Hamilton Swoop, Wizard of Green Ridge (23 page)

"She's out cold, right? Just throw a blanket over her. We may still need her to summon the wizard again. This old guy upstairs ain't lookin’ fer bodies. And if he starts to make any trouble ... use your knife."

"You sure this guy works for the City?"

"No, but he sounds like he does, but he ain't no wizard. That spell Tummin put on this place would have been squawking like a stuck goose as soon as he walked in. Hear anything?"

"I guess not, but I don't like it. What's he look like?"

"Old guy with a bandaged leg. On a crutch. Think you can take ‘im?"

"Bring him down. I'll stay back here and listen."

"Yeah, well first grab that blanket and cover up the girl."

Hamilton heard someone climbing the stairs and stood back up. Duck emerged from the doorway. “Follow me. Be careful. Only one of the lights works."

Hamilton did his best to negotiate the staircase with his crutch making it appear as difficult as possible. Duck led the way. When they reached the basement Duck asked, “What's wrong with your leg?"

"Dog,” replied Hamilton with a touch of anger. “A poonin’ poodle. If I could a caught that mutt, I'd a broken it's damn neck.” Hamilton looked around the room which was stacked with boxes, crates, and burlap sacks. One large pile was covered with blankets. He also spotted his small rock on the window sill tied with the twine. “This all the light you got?"

"Yeah. Only the one bulb down here."

"It'll have to do then.” Hamilton, holding his crutch to brace himself, got down on his knees. He ran his hand over the cool surface of the stone floor.

Duck watched him for a few moments and then asked, “What cha lookin’ for?"

"Cracks,” replied Hamilton. “If there are any cracks in the floor, it's likely that the foundation is rotten. If you help, it will take a lot less time than with just me workin’ by myself.” In his crawl across the floor, Hamilton had arrived just below the window sill that held the rock. “Your eyes are probably better ‘n mine too."

Duck got down on his hands and knees and started looking for cracks in the floor.

After a few moments Hamilton groaned.

"What's the matter?” asked Duck from across the room.

"It's this damn leg. I gotta stand up for a minute.” He pulled himself up using his crutch. “I'll be okay. Jest a short break."

Hamilton, once more on his feet picked up the rock from the window sill and, while holding it behind his back, began slowly reeling in his wand. “This is going to be easy,” he thought.

The twine became taught when the wand hung up on something outside. Hamilton pulled a bit harder as he shifted his position trying to alter the angle of the string. It refused to give. He gave it a harder yank and was rewarded by a severed piece of twine falling to the floor. “Poon. Time for plan B,” Hamilton thought. Then he frowned when he realized that he had no plan B. Duck solved the problem.

"Found one.” announced Duck. “And it's pretty deep."

"Where?” asked Hamilton as he limped his way across the floor to where the man was on his hands and knees.

He stood over Duck and again asked, “Where? I don't see it."

Duck reached out on the floor and pointed at a crack. It's right he..."

There was a dull thud as Hamilton's makeshift crutch bounced off the back of Duck's head. The small man sprawled face forward on the floor.

"Mr. Duck! Mr. Duck! What's the matter?” Hamilton cried.

There was a stirring noise from behind a stack of crates in the dark rear of the cellar. A large man with a full beard emerged and looked down at the fallen Duck. “What did you do to him?"

Hamilton cowered. “N-nothin'. Mr. D-Duck had f-found a c-crack in the f-floor and then he just, he just collapsed. C-can you help him?” Hamilton leaned heavily on his crutch.

Keeping a wary eye on Hamilton, this man, considerably larger than Duck, went to the fallen man's side. He slapped Duck several times in the face and shouted, “Quack! Quack! Wake up you lump of crud!"

"Maybe I sh-should get him some water or s-something? Is there some w-water around here?” he asked the big man.

"Yeah. Good. Upstairs, back room. There's a sink."

Hamilton did his best to hobble up the stairs. From below, he heard, “Quack! You dumb bastard! Quack!"

He located the sink and quickly filled a dirty cast iron pot with the yellowish liquid that came out of the tap. Then he returned to the stair and hobbled back down. He carried the pot over to where the second man was still slapping the fallen Duck. “Here.” He offered the pot to him.

The big man took it and turned back to Duck. Keeping an eye on Hamilton he splashed some of the water into Duck's face.

"Look, he's waking up!” Hamilton said.

The big man looked back down at Duck and, with a second thud, fell silently on top of his partner as the iron pot fell to the floor. Yet another thunk returned Duck to the Land of Nod.

Hamilton shook his head as he looked at the fallen thugs. Then he turned and, within seconds, located the unconscious Thalia beneath a pile of old horse blankets. He pulled her free and untied her hands and feet. She was unconscious, but didn't look damaged. He grabbed the iron pot that still contained some water and splashed it on her face. Her eyes fluttered as she began to wake. Hamilton tied the two fallen thugs together face to face with their arms wrapped around the other's back. “Such a lovely couple,” Hamilton thought. Then he returned to Thalia.

She blinked her eyes, apparently trying to get them to focus. When he bent to help her up she lashed out at him with a surprisingly strong punch, climbed to her feet and assumed a defensive posture. “Keep your hands off me, you dirty old man."

Hamilton rubbed his jaw where she had struck him and backed up into the light. “Here, I travel all the way from Central City, just to save your little butt and this is the thanks I get? I've a mind to leave you here."

"H-Hamilton? Is that you? But you're old again. What happened?” she asked.

"I was hoping that you could answer that question.” He continued to rub his jaw. That's quite a punch you've got."

"I'm sorry. Really. But I thought that you were..."

"I can guess,” interrupted Hamilton. “I couldn't figure out why I wasn't able contact you. And now, for some reason, my magic doesn't seem to work."

"That, I can explain,” she replied. “See that jar? Over there on the table?"

"Yeah. What's in it?"

"Melvin, that's the one on top,” she said pointing at the big man in the pile, “said it was dragon spit. Put the lid back on it and screw it down tight. They've been burning a little bit of it every few hours."

"Well that explains a few things, but what happened to you?"

"I don't know. I was at the station getting ready to board the coach back to Center City. I bought some juice from a vendor there and before I could board the coach, I passed out. I've never heard of magic like that before."

"That wasn't magic. It was something far more insidious,” mumbled Hamilton.

"What was it?” she asked.

"Pharmacology. Someone spiked your drink, I imagine. We'd better get out of here. It's beginning to get dark outside."

"Don't you want to question these two?” she asked pointing at the two thugs.

"Yes, but I seem to have hit them rather hard. We can't sit around and wait for them to wake up. Such a shame we can't stay. I'd like to be here when they wake up. Should make for an interesting confrontation, but let's get out of before someone steals Bethesda and we have to walk back."

Outside, Hamilton collected his wand after removing the tied twine from it. A gust of warm damp wind wafted past. Thalia stared at him with a very sour expression on her face. He looked at her and, shaking his head, “It wasn't me. There's a lake full of sh ... er, raw sewage about two blocks from here."

Thalia looked at Hamilton, unconvinced, until another breeze brought a second helping of eau d’ Smokey Lake. Her nose scrunched up in an attempt to shut out the smell.

"Shall we take a stroll by the misty waters?” Hamilton suggested.

Thalia gave him a dirty look. “I think not."

Hamilton feigned disappointment. “Then I suppose that we should go collect Bethesda and get out of here."

"As quickly as possible,” Thalia agreed.

Bethesda's motivation equaled that of the wizard and the girl and soon the three of them had left Smokey Lake behind. Miles away from her prison, Thalia said, “I can still smell it."

"It's on your clothes. It lingers on everything exposed to it."

The girl asked, “Are we going back to Central City now?"

"No. I think we both need a bath and it's getting dark. Tomorrow, I've got to visit the University. Argus said there's someone there that might be able to translate the fourth set of runes. Where did you stay before the boys grabbed you?"

"Some placed called the King's Head Inn."

"Nice place?"

"It wasn't awful, but I doubt that the King ever stayed there,” she clung to Hamilton's waist as Bethesda trotted through the streets.

"Is there a better place?"

"Well, the Guildmaster recommended a place called the Fairview, but I understood that it is very expensive."

"I expect I can afford it. Do you know where it is?"

The Fairview did turn out to be a luxurious place, more impressive even than their rooms in Central City.

When the effects of the dragon spit wore off, Hamilton became, with a bit of magic, his old new self again. After taking turns in the bathtub that was not large enough to accommodate them both, and after another hour of making love and a full meal, they lay in bed together.

Thalia bent over Hamilton and kissed him on the cheek.

"What was that for?"

She grinned. “For saving me, you ninny! You're my hero!"

Hamilton blushed, opened his mouth to reply, but couldn't think of anything to say. Finally, he managed, “Least I could do...” Then, after a protracted silence, he added, “I am curious about a few things."

"Such as?"

"Well, when the coach from Drayene arrived in Central City, I retrieved your bag."

"You didn't happen to bring it back with you? I could do with some better smelling clothes."

"Er, no. Sorry. But I did get the letter about Diamond. What happened to the information on Topaz?"

"Guild records show that there was a Master Topaz, but he died about 150 years ago. And, according to their records, he died of very old age. Unless he's now a ghost, it's likely that Master Topaz is an imposter. Also, I asked about Master Diamond's inquiry about Topaz. They have no record of it."

"What about the stuff on Diamond? Why'd you send that?” asked Hamilton.

"I didn't want to come back empty-handed. I thought the information might be useful. Was I wrong?” She ran her fingers through Hamilton's hair.

"No. It was a brilliant idea. But instead of answering any questions, it posed a whole slew of new ones. For instance, why does he act like a boob when he really
is
a master wizard?” Hamilton stroked his chin, frowned, and then decided to grow back his beard. “And what is Diamond's connection to Topaz?"

"I'm sure I don't know, but can't these questions wait until later?” She rolled over on top of him.

Hamilton decided that the questions could wait as Thalia's current position befuddled his concentration.

After another thirty minutes, Thalia drifted off to sleep. For Hamilton, however, sleep did not come as easily. Unanswered questions kept him awake and then, when sleep did come, they troubled his dreams.

He awoke early. Thalia was still asleep; her angelic face untroubled by the complexities that now plagued him. He rose and moved to the outer room where he sat and searched for answers to the too many questions. When this whole adventure, no, trial had begun, it was a simple question of how to eliminate a dragon, but now it was obvious that someone, Topaz or whoever he was—perhaps this Tummin person that the kidnappers had mentioned, was somehow controlling the attacks, but to what purpose? And why had he been attacked and why had Thalia been kidnapped? To get at him? But why? Why? Why? Too many questions and not a single answer to be found. He shook his head, frustrated. First, he decided, he would have to get rid of the dragon. Then, he would try to sort out the rest.

Later that morning Hamilton and Thalia checked out of the hotel. As he mounted Bethesda, Thalia asked, “Where to now?"

"We have two errands to run. First stop, Seabrook University. Argus couldn't translate the fourth rune, but he said that someone there might be able to."

"What's the other errand?” she asked as he hauled her up to sit behind him on Bethesda.

"Ever hear of someone named Tummin?"

"No. I don't think so. Who is he?"

"I overheard one of your kidnappers mention his name. He said that Tummin was the one that arranged the magic protecting that building they kept you in. Maybe someone at the Guild here has heard of him. It's worth a glance at their records. I hate to have to return to Central City with so many more questions than answers."

The University turned out to be huge. Its tall buildings and greening promenades sprawled across several dozen acres in the center of Drayene.

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Hamilton kicked himself for not trying to extract a name from Argus when he told him about the university. As it was, they bounced from the History Department to the Magical Studies Department to Archeology going from one blank stare to another. When he was just about to give up, he was directed to the Ancient Languages Department where he was introduced to a wizened professor of philology named Smythe.

After explaining the circumstances, the professor agreed to look at Hamilton's copy of the fourth set of runes.

"Your Runemaster was correct,” said Smythe speaking with a speed that could be timed with a calendar. These are not runes.” He put on a pair of horn-rimmed spectacles and continued to examine the copy.

"If not runes then what are they?” Hamilton asked.