Hemlock And The Dead God's Legacy (Book 2) (3 page)

Jalis did not respond.  Hemlock had already measured the wizard as a coward
, when push came to shove.

“
And one more thing.  I want those dragon eggs delivered into my possession!  Now!  Grubbins!  Enter!”

Grubbins
uncertainly entered the meeting chamber from the side door.  Hemlock knew that he would be there listening.  The meddling wizard was surely aware that by entering he was implicating himself in eavesdropping, yet he did not dare to disobey Hemlock in her agitated state.

“
Bring me those dragon eggs from Jalis’ chambers.  Search the whole floor if you have to.  I want them here before anyone leaves this room.”

Hemlock returned to her seat, where
, due to all of the seats facing outward, she was free from the sight of any of the other wizards.  She knew that looks were being exchanged between various wizards beside her, but no words were spoken until Grubbins returned with two young wizards in tow, each carrying a dragon egg with some difficulty.  The eggs were as large as a man’s head and were brightly colored.  One was purple and one was orange.  They were covered in tough scales, and their weight and rough texture had torn one of the young wizard’s robes.

“Good.  Bring them to the A
trium.  Miara, please watch them for me until I get there.  We will call Penelope.  A griffin might know the best way to handle these, since they live in the mountains where the dragons used to.  This meeting is over,” said Hemlock.

She glanced at Jalis as he left, flanked by his three sympathizers.  His face had reddened again, and though he dared not look at her, she knew that his every thought lashed out at her angrily.

Gwineval and Miara approached her with disapproving looks on their faces.

“Not now!” she cried.

The two wizards looked at each other, shook their heads, and left her alone.

“Make certain to see me before you depart on your fool’s errand,” said Gwineval before leaving.  The two young wizards picked up the dragon eggs awkwardly and followed
Gwineval and Miara out of the audience chamber.



It was a breezy midday in the City as Miara and Hemlock waited on the balustrade outside of the glass Atrium that topped the Wizard Tower.  Hemlock looked down over the Elite district, and by turning her head and using a hand to control her blowing hair, was able to see the Warrens as well.

How much has really changed in the City since I took over?

Miara broke Hemlock’s reverie, speaking the first words since she had cast the spell to summon Penelope: “Hemlock, you gave Jalis everything that he wanted in that meeting this morning.  Now the wizards will feel justified in their fear of your rule.  You made it clear that you rule by decree only.  Some will rebel against that.”

“Let them rebel.  Despite Jalis’ blustery words, they wouldn’t dare to attempt a coup.  Their number has been reduced and we have
Samberlin’s support,” said Hemlock.

“Do we?  You know I don’t trust him.  And there may have been some wisdom in Jalis’ accusation that Samberlin is plotting the destruction of the wizard guild.  And now you’re talking about leaving the City?  Hemlock, how would we stand against a coup without you?”

She has a point.  But why would Samberlin want Jalis in control of the guild?  And when I return I would make matters right.  Samberlin isn’t stupid.

“Samberlin won’t support Jalis.  If he does, I will destroy him when I return.  He knows that.”

“But what if you don’t return?  This is not a mere diplomatic mission that you’re leaving on.  This is an accursed vale.  It could harbor strange magic that you’re not accustomed to.  Hemlock, we don’t yet understand your powers completely.  Why not send one of the other wizards to lead the expedition?”

“Because I’m the best one to face the danger.  I’ll not send another wizard to risk their life to do my work for me.”

The approach of Penelope deflected Miara’s expected retort.  The graceful beast landed hard, grasping the balusters with her claws.

“
Hi
,” thought Hemlock, initiating the form of wordless conversation that she used to communicate with the Griffin.

“
Greetings from the mountains
,” responded Penelope.

“
I hope you are doing well.  Things are good in the City.  I am soon to leave on an expedition to locate the Wand that binds the western land.”

“It is good.  You flow with the universe.  He who we forget surely guides you.”

“Who do you mean?”

“I speak of him who dwells in secret.  I cannot say more for fear of the enemy.”

“What enemy?”

But the Griffin did not respond, and
rose to her full height, which seemed, to Hemlock, to underscore her unwillingness to say more.

“
There they are
.”  Hemlock pointed to the eggs resting on the floor near where the Griffin had landed.

“
So, it is true.  The children of the deceiver still live.”

“The deceiver?  Is he t
he enemy?  Are you saying that dragons are the children of the enemy?”

“Yes, but they might walk a nobler path.  I will take these.  I will raise them as Griffins.  When they come of age
, they will choose their path.  It is a great deed to deliver these to me.  I thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Hemlock wanted to ask Penelope many more questions, but the Griffin was always reluctant to answer.  Hemlock wished she knew why, and puzzled at the origins of the Griffin.

Penelope bowed, and gently outstretched her great paws to carefully scoop up the eggs.  She bowed her head
again, and then took flight; vibrating the tower with her takeoff, and blowing Hemlock and Miara back a few steps under the force of the air beating out from under her strong wings.

“Mysterious, as always,” commented Hemlock.

But Miara was already making for the door leading to the Atrium, and did not respond.



Hemlock took a few moments to absorb the ambience of her former apartment, and was struck by a feeling of having lost connection with the place.

Her sister still lingered by the window
that looked over the street outside.  Hemlock noticed when Mercuria touched the cheaply painted portrait picture of the two of them that had been purchased many years ago.

"You know, Hemlock, I guess I just have to accept that things are different now," said Mercuria, still facing away.

Hemlock was surprised by Mercuria’s change in tone, paused for a few moments, and then replied tentatively, "We've all had to accept changes, Mercuria."

Mercuria whirled toward her sister, "Yes, but some of us made choices that resulted in these changes.  Others of us were swept up by them."

Hemlock looked away from Mercuria.  "I'm sorry about that.  I never intended for all of this to happen.  I was really just trying to make sure that you would be healthy."

"Really?  Did you really think that you were doing all of this for me?  Because, I was happy before
—in pain at times, but happy.  I would have been happy to keep living our old life.  You remember?   The one where we were sisters and spent all of our time together?"

Hemlock moved past her sister and picked up the portrait.

"There's something different about me, Mercuria.  I'm sorry that it has come between us, but I'd like to make sure that it doesn't ruin us."

"I understand that now.  I have to.  But I still don't like it."

Hemlock thought back to her dream experiences, and to the strangely dressed figure wielding the Wand.  She was troubled by the thought, and then her face creased more deeply into a frown as she considered the implications of what she had seen: for her sister—and for the City as a whole.

"I don't like it much myself.  But
it's like cursing the weather—it just sort of is, regardless of how we feel about it."

"Hemlock, watch this."

Hemlock turned to face her sister as the latter began an intricate gesture that almost resembled a dance.  Hemlock's magical affinity sensed magical forces of healing beginning to surround her sister's body as the movements intensified.  After a few moments, Mercuria rested her arms back at her side.

"You see, Hemlock, I'm different now
, too.  I'm a magician now—a healer."

Hemlock was surprised.  She had known that Mercuria was taking magic lessons, but there had been real power in that spell
—more than the power of a mere initiate.

"I do see it," Hemlock replied.

Mercuria's eyes were bright. "I always thought that Wizards were somehow obscene.  You know how they always come off as a bunch of secretive old men.  I can't believe the feeling I get when I practice magic.  It's so…pure.  It's so beautiful.  It can't be evil."

"It isn't evil, but it can be used for evil."

"Clearly that's true, but I don't think that's what it's meant for, Hemlock.  And I'm good at it.  The Wizards don't say as much, but I know it.  I can see that I'm far ahead of my classmates.  Does this mean that I'm like you?"

"I don't know.  Honestly, I hope not."  Hemlock exhaled forcefully.  "Being me has become a burden of late."

Hemlock and Mercuria had a nice dinner.  The venison was just as delicious as Hemlock remembered.  When the hour grew late, and much reminiscing had been done, it came time to part.

"Mercuria, whatever happens
, I need to know that you will still love me.  That's always been the most important thing to me, even though I forgot it after Safreon’s death."

"I do and I will.  I guess we're not just two sisters from the Warrens any longer, although I'm going to try to hold on to some of that life for as long as I can."

"Fair enough," Hemlock replied, hugging her sister warmly, and being hugged warmly in return.

"I need to go away for a week or two."

"What?  Why did you wait to tell me until now?" Mercuria asked with some annoyance.

"Honestly, the night was going so well, I just forgot.  I'm going to the Witch Crags with Tored to retrieve the Wand that binds them to the City.  It shouldn't be dangerous."

"Uh huh…  Not dangerous?  Right.  I know you, Hemlock—you're never far from danger.  Well, I suppose I'd better start getting used to it.  Come and see me as soon as you return?"

"Of course," Hemlock said, hugging her sister again.




Later that evening, after a short visit with Tored to confirm their plans to leave on the morning of the second day hence, Hemlock retired to her room.

She changed into her nightclothes and lay in bed.  She soon found that she was restless.  The many events of the day were playing back through her mind.  The thought of her dream
about Falignus returned to her.  She hadn’t thought much about it since she had awoken; she’d been too busy.

I finally saw where the light was coming from!

She had an inspiration.  She rose and put on a night robe.  She proceeded to her door and opened it softly.  Hearing nothing, she carefully peered into the hall outside.  Though she moved through the tower with impunity in her new role, she didn’t want anyone—like Grubbins—to observe what she was about to do.

Satisfied that the halls were clear, she emerged from her door, closed it softly, and proceeded down the hall toward the rear stair that led to the upper floors.

She reached the sixth floor without incident.  There was still a guard posted on the seventh floor, however.  The guard walked on the seventh floor ledge that looked down on the sixth floor, protected marginally from falling by a chain stretched along a series of poles at its edge.

Hemlock crept silently down the length of the approach to the old loca
tion of the malevolent Emerald Stair.  A new, mundane stair had been built in its place, but the ledge where the guard was still commanded a clear view of the steps.

Hemlock drew a bone comb from her robe pocket, and with a sharp motion
, she was able to break its end off.  She threw this end in a high arc toward the other side of the hall.  It sailed through the air and clattered to the floor in about the spot she had aimed for.  She counted on the guard’s attention being diverted for an instant that would allow her to clear the stairs.

She dashed up the steps and took cover behind a marble column.  The guard, now inquisitive, was approaching the stairs to investigate the source of the noise.  As he passed, she crept to the interior stair that led down to the seventh circle chambers on the sixth floor, and descended them without incident.

She emerged into a short hallway that led to the door of Falignus’ chambers.  They were locked (per her order), but she made short work of the lock with her lockpicks.  She entered the chamber and shut the door quietly behind her.

Memories of her night with Falignus returned to her in force as she beheld the chamber again.  It was round, tracing the exterior of the Tower in part, and it was lit beautifully by the moon
, which danced through many skylights embedded in the ceiling, where the exterior of the Tower arched inward.