Hemlock And The Wizard Tower (Book 1) (45 page)

"That
is a decisive setback for us.
 
Somehow we must
recover our appearance of invulnerability.  At least Gwineval is also known to be a Wizard himself," Falignus thought grimly.

His thoughts then returned to the tasks at hand and soon he
was directing the lurching Harvester to move toward the
Tanna Varran
town to investigate something
that
had
just
happened nearby:
 
Gwineval's transformative magic had suddenly waned and he had retreated to the
Tanna Varran
Town in haste.
 
Falignus had seen a great demonic creature there, struggling against magical wards.
 
And then suddenly the creature had been enveloped by a scintillating vortex of light
and dispelled.

It must be related to Gwineval's transformation.
 
This must be the magical force that I foresaw.
 
But what was the source of it?

He
paused for a moment and hummed a phrase while moving his arms rhythmically.
 
Then
he touched his eyes.
 
When he opened his eyes again, his sight was enhanced.
 
He quickly focused in on the scene near the base of the town.
He could see Gwineval there, holding an
item that made him gasp aloud.

"
A
Wand of the Imperator
,
" he whispered aloud.
 

This explained much to the
now
brooding
Wizard.

Regaining his composure quickly,
Falignus called down into the torso of the Harvester, where
several subordinate wizards were stationed and busy
controlling the Harvester and
providing spell casting
energy to Falignus.

"Kraven!
 
I am sending our forces
forward
to attempt to retrieve an item from the Tanna
Varran
s
and Gwineval,
" called Falignus, his voice echoing within the iron interior,
"
Leave the Harvester and survey the battlefield from above.
"

Here Falignus paused, for he knew what he should order Kraven to focus on: the Wand of the Imperator, borne by Gwineval.  But something within him was arguing for a different order altogether, an order that seemed to fly in the face of reason.  Before he knew what he was doing, Falignus
made to issue
the
latter order to Kraven. 

Kraven
stood
across from Falignus
, waiting
expectantly
beside the other great eye socket.

"
Look for
a
young girl
.  She is beautiful and deadly.  She is likely to be gravely wounded, though.  She is not a Tanna Varran, but is from the City.
See if you can
locate and
capture her and bring her to me
: alive
.
"

Kraven nodded and
turned toward the bat
tlefield.  His magically modified wings extended,
and with a great leap, he exited the Harvester.

Falignus
watched as Kraven’s gray wings,
which appeared to be a part of his body and were shaped
like those of a hawk, unfurled and quickly
bore him high above the battle and
beyond the Tanna
Varran
scou
ts that sought to intercept him
with
their own artificial wings
.

Turning his attention back to the battle below, Falignus
turned to a crystal ball filled with a clear liquid that was mounted in the hull beside him. 

Concentrating, he
scryed with the Wizard Malvert, his ground
force commander, and ordered his forces
forward
toward the Tanna Varran town
.

"I have a company reformed and in reserve.  We will attack immediately,"
responded Malvert
confidently, though Falignus could see that the strain of battle was weighing on the leader of the First Circle
.

Falignus shook his head.  All the companies of
wizards
had been routed by Gwineval when he was transformed into that great beast.  If he were able to do that again now, the
wizards
would surely be defeated.  Falignus suspected that the Demon that he had seen had been related to that magic
al transformation
, however, because the power of
Gwineval’s transformation
spell had
clearly
been so great.  Since the Demon was gone, Falignus felt
confident
that Gwineval would not be able to cast that spell again.

"
I hope I am correct
,"
he thought
grimly
.

Falignus soon realized that the Harvester was getting dangerously close to the Tanna
Varran
town and their siege engines.  He had intended to have the
wizards
bombard the town from a distance once they gained control of the battlefield, but the events of the day had changed that plan.  Falignus halted the Harvester.

In a f
ew moments after the lumbering iron g
olem st
opped, the reformed company of First C
ircle
wizards
passed around and under it and advanced on the Tanna
Varran
town
and into and through the front lines of the battle, achieving a breakthrough
.
 
A unit of Tanna
Varran
lancers quickly descende
d from the upper levels of the T
own
and engaged the Wizard company.

Falignus could see that the melee was intense, with many casualties on both sides.
 
The
wizards
were showering the air with jets of fire and leaping impossibly high with their magic and pulling unwary Lancers from the air.  But the Lancers were brave and well trained.  They were able to use their spears to great effect, both in a hovering melee tactic and also as a thrown weapon.

Drawing power from the
wizards
below him, Falignus directed several lightning bolts at the flying lancers.
 
Some missed, for the distance was considerable and Falignus still did not dare advance the sole remaining Harvester within range of the Tanna
Varran
siege engines.
 
Some of the lightning bolts
impacted the flying soldiers, often damaging their wings or knocking them unconscious and caus
ing them to crash to the earth.

"Damn
Gwineval’s
protective
spells
," Falignus cursed under his breath
,
"
our magic should be routing them."

Suddenly
, down on the battlefield,
a bright
and forking stream of lightning
began to wash over
Malvert’s
Wizard company
from the Tanna Varran rear
, incinerating
wizards
wherever it
passed
.
 
It was intermittent and erratic, but even so, it was devastating the
front of the Wizard formation.

Quickly casting his visual enhancement magic
again
, Falignus surveyed the scene and saw Gwineval wielding the Wand of the Imperator and blasting
his w
izard troops with the
lightning, which did not relent, but thundered over and over again under his keen direction
.
 
The
once human wizard
looked uncertain wielding the Wand, yet he was still
using it decisively.

Falignus, cursing to him
self, scanned the front of the w
izard ranks for Malvert.  He could not find him.
 
Then Falignus spotted part of an
ornamental crimson battle robe
lying on the groun
d amongst bodies and body parts.  He knew that the robe
had been
Malvert's.
 
It was clear to Falignus that the
veteran warrior and w
izard had finally m
et his demise.

He was about to issue an order to retreat when he noticed a slight
ly built
,
hunched form near Gwineval, shuffling
forward resolutely, but clearly wounded.
 
Looking closer, he could
see that it was a young woman.

Hemlock
,
he thought, and his pulse quickened even beyond the fever pace at which it roared within him in this moment of great stress.

He knew that he had to order a retreat, but he searched the sky for Kraven, hoping that his minion had al
so spotted the young girl.  Fal
i
g
nus considered that Hemlock
could
probably easily slay Kraven if she was at full st
rength.  But he quickly saw that his gamble had paid off;
Hemlock cle
arly was far worse for wear
after her battle with the Witch.  Kraven would probably be able to overpower her.

Falignus spotted a winged form then, locked in a steep dive.

"
Kraven
has seen her!"
muttered Falignus.

He
saw that the winged Wizard had chosen his trajectory well, for he intercepted Hemlock directly
and
deliver
ed
a blow to her head.  Falignus cringed at the ferocity of that blow and hoped that Hemlock wasn’t hurt badly by it.  But the blow had
clearly
been effective
,
for he could see Kraven’s wings beating furiously in a climb, the limp form of
the young girl
cradled within his arms.

Some Tanna
Varran
lancers made
an attempt
to intercept Kraven
,
but his rate of climb was superior to theirs, as was his speed.  He was returning to the Harvester and would clearly outpace any reaction by the Tanna
Varran
s.

Refocusing himself, Falignus scryed with a subordinate commander and sounded the retreat. 

Looking again with his magically enhanced vision, he spotted Gwineval again.  The Wizard looked frail and extended beyond all endurance, yet his eyes burned.   He was looking directly at the Harvester, as it turned in retreat.  There was a determined defiance in Gwineval’s eyes, the image of which remained with Falignus for many hours afterwards.

"
Gwineval, your ambition h
as exceeded my expectations.  But don’t doubt that we
shall meet again
,"
Falignus muttered under his breath.

Hemlock
recalled that a
s she
had lost consciousness,
her world
had
faded to white.  It
had felt
like she had been consumed by light and fullness.  She
had
felt completely at peace
–
if only for a fleeting
instant
of time.

But
the
white
light
had slowly taken
on a painful hue.  Her head
had
begun to throb.  Her eyes
had
fluttered and then sprung open
to a painful reality
. 

She
became aware that she
lay prone on a padded bench and was bound securely.  Through a window the
setting
sun was shining in her eyes as she tried to ascertain her surroundings. 
She was bound by magical bonds which
sizzled with
spell
force and burned her skin where
they
came in contact
with it
.
  She attuned to the spells restraining her and recognized wizard magic.  The spells were strong and she was not confident that she could break them in her current weakened condition.

She
then
became conscious of a repeating
,
lurching motion which shook the entire chamber
within which she lay; the walls of the chamber were oddly curved
and she noted that the
two
windows were oddly shaped
ovals.  She recognized, after a time, that the oval windows were crafted in the shape of
huge eyes
and that the walls were the angles of a human face as it would appear if viewed from the inside
.

She realized with a start that she must be inside
the head of
a
Wizard
Gu
ild h
arve
ster golem
.

A figure was seated at a control panel in front of her.

"
You awaken," stated the figure,
and even in her painful condition she felt a
connection
with the voice that she heard.  She recognized the voice; it was the voice of the w
izard Falignus.

Hemlock did not respond
–
her head was still swimming from the battle, her wounds,
the betrayal of Gwineval,
and the death of Safreon
and Taros Ranvok
.

"We're returning to the City, H
emlock.  You need not reply to me. 
I know
that
you are wounded
,
" continued Falignus with an air of casual conversation.

"You will stay with me as my guest for a time.  I must spend some time with you.  You were fortunate to survive your encounter with the Witch. 
Is it true that you killed her?  No need to answer, again, but I know that it likely is true.
 
And,"
here Falignus paused as if reflecting
,
"
I suppose that it shows some
measure of your power that you did
survive.  We must discuss at some length
the way in which you killed the Witch
.
  I had suspected that she had a vulnerability, and I venture to guess that you must have figured that out, too.
"

Hemlock was in pain, but still she made the effort to speak
.
"Guest o
r Prisoner?" she said, managing to expel some air from her lungs with great
effort.

"Please Hemlock, don’t be rude," Falignus responded, sounding almost petulant.

"Oh, and I’m sorry about the magical bonds.  My wizards insisted on them over my objections.  You have demonstrated great power, so I understand their concern for my safety," he continued, seemingly oblivious to Hemlock’s pointed question.

Hemlock felt a crushing sensation of renewed fatigue and numbness wash over her.  It was both emotional and physical in nature.  She welcomed blackness as it descended over her, mercifully consuming her consciousness.

All is lost
, was her final thought.

…

The blackness faded, giving way to pain.

Hemlock was cowering in the corner of a small chamber, the walls of which seemed to ooze around her, their stone and mortar contorting into terrifying nightmare images.

Do I dream?

She started to feel more alert, and the suspicion that she was dreaming started to dissipate.

The nightmarish visions were soon replaced with some semblance of waking clarity, but her surroundings still twisted and contorted in a dreamlike way.

On one end of the small chamber, there was a shimmering and scintillating wall of energy.

She suddenly remembered her brief conversation with Falignus in the Harvester. 

I am in the Wizard Tower.

After a while the
strange
environment started to weigh on Hemlock.
 
She felt hazy and almost insubstantial in t
he dreamlike environment.
 
She became aware of
a loud noise that surrounded her and sounded like a slow heartbeat mixed with the steady rush of fluid.
 
Recalling
her prior trip through
the Wizard Tower
with Gwineval, she wondered if this was the noise of the Oberon pipeline which she knew ran alongside the
prison
chamber
that they had briefly visited when she had escaped with Gwineval
.

Is that where I am – in the prison room?

This sound, which might have been comforting on its own, was
soon
punctuated
by cries of anguish and inchoate babbling
.
 
Some
nearby voices muttered
insane nonsense, while others made animalistic noi
ses or spouted gibberish.
 

The
 
cumulative
effect
of these voices
was nightmarish, made even more
so by Hemlock's magical awareness.
 
She
knew that she
was surrounded by magic that was crafted to be repressive and dispiriting.
 
Even though she was aware of the
nature of the magic
, she was not immune from
its effects.

She began to despair and
to
wonder if Falignus would ever remove her from this terrible place.
 
She
also
began to think thoughts that made her feel less than human.
 
She was tempted to offer Falignus anything to escape a fate of living in this chamber.
 
She wondered if she might turn into a feral animal like the other deniz
ens, if left here long enough.

Sh
e
managed to sleep
a little and found that waking in th
e same
place again was even worse
–
for she had dreamt of the Warrens and
of Safreon in happier times.  She had dreamt of
her old life.
 
It made for a cruel awakening.

Just as her despair seemed to be becoming unbearable, she perceived
the
distinct sound of a door opening an
d then she heard some footsteps approaching her.

Hemlock saw Falignus approaching
her cell, his elegance of form and the promise of relief of her suffering seeming like a symphony
in which
each
of his
step
s
was a movement
. H
is
gait
seemed
quixotic
to her
, rising to a crescendo as he
stood before the wall of energy
that separated them,
and
regarded
her
warmly
.

His face was illuminated by the energy field, and was
striking in its contrast with
the
darkness
of the hall
behind him
, which seemed like it was
a hundred yards away to Hemlock
, even though it was mere footsteps.

"I’d like to get you out of this dismal place," he began.

Hemlock did not respond, a sudden burst of pride restraining her desire to cry out for mercy.

"We needed some time to prepare some," here he paused, "proper accommodations for you."

"A suitable prison cell?" Hemlock responded with a rasping voice, her mouth painfully dry.

Falignus shook his head with disappointment. "You persist in casting your visit in the most unpleasant light.  Remember that only a few weeks ago you sought to enter here, and did so at great risk to yourself.  Now you are here again and apparently wish to be gone." He chuckled.  "It is ironic."

The energy field spat out a lick of energy that burnt Hemlock as she began to move toward Falignus.

Falignus waived his hand and the energy field was gone, along with much of the dispiriting effect.

"Again, I apologize," he stated, entering into the cell to help Hemlock to rise.

She did not resist his help, and soon was standing uncertainly.

She looked into his eyes, so close to hers, and more substantial than they had been in her dream state where she had first spoken to him.  They were a piercing blue with flecks of gold.  She marveled at the fact that they were just like her own.

He appeared to be studying her eyes as well.

"Interesting," he muttered.

Then grasping her more fully, he instructed her, "Come with me."

She was happy to oblige, wanting nothing more at that moment than to leave that chamber.  She remembered many things suddenly, many sorrows and worries.  She had been so preoccupied with her torment, that she had found it easy to forget them.  She realized that she was trading one form of torment for another.

Still, she continued to shuffle along with Falignus; and they were soon joined by several other wizards, who escorted her past the other cells and the wails of the imprisoned, and out of the chamber.

…

Hemlock awoke again in a more hospitable environment.  She lay in a large four poster bed which was topped with an ornate upper panel.  Fine white linens adorned the bed and were tethered to the posts in readiness to be extended to protect against drafts.  The bed itself was skillfully beveled and contained drawers in the base for storage.

The room was not large, but it was warmly accented with the same mahogany that she had first seen in the foyer of the Wizard Tower.  Here, burgundy drapes and rugs helped to soften the look of the wood and contributed to the room’s comparatively inviting atmosphere.

Hemlock only dimly remembered being led here by Falignus.  A female Wizard had helped her with a bath and she had changed into a borrowed dress which fit her reasonably well.

Hemlock looked down at the crème colored dress, and felt foolish.  She had rarely worn a dress before, for she only owned a single one, and it was reserved for formal occasions.

She wondered how long she had slept.

Going to the window, she saw that it was early evening in the City.  She was not surprised to see a detectable dweomer covering the surface of the window pane.  Clearly the wizards had taken some precaution against her escape.

Using her magical affinity, Hemlock felt resistance in a number of rapidly changing guises.  They were changing so rapidly that she could not lock in on any particular one.  She noted, chagrined, that this was an effective counter to her powers.

Looking out the window and ignoring the faint haze of the magic spell that enclosed her, she noted that her room faced East and the view looked out toward the Senate building and Hemisphere Lake, the latter being the geographic center of the City.  Beyond the Senate building, she could see the whitewashed buildings of the Elite district, bathed in a cozy glow from a myriad of torches, which were reflected attractively on the surface of the lake.

Her body felt reasonably good, as if most of her wounds from the recent battle had been healed.  Looking inward, she still felt numb from recent events.

She wondered after her sister, with a pang of guilt. 

She had been so wrapped up in the drama of recent events, that she had spared precious little thought as to the well-being of her sibling.