The Wizard's Tower 02

by Peter Last

  One member of the evil host detached himself from the rest and flew toward where Rita stood. As he approached, the being removed his helmet to reveal the most beautiful face Rita had ever seen. Light shone from his face, making his features look all the more beautiful, and Rita was shocked to stillness by the sight. The being landed beside her and dropped his helmet on the ground. He glared at the man in golden armor across from him and looked as if he would like to kill him.

  The man in golden armor ignored this new person and kept his eyes focused on Rita. Ever so slowly his arms rose until they extended toward her, inviting her to come into his embrace.

  “Rita,” he said when he finally spoke. His voice was warm and inviting, and Rita found herself wanting to run straight into his arms, but something held her back. “I have been searching for you for a long time now,” the man said.

  “This man is your enemy,” the shining being behind Rita said. His voice was powerful and full of concern. “Do not let him deceive you.”

  “Come to me, Rita,” the man in golden armor said. “I love you and have been searching the whole earth to bring you back.”

  “Lies, all lies,” the man behind Rita spoke. “He is trying to deceive you, so that you will follow him. He does not love you, or he would not ask you to come to him. Ask him; he knows that pain and suffering are what you will find there.”

  “Come to me, Rita. You are heavily burdened, but I will give you rest,” the man in golden armor said.

  “Rest? Ha! That is a lie, and you know as much,” the man behind Rita accused the man in golden armor. He stepped past Rita and confronted the man directly. “All that awaits her on the path you have chosen for her is suffering. Tell her the truth. Oh yes, I remember now. You don’t want to tell her the truth, or she would not follow you.”

  “So, you wish to sway the girl with your lying tongue and sweet-sounding words,” the man in golden armor accused as he shifted his gaze to the shining man. His eyes flashed with an anger that startled Rita. “Your meddlesome ways are very trying, and I will deal with you soon. Mark my words, snake, your defeat is at hand.” He turned his eyes back to Rita, and again she saw the love in them. “I am the Way; I am Truth; I am Life. There is only one way to eternal life, and it is through me. I love you, Rita, and if you will but accept, you can have that life.”

  “There are many ways to eternal life, and none of them are through you, you power-hungry liar!” the shining man shouted. For the first time since his arrival, Rita saw a trace of anger and darkness on his face, but it was quickly replaced again with a look of goodness. He shuffled to his position behind Rita and began to whisper in her ear. “This man is a fake and a fraud. He has nothing to offer but misery, but I can offer you something greater. I can give you eternal life like he promised before. I can give you unlimited power; anything you want, I can give you.”

  “Rita, trust me,” the man in front of her said. “You know deep in your heart that it is I who speaks the truth, not the man behind you. Come to me, and you will indeed find rest, for my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”

  “Listen to what he is saying,” the man behind Rita said and uttered a curse. “He wants to lay a yoke upon your neck and force you to carry his burden. I want to do no such thing to you. He wants to enslave you, but I will set you free.”

  “Do not think that lying lips can give you true freedom,” the man in front of Rita said. “Only the truth can set you free, and I am that truth.”

  “Listen to that babbler, spinning his lies like webs to draw unsuspecting people into them,” the man behind Rita said. “You know you have already rejected him, now end this thing. Draw your sword and kill this bothersome nuisance.”

  Rita looked at the man in front of her, but he said nothing at all. He simply stood in front of her with his arms outstretched toward her, begging her to come to him.

  “End this thing now!” the man behind Rita hissed. “Draw your sword and run him through. It is the only way you will be rid of him.”

  Slowly, almost against her own will, Rita began to draw her sword. Inch by inch it slid out of the sheath until she had pulled the full length of its blade free. Carefully she gripped the hilt in both hands and held the weapon in front of her. The man behind her continued to whisper in her ear, urging her to drive the blade into the man in front of her, but when she looked into his eyes, she found she could not. Tears sprang to her eyes and began to run down her face, blurring her vision.

  “KILL HIM!” the man behind Rita shouted in her ear. The vehemence in his voice was obvious now.

  Rita shook her head in despair and dropped the tip of the sword to the ground.

  “There is only one way that you can be free of this liar,” the man behind her went on in a more reasonable voice. “The holy scripture says that we must put evil far from us. We must kill it so that it cannot harm us. Do it, and be free of this evil.”

  Rita screamed in anguish and drove the sword forward with all her might, and in that moment everything became clear. The man in front of her sank to his knees, Rita’s sword buried to the hilt in his waist between the edges of his breastplate and belt. His arms were still stretched out toward Rita, and his eyes still had the love that had always shone from them though now it was tainted with sadness. There was no surprise on the man’s face, nor was there anger. He simply shook his head slowly once and then fell headlong in front of Rita.

  A cackle of victory burst from behind Rita, and she turned to see the man who had once shone with light, changing. His face lost all its beauty and contorted into a hideous, leering mask. He gave one last howl of delight before jumping into the air and flying to where his army had finally gained the victory over the angelic host.

  Tears flooded Rita’s eyes again, and she sank to her knees in front of the man she had just killed. She bowed her head in shame and wept openly over the choice she had just made. She now saw that the man lying before her was everything he had said he was. The man behind her had been the liar and had tricked her into killing the only hope she could ever have. As the hopelessness settled over her, she crumpled to the ground and continued to cry.

  Rita awoke to find herself crumpled on the floor, crying. She knew of the choice she had made; even if it was subconsciously, she had still chosen, and she would have to live with her decision. The flow of her tears increased as she thought about the man in golden armor, the only hope she used to have. She had turned her back on that man, and knew now that she could never go back.

  Ten

  Timothy watched Lemin prepare to drop through the hole in the floor. The ten foot plunge would be easy for him but more of a problem for Timothy. Well, Lemin had yet to lead the wrong way, Timothy thought as the elf gave a reassuring grin before disappearing. With a shrug, Timothy dropped through the hole; as he fell, he experienced the most unusual sensation. A stone floor smashed the air out of his lungs, and he rolled onto his back and gasped for air.

  “You alright?” Vladimir asked. Timothy could see him through the hole in the ceiling above him.

  “That depends,” Timothy said. “Am I still small?”

  “You look normal to me,” Vladimir said and swung his legs through the hole. He dropped through and landed beside Timothy.

  “Do you need a hand up?” Vladimir asked, extending his hand.

  “Please,” Timothy rasped.

  Vladimir hauled Timothy to his feet and helped him to where Lemin was standing. Soon all the magicians had escaped from the half-way hall and congregated in the passage directly below it. This hall was not enchanted. It led into a small antechamber. The room contained only a few chairs and a small table, and they passed through quickly. The room beyond appeared more promising; it was large, at least thirty feet by thirty feet, and had a number of furnishings. Bookshelves covered the walls while desks littered the floor. Couches and chairs provided places to sit, and there were three chests at the far end of the room.

  “We should spread out and see if there's anythin
g useful in here,” Timothy said.

  “It seems unlikely, but it's worth a shot,” Lemin said.

  “Be watchful of booby traps,” the orc said. “I don't like having to use my axe to cut us out of them.”

  A faint chuckle went up from the magicians as they spread out and began to examine the contents of the room.

  Vladimir migrated immediately to the bookshelves and searched through the titles. He loved books more than almost anything in the world, but right now what he wanted to find was a secret passage that would get them out of here. The classic trigger was a false book that, when pulled, would reveal the passage. At random, he pulled several volumes from the shelves, but to no avail. He was about to begin searching the desks when he noticed the book in his hands. Though the size and shape of the book was not familiar, he recognized the title. The word Molkekk was scrawled across the cover in elaborate gold script. Vladimir thought unexpectedly of the book Timothy claimed to have discovered in Belmoth. If the older magician was to be believed, the two volumes bore the same name, but even so, they had more differences than similarities. While the volume from Belmoth had been large and grey, this one was rather thin, with a black leather binding. This book also gave no indication as to who had written it. Was it possible that two people had written two different books with the same name? Timothy was the only other person he knew of who had seen the other book, and Vladimir hoped he would have some insight. He spotted his friend a few shelves over and carried the book to him.

  “Do you remember that book you dug up in the library at Belmoth?” Vladimir asked, extending the book in his hands.

  “It was named after Molkekk,” Timothy answered, taking the black book. “What's this have to do with...What is this?”

  “I don't know,” Vladimir admitted. “I found it on one of the shelves. Do you think it could be the same book you were reading in Belmoth?”

  “It's too thin,” Timothy said. He flipped through the pages. “Nothing is the same.”

  “Do you think it's just a coincidence?” Vladimir asked. “Maybe we should hold onto it. We could examine it more closely when we get out of here.”

  “An artifact from the dark tower itself?” Timothy asked. “It seems kind of risky. We should ask Lemin what he thinks.”

  “What I think about what?”

  Timothy and Vladimir turned to find the older magician standing behind them.

  “This book,” Timothy said, extending the volume to Lemin. “Vladimir wants to take it with us, but I'm worried it may have some enchantments on it.”

  “As far as I can tell, the book is clean,” Lemin said after a cursory scan. “This room, on the other hand, is not.”

  “What do you mean?” Timothy asked as he tucked the book into a pocket. “I don't feel anything.”

  “And neither did I, initially,” Lemin said. “Even now it's hard for me to determine exactly what it is. I told you what Molkekk's favorite spells are. At the moment, one of them is making it extremely difficult for me to focus. I can tell there is an enchantment of some sort, though what it is I don't know.”

  Timothy looked around the room and saw the rest of the magicians were intent on their search. Vaguely, he realized it made no sense for them to stay in here. Who had suggested that they search one stupid room in this infernal tower? The magic here was strong indeed. Not only was it making it difficult to focus, but it was distracting them from their main purpose.

  “We're getting out of here right now,” Timothy told Lemin. In a louder voice he called to the rest of the magicians, “Everyone gather up. It's time to move on.”

  A resounding crash echoed through the room. Both doors had slammed shut of their own accord. Timothy was about fed up with this place. He formed a spell and flung it at the nearest door. He expected the door to explode outward or, at the very least, for sparks to fly when the spell hit a ward. Instead, nothing happened. The thick oak door simply absorbed the magic.

  “Trying to leave so soon?” a booming voice asked. It appeared to come from everywhere at once.

  “That was the notion,” Timothy snapped before he realized what was going on.

  “That is so impolite,” the voice said. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the magicians’ feet came off the ground, and they began to float upwards. “You just arrived. Welcome to my world. Come in; float around; stay awhile.”

  “Who are you?” someone asked.

  “Molkekk, of course,” the voice answered. “Who else would you expect to be speaking to you from the walls of this tower?”

  “Well, for a second there I thought you were just a voice in my head,” Timothy said. He felt Lemin grab his shoulders and rotate him until they were looking at each other. The half-elf pointed to his head then to his eyes. Timothy understood immediately; this was yet another illusion.

  “Do the voices in your head often make your float?” the voice taunted.

  “Only after I've had a significant amount of alcohol,” Lemin said. He was distracting Molkekk, and Timothy took the cue. It took some snapping of his fingers and waving of his hands, but he finally got Vladimir's attention.

  “Keep him busy,” he mouthed. It took a few tries, but eventually Vladimir understood.

  “I saw the way you escaped from my half-way hall,” the voice was saying. “Very clever, I will admit, but you’ll have to be much more clever than that to escape this room.”

  “And exactly what are we escaping from?” Vladimir blurted out.

  “Normally I would let you figure that out by yourself, but I'll tell you to make the game more interesting,” the voice said. “I call this my utter logic room. In here, logic is supreme; if you can prove something logically, then it is true. I have already proven that gravity does not exist, which is why you are all floating.”

  Vladimir continued to distract the voice with conversation, and Timothy hoped it would allow him to work unnoticed. To dismantle a spell required either a lot of brute force or an understanding of it, and Timothy was not confident that the group could compile enough raw power for the task. He would have to try to move outside of the illusion, to force himself to see through it, before he could destroy it.

  It took all his energy and will power, but slowly his surroundings became translucent. He could see the magicians as they currently were, standing in a circle on the tower floor. There were no bookshelves, desks, or other furnishings; the room was completely empty. The spell itself was of a typical design, but Timothy would have to remain outside of its influence to dismantle it. One wrong thought or move...Suddenly, Timothy was floating again. He had slipped up and been taken in again by the illusion. The voice was still talking, so Timothy pumped his arms, trying to swim through the air. The going was slow, but eventually he reached Vladimir.

  “Can you beat him?” Timothy asked.

  “What do you mean?” Vladimir asked in confusion.

  “Beat him logically,” Timothy explained. “Can you beat him at his own game?”

  “I might be able to,” Vladimir said. “It'll be difficult since he's made all of the rules, but I can try.”

  “Beat him,” Timothy said.

  Vladimir rubbed his chin as he thought, trying to compile an argument. A smile crossed his lips, and he interrupted the voice.

  “You said you proved that gravity doesn’t exist. What about the bookshelves and desks? What about the chairs?”

  “They are all bolted to the floor,” the voice said.

  “I don't buy it,” one of the magicians said. “What about everything on the desks? Why isn't that stuff floating?”

  “It is all fastened to the desks,” the voice explained. “There were several among your number who attempted to move these items. Ask them, if you do not believe me.”

  “And what about the books?” the orc magician asked. “I took several of them off their shelves, so they clearly aren't attached. Why aren't they floating?”

  “They are,” the voice said. “Take a look for yourself.”

&nbs
p; Sure enough, on closer examination, the books were seen to be floating several inches off of the shelves they had been resting on.

  “What about the ink in the inkwells?” the orc magician asked. “Why hasn't it floated out of them?”

  It occurred so quickly that Vladimir was unsure of whether it actually happened, but for a split second, everything flickered.

  “And here's a good question,” Vladimir said. “Why did we float to the middle of the room? What stopped us here if there really is no gravity? Why are we not walking around on the roof?”

  “You ask a lot of pesky questions,” the voice said.

  “And you're avoiding the issue,” Vladimir responded. “If the ink doesn't float free of the inkwells, clearly gravity hasn't been disproved.”

  “But if gravity hasn't been disproved, we shouldn't be floating in the air,” a magician pointed out.

  “And yet, we are floating,” Vladimir said. “So if by all rights we shouldn't be floating, but we are, that means this isn't real.”

  “But if it's not real, what could it possibly be?” Lemin asked. He was openly taunting Molkekk now.

  “I believe we call that an illusion, in the magician's world,” the orc magician said. “Though I think wizards might call it a failure.”

  In an instant, everyone was standing on the floor again.

  “It's all an illusion,” Timothy said. The room's furnishings disappeared, and the door at which Timothy had flung his spell earlier was nothing more than a smoldering hole.

  “And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how you do that!” Vladimir said with a sarcastic bow.

  The magicians didn't linger in the room. They left through the hole Timothy had created and began to wander the long, confusing halls of the tower. For hours they walked, never encountering enchantments or spells or anything, for that matter. Hall led to hall, all of which looked exactly the same.

  “We've been here before,” a magician said finally.

  “What was your first clue?” another shot back irritably. “Was it the fact that we've been walking in circles for the past several hours?”