over to the bench and placed a silver tray on it, upon which rested a large glass jar containing a spidery form suspended in a milky fluid. The Gnome’s body was composed of brass and iron parts: bolts, gears, pistons, and welds.

The gnome soon made its way toward the staircase. It did not seem aware of her presence; as it reached the stair, she heard the metalwork of the steps groan slightly under the weight of the automaton when it began to ascend.

Suddenly there was a metal scraping sound and the climbing stopped. Hemlock risked a glance toward the stair and she saw the lowest of the metallic hands had opened, and was now gesturing as if motioning the Gnome to stop. A small mouth formed in the palm of the hand, and Hemlock had to contain a gasp.

"What is the form of the concept when unseen?" cried that small mouth, with the strangest voice she had ever heard. It sounded like what she imagined a talking mouse or rat would sound like, yet it was melodious just the same.

"A dream," responded a voice–she realized it must be the Gnome’s voice–somehow quite understandable despite being composed of a fast series of horns, grinds, squeaks, metallic shivers and dull groans.

The sounds of climbing resumed.

Hemlock heard another odd scraping sound. Again the climbing stopped.

"What is the nature of the spotted alligator?" cried the strange little voice, challengingly.

"To rend and consume," replied the Gnome.

Hemlock heard the odd pattern of challenge and response continue at the next highest point on the stair.

"How high flies the Lagma when his wings are mired in magma?"

"The gift of flight he’s never known."

The G
nome had almost reached the next floor as another question was asked. But Hemlock could not make out the phrasing of the question. She glided along the floor, reaching the foot of the stair, but she was unable to
hear
the answer in her concentration on executing the quick motion without making any noise.

She cursed to herself as she took stock of the fact she had missed both the final riddle and its answer.
S
ince the first three answers had been phrases, she imagined she stood little chance of getting that final answer right on her own.

She wondered if she could leap off the stairs or even climb up beneath them. She walked toward the underside to investigate. As she moved closer, an invisible force gently pushed her backwards. She surged forward then and was thrown back several feet, landing on her backside. Apparently, she mused, the wizards had thought of that.  

Again she reflected on her options. Since the Gnome seemed to be a machine, there seemed to her to be a good chance that he was automated and might return. But she wondered how long that would take.

Every moment of delay increase
d
the chances the wizards w
ould
notice the damage to the Gargoyles and Portcullis.

She knew she was relying on the wizard’s arrogance and overconfidence. She wondered whether whatever magical protections they might have had been allowed to weaken over the years of seeming invulnerability.
Or, she considered, maybe there were alarms going off somewhere, but no one had noticed them–yet.

Somewhere
on the
seventh
floor
of the Wizard Tower,
a wizard stood in a small
,
dark room
amidst
a din of shrieks. 
His long robe did not conceal the fact that he was relatively young and of vigorous appearance, having a slight but muscular build with dark hair and sculpted facial features.  He carried himself with an energetic bearing, which also communicated an unmistakable hint of power.

The Wizard stood before a stone shelf, which was the only feature of the small closet-like chamber.  On the shelf, a row of small, metallic skulls were arrayed in a line; they had been cast in silver and polished to a shine.  Below each skull was a small wooden stand with a placard which bore the name of a location.  Two of the skulls were emitting a loud shriek and their eye sockets
were
glowing red,
bathing
the room in a
crimson
light.
  Their placards bore the words "Front Gate," and "Service, First Floor."

The Wizard bristled at
a
lack of discipline
that he attributed to his fellow wizards
. 
He had pushed for more rigorous security measures, but the other wizards had been more intent on their research than anything else; they had not wanted to be disturbed by false alarms or guard duty.  Additionally, they had argued that the Tower was well–nigh impregnable.

The Wizard judged that the current policy of r
elying on automaton
s
to check the safety of the Tower’s defenses was re
ckless–especially given the fact that he knew that the
automaton
s only checked for alarms in this
room
once
every hour.

Despite his anger at the fact that someone had apparently infiltrated the Tower, the Wizard’s thoughts were also laced with a raw feeling of excitement.

"Who has entered the Tower?  Is it the one that my visions have suggested will come?" were the questions that raced through his mind over and over again, inspiring an intense feeling of curiosity in him which overshadowed his other feelings of anger, fear and concern.

The Wizard concentrated for a moment
,
and then he extended his hand past each of the
clamoring
skulls.  As he did so, their eyes went dark and their shrieking subsided.  When all was quiet again,
the Wizard
paused and his body tensed, as if he was confronted by a sudden doubt or fear.  But his body gradually relaxed over the course of several seconds
, and
then he
strode out of the room
with a confident gait
.

…

With
a final glance
at
her surroundings,
Hemlock
began to
methodically climb the circular staircase
. 
She sensed in it a magical force kept in check by a
delicate control
.  The
nature of the
force was pure aggression surrounded by
and contained by
a boundary of
civility
.

As she reached the first
small
hand
mounted on the stair railing, she heard the
strange metallic grating sound
,
as the fist abruptly began to glow and then opened
up into a restrictive gesture, with
fingers extended and palm jutting forward. 

This hand was cast
with a
furry
appearance–
like that of
a
hairy ape.  The hairs were rendered with some detail in the iron and as she halted and turned her attention to the hand
,
she saw a small fanged mouth appear in the middle of the palm. 

The little mouth spoke the first riddle, which she answered
with the same response that she had heard the Gnome use, using
an audible but very hushed
voice
.  She figured
that
an audible answer was probably a requirement
of the process
. 
After she spoke the answer,
the hand
clenched back into
a fist
,
and
she took
this
as a signal that she could
continue to climb
.

The secon
d hand was a human looking hand.  T
he same sequence of events occurred
as had with the first hand
, and she answered the second riddle
correctly
.

Hemlock
desperately hoped
that
no one was
in the room above and able to hear her speaking the answers to the riddles
.
  But she couldn’t figure out any alternative to proceeding as she had seen the Gnome do before her.

As she
resumed climbing
and approached the third hand
,
she struggled to catch a glimpse of the upper room
in order to try to see if anyone was observing her
.  Despite her stealth
,
her footfalls were making a faint metallic clunk on the stairs
as she climbed, and this concerned her greatly
.  Beyond that
sound
and the pulsating rhythm of the machine
,
she didn’t hear anything
else–including
from
the upper room.  But she did notice another light, orange hued and otherworldly,
which
seemed to pulsate in time with the rhythm of the machine
below,
emanat
ing
from the room above. 

She reached the third riddle
.  Again, she cringed as the strange voice
from the third metallic hand
asked the question and she tried to provide the answer as silently as possible.
  With that done, she
reluctantly
started her
climb
up toward the
fourth hand, and her adrenaline surged in anticipation of whether she would be able to think quickly enough to figure out the answer
.

…

She and
Safreon
had been relaxing
one day in
their
favorite tavern
, when he had unexpectedly started telling her about the wizards.

"The ale has loosened my tongue…  You’ve been wanting to know about the history of the wizards.  Now I’ll tell you, but be patient, for it’s not a short tale."

"
Every
one has heard the tale of the B
ridge of
Ninety-Nine
Tears and kn
ows
that the
wizards
are
not to be
meddled with
. 
In fact
,
passive obedience
is
how
most
folk try to deal with them–
if ever
an occasion arises where they must be dealt with
.
"

Safreon had then explained to her that there
was a strange
plant
called Oberon which
was said to grow on the highest
peaks
of the Witch Crags,
a mysterious region
to the west
of the C
ity. 

"
The
Witch Crags
are
supposedly the place where despondent souls
go
to try to die.  Apparently, as the lore
goes
, some people just c
a
n’t figure out how to let g
o of their life in this realm–even after their mortal body has
perished. 
It’s
said that
spiritual
forces beg
i
n to pull them into the next life
;
and
the
se souls fi
nd it harder and harder to remain
here as shades in the realm of the living.  Eventually
they
are
drawn to the W
itch Crags.  It is said that something about the rocky crags makes these spirits think they will find relief from the pull of the next life there."

The crags themselves were
steep a
nd stark rock formations.  Safreon told her that it was rumored that
those crags
,
and
the
valleys that separated them
,
had once been beautiful. 

"
No one
is sure
whether some
unique properties of the region
first drew the
lost
souls to the area or whether the souls arrived and
brought evil with them
.  But
the
area is now called the Witch Crags–partly because it is perennially dark and
noisome
,
and strange lights
are
often
seen around the peaks.
"

He related that t
he spirits of the not
-
quite
-
departed
were
frightening and often very dangerous–
especially at night when they
roamed the hills and valleys in great numbers, anxious to engage an
unfortunate traveler
in an icy embrace that would consume their very soul
. 

"But it’s
the evil
hag-like spirits that truly gi
ve the Witch Crags their sinister name.  These Witches
are
said to be powerful, malevolent spirits who
gather
the
lost
souls into evil covens. 
It is said that they mask their evil with great beauty, but l
ittle else
is
known about them in the City.
"

"
Oberon
is pure
concentrated magical energy in physical form
.
  It can be used to make magical potions and can also be used to magnify the strength of magical spells. 
It
is
a
vital
resource for a Wizard
to have in order to
allow him
to reach the heights of
magical
power.
"
 

"
The
Wizard Guild
is said to have been formed by an enterprising w
izard named Julius who supposedly discovered the
Oberon for the first time,
in
the
possession
of a dying
man.  This man had carried himself like a
lunatic
as he wandered into the City, and
raved about surviving a sojourn through
a land called
the Witch Crags.
"

Hemlock knew that their City, which was named San Cyra, but was always referred to simply as "The City," had strange properties compared to the other lands that it travelled through.  The City never stayed in the same place for long.  If one travelled to the edge of the land around the City, they saw a shimmering and opaque border, which was referred to as "the veil."  Beyond the veil, things always changed.  If one crossed the veil and lingered for more than a few hours, then they wouldn’t find the City where they left it, and would be stranded.

"
Julius
studied the Oberon
and quickly ascertained its properties
of magical enhancement
. 
By rapidly bringing his considerable power to bear, Julius was able to bind the Witch Crags region to the City before it faded away. 
Alone, Julius
then
assayed the Witch Crags and located the
Oberon
herb growing at the top of
one of
the crags.  After some dangerous encounters
with the hostile spirits of the realm
,
Julius
quickly determined that
the
regular journeys
from the City that would be necessary in order
to harvest
the Oberon
would be unacceptably dangerous, even for a Wizard of his
considerable
stature.
"