Hemlock And The Wizard Tower (Book 1) (55 page)

Shouts and cries of combat filled her ears as she decided how to proceed.

Hemlock made a quick move into the smaller passages leading into the Tower, away from the central hall, and toward the wizard’s private stair which led down to the audience chamber, which she had used often in recent days.

As she moved, the carpet and the carnage around her told the tale that some wizards had also retreated along this route.

…

Falignus was uneasy in his own skin.  He sat at the controls of the last of the wizard Harvesters, which was lumbering, along with the last of the Wizard Guild’s combat forces (save the garrison left behind at the Tower) into the realm of the Witch Crags.

He was deeply troubled by Hemlock’s betrayal.  Yet he had not been entirely surprised by it.  He knew that he had romantic feelings for the girl, and that they were probably clouding his judgment.

"I must cast aside these petty feelings and concentrate," he thought, disgusted with himself.

He returned his attention to the tactical planning for the campaign that lay ahead.  A map of the area had been unfurled and was suspended beside him, from the inside of the Harvester’s iron outer shell.

Falignus regarded the map distractedly for a time, before stopping again in frustration.

He was again fighting the temptation to use a spell of prescience.  He craved the insight that it would provide, yet he feared its effects.

Will it disfigure me?  Turn me into a wraith?

Hemlock has already rejected me
, pointed out a cold part of his mind.

The thought of Hemlock and her rejection, was like the aggravation of an open wound.  He reacted angrily to that pain, cursing Hemlock, Gwineval and even the fallen crusader, Safreon.

Finally, his anger and fear rose to a breaking point.

"I must know!" he cried.

He rose and ordered another Wizard to the controls of the lumbering Harvester, as he made for a lower deck of the automaton, where he could cast his dark spell in private.

…

Hemlock
descended the private stair and
arrived in the
audience c
hamber in the midst of a chaotic melee.
 
Tanna
Varrans and w
izards fought at close quarters, with spears and spells having given way to brutal
sword
s
trikes and desperate grappling.

She quickly spotted Gwineval in the fray, for he was
bathed in an odd illumination.

As Hemlock watc
hed, she was unsure what to do.

She saw that Gwineval
held the Wand of the Imperator, and that he was using it
to great effect.
 
He was moving at s
upernatural speed and
delivering fatal blows to many First Circle w
izards, who, as a group, were clearly concentrating their efforts on
slaying him.
 

Siros, leader of the First C
ircle, appeared to be the only force keeping Gwineval in check; his tattoos blazed with a fell light and he was able to match Gwineval's speed and land several savage blows
on the serpentine wizard
.
 

But Gwineval's body
showed
strange new properties: where the serpentine flesh should have been severed under
the force of
Siros' blade, the green scales
instead
gave way, stretching to an impossible extent so that Siros' sword was
almost fully engulfed by
Gwineval's torso
–
and then
the flesh snapped
back
like rubber
, projecting Siros' blade away at an awkward angle, and leaving Gwineval stunn
ed, but miraculously unwounded.

Hemlock, as she stood in the ar
chway of the chamber, saw some w
izards and Tanna
Varran
s
notice her and
regard her skeptically
, before being swept back into the flow of the melee
.
 
She
was still
unsure how to act as the battle raged and casualties mounted on bot
h sides.

Returning her attention to Gwineval and Siros, she could see tha
t Gwineval had killed two more First C
ircle
w
izards and wounded their hulking leader.
 
But Siros fought on and landed another flurry of blows which stunned Gwineval and allowed other
nearby w
izards to land additional strikes on the scaled
,
rogue wizard.

Hemlock wa
s surprised that Siros and the w
izards were putting up such a good fight, but the
n
she recalled something that Falignus had said to her once
–that the w
izards could tap into
the
vast supplies of Oberon in the tower.
 
She guessed that they would have the
magical
power to cast many more spells
within the Tower
than they would
be able to in another locale.

Seeing
that
Gwineval
was faltering under the terrible beating of the wizards
triggered something in Hemlock's mind, and she
finally settled on a course of action.

Gathering her strength she cried a
t the top of her lungs, "STOP!"

Her voice rang out at a volume that astonished her.
 
She realized that she must have unconsciously learned some of the Witch's technique for voice projection.
 
That
realization
scared her a little
bit–all the more because the magic had come unbidden.

Everyone in the room was stunned
by her exclamation and all eyes turned toward
her.
 
The
w
izards and the Tanna
Varran
s
quickly
broke into two groups
that
eyed each other warily while looking at Hemlock for some indication of what was
going to happen next.

Gwineval and S
iros stepped to the fore of their factions.
 
Hemlock
now
stood between the two groups, although still at the
side entrance to the chamber.
She
gathered her wits about her and then strode into the room.

As she did so, a familiar form
emerged from her right
, be
hind the line of Tanna Varrans. 
It was Tored, covered in blood, but appearing unwounded.
 
He nodded in h
er direction and she returned the nod
.

Hemlock was not sure what she was going to say to diffuse the conflict.

As she reached the center of the two lines of fighters, a stir from the direction of the main gate diverted everyone’s attention and she did not speak.

Knights in polished armor were entering the audience chamber in force. 

The wizards began to cheer and both sides began to tense and posture more aggressively.

"WAIT!" Hemlock yelled loudly again, and most in the room settled, even as the knights continued to enter in great numbers.

Hemlock saw Siros make a sudden move and her ears recoiled at a clap of thunder which accompanied a purple bolt that burst from the huge wizard’s fingers with a flash.  This bolt was joined by purple bolts which leapt from every Wizard statue that lined the hall.  More than two score of the purple bolts rang out, some catching an unlucky target in the crowd, but many finding their target, which, along with Siros’ strike, was Gwineval.

Glancing to her right, Hemlock’s stomach dropped as she saw that Gwineval’s features had taken on an earthen hue, and that his lizard-man form was collapsing to the floor of the chamber like a statue–his body locked in some magical rigor-mortis.

"NO!" cried Hemlock without thinking.  She leapt with supernatural speed and strength, the exertion tearing her dress in several places.  She landed with swords in hand on Siros’ broad shoulders.  Siros’ eyes were wide as she stared into them, her blades piercing his chest above the collar bone on both sides.  She watched as the life drained out of the great warrior; and he crumpled to the floor, Hemlock rode him down and landed on her feet, looking over the assembled wizards and knights with a challenging gaze.

None in the room could meet that gaze for long, except for one, who strode forward from the rear.  He was an older man, dressed in a Senate tunic.

Hemlock was not surprised to see that Samberlin had accompanied the knights.

"Now things are finally becoming clear," said Samberlin in a loud and confident voice, which was heard by every ear.

The old man reached the front of the Wizard and Senate line and bowed to Hemlock.

Hemlock nodded.

She turned back to Gwineval and saw that he was still frozen on the floor, being tended to by Tored.

"Does he live?" she asked.

"He does for now, but he is weak.  He will need a great deal of healing magic," said Tored.

"Tend to him immediately!" she cried, and then turning to the wizards, she said, "You help, too!  And no more tricks!"

Hemlock’s eye was drawn then to an item which lay discarded on the floor, having fallen out of Gwineval’s hand.

Hemlock realized that all eyes were now focused on the Wand.  None in the room dared to move.

Samberlin strode slowly toward the Wand, appearing unperturbed.

Hemlock tensed as she feared that the old Senator might try to take the Wand for himself.

But he looked at her and smiled.

Gesturing toward Hemlock and pointing at the Wand, he said, "Take it.  You, before all others here, should claim it."

Hemlock considered his words.  It had been Safreon’s first and then Gwineval had wielded it.  Was it now her part to wield it, and what would she do with that power?

"Take it, Hemlock," Samberlin urged again, more insistently this time.

Hemlock decided to heed his advice simply because she could not countenance any other person taking it.  She strode forward, kneeled, and grasped the Wand.

Her mind reeled instantly, and energy reverberated through her body, causing her to bolt upright.

Hemlock’s gaze turned inward and she felt warm all over.  She could no longer see the audience chamber of the Wizard Tower or the wizards, knights or Tanna Varrans.

Instead, she saw the surreal space that she had seen before when she had nearly been killed by the Witch.  The space spread out all around her, seeming infinite in its magnitude.  It was like an endless net of consciousnesses, each related to hers but living in a different realm.  Some of the consciousnesses sent messages to her, which she saw as impossibly rapid energy bursts that travelled over a web of fine energy tendrils.

These consciousnesses, which were few among the many, welcomed her, saying that she now was foremost amongst her kind in power.

Hemlock wondered at this idea, as the vision started to fade.  Hemlock concentrated and the vision became strong again. 

"I have control over it," she realized.

She let the vision fade, and gradually her awareness returned to the familiar space of the audience chamber.

Hemlock felt the renewed pressure of the floor on the soles of her feet–a pressure which she realized had been absent a moment before.  Had her feet left the floor during her vision?

All around her, the assembled fighters were regarding her with awe.

Even Samberlin, standing close as Hemlock made eye contact with him, looked surprised.

Hemlock saw the Senator gather himself, and stand erect.

"Who among you still does not understand?" he asked, in his clear and strong voice.

No one responded.

Hemlock
was very conscious of the warmth of the Wand in her hands.  She was also still dimly conscious of the strange place that she could travel to within her mind.  She knew that with the Wand in her possession, she could return her mind to that realm at will, should she desire to do so.  Her instinct told her she would be able to summon help from those other beings that lived in that realm whenever she needed it.

Samberlin was speaking to the assembled fighters. "This is a time of change and we must not shrink before the force of this change, no matter how unexpected it may be.  I come before you today to proclaim this: that Hemlock is the new leader of the Wizard Guild."

There was a stunned silence, and then a great ruckus erupted from the wizards.

A w
izard, bolder than most, stood forward and yelled accusingly
,
"Why should we follow
Hemlock?
 
She's not even a w
izard.
 
Falignus had her imprisoned prior to leaving with the
expeditionary force!"

Samberlin
turned his attention to the man
.
"Yet here she is
,
free
–
can you deny that some force
works within her and that it has seen her through great trials
?
 
Whatever differences she may have had with Falignus were in a
nother
context.
 
Circumstances have changed.
 
You would probably all be dead at the hands of Gwineval were it not for her.
 
Not one among you can
now
stand against her will.
 
You have no leaders left, either you follow her
,
or the Senate or
the
Tanna
Varrans will take control of the T
ower.
  Is that what you want?"

"There is another choice
,
" yelled a voice from the direction of the open drawbridge.
 
The throng of Senate knights parted as a dark figure strolled forward.
 
As he emerged from the shadows and drew back his hood,
Hemlock recognized him with a start;
the sneering features of Falignus
were
now visible to all.

"Interesting
,
" muttered
Samberlin.

Falignus looked at Hemlock and the sneer left his features. "Hemlock, you have the Wand.  Now is the time to take your place at my side."

Hemlock shook her head sadly, "You know I can’t," she said.

Falignus reddened with anger.

"
Samberlin
, let us unite our forces and kill these Tanna
Varran
s while we can!"
Falignus called boldly.

Hemlock turned to Samberlin to see how he would react.

Samberlin
's
gaze lingered on Falignus and then
moved slowly across the room as he appeared to consider the
offer, which was delivered forcefully enough to fall just short of being a command.

"I think not!"
Samberlin
pronounced in response, at which several
wizards
gasped.

"You old fool!" cried Falignus.  "I’ll destroy you and the entire Senate!  Remember the Night of the Ninety-Nine Tears!  It can happen again!"

"Oh, I have thought long and hard on the events of that night, and it is precisely because of that night that I will not support you any longer.  The wizards will no longer hold the City in a strangle hold.  They will no longer control all magic," replied Samberlin.

Falignus smiled coldly, as great black batwings extended from his back and spread out many feet in each direction.

"So, you’ve had this little plan all along, have you, Samberlin?  Well, it is amusing to see it finally revealed.  You think that you are so smart.  Do you think that Hemlock will protect you from me?  She’s just a girl: greatly talented, but untrained and raw.  Where she now dabbles in the old magic of the Imperator, I shall master it.  When I return to the City, all who oppose me shall be reduced to ruin.  My new order cannot rise from the City as it is now, that much is clear.  All must be destroyed, and I will start
afresh
."

Falignus began to withdraw from the room, as all considered his threat.

Several knights looked toward Samberlin as if wondering whether to attack the retreating Wizard, but Samberlin gave no such order.

"You wizards who have followed me loyally, do what you must to survive until I return.  Do not despair, for the wait will not be long!" cried Falignus.  He then turned and leapt out the front gate and into the air, his bat wings beating strongly as he flew out into the dark night.

…

Hemlock sat in a fine ivory chair, feeling out of place in her torn, blood-stained dress.  The stench of the battle in the Wizard Tower still clung to her.  A potato sack had been placed under her so that she wouldn’t stain the fine embroidered seat of the chair.  The room in which she sat was in a wing of a large home in the Elite district.  White, painted wainscoting lent the space a restrained dignity which Hemlock admired.  It was the home of the Duke who had taken in Mercuria under the direction of Falignus.

Her sister sat across from her looking worried and radiant at the same time as Hemlock stared at her.

Hemlock had just arrived and had been reunited with her sister, who now seemed like a different person to Hemlock.  Hemlock had always perceived Mercuria through the lens of Mercuria’s illness.  Now that that illness had apparently been cured, Hemlock was able to appreciate her sister without feeling uneasy or apprehensive about her taking sick; Hemlock was left feeling a profound sense of peace. 

She had demanded to see her sister as soon as Falignus had fled the battle at the Wizard Tower.  Over the objections of Samberlin, Hemlock had insisted on going straight to Mercuria in order to make sure that Falignus hadn’t harmed her.

As she sat, content to simply look at her sister without speaking, Hemlock recalled a small exchange that she had upon leaving the Wizard Tower to find Mercuria.  She had left the Tower under the control and command of Tored, whom she trusted.  As she had walked past the gritty warrior, he had said to her,
"I hope we did not go through all of this simply to crown another Witch Queen."

Hemlock had responded dismissively, but the comment was still on her mind.

Returning her attention to the present, she realized that Mercuria was speaking to her. "Hemlock, I can’t imagine how you must have suffered.  Is it true that you have been declared the new leader of the wizards?"

"Yes, although I can’t say I’m very comfortable in the role," responded Hemlock.

There was another period of silence.

Hemlock again noted the warmth of the Wand of the Imperator.
"Look, I need to take you back to the Wizard Tower until I resolve...a situation."

Mercuria looked taken aback as she replied: "I...I don’t know what to say.  I suppose you must have your reasons, but I...I am frightened at the prospect of leaving.  I’ve been happy here and these people have been like a family to me.  Can’t I stay here with them?"

"No, it’s too dangerous.  Do you remember the wizard, Falignus?  He knows that you are here and he is now my professed enemy.  I need you to stay somewhere that I know is safe–at least for a time."

Mercuria’s brow furrowed and she looked increasingly upset to Hemlock.  Hemlock realized that she had not seen Mercuria angry for many years–but she felt certain that this was the emotion that was now rendered on Mercuria’s face.

"Does it matter what I want?" Mercuria asked in a voice that did not reflect her apparent level of emotion.

"What do you want?  You have to appreciate the danger that you would face if you stay.  And not just you–your new family would be in danger, too."

"I understand that.  That’s why I’ll go back to our apartment in the Warrens and wait this out."

"Absolutely not, Mercuria!  Falignus saw our apartment in my dream and he might try to find you there.  I need you under guard for just a few days," Hemlock argued.

"Hemlock, I don’t want that.  I’ve tasted true freedom for the first time over these past several weeks.  I’d rather die than be confined again–whether it is confinement by disease or by fear."

"Mercuria, I am tired and I have great deeds yet to do.  I can’t worry about this any longer.  You will do as I say."

Mercuria let the full force of her anger show then.
"I knew th
is life was too good to be true!
  And now I finally see my sister again, only to realize that she is hardly t
he same person that I remember."

"
You have changed and
I have changed,
and neither of us
for the worse.  I have power now
–
power to keep you safe permanently.
  Please let me use it!
" Hemlock pleaded.

"
I see the power in your eyes
,
Hemlock.  It scares me.  It is too much power."

Hemlock watched emotions play over her sister’s face.  She noted that Mercuria was young and just at the threshold of womanhood.  Hemlock could see that her sister was struggling to assert her own will, despite wanting to make Hemlock happy.

Hemlock's every thought pleaded with Mercuria not to be naïve and stubborn, but she did not remonstrate her sister out loud.

Hemlock saw Mercuria’s jaw set and she knew that her sister had made up her mind.

"I won’t do it, Hemlock.  If someone wants to harm me, then so be it," Mercuria stated obstinately.

Hemlock lost her patience for debate.

"Samberlin!" she called into the foyer.

The Senator had been waiting at a respectful distance with the Duke, who now acted as Mercuria's stepfather.  Both of the men entered the parlor, where the two sisters sat.

"Samberlin, take Mercuria back to the Tower–use force if necessary."

Mercuria shot an incendiary look at Hemlock.

"Hemlock, who are you?" cried Mercuria.

"I don’t have time for this now, Mercuria!"

"I don’t even know you anymore.  You haven’t even taken the time to explain things to me."

"Right, because I don’t have the time.  I know that you will be safe.  That means the world to me.  But I have to go away to face our enemy soon."

Mercuria looked pleadingly at the Duke, but his facial expression made it clear to Hemlock that he would not attempt to intervene.

Samberlin had two knights take Mercuria by the arm and escort her out of the room.  The Duke followed, leaving Hemlock and Samberlin alone.

"So you’ll go after Falignus then?" he asked.

"Yes, it’s the only way.  I know what he’s planning to do."

"He’s going to retrieve another Wand?"

Hemlock looked at the Senator sharply. "How did you know?"

"I didn’t.  But I guessed, based on his comments.  I gather that few could face you now without an item of similar power."

Hemlock did not deny the assertion.

"Hemlock, let us return to the Tower and meet with the others.  All must be made to feel a part of this decision, even if it is already made."

…

Hemlock felt a bit awkward as she sat at the jet black meeting table of the Wizard Council. Samberlin, Tored and the wizard Miara were seated with her.

Hemlock noted the deep yellow bruising on Miara’s face that had resulted from the blow which she had delivered only hours before.

Hemlock was weary after the events of the evening, and her stamina was still diminished from her time in the wizard’s prison cell.  But Samberlin had insisted that they meet to discuss their course of action before anyone retired for the evening.

"I believe that I know what Falignus will attempt to do," Hemlock told the assembled leaders.

"He mentioned to me that he believes there is another Wand in the forbidden desert to the north.  I think he will seek out the wand in hopes of using it to defeat me, and then you all as well," she continued.

Hemlock looked around the table.  Tored nodded and grunted.  Miara raised her head and her eyes to the ceiling, as if in thought.  Samberlin nodded slightly, his gaze still distasteful to Hemlock, even though they were now at least circumstantial allies.

Miara made eye contact with Hemlock. "Why not wait for Gwineval to recover?  The healers say that it might only be a few days."

"You saw Falignus’ wings.  He will be able to reach the desert quickly.  If we wait any longer, then we risk letting Falignus gain the Wand that he seeks.  I fear that Falignus will be able to use the Wand more effectively than I will.  He seems confident in that," Hemlock replied.