Hemlock And The Wizard Tower (Book 1) by B. Throwsnaill Read Free Book Online Page B

reach.
    " I cannot do that.  I wouldn’t know how to attempt it," r eplied Merit with some hesitation.
    She was conscious of the fact that she needed to take action in less than four minutes.  Alternatively, she could wait here for Number Two to enter and attempt to reason with him as well .  But she was pretty sure that she didn’t want to deal with more than one of these automatons.  She thought that e ven if she assumed that their personalities were similar, that revealing herself to two of the automatons would expose her to more risk of detection.  Plus she now knew that Merit would be in the seventh floor atrium at some point that night, and likely willing to help her .  She figured that was probably the best advantage she would be able to obtain from the automatons . 
    She had to concentrate on her next move though.  If she waited here , she risked more complications and wouldn’t mov e toward her goal.  She decided to focus on finding a way to get upstairs.
    " Merit, are there any ways up to the higher floors besides the main stairways? "
    "Yes, there are many."
    " How many wizards are on this floor right now? "
    " Well, let me see.  It’s difficult to say exact ly but I would expect that…well," Merit continued to think out loud as he worked through the problem .
    Hemlock decided that she needed to change the focus of her questions.
    " Merit, is there any door that I can run to on this floor tha t will lead to the third f loor? " she blurted out, fidgeting from one foot to the other as she spoke .
    "Yes, the first door on the w estern stair well leads to the workshop.  In the workshop is a stair to the third floor. "
    She started to dash toward the door, but halted mid stride.
    "Merit, when will you be in the Atrium tonight? "
    " In two hours , Miss Megan ."
    S he deliberately slowed her speech down to a congenial pace.
    " Merit, it’s been a pleasure talking to you.  I will meet you in the Atrium tonight.  As we discussed, you must tell no one of our meeting tonight.  I’m glad that we are friends. "
    With that said, she dashed off toward the doorway.  She had only a few minutes to navigate the stair.  She hadn’t found out how Number Two would enter this room.  If it was through the same door, she might have only moments to dash to the other service door across the stairwell, and remain undetected.
    As she ran off she heard Merit softly mutter, "Friends."

Chapter Three
     
    Hemlock reached the exit to the service room and felt for a magical aura on the door .  The door was magical, but the magic was identical to that borne by the door which she entered on the first floor.  She quickly traced the required rune pattern in the air , and as the door started to slide open, she grabbed the side of it to stop its momentum and peered out into the hall through the crack that the open door had created .
    A quick scan revealed that the immediate area in the hallway was clear– nobody was on the stairs.  She not iced odd sconces on the walls which supported small lamps . T here was no flame in these lamps, yet they did emit a glowing light via a glass enclosure.  Within these enclosures small winged creatures turned little handles.  As she watched, momentarily entranced, one of the little imps scratched his head and when he paused , the light in that lamp went out. 
    Apparently slave labor is popular in the tower.
    She would be gambling on the Imps not raising an alarm if she ventured into the hall .
    She noticed the door past the western stairway that Merit had told her about ; she slipped out the door and moved quickly but steadily into the hall , avoiding eye contact with any of the Imps in the lamps .  She moved with a feline grace, upper torso parallel to the floor and kept up a moderate but steady pace as her ears were attuned to every sound around her.
    The first thing that she heard was activity above.  Some voices: maybe three or four, engaged in a melancholy discussion.  A furtive