Hemlock And The Dead God's Legacy (Book 2)

by B Throwsnaill

  Hemlock felt her voice rising despite her wish to remain calm. “I expected help though. Instead, you leave all the work to me and spend all of your time researching.”

  “I’ve spoken to you about the power of the Imperial magic. You don’t understand how dramatic the results of my research have been. Let me show you something.”

  Gwineval stepped into the center of the room and drew a small bag from his robe. He unloosed the string on the bag and began to pour its contents onto the stone slabs on the floor. He poured it in a thin line, which he began to curve and weave back over itself. Soon he had formed a complex rune and then he drew two concentric circles around it and connected them back to the rune in their center.

  He stepped into the circle and then began to gesture and chant. A white glow formed around him and then transferred to the lines of sand, causing them to glow. The crackling glow extended out from the circle in a line across the floor toward the wall of the chamber, where it turned upwards and rose until it intersected a thicker horizontal line which illuminated the entire inner wall of the room.

  Gwineval’s feet left the ground, and he began to rise into the air.

  Hemlock was surprised and impressed, but Gwineval’s triumphant look as he floated made her attempt to mute her visible reaction.

  Gwineval frowned at her less than enthusiastic reaction. He then leaned forward, which caused him to float in that direction. As soon as he passed above the outer circles, he fell several feet to the floor, landing hard on his webbed feet.

  Hemlock rose and strode over to the pattern on the floor, which still glowed along with the floor and the wall. She glanced at Gwineval, and, encouraged by his not restraining her, stepped into the circle. Nothing happened.

  “The law I created says that I can fly. But it doesn’t work for anyone else. In fact, the way I’ve crafted it, it will actually prevent anyone else from flying within it. The amazing thing about it is that that rune will last for many days without any additional magical energy. Think about what that means, Hemlock. Take Mercuria. She could create a rune in her apartment that would heal her whenever she stepped into it. And this magic is easy to cast. She could nearly manage it now, given her rather impressive talents. This could free us from our dependence on natural magic!”

  Hemlock pointed to the glowing line of energy on the floor and on the wall. Using her power of magical attunement, she could see that magical energy was flowing from the large channel of power on the wall, down through the floor, and was sustaining the spell that was in force on the floor.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “I’m not sure yet, but these magical ley lines seem to run all through the Tower,” Gwineval replied.

  The ley lines reminded Hemlock of the system of magical energy that she had seen in use in the tomb of Zaringer in the northern desert.

  “It is impressive, but it seems almost too good to be true. If this magic is so great, then why didn’t the Imperator’s culture survive?”

  Gwineval ‘s countenance clouded as he turned away. With a wave of his hand he extinguished the glowing runes and swept up the sand with a dustpan.

  “I don’t know. But I intend to find out. I’d like to search the Seventh Circle chambers, with your approval.”

  “Gwineval, do you hear yourself? How do you think Falignus and his father got started with this magic? Just like this!”

  “But, Hemlock, how can one shun a thing when one doesn’t understand it? It’s not a rational decision if it’s made in ignorance!”

  “Just look at the results of others who’ve made the same decision, though!”

  “The Seventh Circle was corrupt! Perhaps they corrupted the Imperial magic.”

  “And, perhaps not! I knew Falignus. He wasn’t totally corrupt—there was good in him as well,” said Hemlock, pausing uncomfortably as she considered what she was concealing from Gwineval about her discoveries in Falignus’ chamber.

  “Maybe, but I saw plenty of evil in him!”

  Hemlock prepared to respond, but her eye caught a glow from the far corner of the room. There was another glowing pattern of sand that resembled the rune that Gwineval had just cleaned up, but it looked far more intricate. Curiosity overtook her angry feelings.

  “What does that one do?” she asked.

  Gwineval looked taken aback for a moment, and he looked away from Hemlock.

  “Well?” she pressed.

  “It’s nothing. Just something I’ve been working on.”

  “Show me.”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s…personal.”

  She turned toward the door. “See! Already the secrets. You do what you feel you must when I’m gone, but I don’t agree with you investigating the Seventh Circle.”

  “Wait.”

  Hemlock turned to face Gwineval. He had an odd look on his face that she couldn’t identify.

  “Follow me,” he finally said.

  He approached the glowing rune and stood at its border. Turning, he looked Hemlock straight in the eye as he faced her. He stepped backward over the sand border of the rune. As he did so, Hemlock beheld a startling transformation in his face and head.

  His eyes shrank, and the irises became round and brown. His scales gave way to normal human flesh, and a generous head of brown hair bordered with gray sprang up on his head. She instinctively knew that she was looking at Gwineval as he would have appeared if he had not undertaken his physical transformation into a lizard, many years prior.

  Nothing was said for several moments. Finally, Hemlock found her voice. “Is it illusion?”

  “No. While I am inside this rune, this is my real head.”

  Hemlock’s tone softened: “You love her, don’t you?”

  Gwineval quickly stepped back outside of the circle and resumed his normal appearance.

  “What? This is just an exploration of…possibilities. I’m not prone to bouts of uncontrolled emotion like some people around me seem to be.”

  Hemlock started to reply, but stopped short.

  If he hasn’t admitted it to himself, yet, then I won’t push him.

  “Gwineval, go ahead and search the Seventh Circle chambers. Just be careful!”

  “Well, I… Hemlock, I appreciate that.”

  “Will you include Jalis and his lot?”

  “Yes, I think I’ll have to. Word would surely reach them, and I don’t want to give them another point of contention to use against us.”

  “OK, but keep an eye on him.”

  “Of course.”

  Hemlock turned to leave, but Gwineval called after her.

  “Hemlock?”

  “Yes?”

  “Good luck.”

  She smiled at him and left his chamber, again experiencing some guilt for not revealing her and Merit’s discoveries in Falignus’ rooms.

  Your secret is safe with me, my love.

  She stopped in the hallway and took stock of that thought.

  Was he the love of my life? And have I lost him forever?

  She shook her head and continued toward Merit’s chamber.

  She soon reached his doorway. She didn’t want to arouse suspicion about the old tome that they had found, but her curiosity would not allow her to leave on her journey without getting his initial impressions of the contents of the book.

  She knocked on the door, and heard a familiar heavy shuffling from inside. Merit answered the door, and Hemlock thought that his mechanical countenance appeared to bear the expression of frustration.

  “Merit, is everything all right?”

  “Yes, Miss Hemlock, please come in.”

  She entered and noticed that the other six automatons that tended to the Tower were present in the nearly empty room. They were standing in a semi-circle and appeared to be waiting patiently.

  Hemlock noticed the bookshelf in the corner of the small room, which Merit had had installed soon after their last adventure, when he had began his hobby of readi
ng history books. But a small mechanical clicking from one of the six automatons diverted her attention back to them.

  “I’ve been trying to work with them,” said Merit.

  “Yes, I know. How’s it going?”

  “It is going poorly. Numbers Three and Five have shown some response to my attempts to engage them. But as soon as they leave my immediate vicinity, they forget what we talked about. The others have not responded at all. It is quite disheartening.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Hemlock said, attempting to sound compassionate. In reality, she was more interested in hearing about the book.

  He’s your friend. Be attentive!

  She took the initiative. “Do you think they might be damaged?”

  “No, I don’t believe so. And I’ve had you scan the magic of our bodies before, and you’ve never detected anything unusual.”

  “True.”

  “But something has occurred to me, Miss Hemlock.”

  “What?”

  “Lately I’ve felt like my body is constraining me somehow. I have an odd yearning to be free of it.”

  “Don’t say that, Merit. It sounds like you are saying that you want to die!”

  “No, I don’t want to die. But I want to feel free. Remember when we encountered that ghostly spider in the Witch Crags?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ve had a new theory lately concerning that encounter. My body was damaged by the spider’s magic, and it took the concentrated magic of the obelisk to start healing me.”

  “I remember that.”

  “I think that is the point when I started to feel more…human.”

  “But you were there in the Atrium. You decided to join us in the teleport cage. That was a conscious decision, right?”

  “I don’t remember, but I do know that I was in the Atrium in accordance with my scheduled duties. Miss Hemlock, I think that when my body was damaged by the witch magic and later healed, some permanent damage was done.”

  “Why? Do you feel bad? Do we need to have you examined?”

  “Go ahead and examine me yourself.”

  Hemlock focused her magical sensitivities and looked at Merit’s body. The complex spells wound all around him, and infused the machinery of his body in a tangle of rune lines and auras. No damage was apparent to her until she compared him with one of the other automatons. She noticed that some parts of the complex weave of magic were missing from Merit, and some others that were present were weaker, and even flickered on and off subtly.

  She weighed how Merit might react to this information, but decided to tell him. “Merit, I do see some damage. You may be right.”

  His small head swiveled up and down on his mechanical neck. “It is as I thought, then. I believe that our bodies were constructed to keep us alive. But I think they were also constructed to imprison us somehow. I fear that my comrades will never recover as I have unless we can figure out some way to affect their bodies as mine has been affected.”

  Hemlock approached Merit and clasped his small brass hands in hers. “That sounds dangerous. We could kill them in the process. Merit, promise me that you won’t do anything rash to them or yourself until I return. I couldn’t bear to lose you.”

  Merit’s grip firmed slightly in her hands. “I won’t, Miss Hemlock. You need not worry.”

  Hemlock smiled at him and then, after a few moments, withdrew a few paces and turned toward a bookshelf.

  “So what of the book?”

  Merit walked swiftly into her field of vision before responding in animated fashion. “Miss Hemlock, it is a detailed memoir by Julius. I’ve read about his life before he came to the City, and I’ve learned a little about the Imperator and his reign. Shall I tell you in detail?”

  “No, Merit. Not now. Just keep reading. Once I return we will discuss it in detail.”

  “Miss Hemlock, what of Gwineval? Can I share this with him? So far it has not seemed like dangerous knowledge.”

  Hemlock paced back and forth before replying: “No, not yet. I have allowed Gwineval and the rest of the Wizards to search Falignus’ chambers. There were other books there, so they will have new information to consider in my absence. I’d like to continue to keep this book between you and I until I get back, and we can understand the whole book and what it means.”

  Merit seemed crestfallen, which made Hemlock feel terrible. But she had seen Zaringer and Falignus, and feared what this hidden knowledge might do to a wizard.

  It’s not worth the risk.

  “I have to leave, Merit.”

  She awkwardly hugged his small frame, and they parted with some final words of friendship and well wishes.

  

  Hemlock departed the City by walking under the rusty old arch that marked the western outskirts of the Warrens. A few Tanna Varrans who had immigrated to the City had decided to return home once word had spread that their realm would soon be sundered from the City and its regions.

  All together, their group numbered twenty eight. There were twenty one Tanna Varrans: eighteen who had accompanied Tored in his delegation from Tor Varnos, and three returning from the City.

  There were five Wizards in the group. These included four First Circle fighters, and Renevos, a specialist from the Second Circle, who was an expert in teleportation. Renevos was an older wizard with a waist length white beard, but he was fond of walking and had been deemed fit for the journey—plus he was an irascible curmudgeon, and was not contributing to the magical education of the City folk. Renevos had been recruited for this expedition by Gwineval; and it was clear to all that it was at least partially a punishment.

  Tored had given Hemlock some information on the Tanna Varrans in their group. Several were members of the Taros family. This was the same family that had produced the old king Pan Taros and his son Taros Ranvok. Though Tored was associated with the Taros family, Hemlock had learned that he was a born into a low caste family, but had pledged his life-long service to the Taros at a young age. This was why he was now attempting to mentor the brother of Taros Ranvok, who was named Taros Sundar.

  Hemlock watched Taros Sundar as he walked ahead of her. He looked something like Taros Ranvok had, but his younger frame was smaller, and his features were less angular. Hemlock watched with some amusement as he took his war spear from his back and began playfully whacking one of his cousins in the posterior with it. She knew that such youthful spirit was rare among the Tanna Varrans.

  Tored had told her that Taros Sundar was uninterested in seeking the throne even though, had he shown an interest, his chances of being selected by the voting council of elders were deemed to be good. Tored had conceded that the youth did not seem to be cut from the cloth of leadership, though he worried that the prominence of his family in Tanna Varran politics might make it impossible for Taros Sundar to remain wholly apart from political life.

  Another Tanna Varran cast a dark look at Taros Sundar's merriment. This was Umra Vyle, leader of the Umra family since his father had taken ill. He had stepped aside from political life. Umra Vyle was similar to Tored in temperament, and his muscular frame evidenced the strength of early, but fully realized manhood. He was almost as large as Tored, and he had the proud bearing of youth mixed with experience and capability.

  "So, what's it like ruling over the wizards?" asked a newly familiar voice. Hemlock turned to regard Faud, a Tanna Varran from the Taros family, who had dropped back to engage Hemlock in yet another of a series of pointed conversations that Hemlock had been trying to avoid. Faud's obsequious smile made him difficult to ignore, so Hemlock felt compelled to respond.

  "It has been different, Faud."

  "Faud, move along now. Hemlock and I have to talk," interjected Tored.

  Faud looked despondent, but he moved ahead quickly and re-joined the group of Taros clan walkers, who walked in a group apart from the larger Umra clan.

  "Thank you," said Hemlock as she smiled at Tored.

  "The man is inquisitive like a boy.
Between him and Taros Sundar, I feel like a lion amongst cubs."

  “Impressed with yourself, aren’t you?”

  Tored broke into a rare smile, but said nothing.

  “I’ve never met a Tanna Varran like Faud. Usually you are all more…reserved.”

  “Truly spoken. Faud has been acting unusually since he and his family were ambushed by witches. His father and brother were killed in the encounter, but Faud managed to flee. They were the only family that he had. I once made a promise to his mother on her deathbed to look after the boy. Because of Faud’s erratic behavior, Umra Vyle has tried to strip him of his status as a warrior. But I intervened on his behalf. ”

  "I also noticed Umra Vyle scowling at Taros Sundar."

  Tored nodded. "He sees him as a rival. And Sundar might yet grow out of his youthful simplicity. Umra Vyle thinks it better to confront him as a boy than as a man. There is cold logic in that. But Taros Sundar dismisses me whenever I speak of the danger."

  "Maybe I can talk to him about it."

  Tored, who had been looking ahead, turned to face her. "It would be a great favor to me if you did."

  "Think nothing of it. I will speak to him soon."

  "I am in your debt."

  The two were silent for a time. Hemlock noticed that Taros Sundar was now making merriment at the expense of Faud, who had evidently made a foolish remark.

  Hemlock broke the silence. "This is going to be a long journey, isn't it?"

  "Yes, many days, as we discussed."

  "I remember horses from when I was a child. If we had them, we might complete this journey in just a few days."

  "Yes, I have heard tales of them. They are said to be beautiful beasts. We did not have them on our old world."

  "Gwineval tells me that non-magical beasts cannot survive the passage of the veil that surrounds the City."

  "This must be true, for otherwise we should have beasts in great abundance, I imagine."

  The group walked on, and soon the sun was high in the sky. Hemlock saw that Renevos now walked beside her on her left.