Hemlock And The Wizard Tower (Book 1) (53 page)

Rising quickly, Safreon looked back and saw that
Jupita was rising also;
she had fallen precipitously
close to the edge of the chasm.

"Get back!"
Safreon screamed over the din.

Looking to his left and right, Safreon saw that beams of force were burst
ing forth from the eyes of the golems.
 

Following the
path
of the beams
, Safreon reali
zed to his horror that they
were cutting through the
iron supports
that
held the platform on which he stood from falling into the chasm.
 

He realized that he
had only scant moments to act.

In a few more dashing steps,
he grabbed the wand.
 
It was warm to the touch and he felt a surge go through his body that almost felt like lightning, but without any pain.

Turning, he ran desperately back over the causeway toward Jupita, who was trying to maintain her footing amongst the falling rock and continual rumblin
gs of the floor of the chamber.

In that moment, as he ran, Safreon was captivated by
her beauty
.
 
Her
raven
hair was flying to and fro as she struggled, and her cloak and tunic were hanging on her loosely, revealing more of her figure
than they normally would have.

But
then his mind turned to the Wand, and another surge of excitement echoed through his body
, overcoming his concern for Jupita.

"This is the greatest moment of my
life," he considered as he ran.

But then the causeway began to buckle under him, finally succumbing to the stresses in the rock floor.
 
It dropped about three feet and the rock floor around it partially disintegrated, falling into the dark
pit.

The golems continued their grim work as Safreon reached
the end of the causeway and jumped for the edge of the
rock
floor, which was now some feet distant and above where he
stood.

Amazingly, he made the jump
,
although only his s
houlders and arms made purchase as
his chest and body l
anded heavily against the rock.  He had managed to retain the Wand during the jump.

Another rumble reverberated through the chamber then, and there
was another great heaving of the rock floor followed by
a blind
ing emanation of powdered rock.

Safreon struggled to climb up, but
holding the Wand made it difficult.

A weak voice
came from below him. "Safreon?"

Looking down, Safreon's heart froze
.
Jupita hung below him from an outcropping of rock.
 
Only her bleeding hands
, shoulders
a
nd desperate face were visible.

Safreon
knew that he
couldn't help her
,
for he was barely able to keep himself from falling,
even as he held the Wand.

"Jupita!" he screamed.

Her hands began to give way.

Their eyes met as she fell.
 
No words were spoken
during that moment
before she disappeared forever from his sight.
 
It seemed like an eternity to Safreon, like they lived an entire lif
e together in that one instant.

But then it was over.
 
And he was alone, in the chamber that was crumbling around
him.

The causeway finally gave way and fell into the chasm, as Safreon, now broken in mind
,
body
,
and spirit, gained his
purchase and climbed to safety.

The g
olem
’
s eyes went dead as Safreon limped between them.
 
They were cold stone again and Safreon felt a sudden kinship with them
,
for he felt n
othing–was nothing–
in that moment.

Hemlock
was still lost in thought about the implications of Merit’s tale about Safreon when she realized that the small gnome had finished.

He looked at her with what Hemlock interpreted as a warm expression.

And then she saw a curious change come over Merit's features.
 
In a combination of movements that she hadn't seen
him make
before, the gears, pistons and levers of
his
face formed into an expression of unmis
takable mirth.
 
He was smiling.

Perhaps seeing that makes all of this suffering worthwhile
,
she thought to herself, bewitched by Merit's simple expression of joy.

"It has been good to see you again, Miss Hemlock.  I must go, now that my mission is complete.  Please consider Gwineval’s words, and this tale about Safreon.  I am not a great thinker, but I know that it must be important.  Farewell."

Hemlock smiled as Merit quietly left her chamber.

Hemlock
returned to her bed and
laid in
it
uneasily.
 
The tale that Merit had told her about Safreon troubled her despite her wariness that Gwineval had
intended
it to do
just that.

What if Gwineval is telling the truth?
she wond
ered over and over in her mind.

She wasn't aware of a clear transition to sleep, but soon she was
conscious of
floating over the Wizard Tower,
looking down at the C
ity.
 
It was a clear night and she could see many people still moving about on the streets
below her
.
 
She noticed
that
something was odd about them though.
 
Concentrating on them, she was able to discern the glint of metal on their limbs.
 
At first she thought that it was jewelry, but something in their gait was familiar to her.
 
It was a gait that she had seen often in the past few weeks and as recently as tonight, when Merit had crept
into her room to tell his tale.

"The City is full of automatons
!
" she
gasped.

She floated higher until she could see the hills of the Witch Crags to the west, the mountains to the East, the fertile farmlands to
the south and the barren desert to the North.

Higher still she floated until she could make out the veil which marked the borders of the
outer
re
alms of the City.
 

Beyond the veil, she could see other lands.
 
Hemlock perceived that they were different than the realms of the City, appearing raw and primordial
by comparison.

She continued to rise, until she saw the course of the City through the lower realms mapped out as a flickering trail.
 
The trail, traced out in many more than three dimensions, was som
ehow comprehensible to Hemlock.

And the form of the trail spoke to her talents of magical affinity in a way that sh
e couldn't express.

She gasped to herself again.

Is this what Safreon saw?
 
Did he know?

By observing the form of the magical path of the City through the multiverse,
Hemlock knew instinctively what the plan of the first Wizard had been when he created the City.
 
It
hadn’t been
intended merely as a retreat or a refuge for a reclusive Wizard, it
had been
meant to be a means
to help
troubled
souls t
o find the peace of the higher realms of consciousness.

This realization
revealed the treachery
perpetrated by
the Imperator and the
later w
izards in
its
full extent.
 
They had perverted a land which had been created with the highest
sense of moral purpose
.
 
Their actions
had transformed
the byproduct of
an act of compassion by the original Wizard
,
and
had
redirected
it
to
a
malicious purpose
of exploiting the very souls that the City had been devised to aid.

Hemlock then became conscious of
the blood of the first Wizard resonating in her veins.
 
Somehow she
knew that she
was descended from his line, although she did not k
now how this could be possible.

Her eyes opened.

She
still
lay in her bed in a
secured chamber in the Wizard T
ower, but she
knew that she
was now a different person than the one that had recently descended into slumber in that very bed.
…

When Hemlock rose from her bed the next morning, she
felt certain
that the events of the night had not been just a dream.  She felt different
in a subtle, but significant way.

She did some stretching and exercises, bathed and dressed
,
following the routine that she had established since her confinement
. 
T
hen, for want of anything else to do,
she
sat down to continue reading another book from her bookshelf, which proved to be only a barely adequate relief from her
growing
boredom.

Just as she had settled into a state of comfortable distraction, an unexpected early knock came at her door.

When she answered, instead of Falignus, s
he saw the doddering Professor Grubbins
waiting, peering down his nose and past his circular metal rimmed glasses at her with undisguised contempt.

"
Lord
Falignus demands your p
resence in the audience chamber,
"
he said formally.

"Well, let's not keep him waiting
,
" Hemlock replied, pushing past the bookish old man roughly.

As she moved quickly through the halls and down the central stair, Grubbins
, who could not match her pace,
was shouting behind her
,
"You cannot travel unescorted!"

She ignored him and quickly arrived in the audience chamber, entering through the side door used by the
wizards
, which was accessed by a wide circular stair from the second floor.

"Ah Hemlock, please sit
,
" instructed Falignus, slightly
more
aloof
than usual to her
.

Hemlock was not surprised that Falignus was reacting to her refusal to remain his lover by distancing himself from her.  In fact, she was somewhat relieved that he seemed to be expressing his emotions genuinely.  It gave her some hope that he planned to continue to trust her–at least insofar as her purported goal to kill Gwineval aligned with his identical aim.

Hemlock sat beside him in the row of seating
meant
for the
wizards
.

Falignus rotated in his chair to face her.  "The time is ripe to move against Gwineval
,
" he said.

Hemlock paused for a moment before responding.  She realized that she was beginning to feel disconnec
ted from memories of Gwineval–and
of Safreon.  She had to
quickly reassure
herself that she could still form a mental image of Safreon's face.
  Satisfied that she could
, she replied, attempting to couch her remarks
about revenge against Gwineval
with a level of enthusiasm
.
A
fter last night, she
found this was increasingly difficult.
"Good, the wait has been interminable."

"There is now o
nly a single Oberon harvesting o
belisk intact, near the border
of the W
itch Crags.  Gwineval will know that we will
have to
defend it at all costs; he will know that he can cripple us by destroying it.  It is a logical site
for a final battle between us," said
Falignus, fixing Hemlock with a penetrating gaze.

Hemlock
averted her eyes
away from his stare
,
immediately regretting a missed opportunity to appear resolute.
"It makes sense.  When do we leave?"

Falignus turned away and looked into the hall reflectively.

"Hemlock, I'm concerned about Gwineval's use of the Wand.  I have been studying the properties of the Wand of the Imperator over these weeks.  I know that it is very potent, but also seems to require some time to perfect its use.  Your old
comrade
used it to great effect aga
inst us in the battle of Tor Varn
os."

"Yes, I think Safreon had the Wand for quite a while
–
maybe he understood its p
owers better than Gwineval does,
"
Hemlock said.

"I can't underestimate Gwineval though
–
especially after the brilliant campaign that he and the Tanna
Varran
s have waged against us these past weeks.  My commander,
Siros
, though a bit dull, is reasonably capable.  Yet he's been outwitted
repeatedly;
and more importantly
,
he’s
been outfought by the Tanna
Varran
s, aided by Gwineval's magic.  Gwineval was one of us; he knows our methods of battle.  That is an advantage for him.  Also, he is a brilliant scholar of magic and also a gifted practitioner.  I have some reason to believe that he had done some study on the Wand prior to defecting from the Tower and I fear that, even without the resources of the Tower,
he will be able to decipher all of the
mysteries of the Wand."

"I do know that he and Safreon spent a great deal of time discussing the Wand in the days prior to your attack.  I think you have reason to be worried.  I think Safreon trusted Gwineval
,
" Hemlock offered, hoping that this would demonstrate her loyalty
to him
.

Fali
gnus rose from his ornate chair
and strolled into the hall.  He turned to face Hemlock.

"It is possible that I could locate another Wand to oppose him.  But it would be risky and it would take time."

"You know of another W
and?" Hemlock asked, surprised. 

"Each outer region is bound to the City with a Wand.  It is possible that I could retrieve one of those.  But it would be costly, and those in that region might not...
appreciate losing it
."

Hemlock considered this
.
  "Could the City survive without
one of
the outer regions?  Doesn't it need the Witch Crags for Oberon, the farmlands for food and the mountains for resources?  But that leaves..."

"Precisely
,
" replied Falignus.

"What is the purpose of the
d
esert?"

"Perhaps I'll explain it to y
ou sometime.  Suffice it to say
that under certain dire circumstances, it could theoretically be sacrificed."

Falignus began to pace, looking lost in thought.  Hemlock did not interrupt him.  Finally, he stopped and faced her, with a hand on his chin and a distant look in his eye.

"Hemlock, do you have any other observations that might help our cause?" he asked.

"I'm afraid
that
I don't
,
" she responded.

Falignus walked toward her, and reached his arm out as if to help her up.  But
then
he made
a
quick gestur
e
with his hand and
a spray of
colored lights
burst forth from his palm, enclosing Hemlock in the familiar
shimmering magical field which the wizards
employed to constrain her powers.

Hemlock darted upright and attempted to flee, but F
alignus restrained her forcibly;
her powers of speed and strength
were
effectively blunted by the magical field.