Hemlock And The Dead God's Legacy (Book 2) (27 page)

The
Light Dancer shaman landed hard, and fell to the ground.  Julius stood and kicked it in the shoulder as it tried to rise, and it fell to the earth and lay on its back, breathing unsteadily.  He looked at the creature with wonder.  It had tried to surprise him and he now knew it was cunning as well as intelligent.  He noticed that it wore a golden pendant around its neck.  The creature muttered pathetically as Julius used his sword to lift the pendant off its chest to get a closer look.

He realized too late that
the mutterings were the shaman casting a spell!  The ley lines under his feet crackled to life and the white eyes of the shaman glowed vigorously.

Julius cursed as he drove his sword deep into the shaman’s chest
. He turned his blade until the eyes were dark again and the breathing ceased.

He ignored the pendant and ran north toward the next obelisk, avoiding the ley lines and their distasteful magic, which made the Wand in his hand feel charged with energy and more loathsome to his sensibilities.

But as he ran, he encountered groups of Light Dancers that perceived him and attacked. He killed them quickly, and took the time and energy to re-cast his Imperial masking spell.  But it didn’t work—the Light Dancers still came at him.

Next, he heard a distant explosion, and knew that Hamiltus had destroyed an obelisk.  But Julius was forced into a slow melee with hundreds of Light Dancers, and minutes turned into tens of minutes, and then an hour, before the next obelisk came into sight.  Finally, he was able to destroy it with his lightning, and the Light Dancers that remained in his vicinity made for the north.

After dispatching another shaman, Julius grabbed
the now familiar pendant that hung about its neck, and donned it himself.  This seemed to shield him from detection again, and he reached the next obelisk quickly.

After destroying it, he made for the next one, but was discouraged by the sounds of explosions and thunderclaps coming from the north.

“Hamiltus is desperate and uses his most powerful spells!” he cried aloud.

The number of Light Dancers increased as he reached the northern neighborhoods.  Finally he reached the lines where the warriors were making a final stand.  Only a few dozen remained.

Julius fought with vigor, and killed several score of the creatures until there was a pause in the action.

“Where is Hamiltus?” cried Julius, as he searched the faces of the survivors.

“He fell not long ago,” was the reply.

Julius cursed
loudly and his thoughts went to his new wife.

But a fresh wave of Light Dancers charged down the street at that moment, returning his attention to the battle.

He covered the retreat of the remaining warriors, and then vowed to personally kill every remaining Light Dancer.   He killed several hundred more of the creatures, but they defended themselves when he got close to them, and eventually he began to tire.  As he felt his strength waning, he destroyed the remaining obelisks.  His final thought was that too many Light Dancers had escaped from the City—and that he might never succeed in honoring his vow. 

His warriors found him lying near the final obelisk he had destroyed.  They feared him dead, but he had passed out from exhaustion.
  His next memory was a warm bed in the keep and beautiful Ornella at his side, bravely tending to him despite the loss of her father.



Julius shifted his weight to his other side, and discarded the fine linen bed sheets that had covered his legs. A sleek figure stirred in bed beside him and rolled over to face him. Julius took pleasure in regarding Ornella. The sleep of the prior moments that still reflected on her face did not dim her dark beauty.

"What troubles you
, love?" Ornella asked in a soft voice.

"
You are kind to ask of my troubles on the anniversary of your father’s death."

"
You know that I have accepted his death.  I still feel a great sadness—but it was an honorable death.”

Julius leaned down and kissed her forehead
. “You are my treasure,” he said.

She grabbed his arm tenderly.  “And you are mine,” she replied.

Julius was content to let those words resonate in the ensuing silence.  They were infused with a familiar certainty that comforted him, and distracted him from thinking about his frustration over the governance of the City

“You still didn’t answer my question,” she said teasingly.

Julius rose and strode out onto the balcony of the bedroom.  He looked down over the City from many stories above, and took comforted from the host of flickering lanterns that still burned at this late hour.

But all was not well in the City.  Other wizards had blossomed in the new economic system
, which allowed them to procure their spell materials with ease, and even share knowledge with one another through various wizard guilds.  Voices of opposition now seemed to flourish, where once Julius’ voice had been singularly influential.

An irregularity in the ordered rows of white-washed buildings visible across the lake caught his attention, and h
is eye strayed to a lone ruin that marred the otherwise well-kept appearance of the eastern district.

The She-Devil had struck again.

He turned back to Ornella. “We have done so much, yet these petty wizards now argue with me incessantly, and that damned Devil still terrorizes us.”

Ornella nodded sadly
. “I figured these would be the thoughts that trouble you.  Think about your successes, and let your confidence stem from those thoughts.”

“I’d like to.  But I am struck by something.  In my desert
, we were nomadic.  Our system of Emirs and Senechals worked well, but we were never as numerous as we are now in the City.  And we never had so much wealth and power.  In the desert, dissension with the Emir would threaten the survival of the tribe, and was not tolerated.  Here…things are different.  People are idle, and their minds run wild with discontent.  What am I to do?”

“
Most of the people are happy.  You are too focused on a few strident voices among the many.”
              Julius strolled back into the room.  “The sad part is these people don’t even understand my vision.  They think that we’ve achieved it, when in reality we’ve barely scratched the surface.  We’ve scarcely organized our City, yet no one thinks about the thousands of worlds that lie in the heavens!  Think of the empire we will build!”

“Even your
father did not achieve that, Julius.  Is such an Empire possible in our lifetimes?”

“Yes, Ornella.  With this Oberon
substance I found in the new western land, I believe it is.  But I must have peace and quiet, and time to research.  I must disengage from these distractions.”

Ornella was silent for several moments.  He turned to her and could see that his words had shaken her.

“I will have to silence the dissidents.  I will disband their guilds and give them a choice—join my wizard guild and work with me, or leave the City!”

Ornella frowned.  “Do you think that’s wise?  There may be strong opposition.  Even violence.”

“Perhaps—and the prospect does trouble me.  But it can’t be avoided.”

Ornella was
again silent, and Julius could see skepticism on her face.  This annoyed him, which led his mind to another grave matter.

“And I must deal with this She-Devil!”

“Julius, no!  Remember my father’s campaign against her.  She is a force of nature, and not to be meddled with by mortal men.”

“Am I not the Son of a God?”

“Even your father died eventually.  And you almost perished when you fought the Light Dancers.  There are limits—even to your power.”

“You must tell me
her legend again.  There must be something I’m missing.”

Ornella sighed.  “Again, my love?  I tire of the tale.”

“Please, Ornella.”
              “Fine.  Legend has it that the City is supported above the Maker’s Fire by seven pillars.  These seven pillars of rock are constantly consumed by the Maker’s Fire, and therefore the Red Robed Man created seven earth spirits to continually re- fashion them.  As the fire unmakes the pillars from the bottom, the earth spirits remake them from the top.”

Julius brooded in the corner as Ornella continued.

“When your father sought to drive the Red Robed Man from the City, he devised a plan to tempt one of the earth spirits away from her work, destroying one of the pillars in the process.  He spoke to each of the spirits in turn, until he found one that had an unfulfilled desire.  She had seen the people that walked the surface, and admired their ability to sire children.  She desired a child of her own.

One day the Dead God visited this spirit, who
is named Amarank, and promised her she could have a child despite the fact that the Red Robed Man had said it was forbidden.  She did not believe the Dead God initially, but he was still favored by the Red Robed Man at that time; and eventually she succumbed to his lies, and agreed to allow him to take her under his power.  As soon as she did so, the Dead God put her to sleep for a day, and her pillar failed, which nearly caused the destruction of the City.  The Red Robed Man had to sacrifice himself to save his creation, and the Dead God ruled over the City in his subsequent absence.”

Julius felt the icy tentacles of melancholy gripping him, but then he remembered his recent campaign to bind the Witch Crags
region to the City.  There had been something unique about the vale above the caves where he had placed a Wand of the Imperator to bind the land.  That vale, and the caves beneath it, had literally teemed with life energy.  In fact, he had interwoven that life energy with the Wand’s Imperial power to bind the Witch Crags more powerfully.

“
It is said that the most effective form of persuasion is to make the other party desire that which you desire,” Julius said tentatively, as the seeds of an idea took root in his mind.

“That is true,
” said Ornella.

“What if I offer this Amarank the
one thing we know she desires?” he cried, standing suddenly.

Ornella stood a
nd came to him.  She grasped his hands and looked up into his eyes.  “Husband, please tell me you did not mean that!  How would such a dark act be accomplished?  Surely you don’t mean to…”

Julius looked down at her.  She
was his treasure.  But he was a God, and had a responsibility to his City.  “When a man is at risk in the desert, he is sometimes forced to do abhorrent things to survive.  So it is for me now, though I fight for the future of a civilization and not merely for my own life,” he said, doing his best to sound conciliatory.

He saw a look of abject despair cloud
Ornella’s features, and she responded with a vitriol that surprised him. “If you’d ravished me on that first night when I dropped my robe, you wouldn’t have done worse to me than this.  I thought I was marrying a man of principle!”

She spat at him, and then fled from the room as he saw tears streaming down her face.

“She has the children now,” he thought, comforting himself. “My energies now serve a greater purpose than our marriage.”



Merit launched out of his chair, toppling it over in the process, and nearly causing the fragile old book to fall to the floor.

Gwineval mentioned something about a demon lurking under that vale!  And Hemlock
is trying to recover the Wand that bound the Witch Crags to the City!

Merit rushed as quickly as his short legs would allow.  He had to find Gwineval so that he could warn Hemlock!

But wait!  The secret!

Merit stopped in his tracks.  He didn’t want to betray his promise to Hemlock—even though he still felt that she had no right to have asked for that promise.  But she was in danger.  And he now had information about what she might be facing in those caves.

But will Gwineval be able to scrye with her before she encounters the demon?

He wasn’t sure.  He knew that
scrye sessions had to be preplanned by both parties (only Safreon had ever been able to do otherwise—and that was when he used the Wand of the Imperator).

Merit paced back and forth for several minutes.  Finally, he reached a conclusion.

If there’s a chance this information could help Hemlock ,then I must inform Gwineval.

He picked up the old tome carefully and rushed off to the upper floor.

Chapter Eleven

Hemlock usually felt sullen when she was underground, but something about these caves gave her confidence.  Tored was out in front, she was behind him, followed by Renevos, and then Otticus.  She had wanted to lead, but quickly deferred to Tored once she realized that her experience navigating cave systems paled in comparison to his.

The flicker of the torchlight against the limestone walls was cheered by the presence of regular pockets of dolomite, which were beautiful veins with a quartz-like appearance.  The play of the light caught the many square edges in the dolomite, creating a sparkling effect which Hemlock found to be very pleasing to the eye.

They backtracked a few times to stay on a descending path, but otherwise Tored’s guidance was unerring.  Hemlock also gave input a few times when she sensed a stronger aura of magic emanating from one passage as opposed to another.

One potentially troubling development was the
Oruk tracks that continued to manifest on their path, and reflected the passage of more and more of the beasts.  This was a matter of grave concern for Tored, but, again, Hemlock felt strangely unperturbed.

None of them spoke very much, other than the occasional curse
at some misstep from Renevos, which was often followed by an indirect verbal barb from Otticus.

“Do not mistake the forced proximity of this mission for fondness
on my part, my boy—or an excuse for becoming over-familiar,” grumbled Renevos after one such incident.

Otticus just laughed, and Hemlock could tell that the young man’s cheery demeanor was already
beginning to win Renevos over.

Some minutes later
, Tored raised his hand and the group stopped.  The low roar of the burning torches masked a lot of the sounds around them, but they were able to hear the echoes of dripping water.

They felt a small rush of air on their faces and an eerie blue glow appeared for a moment and then vanished.

“What was that?” whispered Otticus.

Renevos
shushed him.

Tored looked back at Hemlock and recalled their short conversation about the malicious force Tored had sensed the prior night.

She wasn’t sure how to respond, so she just looked at him until he turned back.  They waited several minutes in silence.  Then Tored motioned for them to continue.

After another hour of walking
, they turned a corner and saw the rough limestone turned to finished granite at the edge of their torchlight.

Tored turned to Hemlock
. “Is this expected?”

“It could be the chamber of the Wand, but I don’t think so.  It still feels distant to me—like
it’s many miles below us still.”

Renevos walked forward
. “This could be a fortification built by the wizards after Julius placed the Wand.  I understand that the witches invaded the caves several times in an attempt to dislodge Julius’ guards.”

“If that’s true
, then there could be traps.  We’ll need to be even more cautious,” said Tored.

They crept forward until they walked side by side in a twenty foot wide passage.  The walls were scarred and pock marked.  They all understood the likely source of that damage.

After they walked about a hundred feet, the passage opened up into a large room.  The ten foot ceiling of the passage also opened up, and no ceiling could be seen in the room.

They slowed. 
Something caught Hemlock’s attention on the walls of the passage just before they gave way to the chamber beyond.

There were large, graceful, arcing patterns carved into the stone.  Something reminded
her of the Imperial magic she had witnessed in Gwineval’s chamber before she left, but as she studied the patterns, she was unable to discern anything other than the fact they were magical.

“There are magical runes at the edge of the passage,” she said.

Tored immediately halted.

Renevos and Otticus looked at them, but shook their heads in ignorance.

Hemlock verified magical power was feeding the runes, but the arcs and angles were completely incomprehensible to her.

“I don’t know what to do here,” she said.

“Maybe they’re too old to still work,” said Otticus.

“No, I can sense that they are still powered.  I just can’t figure out their nature.  It’s the first time this has ever happened to me.”

They stood and studied the runes for several more minutes.

“Should we double back?” Renevos asked.

“This feels like the right way,” said Hemlock.

“I imagine the wizards thought this was a strategic point to fortify.  It is likely that it’s not easily
avoided,” said Tored.

Renevos nodded
. “So what to do, then?”

“I will dash through and see what happens,” said Hemlock.

“Hemlock, no.  Why don’t we throw a rope between the runes and see what that does?” said Otticus.

“We could do that,” said Hemlock.

“Wait,” said Tored, “look at the pock marks on the walls around us.  I think there’s evidence that whatever the effect of these runes is will be destructive, and it will affect the entire hall rather than just the part near yonder chamber.”

“Oh, good point,” said Hemlock
. “Well, what if you all stand back in the caves and let me run up alone?”

“I think we should ward ourselves and then all run through together,” said Renevos.

They all considered that for a few moments.

“I agree,” said Tored.

“OK with me,” said Hemlock.

Renevos stood back and cast a spell on each of the three in turn, causing a shimmering blue field of energy to enclose them. 
Then he invoked a field around his own body.

“I made the spell fairly strong, but it still may not stand up to a powerful, direct hit.  I advise that we all move as quickly as possible,” said Renevos.

Hemlock took the lead as they all crept slowly toward the runes.  The torchlight revealed a finished granite floor extended into the room, but little more.  Hemlock looked for any other runes or evidence of traps, but did not find any.  When they had reached a distance of about twenty feet from the runes, she gave the signal to run.

The silence was broken by the roar of battle magic as scores of pale energy bolts flew toward them from the interior of the room
directly ahead of them.

Hemlock was able to avoid several of the bolts, but one group came toward her in a cluster and she took a glancing blow as she sidestepped into the room and out of the path of the magic.

She turned in time to see Tored, Renevos and Otticus dash into the room on the other side of the passage from her.  Renevos was being supported by both men, and blood was streaming from his knee.

“Was he hit?” she cried as the magic subsided.

“Yes, but the magic barrier held.  He fell and cut his knee on a rock,” said Tored.

Hemlock was relieved and turned to inspect the
areas of the room that were revealed by the torchlight.

Four raised statues were visible in the center of the room, facing the passage.  Each of them was mounted on a six foot pedestal, and each depicted a wizard holding a rune laden trident.  It was clear that the magical bolts had originated from the statues.

Hemlock strode toward the statues; the rear of the room came into view.  About fifty feet from the statues there was a stone stair that rose to a balcony fortified with a granite wall that was broken up by a sequence of slender slits.  There was a shadowy exit visible behind the wall atop the balcony.

Hemlock could sense Imperial magic in the statues, and she perceived a trail of magical energy going across the room, up the stairs and out the distant doorway.

“I think we have a magic trail to follow to the Wand now,” she said.

“I see nothing, young lady, but I will defer to your talents,” said Renevos as he tested his leg under the burden of the wound and the small bandage Tored had applied.

As Hemlock neared the statue, her magical affinity directed her attention back to the runes at the edge of the hallway.  They were clearer now, and she could perceive the attack energy in them—but they were still somewhat distorted.

Becoming curious, she assayed the statues to ensure that there would be no danger, and then climbed onto
one of the pedestals.

Looking at the runes from that height and angle brought them into perfect focus.  They had been carved in perspective.

That’s a clever and effective trick that I’d best not mention to the wizards.

“What are you doing?” asked Tored.

“Nothing,” said Hemlock, jumping down to the floor again.

“We’re lucky those bolts were meant for killing
ghosts,” said Renevos, “otherwise I might not have made it.”

“You have to make it, old m
an.  What else am I here for except to escort you around?” said Otticus.

“Be silent!” snapped Renevos, but
there was a small smile in the corner of his mouth.

After Hemlock determined
the stairs to be safe, the group climbed them and exited out of the passage on the balcony.

The finished granite gave way to unfinished limestone again, but after the incident in the previous room
, Hemlock’s mood wasn’t as positive as it had been.  This was further reinforced by Tored’s observation that the Oruk tracks they kept finding were getting fresher.

About thirty minutes passed before they heard echoing gusts of air ahead of them.  Tored slowed their pace and soon the passage they were following entered a vast chasm that extended above and below them as far as their light would
show.  Their path crossed the chasm along a narrow walkway that varied between three to five feet in width and was about fifty feet long.  It looked treacherous but navigable.

They got out ropes and tied themselves together before setting out along the precipice.  As they reached the midway point of the crossing, Tored gasp
ed.

Hemlock
saw an apparition running toward them.  Its eerie glow was recognizable; it was the ghost of the fallen Tanna Varran warrior, Umra Vyle.

“NO!
Begone foul spirit!” cried Tored, reaching for a spear that wasn’t there and nearly stumbling over the edge of the precipice.

Hemlock grabbed the heavier man by the arm and managed to stabilize him as the apparition disappeared a few feet
in front of Tored.

“
Tored, that was Umra Vyle!” said Hemlock.

“Yes, it is as I feared,” said Tored.

“You suspected this?” said Hemlock.

“Yes, but I didn’t mention it for fear of encouraging his ghost.”

“Listen, maybe we’d better discuss this after we complete the crossing,” said Otticus nervously.

Tored started forward again.

When they reached the safety of the other side of the chasm, Hemlock asked, “Why is his ghost haunting you?”

“This is not unheard of amongst our people. 
Umra Vyle’s death must have left his spirit restless, and his thirst for revenge on me has prevented his passing on to the next life,” said Tored grimly.

“What can we do to get rid of him?” asked Hemlock.

“If one of our shaman were here, there might be some options.  But since I have effectively banished myself from my people, I am not confident that anything can be done, short of uncoupling this land from the City and leaving.”

“All the more reason to complete our quest
, I suppose,” said Renevos.

“Beware of the spirit,” said Tored, “I don’t think it can harm us directly, but it will try to startle us and cause us
injuries or worse.  We must be wary of it.”

The group continued to follow the trail
as it led them through a dizzying array of passages. Tored was relieved the burden of guiding their path was lifted from his shoulders.  Renevos paused and pulled out a small hourglass, which seemed to flow at the same rate, no matter the angle it was held at.  Hemlock sensed the magic emanating from the object.

“Time remaining until our next
scrye,” Renevos muttered in response to Hemlock’s curious look.

“How long?” Hemlock asked.

“The better part of a day.  It is early afternoon on the surface,” he responded.

“What happens if we find the Wand sooner?” she asked.

“We wait,” he said.

They walk
ed for several hours, until the passage they were in widened to a large cavern filled with stalagmites and stalactites.  They proceeded cautiously until Tored raised his arm in alarm.

Hemlock heard a strange shuffling sound echoing through the cavern.  No sooner had she heard it
than it was gone.

“That was an
Oruk at the edge of this cavern,” whispered Tored.

“Did it leave?” asked Hemlock.