Hemlock And The Wizard Tower (Book 1) (13 page)

Seeing no presence within the room, Hemlock crept to the
archway
and looked around
.
She saw
another exit across
from her
and a door on the wall toward the inside of the Tower.  Looking up
,
she could see that the room culminated in a ceiling far above
,
where
large iron
hinges connected the chains to the roof at the apex of arched supports.  Arrayed around the hinges was a network of walkways
consisting of iron floor plates and twin hand rails
.

Eyeing the chains and the causeways above, Hemlock considered her options.

The stair must be close
,
but one of these chains could buy me several floors at once.

Her mind made up, she approached one of the spheres that wasn’t moving.  She took a moment t
o attune herself to its magic. O
nce again
she was taken aback by
its power and complexity
, which was
well
beyond anything that she typically encountered in the W
arrens.  There was a layer of
force similar to divination
,
there was the
unmistakable mark of suffering, and
an aura of
sensitivity
was present as well
.  The magic
was passive, however.  She did not feel threatened by the dweomer.

With a
fleeting remembrance
of the handsome Wizard in the red sash, she
crouched low
near the ground and launched herself lithely atop the sphere so that it barely moved as it bore her weight.

The chain
that supported the sphere was heavily oiled. The substance
appear
ed
to be applied at the top of the hinge by workers on the causeways and allowed to
seep
down the length of the chain.  Due to this, it was heavy in places but
practically
non

existent in others.

It would be a difficult climb because of the oil, but more so because
she
felt compelled
to try and get to the top before that
sleeping
Wizard might wake and set
off an alarm.  She hoped that t
his unconventional route would
save
her several critical minutes if she had been
,
or was about to be detected.


Gwineval watched the climbing form of
a
young woman
from a hidden alcove in the towering Chamber of Measurement.  He was impressed with her abilities.  If he hadn’t been looking for her
,
he wasn’t sure tha
t he would have even seen her.  She was an expert at stealth.  H
er mot
ions were strikingly steady and
regular
;
her
slim
form always kept
hidden
in the shadows of the great chain upon which she climbed.

Safreon
had said that she was a promising pupil, but it seemed that he had understated her abilities
.  Gwineval again felt his pulse surge at the thought of Safreon and
the
Wand of the Imperator.  If he truly possessed this item
, and knew how to use its power,
then he wielded a power that could rival
the might of the most powerful wizards in the Wizard Guild

These were the Seventh Circle wizards, who aside from their lone representative in the Tower, were said to still exist in seclusion and in defiance of the passage of many more years than a natural body could possibly endure.  The
Seventh Circle
wizards
were said to exist predominantly in spirit form and to have lived for centuries. 
Gwineval wasn’t sure how powerful the Seventh Circle wizards were, beyond their new youthful leader, Falignus
.
  But what he knew of the power of the Wand gave him confidence that their power, no matter how great, could not be very much beyond that of the Wand.  His mind began to consider whether the Wand would enable him to defy Falignus and the tyranny of the Seventh Circle and the Crimson Order, but he quickly chastised himself for becoming too hopeful.

Gwineval considered that he had to get to the top of the Chamber to meet Hemlock.  The noise of
the machinery would hopefully
shield them from unwanted observation.  Safreon had
warned him that she was headstrong–
but Gwineval felt confident that he could reason with her once he called her by name and mentioned
her friend
.


Hemlock reached the upper causeway after a harrowing climb.  Her limbs were exhausted and she wasn’t sure that she had been very stealthy. 
S
he had
managed
to put some distance between her and the room where she hoped the mysterious
,
handsome
Wizard still rested undisturbed.

She took in her surroundings:
the causeways all led to a
sizable
room
which only spanned a single floor
.  Several large machines were connected to the huge chains which connect
ed
with the
cogs and gears on the machines.  Though some of the machi
nes clearly were in operation–
she could see spinning apparatus and whiffs of smoke or steam being
expelled from several of them–
she could not hear any noise.  The eerie quiet of the lower room
, only punctuated by the creaks and groans of the chains,
extended all the way up here.

Moving
silently and low to the walkway, Hemlock approached the room.

As she stepped across the threshold her senses were assailed by the sudden noise of the machines churning and expelling gasses with
many
a savage hiss. 

This caused a surge in her nerves and she sprung over to a large iron cauldron which held a quantity of a greasy, dark liquid.

Her eyes discerned motion then, from the opposite side of the chamber.

A door opened and in strode a figure in a long yellow robe.  She noticed something odd about the gait of the individual first:  a strange motion of the head with each step forward.  Also, there was an
unusual structure to the head:
a protrusion of the jaw.

Hemlock realized then that there was not
a human figure under that robe–
but some monstrous parody of a man.

She c
ould see the face clearly now,
as the beast approached her position.  Her pulse
raced
and she took in the demonically deformed features with the cool detachment that she often felt in moments of true peril.  The mou
th was large and dominated the face, and it was
filled with a row of small, sharp teeth on
both the upper and lower jaw
.  There were two nasal holes, oval shaped and angled, and they were close to the mouth.  Two large glassy eyes peered toward her position under the shelter of fleshy eyelids.  The complexion was greenish and scaled.

The creature stopped short and raised its arms as if to parlay.  In fact, it appeared to be speaking after some fashion but a loud hiss from one of the nearby machines drowned out the sound.

In an instant, Hemlock drew
a knife
and dashed at the creature.  She closed the distance of
twenty
yards in mere seconds and the creature appeared startled as it still was trying to communicate.

She threw herself upward and thrust the knife with both hands
,
going for the throat.

The creature was amazingly quick
,
however
,
and managed to throw itself backwards with astonishing speed.  Her
knife
tip caught the
point
of its lower jaw
,
but it was an inconsequential wound.

As she drew her arms down and into her body
,
the creature’s tail came around and struck a powerful blow to
her
right shoulder – causing her to careen sideways into one of the machines
.
S
he
impacted with moderate force,
her clothing shielding her flesh from a scalding impact.

She dropped into a fighting stance and regained her balance as the creature again
seemed to be
trying to communicate.

As she prepared to strike
once more,
she made out a familiar word despite the heavy distorting effect of the creature

s mouth and large forked tongue.

"
…Safreon
."

She paused
,
but didn’t let down her guard.  She analyzed the figure for any lapse in its defenses as she struggled to understand its odd form of speech.

"
…sent by Safreon of the Warrens
,"
she managed to understand as the creature spoke.

"
What about him?
"
she demanded recalling that lizards usually had soft and vulnerable bellies.

"
Hemlock, I have been sent by Safreon to
rescue you from the wizards," continued
the creature 
in
its odd
,
falsetto hisses.

"
Why should I believe that?
"
she continued in
a level
tone.

"
Because it is your only chance at survival
,"
replied the creature with a tone of impatience.

"
What are
you?  You wear a Wizard’s robe–
aren’t you a Wizard?
"
Hemlock asked.

"
I am a Wizard and
also
a friend of Safreon.  We have spoken in the last year about affairs in the Warrens and also events i
n the Wizard T
ower.  He contacted me tonight when he deduced your foolish
intentions to attack the tower,"
explained the lizard man in a lecturing tone at which Hemlock inwardly bristled.

She was becoming uncertain about the situation and this led to a feeling of extreme discomfort.  If she trusted this…monster… to be a friend of Safreon then she was putting her life in its
hands

Am I ready to do that?

She felt confident
that she could kill it–
but it did claim to be a Wizard which would introduce unknown dangers.

"
You obviously know things about me
,"
she
replied
"
but that doesn’t mean that you are an ally.  You may well be lying.
"

"
We don’t have time for this – I fear you have been detected already by others not so friendly
as I
.  There are other watchful eyes in the Tower and they would not treat you as kindly as I
will
.  Safreon has revealed to me that he holds a powerful magical artifact that I greatly desire to learn more about.  That is the only reason I am risking my life to try and rescue you from certain death.  Safreon made this b
argain with me just minutes ago," r
esponded the creature coolly.

Hemlock always felt secure when she felt
that
she
understood
a situation
and that she could control it
.  Her mind was trying relentlessly to maintain a grasp on this encounter but it was like trying
to grasp sand with her hands–
the harder
that
she tried
to grasp,
the more she felt control slip through her fingers.

"
What is the plan?
"
she asked
,
stalling for more time to assess the
loyalty
of the creature.

"
The plan is that we will meet…
"
began the Lizard Man when Hemlock sensed the opening.  Her mind was reeling, she felt powerless and
the opening was too enticing–
it was like she was drowning
and thrashing
and
then her arm hit
a piece of debris floating in the ocean
,
after a shipwreck. 
H
er mind could not resist trying to regain control of the situation by grasping at the opportunity.

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