Hemlock And The Wizard Tower (Book 1) (46 page)

Her thoughts turned then to her mentor, Safreon, whom she had watched burn alive in the blue magical field.  She still hadn’t fully registered the extent of her loss and could easily imagine that he might still be out there in the world, seeking to win her freedom from the Tower.

He’s gone
, she tried to reason to herself.

But something inside of her simply would not let go of that lingering image of him as her rescuer.

Thinking of Safreon, she began to sob quietly.

"Why did Gwineval take the Wand from him and let him fall into the fire?" she raged, grasping at a post of the bed and pulling on it violently before gaining control of herself.

Her thoughts were turning dark and she instinctively reached for her sabres–but her hands felt only the delicate fabric of her dress at her waist.

Cursing, she sat down hard on the bed and brooded.

There was a knock at the door.

"Come in," she called, deciding against responding with only a recalcitrant silence.

Falignus entered the room.  Hemlock’s view was drawn again to his eyes, and their gold flecks.  Her gaze then moved to his pronounced cheek bones and chin and his generous lips.  Despite his slight pallor, he was very attractive and looked imperial in a long black cloak and gray pants, secured at the waist with a bright red sash.

"I trust that you slept well," he inquired.

"Yes, I did, quite well, compared to that dismal cell."

"Yes, that was, as I said, an unfortunate necessity."

"What of the magic that guards over me now, is that more of the same?" she asked darkly.

"Indeed it is.  I’m sure that if you put yourself in our shoes, that you would do the same.  I trust that it is proving effective?"

"I don’t know, I haven’t tried to escape yet," she countered.

"Ah yes," he replied distractedly, "do let me know how that goes when you try it."

Moving closer to her, he engaged her in direct eye contact, which she met defiantly.

"I’d like to ask you about certain recent events, which might prove somewhat uncomfortable for you to recount."

"Fine," she said, looking away.

"Did you, in fact, kill the Witch?"

"Yes."

"If you don’t mind me asking, how did you kill her?"

Hemlock was numb inside and saw no point in withholding the information that he asked for.  Although she was in a black mood and almost didn’t care what she told Falignus, something inside of her restrained her from mentioning her out of body experience while battling the Witch.

"I was broken and the Witch was gloating over me.  As she leaned in close, her forked tongue was lolling about in triumph.  I mustered enough strength to sever her tongue and it killed her."

Falignus smiled and nodded.

"Yes, I suspected as much.  I always wondered why her tongue alone marred her perfect features.  I think she became too enamored of her own voice and concentrated too much power in it and in her tongue.  When you severed it, it destroyed that power and she could not maintain her form without it."

Hemlock did not respond.

Falignus, his good humor blunted by Hemlock’s impassive response, paused. "How do you feel about Gwineval?"

"I intend to kill him," she replied.

"Is that so?  Is there a reason?"

"Yes, my mentor and friend," here she paused, trying not to choke up with grief, "Safreon…  Gwineval caused his death by stealing that Wand."

"The Wand of the Imperator," Falignus stated.

"Yes."

"So your friend Safreon had the Wand of the Imperator?"

"Apparently."

"You say apparently.  Didn’t you know?"

"I knew once we got to that Tanna Varran town.  Tor Varnos is what they call it.  Anyway, I knew at that point.  He never used it in my presence prior to that."

A responsible part of Hemlock’s mind stirred and started to consider how much she should tell Falignus.

But what does it matter now?
  She just didn’t care enough to conceal anything.

I don’t care if the wizards kill every Tanna Varran alive, as long as I kill Gwineval
, she thought and then felt guilty for thinking it.  The Tanna Varrans had been fair and honorable, and she knew that they didn’t deserve to die.

"Did this rogue wizard Safreon use the Wand of the Imperator to achieve the transformation that Gwineval used against us on the battlefield?"

"Yes."

Falignus was silent for a few minutes.  He sat in an armchair and gestured for her to sit.

She shook her head negatively, moved to the window, and looked out over the Elite district again.

"Hemlock," he said, breaking the silence.  Hemlock noted a certain weight to his voice that was different from before.

Looking at him, she noted that he wore a self-deprecating smile.

"Do you know that I find you enchanting?" he asked.

A certain part of her, a downtrodden and careworn part, thrilled at his words.  But she felt the weight of death on her shoulders–so many deaths.

"It doesn’t matter."

"Forgive me, you are in mourning.  My remark was inappropriate," he replied formally, the weighty tone gone from his voice.

"We will see to your needs here.  Request anything that you wish," he said as he made for the door.

"How long will you hold me here?" she asked, suddenly thinking about the future again.

Falignus paused in stride.  Not turning, he responded. "Until we both determine what path we will walk, and whether those paths will be the same or different."

"I have a relative in the Warrens – could I get word to her?" Hemlock asked.

Falignus turned.  "If you refer to your sister, then relax in the knowledge that she is safe."

Hemlock cast a questioning glance at him.

"In the dream, when I came to you, you had a portrait with her.  I subsequently inquired after her and discovered that she was gravely ill.  I have seen to it that she has received care and is now doing well."

Hemlock was stunned.  She was grateful, but realized that this gave him leverage over her.

"You had no right to intrude," she ventured unconvincingly.

"She would have died had I not."

Hemlock turned to the window, as tears rolled down her cheek.

She heard the door click closed behind her and knew that she was alone.

It was clear to her that Falignus was attempting to get close to her.  She welcomed it on some level, for she felt a primal bond with him and an undeniable attraction.

But what are his ulterior motives?

…

The next day, again in the evening, Falignus returned to her.  Knocking on the door, he entered at Hemlock’s response.

"I’d like to take you on a tour of the Tower today," he informed her.

"I’ve already seen it."

"This time will be different; you won’t have to sneak around."

"Sounds boring," she replied lightly, surprising herself with her tone, which she hadn’t intended to be playful, yet had sounded so to her ear.

"Undoubtedly, but at least it will punctuate the boredom of remaining in this chamber all day."

"True enough.  I accept."

"Good, then follow me, please."

Hemlock found his formality oddly endearing.

They exited into the hall, and Hemlock was surprised at the lack of escort.

Falignus was quick to notice her observation. "Don’t worry, I’ve taken precautions."

"Of course," she answered.

He smiled at her and she was surprised at how becoming his smile was.  His features were normally beautiful, but cold and cast in a slight pallor.  When he smiled, however, it bathed his features in a pleasing warmth.

He led her down a hall to an arched entry to a stairwell.  They descended several floors and exited into another corridor.

"We will follow a group of initiate wizards today, as they tour the Tower and receive their orientation," Falignus explained, as they
walked down the corridor and entered an ornate audience chamber.  It was a vaulted room finished in polished marble and granite,
making an impression on Hemlock that it was
designed to intimidate visitors.
 
Support columns, which ran the length of the hall in two rows, were adorned with sculpted statues of
wizards
.
 
Falignus and Hemlock had entered via a side entrance, but Hemlock saw that t
he visitor to the hall had to approac
h through a far door and walk forward between the two rows of statues and under the unseeing gaze of the stone wizards, who gave the illusion of standing guard like
wizened sentinels.

Gathered in the chamber were half a dozen young teenagers, several years younger than Hemlock.  They all wore uniform gray robes, which differed greatly from the festooned robes worn by the other wizards. 

They had been talking amongst themselves, but stopped instantly once they saw Falignus approaching.

Hemlock saw a few furtively glance her way, but they did not dare to look for more than an instant, with a powerful Wizard in the room with them.  Their eyes were soon all reverently downcast.

In a few moments, another Wizard entered the room; an old, overweight, bookish type, with what Hemlock thought was a cruel cast to his features.  He ventured a withering look at Hemlock before bowing obsequiously to Falignus.

In an overloud voice he exclaimed, "We are joined today by our Lord, Falignus, head of the Seventh Circle and leader of the Guild."

A student looked up at Falignus, awestruck.

"Avert your gaze!" shouted the fawning old Wizard, brandishing a wooden wand threateningly.

"That’s not necessary, Grubbins," chided Falignus, but the older Wizard did not seem deterred and cast several condescending looks at the young wizards.

Grubbins informed the students, Hemlock and Falignus that he would lead them upwards through each level of the Tower, explaining that each floor had a laboratory, living quarters and a common area, as well as a library and a workshop.

The students were shown the first floor only briefly.  Hemlock imagined that the First Circle was in disarray after the costly battle at Tor Varnos, and the brevity of the tour of that floor confirmed her suspicions.

Grubbins made it a point, however, to stress to the student wizards that service in the First Circle was "…amongst the most honorable in the Tower, suited to the more adventurous mind and hardy constitution."

They returned to the hall on the first floor, and then climbed the central stair to the second floor.  Hemlock still felt that the foyer was oppressive.  Seeing the Tower under these circumstances felt odd to her after her initial experiences there.

They entered the library on the second floor, and this time the young wizards were given a more lengthy description of the Second Circle.

Grubbins showed the students some of the core tomes of Second Circle study, which was focused on using magic to automate tasks and perform construction.

One student asked what Hemlock judged to be a particularly insightful question, and Grubbins turned red with anger, for he clearly was overmatched by the young student and was greatly embarrassed.

As Grubbins started to reprimand the student, Falignus quickly intervened and began a brief lecture on the topic, commanding the undivided attention of everyone in the room.

Soon, he had asked everyone present to engage in a small experiment.

Hemlock watched Falignus as he interacted with the young
wizards
, giving them pointers on technique as he made his way along the tables
where they worked
.
 
He was often caustic and sometimes harsh with the students, but there was always an underlying compassion which tempered the vitriol.
 
Some students colored when he challenged them, but none protested or complained, for each seemed to feel that he ultimately ha
d their best interest at heart.

A student of slight stature approach
ed
Falignus and his retinue then.
 
The student was carrying a tall stack of books which obscured his vision, and he did not see the group in front of him
, nor the important personage it contained
.
 
As the student neared,
Grubbins
, standing with Falignus, verbally lashed out at the young initiate Wizard
.
"Halt and make way
,
you insolent buffoon
!" he cried.

"Wait
,
" interr
upted Falignus, restraining Grubbins
and gesturing for
everyone
to make way for the overburdened student
instead.