Hemlock And The Wizard Tower (Book 1) Read Online Free PDF

same.
    "A dream," responded a voice–she realized it must be the Gnome’s voice–somehow quite understandable despite being composed of a fast series of horns, grinds, squeaks, metallic shivers and dull groans.
    The sounds of climbing resumed.
    Hemlock heard another odd scraping sound. Again the climbing stopped.
    "What is the nature of the spotted alligator?" cried the strange little voice, challengingly.
    "To rend and consume," replied the Gnome.
    Hemlock heard the odd pattern of challenge and response continue at the next highest point on the stair.
    "How high flies the Lagma when his wings are mired in magma?"
    "The gift of flight he’s never known."
    The G nome had almost reached the next floor as another question was asked. But Hemlock could not make out the phrasing of the question. She glided along the floor, reaching the foot of the stair, but she was unable to hear the answer in her concentration on executing the quick motion without making any noise.
    She cursed to herself as she took stock of the fact she had missed both the final riddle and its answer. S ince the first three answers had been phrases, she imagined she stood little chance of getting that final answer right on her own.
    She wondered if she could leap off the stairs or even climb up beneath them. She walked toward the underside to investigate. As she moved closer, an invisible force gently pushed her backwards. She surged forward then and was thrown back several feet, landing on her backside. Apparently, she mused, the wizards had thought of that.  
    Again she reflected on her options. Since the Gnome seemed to be a machine, there seemed to her to be a good chance that he was automated and might return. But she wondered how long that would take.
    Every moment of delay increase d the chances the wizards w ould notice the damage to the Gargoyles and Portcullis.
    She knew she was relying on the wizard’s arrogance and overconfidence. She wondered whether whatever magical protections they might have had been allowed to weaken over the years of seeming invulnerability. Or, she considered, maybe there were alarms going off somewhere, but no one had noticed them–yet.

Chapter Two
     
    Somewhere on the seventh floor of the Wizard Tower, a wizard stood in a small , dark room amidst a din of shrieks.  His long robe did not conceal the fact that he was relatively young and of vigorous appearance, having a slight but muscular build with dark hair and sculpted facial features.  He carried himself with an energetic bearing, which also communicated an unmistakable hint of power.
    The Wizard stood before a stone shelf, which was the only feature of the small closet-like chamber.  On the shelf, a row of small, metallic skulls were arrayed in a line; they had been cast in silver and polished to a shine.  Below each skull was a small wooden stand with a placard which bore the name of a location.  Two of the skulls were emitting a loud shriek and their eye sockets were glowing red, bathing the room in a crimson light.   Their placards bore the words "Front Gate," and "Service, First Floor."
    The Wizard bristled at a lack of discipline that he attributed to his fellow wizards .  He had pushed for more rigorous security measures, but the other wizards had been more intent on their research than anything else; they had not wanted to be disturbed by false alarms or guard duty.  Additionally, they had argued that the Tower was well–nigh impregnable.
    The Wizard judged that the current policy of r elying on automaton s to check the safety of the Tower’s defenses was re ckless–especially given the fact that he knew that the automaton s only checked for alarms in this room once every hour.
    Despite his anger at the fact that someone had apparently infiltrated the Tower, the Wizard’s thoughts were also laced with a raw feeling of excitement.
    "Who has entered the Tower?  Is it the one that my visions have suggested will come?" were the questions that