Hemlock And The Dread Sorceress (Book 3)

by B Throwsnaill

  With her internal balance restored, she announced her decision. “We’re going. “

  Mercuria squealed with glee then restrained herself when she noticed how upset Tored looked.

  “This is short-term thinking, Hemlock,” he said.

  “So you think. Nevertheless, I’ve made my decision.”

  A heavy silence ensued until Tored broke it. “How will you get there?”

  “According to what Merit told me, Penelope can fly between worlds. I’m sure I can convince her to take us.”

  “And how many do you think she can take?” he replied.

  “When I spoke to Merit, he said the old books refer to griffins carrying two people between worlds. And Mercuria is light.”

  “But I’m not,” Tored said softly.

  “You would join us even though you don’t like the plan?”

  “Yes. There is nothing here for me without the two of you.”

  Hemlock’s heart leapt at his words. “Fine! It’s decided, then. I’ll talk to Penelope about taking us three. It’s really like two and a half, if you think about it.”

  “That means you won’t be able to return with your mother.”

  “True. But if war is coming to the City, maybe that’s just as well.”

  With all of them in agreement, Tored rose to begin his daytime patrol. Hemlock decided to join him. They both hoped to resolve the mystery of the marketplace before their impending departure.

  …

  Hemlock considered the implications of the previous day’s events as she walked the still empty streets of the Warrens, shielding her eyes from the glare of the morning sun. Nothing out of the ordinary had occurred there since her unusual experience in the marketplace the prior morning.

  She discussed the risks with Tored, but decided to attend the meeting of the Wizard Council to inform them of her plans to leave the City. She anticipated that Gwineval would react negatively to the news, but it still felt right to her.

  Gwineval should be able to contain Jalis until I return.

  A hooded figure caught her attention as it darted across her path several blocks away. She recognized something about it, and without thinking, she took off running at top speed toward the alleyway. She tried to be quiet as she took a wide turn into the shadowy, tight passage between two houses. But her speed caused her feet to skid a little on some soft sand, and the figure ahead of her turned its head sharply to the side.

  Hemlock was too quick for the figure as it reached for its knife. She had a sabre at its neck before it could draw. With a flick of her wrist, she used her other sabre to throw back the figure’s hood.

  “So, we meet again, Jasper,” Hemlock sneered as she recognized the face she revealed.

  “What are ye doin’? I’m headin’ back to me mum’s.”

  “Let’s see how the night was for you,” said Hemlock as she roughly patted him down.

  A dull copper cup fell and clanged as it hit a rock on the ground. Hemlock was about to give up when she felt something in his breast pocket. She withdrew a glass vial filled with a glowing liquid.

  “And what do we have here?” she asked.

  Jasper’s beady eyes darted around desperately. “I haven’t done nothin’,” he managed.

  “But you clearly intend to do something, again. You’d better start talking, or I’m taking you to the watch station and you’ll be spending the day in a cell.”

  Hemlock had spent time in station cells in her youth and knew why Jasper’s eyes widened in fear at her threat. The City Watch were not kind to their prisoners—especially those from the Warrens. Jasper faced not mere imprisonment, but a sequence of fearful interludes between furious beatings.

  “Yer one of us! You can’t do that to me!”

  “Then tell me who gave you that vial and why.”

  “What good will it do? I’m just tryin’ to make some money for me mum.”

  “Right. For your mum. Not to drink yourself into a stupor?”

  “If she didn’t ride me like she does, mebbe I wouldn’t drink like I do. But it’s no matter. I’m just doin’ a job. No more.”

  “Tell me what you know!” Hemlock said, losing patience.

  “Okay, okay. A big guy gave me the vial. He hired me to drink it when the whistle blows today at the marketplace at sundown. That’s all I know.”

  “Come on. Who is this big guy?”

  “I don’t know his name. He’s from the district though—nice white robe and all. I asked him his name and he just laughed. I don’t see him around ‘cept for when this thing goes down. He’s always in the marketplace when it does, and I think it’s him that blows the whistle. That should give you the info you need.”

  Jasper looked around nervously as he saw and heard signs of increasing activity in the streets and the homes that surrounded them.

  “Look,” he continued, “I gave you what you need. You gotta let me go now before we’re seen together. Otherwise, people will figure out it’s me that squealed, and my goose will be cooked.”

  “Fine,” Hemlock said, letting go of his arm, “but you’d better keep your mouth shut. And show up at the marketplace tonight so people don’t suspect anything. I need to have a talk with this ‘big guy.’”

  Jasper hurriedly walked off without further comment, and Hemlock shook her head.

  The kid is more idiot than criminal. Hopefully he’ll survive long enough to figure things out.

  She exited the alley in the opposite direction she had entered and resumed her approach toward the Wizard Tower.

  As she neared the tower, its imposing height dwarfed her, but it struck her in a different way that morning. She realized that she could identify with the tower, and the thought surprised her. She now saw it as a symbol of resistance to DuLoc.

  But will it be strong enough?

  She continued to walk toward it. Soon, the Moat of Acid was visible along with the recently added iron fence that had been installed around it. The fence was not there to protect the tower but to protect the City-folk from accidentally falling into its destructive depths.

  As she walked along the curved road ringing the tower, she saw the Drawbridge of Ninety-Nine Tears. It was down and stood unguarded. And the pikes that once stood along its length had been removed.

  She reached the end of the drawbridge and began to walk across. Her mind returned to the night when she forced her way into the tower. The portcullis and magical gargoyles had also been removed in the months since that fateful evening.

  Hemlock gazed up at the top of the tower. The colored glass windows had been cleaned and gave the tower an uncharacteristically cheerful appearance. She was also aware that the defensive spells that once protected the heights of it from aerial attack had been dispelled.

  Have we totally defanged you? Do you have any secrets left to help us defeat DuLoc?

  Then she remembered the vision she had in the observatory. She found two other Wands located on a distant world and she had seen another tower there—her father’s tower. She looked up at the Wizard Tower again.

  Perhaps your time has passed, after all.

  Hemlock reached the heavy doors of the Wizard Tower and knocked softly.

  The great doors opened, and a familiar face excitedly greeted her.

  “Hemlock, welcome!”

  “Otticus, how are you? Still pulling guard duty, I see.”

  The young First Circle wizard seemed slightly embarrassed by her put-down but shrugged it off quickly.

  “Look!” he said, thrusting his bare shoulder toward her.

  Hemlock was surprised by his invasion of her space, and didn’t immediately understand what he was trying to show her. But as she was about to ask for clarification, something on his shoulder caught her eye. The normally monochrome tattoo he bore, typical of the First Circle, looked different. Now, there was blue and yellow scrollwork amongst the markings and some additional colored runes near the bottom of the bicep.

  “Huh. What’s that all about?” s
he asked, taking a step back involuntarily.

  “Something Renevos and I have been working on. Check it out!”

  As Otticus finished speaking, the colored tattoos on his arms flared, and suddenly he was gone.

  “Back here,” said a voice from behind her.

  She turned in a flash, hands going down toward her sabres, but the sight of a smiling Otticus calmed her nerves.

  “It’s the new teleporting magic Renevos has been researching ever since that encounter with the rainbow cat. He figured out how to enhance our tattoos with a low range version of the spell. I’m the first one to get it. It’s kind of a test. So far, it works great.”

  “That’s amazing,” Hemlock said. “You’ll be very difficult to fight with that power.”

  “Only drawback is it’s tiring to use. I can only do it so many times, and if I’m tired, it’s too much to use.”

  “Still, that’s an encouraging development. I hope things go well and all of the First Circle can use that power soon.”

  “Yea, me too,” said Otticus without sounding very convincing. It was clear to Hemlock that he was enjoying the distinction of being the sole bearer of the new tattoo.

  “Thanks for telling me about it. I have to go. See you soon.”

  “Bye, Hemlock,” said the young warrior, turning back toward the front doors.

  Hemlock considered taking the rear stairs up to the council chamber, but something held her back.

  It’s not my place to use those stairs, anymore.

  She slowly walked up the main stairs, pausing briefly at each floor to look around. She found herself experiencing a heretofore unappreciated affection for the tower and the wizards within it. An inner voice again raised concern about the fate of the wizards after she left for the distant world where her mother and Falignus awaited. But, again, she felt a wave of surety that it was the correct course of action, although the ambiguity of her own motivations still troubled her.

  What will I do when I find Falignus?

  She didn’t have an answer to that question.

  Soon, the council chamber door beckoned, and her thoughts turned to the matters at hand.

  The council members were seated around the large onyx table, awaiting her. A strong scent of soothing incense filled the air—no doubt at the behest of Gwineval, who had grown fond of the scent during his stay with the Tanna Varrans. There were no observers in the bleachers above the meeting floor. Apparently, it was a closed session.

  She looked at the friendly faces and took comfort in their apparent goodwill. Memories of Jalis and his plots were still fresh in her mind. In addition to her friends, Gwineval, Miara and Renevos, three newer faces greeted her. First was Brannor, the new leader of the First Circle combat wizards. He was known as a hardworking fighter who built his strength by tirelessly exercising until he was a match for any fighter in the tower. On one side of Gwineval sat Caetor, leader of the Fourth Circle. He was an expert in invisibility and other obscuring spells. On the other side of Gwineval was Lalpa, the leader of the Sixth Circle of magic. In contrast to the departed Colberth, Lalpa was a disorganized man, but possessed a brilliant analytical mind that eclipsed that of his predecessor.

  Gwineval’s serpentine eyes immediately caught Hemlock’s attention as he moved to bring the meeting to order, though it was just a formality since the room had gone silent when Hemlock entered.

  “Welcome, Hemlock. Please sit,” he said, pointing toward a seat—Falignus’ old seat.

  “I’ve briefed the others on the information brought to us from the mountains.”

  They sat in silence for a moment then Gwineval continued. “I suppose I will start the discussion if nobody else has a suggestion about what must be done. I think we should marshal a force of wizards and set out to drive Jalis from the mountains.”

  “Do we care that much about the mountains?” Hemlock asked. “Or is the goal to destroy Jalis, the Seekers and the rest of the rogue wizards?”

  “Both goals are significant,” said Miara gravely. “The mountains provide vital mineral resources for our spells and economy. There is a store of these resources in the City, but it won’t last forever. We can’t afford to lose access to this region.”

  “Who will guard the tower if we leave to fight Jalis?” asked Renevos, fumbling for his glasses as they dislodged from his long, upturned nose.

  “We will leave a small force behind and rely on the Senate to back us up if there is a surprise attack,” said Gwineval.

  “Samberlin…” hissed Hemlock, Renevos and Miara nodded in agreement with Hemlock’s implied suspicion of the man.

  “I know, I know. But he’s cast his lot with us over Jalis already. Why would he change his mind?” said Gwineval.

  “Samberlin will do whatever he perceives to be in his best interest,” said Miara.

  “No,” said Gwineval, “he acts in the City’s best interest. I believe that.”

  “Not me,” said Hemlock.

  “It isn’t material, anyway. We will leave sufficient force behind to make the tower secure. And we will lock it down until the main force returns. Even Samberlin and his knights wouldn’t be able to siege the tower if so guarded.”

  “What about Samberlin and Jalis together?”

  “And how would they accomplish that when our march would cut off Jalis’ advance on the City? Hemlock, you can patrol in the air for us with Penelope. That should reveal any unexpected movements on Jalis’ part.”

  “Uh, let’s discuss my role in this. I, uh,” stuttered Hemlock, lowering her eyes.

  Hemlock heard a dull slap and knew that Gwineval had slapped his forehead in frustration. “Why do I know I won’t want to hear this?” he murmured.

  “I’m going to take Tored and my sister to find my mother on a nearby world. I won’t be able to join your attack.”

  She heard the groan of feet from a heavy chair as it thrust along the wooden planks of the floor. Gwineval, now standing, shouted at her, “Have you lost your mind? With all of our enemies on our doorstep, you would abandon us? Again!”

  Hemlock felt inflamed by the accusation and met Gwineval’s accusing stare. “I’ve decided to indulge my sister’s wish to see our mother one final time before the coming war.”

  “And what makes you certain that the war won’t be lost in the interim?”

  “Gwineval,” said Miara, motioning for him to sit, but Gwineval ignored her.

  “Remember the last time we stood in the cavern below the tower and you gave me a Wand? You asked me to choose between trusting you to lead us and taking my fate into my own hands with the Wand. I chose you, remember? I chose your leadership over my own. And this is how you repay me?”

  “That Wand wouldn’t have helped you. You know that!”

  “I most certainly do not know that! I took your word for it, but what value is your word when you seem to go back on it whenever it suits you?”

  Hemlock felt her anger rising to meet Gwineval’s, but she tried to control herself. A thought came to her, unbidden, and she gave voice to it without hesitation. “Remember the child of Amarank who we discovered in the chamber where we found that Wand? You never saw it, but Renevos was there.”

  “You mean that abomination kept alive by the magic of the Wand? Yes, I remember the tale. But what of it?”

  “The child spoke to me before it faded away. It told me to think about what had given it its power. It was the product of a union of the lines of the First Wizard and the Imperator.”

  “And?”

  “It implied that I needed to understand something about that union. And I think I do now. I need to do the same thing, I think. I need the power of the lines of the Imperator and the First Wizard to defeat DuLoc. Since the blood of the First Wizard runs in my veins, I only lack that of the Imperator. But we know one who descends from that line.”

  “No, Hemlock,” whispered Gwineval, “you can’t mean Falignus—he perished in the northern desert over a year ago?”

  “Th
at’s the thing—he didn’t die. He changed somehow, but he still lives in the same realm that my mother does.”

  “So you mean to retrieve him?”

  “Yes.”

  Gwineval pounded the stone table. “This is absolute, utter madness!”

  Hemlock shook her head and looked away.

  Miara rose and Hemlock heard her speak calming words to Gwineval. Eventually, he was coaxed back into his chair and the discussion continued.

  “How would you accomplish the travel, Hemlock?” asked Miara.

  “Penelope the griffin can travel between worlds.”

  “But can she take three? And then four upon return?”

  Hemlock felt a wave of uncertainty. She was confident Penelope could carry three, for the griffin was large and Mercuria was very slightly built. But four seemed to be a stretch even for the great beast.

  “I don’t know about the return trip,” Hemlock said.

  “Hemlock, you have to understand the threat that Jalis now represents. When you left last time, he was just a possible threat. But now, with DuLoc directly aiding and guiding him, he might well defeat the City before you get back,” said Lalpa.

  “I doubt that will happen unless you wizards make a mistake. Tored and I estimate we’ll be gone for a few weeks of City time, at most. That will be a few days in the other realm.”

  “How do you know it won’t take longer to recover Falignus? What if he is unwilling to return? Or what if you’re wrong and he is dead?” said Gwineval.

  “I’m not wrong about him being alive. And I know he’ll return to me. He always loved the City and won’t want it to fall to DuLoc.”

  “Hemlock, what if Falignus joins with DuLoc? He was our enemy, remember?”

  “It’s complicated between us. Suffice it to say, I know he won’t betray me,” said Hemlock.

  “So, what would you have us do in your absence?” asked Renevos.

  “I don’t know. Do you think it still makes sense to attack?”

  “We must do what we must. If you leave, perhaps we should negotiate with Jalis and DuLoc,” said Gwineval.