Hemlock and the Wizard Tower

  Chapter Twenty Five

  Hemlock sat slumped in a fine brocade chair in the room that the wizards had imprisoned her in, gazing out the window. She considered many of the things that Samberlin had said to her.

  Should I have claimed to be loyal? She had a feeling that that wouldn’t have worked. He would have known.

  She considered that perhaps she had been wise to play it straight with the Speaker of the Senate. Samberlin looks like a man who has spent a lifetime lying and learning to detect when others are.

  Recoiling from unpleasant thoughts of the old Senator, her mind turned to fond, but bittersweet memories of Safreon. She remembered his passion, his keen appreciation for individual liberty and his faith in the human spirit. What had he said to her about the Elites?

  "Most of them live in a gilded cage, dancing to the tune of their jailors. They are good people, but naïve. They do bear some responsibility for ignoring the plight of the less fortunate, but I cannot wholly indict them for that. Someday, they may awaken, and be of great aid to our cause," she recalled him saying to her.

  At the time, she hadn’t understood those words, and he hadn’t seemed anxious to elaborate.

  Why did he spoon feed me this knowledge? At least Samberlin and Falignus treat me like an adult.

  A familiar knock came from outside the door. She knew it well, as the person whom she expected to call on her had always knocked with a distinctive rhythm. She didn’t like to admit to herself that she enjoyed these regular visits from Falignus, but she did.

  Perhaps it’s just the boredom, she reasoned, fully aware that it wasn’t true.

  She rose and opened the door, at once conscious of the fine gown that she wore, as Falignus had provided nothing less pretentious for her.

  He bowed and entered the room, his light complexion wearing an uncharacteristic look of frustration, accented by his long dark hair.

  "Greetings," he said, bowing to her.

  "Hello," she replied, "I have a question for you."

  "Oh?" he asked, surprised at her opening the conversation. That had usually been his role since his visits had begun.

  "When I broke into the Tower weeks ago, there were riddles warding the circular stairs in the utility room on the first floor. The answer to the final riddle was my name. I’ve been thinking about that, and wondering why. Did you make the riddle? Did you know that I was coming and set it up for me?" she asked.

  "Ah yes," he replied with a playful sparkle in his eye overshadowing his former look of frustration. "I did create that riddle, although I didn’t consciously realize that it was going to be answered with the name of the first person to enter the Tower undetected in recorded history. Hemlock is a reagent that we’ve been known to use in certain potions. I think it was a coincidence, if you believe in those."

  His answer did not fully satisfy Hemlock, but she accepted it, turning away and responding with a noncommittal grunt.

  She felt Falignus’ eyes on her. "Hemlock, Gwineval continues to destroy the Oberon obelisks. His tactical skill is amazing. I had no idea that he was so skilled in that area, or I would have transferred him to the First Circle."

  "Any word on his location?" she asked.

  "None yet. He has yet to show himself on the battlefield. I suspect that he is taking time to study the Wand and learn its uses."

  "Why don’t we attack?"

  "We can’t get drawn into a long campaign now and we are low on harvester golems. Our priority is to maintain the supply of Oberon to the City. Plus I need to stay in the City to make sure that rascal Samberlin doesn’t make any unexpected political maneuvers. You’ve met him now, so you probably can appreciate my concern in that area."

  "Yes, I can. By the way, I suspect that the tactics you are seeing are not Gwineval’s, but Tored’s. He is a Tanna Varran general. He seemed like a great soldier to me," she mentioned without thinking. She then wondered about the wisdom of providing that information to Falignus.

  "Really? Tored, you say? Thank you," he replied, looking pleased. "I didn’t think that aberrant fool had it in him to be a military commander."

  There was a long pause as Hemlock felt guilty for providing information about Tored, who had done her no wrong.

  Falignus approached more closely and gently turned her head until her gaze met his.

  "I'd like you to attend a ball with me," he stated, ignoring her incredulous look at his touching her.

  Hemlock mockingly scowled in response, but relented when she saw that he was serious.

  "Are you mad?  I'm a prisoner in your Tower.  Why would you ask me to attend a ball? And assuming I had a choice, why would I choose to do that?"

  Falignus took a light tone in response. "I prefer to think of you as a guest, as you know.  Of course I can't force you to go to a ball–it would defeat the purpose and spoil all of the fun.  It's meant to be a lighthearted and joyous event after all."

  "Sorry, I'm not in a dancing mood at the moment."

  "Precisely why you should attend.  I also have a surprise for you–a pleasant surprise.  And you can pick out a nice dress for the occasion."

  "I've had enough surprises in the past weeks for one lifetime, I think," Hemlock responded, eyes downcast.

  Falignus stood silent for a moment, looking contemplative.

  "Fine, you're making me spoil the surprise." He paused.  "You recall that I mentioned that I had personally seen to the care of your sister?"

  Hemlock looked up with undisguised hope in her eyes.

  "See?  That got your attention, didn't it?  Well, I do like to attend these balls in the elite district from time to time.  I have a weakness for the pomp and finery, I suppose.  One of my contacts mentioned to me that your sister, now quite healthy and happy, has been invited to the ball by a prominent nobleman.  You’ve been asking me constantly about seeing her. I thought that you might want to attend this ball for that reason, and perhaps for others as well."

  Hemlock was silent for several moments.  Finally she chuckled to herself.  "So you think it's that easy, do you?" she asked rhetorically.

  "I assume nothing.  If you do not wish to go, then you do not have to."

  "Is it fun for you?" she asked.

  "What?" he replied with a tone of mild annoyance, like one might use with a recalcitrant child.

  "Playing these little games with me?"

  "Look. I’m a wizard, but I’m also a young man living here in relative seclusion with a bunch of old, boring scholars. There is suddenly a beautiful young woman in our midst. It seems perfectly natural, to me, that I might ask her to a function such as this, feeling as I do about her, that is."

  Hemlock felt reluctantly charmed by Falignus’ invitation, but also felt deeply offended at the circumstances under which the invitation was being delivered. Her thoughts turned to her sister, though, and she knew that she wanted to say yes and accept his offer.

  Turning away from him, she said, "Have you spoken to Samberlin?"

  "I have."

  "What did he say about me?"

  "He said that your loyalty is uncertain."

  "And you are undeterred by that, I gather?"

  "If your loyalty was so easily won, I should probably value it much less."

  "Well spoken. I suppose that I’ll play along, then. I’ll attend your little ball, but only if that old fool, Grubbins, chaperones," she said finally, turning back toward him.

  For the first time, she thought that she had truly caught him off guard.

  She smiled slightly and he looked relieved when he realized her joke.

  "Why, I was fairly terrified at that prospect. Well played," he responded, smiling. "Now," he continued, "you do need to understand that we will be magically disguised. Your sister will not be able to recognize you. I thought it best to initially handle matters like this. You will be able to make full contact with her soon. Besides, she seems quite smitten with this noble who will escort her. It might be a
kindness to let them enjoy their evening, and for us to enjoy ours from a distance."

  Hemlock looked at his full lips and cleft chin and wondered what his real intentions were. There had been boys and a few men in the Warrens that had made overtures toward her in the past. Some had intrigued her–mostly on a physical level–but she had never felt a loss of control like she felt around Falignus. This scared her and made her want to rebuff him.

  But she had already agreed to go and she couldn’t figure out a graceful (or logical) way to demure.

  Falignus was always graceful in his interactions with her and this made her want to be graceful as well.

  What is this connection I feel with him?

  Realizing that she had been lost in thought and hadn’t responded to him, she hastily replied, “Yes, let her enjoy the night. It will be enough for me to see her."

  Falignus bowed to her and she again saw a sparkle in his eye.

  "Tomorrow, when I come to you, it will be early evening. We will dine together, and then make our way to the Ball."

  He smiled at her as he executed a self-deprecating bow, and then left the chamber.

  Hemlock moved toward her dinner tray, which had been brought by a young Wizard some minutes prior to Falignus’ arrival. As she ate, she wondered why Falignus had never dined with her before.

  …

  She began the following day by progressing through her usual routine.

  As had happened every morning since she had come to the Tower, she was escorted down each of the Tower floors on a gently winding staircase that seemed to follow the curve of the Tower’s outer walls, punctuated by sharp turns where the walls formed a corner. She was then led out of a small basement door and into the caves beyond. While she was not allowed to experience the freshness of outside air, the air in the caves and caverns was still somewhat refreshing compared to that of the Tower (for her chamber’s windows were closed and secured by the magical field used by the wizards to restrain her). Only the guarding presence of the wizard Kraven, and his unending stream of crass sexual advances marred what would have otherwise been a pleasant part of her day.

  Hemlock had taken to reading a treatise on the magical properties of roots and herbs, one of the few books in her chamber, and, much to her chagrin, the least boring of them. She recalled some of the herbs from her childhood, when she had lived on her family’s farm outside of the veil, and this was comforting to her.

  As the sun began to set, Hemlock’s thoughts turned fully to the coming events of the evening. She had been thinking about the ball all day, but only now allowed herself to become fully aware of it.

  She rose and opened the door of a large wardrobe and exhaled mildly in surprise. Several exquisite gowns had been placed there while she had been out on her daily walk.

  She chose a blue dress, woven expertly in an iridescent, smooth fabric, which she assumed was silk. It was accented with gemlike beads and pleated luxuriously below the waist with sequins. It was more beautiful and elegant than any clothing that she had ever seen.

  Fine jewelry had also been placed out for her. She chose ornate silver earrings featuring topaz stones and a large topaz necklace, encircled with a stunning set of shimmering diamonds.

  This jewelry alone would buy half of the homes in the Warrens, she thought in amazement.

  After she had dressed herself, she sat for a time and waited for a knock on the door. She was undeniably excited and as she sat, she tried to coax herself into a neutral frame of mind, for, as she chided herself, she was engaging in this activity only to gain the trust of Falignus, so that she might be given an opportunity to avenge herself against Gwineval. And, of course, she desperately wanted to see her sister and be sure she was safe.

  Finally, the expected knock at her door came. Rising after a moment, she opened the door and beheld Falignus, who looked resplendent in a fine dark suit, with an ornately woven black neck tie. He carried an ornamental cane, which was tipped in gold with the visage of snake.

  Their eyes met and once again she caught a rare glimpse of Falignus appearing off guard.

  "You look beautiful," he said, smiling.

  "You also look nice," she replied, in what she hoped was not a gush.

  "Shall we be off then?" he asked, backing up and offering his arm.

  "Yes," she said noting his gesture, "but let’s not overdo it."

  He looked awkwardly at his arm and retracted it. "Ah," he said airily, "right, after you, then. We will exit via the back door. I think you are familiar with the route."

  "Indeed I am," she said, closing the door behind her and walking through the dimly lit corridor toward the familiar stair. As she walked, she noted that the oppressive air of the Tower didn’t seem quite so heavy for some reason.

  They walked together and chatted lightly and effortlessly. Soon they exited the Tower, navigated the caves and caverns and then climbed up the narrow chasm walkway as she had done on the morning when she met with Samberlin.

  They walked side by side and close together around Hemisphere lake, and the night was crisp and cool. He put a light shawl over her bare shoulders.

  Hemlock noticed that the magical field which the wizards used to contain her was not visible.

  Has he decided to trust me fully? She also wondered whether she should try to exploit that trust, if it had truly been granted.

  They reached the Elite district, passed the stately Senate building and continued deeper into the beautiful district, which Hemlock had never set foot in before.

  Hemlock marveled at how clean and perfect everything was. Special rose colored torches had been placed in the streets for the ball, and marked the route to the dance hall.

  Other revelers filled the streets, dressed beautifully, and it seemed to Hemlock like the entire district must be attending, as they neared the hall in the midst of a small crowd.

  The dance hall was a special building, rivaling the Senate hall in its architectural beauty and grandeur. It was bedecked in more rose colored lanterns and colorful bunting accented the whitewashed railings and columns.

  Sweet music could be heard coming from within the hall.

  "This is amazing," said Hemlock, "it’s almost like another world."

  "Someday all of the City could be like this," Falignus said.

  Hemlock turned to him and saw that his comment would likely lead to an exposition on politics, were she to engage it with a reply. Instead, she chose to smile and took his arm.

  He smiled in return, and she saw the political line of thinking pass from his countenance leaving only an expression of joy.

  Arm in arm, they entered the Hall, amidst other joyful couples. Hemlock was surprised to see that the interior of the building was open to the sky above, where the stars twinkled majestically, as if in approval of the happy occasion below.

  The Hall itself contained many huge ice sculptures which lined the walls in a series of three-quarter gazebos rendered in ice. These glowed from within with sparkling blues and reds. Great carpets had been placed on the floors and the benches within these structures of ice in order to shield the revelers from the cold. Happy guests sat within and watched the dancers, and the ice did not seem to be melting or giving off any discomfort to the occupants of the gazebos.

  A large line dance was being performed to the tune of an expert orchestra.

  The combination of the music and the spectacle left Hemlock feeling light-headed, and just then Falignus took two glasses from a waiter and presented her with a glass of fine wine.

  "Let us toast this fine evening," he said.

  She nodded, and as their glasses met, a beautiful note was struck by that meeting.

  She drank and the light-headed feeling intensified. She realized that she didn’t want the feeling to lessen.

  After a few more moments, Falignus pointed out a young girl who was dancing in a peach gown cut very similarly to the one that Hemlock had chosen.

  Tears ran do
wn Hemlock’s face as she realized that it was her sister, Mercuria. She had never seen her sister look so healthy, vibrant and beautiful.

  Turning to Falignus, she realized that she was beaming with joy, but it was too late to try to mask it.

  "She looks amazing – like her ailments are gone," Hemlock said.

  "They are gone. I have seen to it that she has received the best care available. She has been adopted by a fine family from here in the district. Like you, she had no trouble adapting to a more refined environment. In fact, I think you’ll agree that she’s flourished in it."

  Hemlock couldn’t dispute that claim. She watched as Mercuria danced gracefully and Hemlock saw that she seemed to be smitten with the young, smartly dressed man who danced with her.

  "Everything you’ve said is true. I can see that she is happy," she said.

  Hemlock continued to find the environment to be intoxicating.  Seeing her sister filled with joy repaired a part of Hemlock that she hadn't realized had been wounded.  She became aware that she had shut off her feelings for a long time. But Hemlock chose not to dwell on this revelation, for fear of it dispelling her current mood.

  She then marveled as blue and green lights scintillated playfully through the lattices of ice, rendering the entire ballroom in incandescent splendor.  She became aware of Falignus standing beside her and of his warmth–which was highlighted by the pleasantly mild chill of the air.

  She realized that it would be easy–frighteningly easy–to forget herself for this one night.  She felt like she could step into another life–perhaps a life that she would have had outside of the City–if things had been different.  It occurred to her that this chance might never come again.

  She felt Falignus reach his hand down and grasp hers.  She didn't recoil from his grasp.

  As they held each other, she realized that if the freedom of this night was a pool that she had tried to reconnoiter–that she had instead fallen in head first.  She felt increasingly light-headed from the wine.

  Looking up at Falignus, she whispered, "Just remember, this isn't real.  It's a fantasy."

  He looked down at her, his cheek rippling pleasingly as it rendered his sardonic smile.  "What isn't?" he replied.

  They danced for hours under the starlight.

  When the hour began to grow late, and the revelers grew fewer and fewer in number, Falignus bid her to return to the Tower.

  She agreed, and as they walked near the Senate building, he stopped her short.

  Holding up a finger to bid for her patience, he began to weave a spell.

  Hemlock felt a sensation of warm energy wash over her as she felt first a dweomer of obfuscation and then a strange sensation of lightness.

  Falignus took her hand and they began to float gently upwards.

  She laughed and he laughed with her as they floated higher, and eventually travelled over the Senate building and out over the lake.

  The water was beautiful in the moonlight as they soared, hand in hand.

  Even the dreary appearance of the Wizard Tower couldn’t dull their mood as they landed on its upper balcony.

  They entered through the atrium and Falignus led her down the Emerald stair, which did spark a glimmer of a memory of harsh reality and of the weight of the past in the back of Hemlock’s mind. She began to be conscious of herself again, but only a little. If anything, it made the sensations which were still running strong in her seem that much more precious.

  When Falignus paused at a door that was not her own, she knew what he wanted. She looked into his eyes and nodded in agreement.

  As she entered his room, she repeated a phrase over and over in her mind.

  "It is just a dream."