Hemlock And The Wizard Tower (Book 1) (5 page)

Hemlock asked Safreon how this Julius had the power to bind the Witch Crags to the City.

"Nobody is certain of that," Safreon replied, "but I think it has something to do with the magic of the Imperator."

Hemlock wasn't certain what that meant, other than being aware of the tales of the tyrannical Imperator and his rule over the City in times gone by.  But she was content to let Safreon continue.

"Julius formed the Wizard
Guild with the intent to organize
a group
of
wizards
who
would be able to use
their combined magical power
to
safely
harvest
the
Oberon
from the Witch Crags
.
"

"
They were successful
,
and they used the
power of the
Oberon to quickly
become
the most singularly potent
wizards
in the entire
City
. 
But something happened to them as they developed.  Flush with their new power, they began to desire even more. 
They approached all
of the
other
wizards
in the City
and delivered
an
ultimatum:
use of Oberon outside of the Wizard Guild was to be forbidden and punishable by assassination
.  It became clear very quickly that Julius was a visionary, and his vision was one of dominance for himself and his new organization.
"

"The wizards
gained in power and influence in the City and though they were quick to anger and merciless in their retribution, they always stopped short of being truly megalomaniacal.  Fo
rtunately for everyone else in t
he
City
, their quest for more magical power was their driving ambition.  All other ambitions were pursued only as surrogates to that ultimate aim.  Therefore, though their demands could be seemingly arbitrary and often extravagant, they did not subject the peoples of the
City
to any organized subjugation.
"

"But l
iving
under the shadow of the wizards
was like living on the
outskirts of a dragon’s lair:
never being sure when
the d
ragon would emerge to inflict some sorrow on your
life,
but with enough
long intervals of peace and
sanity that life was bearable,
and at times even modestly joy
ful
.
"

…

As
Hemlock
approached the
fourth
hand she glanced at the metal cylinder that
was
the inner support
of
the circular stair
case
.  It was polished to a reflective sheen and she found herself gazing searchingly
at
her
reflection
.  She saw uncertainty
in her features
.  She
looked over
her high cheekbones
and blonde hair,
and
was conscious of her beauty
.  She despaired
suddenly
that her bloodline might end
there and then
on
what she suddenly worried had become a
fool’s quest.
  But then she thought of the needs of her sister, and the thought calmed her.
 

She regained focus and was careful not to
linger too long
.
Taking a few more steps, s
he found herself facing the
fourth hand and
hearing the reluctant screech of metal forced into motion by magic
, as the hand animated and opened
. 

She
chanced a quick glance upward and
saw t
he source of the other o
range
light which
shone from
the
room
above her; but she could not focus on it well enough see what it was.  She noted that the room above had
stone walls and sweeping granite arches
, however
. 

But her attention was diverted when the
small mouth
on the palm of the fourth metallic hand
spoke the words of the f
inal riddle: 
"
Some mistake the beauty of this white umbrella flower
,
which masks a fatal power.
"

At hearing the riddle, Hemlock’s
pulse surged
in her veins
and her mind raced
through possible explanations for what seemed to her to be a dangerous coincidence, or worse still, a certain sign of her discovery by the wizards
. 

What are the chances of this?  Could it be a coincidence?  Or is someone aware of my presence here?
she despaired, as she was instantly certain of the answer to the riddle.

She considered w
hat
it
would mean
if someone was aware of her intrusion.
  But
then
she
remembered that she still
had to answer
the riddle. 

The answer rolled off of her
lips easily.  It was
the innocent looking
plant with the umbrella–
like white flowers which housed a lethal poison
.  And it was her name.

"
Hemlock
," she said softly.

As the metal fist closed, Hemlock
vaulted to the lip of the top stair and crouched
; she paused
to take in her surroundings. 
Her mind was
still in turmoil
because of the nature of that final riddle
, but her instincts had taken over and she knew better than to
ignore
them in
dangerous
situations.

The orange l
ight
pulsed, revealing great v
ats of liquid: heated and bubbling with a barely discernable sound.  Behind her and to her right was t
he source of the orange light; the upper torso
of the suspended green Dragon
that
she had seen in the room below.  Turning, she saw that
the great Dragon’s head and upper body
were
suspended with chains as thick as a man’s leg
which
effervesc
ed
with a magical dweomer.  Through
a
bizarre mechanism of tubes
, the liquid from one of the bubbling v
ats was being fed
into the mouth of the Dragon,
which was clamped wide open with a huge iron restraint.  The eyes of the Dragon were open, but unseeing,
though
they
were the source of
the incredibly bright orange light.

Pausing, she took a moment to do a
quick scan for exits
.  She saw that there was
one behind her which she believed corresponded to the door
that she had entered on the floor below. 

There was more shelving in the room, and a great collection of ironworks
, for a large machine lay strewn about the floor of the chamber.  They were covered in dust and cobwebs
.

She noted with a start that the clockwork Gnome sat at the front of a set of massive chain links
,
which
resembled
those
suspending
the Dragon.

Though the Gnome was
motionless,
Hemlock
had the distinct impression that it perceived her.

Her mind went into overload.  She was still trying to consider the implications of the
fourth
riddle and its connection to her, but
she judged that
the Gnome was a more immediate threat
,
and thus
she gave it most of her attention
.

Impulsively,
she stood up and boldly strode toward the Gnome.

"
And who might you be?
"
sputtered the Gnome
in his odd voice
.

She considered that it might be unwise to reveal the connection between her name and the riddle
,
so she answered
using
one of her
street
aliases:
  "I am called Megan. Pleased to be at your service,"
she
said as she gave a small bow–
favoring it over the more feminine curtsey.

The Gnome
pause
d, and then returned his attention to her
after swatting at an errant gear that seemed to spin ou
t of control for a moment on it
s right leg.

"
How did you get in here?
"

"
I had magical aid
,"
she responded.

It seemed to consider that for a moment.

She tried to attune
her mind
to the Gnome.  It was clearly
magical and its aura seemed non–
threatening.  She
detected
magical
energ
ies
of
support and connectivity,
with perhaps a bit of
discipline
thrown in for good measure.

"
We haven’
t had an unannounced visitor in one hundred and four years,"
t
he gnome stated matter
-
of
-
factly.

"Well I am honored at having that distinction," Hemlock
replied.

"My M
asters will no doubt think poorly on your decision to
visit under such circumstances," s
aid the Gnome with a
mechanical sigh
of resignation.

"
Perha
ps they don’t need to know then,"
Hemlock replied with false cheer.

"
You
do
seem nice
,"
stated the gnome
. 

I
t was
difficult
for Hemlock
to interpret emotion
in
the mechanical sounds
of its voice, but she did sense some underlying emotion
. 

"
It would b
e a shame to see them hurt you," continued the Gnome.

"
What is your name?
"
she
asked
.

"
My…
name?"
 

Some springs and valves sputtered to life in the
Gnome’s head,
and a small puff of dust was kicked up around the red conical hat
that
it wore.

This part of his mind machinery hasn’t been used in quite some time apparently.

"
…Yes, I did have a name.  Wh
at was it?  Ah yes, Merit.  I was called Merit."

"
Hello Merit, nice to meet you
."  A
gain
Hemlock
bowed.

"
Likewise Megan
,"
said the Gnome and it rose with some effort and bowed in return.

"
Merit, I’d like to tell you why I came here
,"
said Hemlock
,
trying her best
to seem charming and maternal–
which was difficult
for her to do since she was speaking to an automaton and not a child.  "
I believe the
wizards
are stealing
magic
from the Warrens with one of their devices.  It’s harming our people.  It’s harming my
sister,
in fact
,
and her magical medicines are not working.  I have to stop whatever they are doing.
"

She knew
that
she was gambling here. 
She considered that i
f the
wizards
had the ability to
listen into this conversation somehow
,
then she had laid bare her intentions. 
By doing so, she
probably wouldn’t even be kept alive long enough for torture and interrogation
were she captured.