The Hedge Wizard

“So, do you recognise the language?” Hump asked.

Walt stood on the ends of his toes to look over the edge of the table, staring down at the copy of the tattoo in Hump’s spellbook with wide yellow eyes.

He was in the phylactery library. Walt had tidied it up so that what had once been old, dry wood shelves now all but sparkled in the light of the room. It came more to life with every visit, the constant feeding of essence helping to bring back its former lustre.

“Hump…” Walt said, looking at him with what Hump interpreted as a serious face. With the spirit’s protruding jaw, and disproportionate limbs, it didn’t quite come across that way.

“What?”

“You do remember that I can’t read, don’t you?”

Hump rolled his eyes. “I’m not asking you to read it. I’m asking if you’ve seen anything like it in here, or at any other time.”

“Writing? I’ve seen a lot of writing. Big letters, small letters, scribbly—”

“—That’s not what I mean.” Hump gestured at the library.

Walt paused, narrowing his eyes. He turned back to the book, putting his face right up to the page, then looked up at Hump again, fondling his chin with an oversized finger. “I don’t think so, no.”

Hump snorted. “Well, that’s disappointing.”

“Why you asking anyway?”

“We were attacked last night,” Hump said. “That drawing is a copy of a tattoo I found on his back. I’m trying to identify it to see if it’s a clue to who came after me.”

“Oh, good thinking. I used to be a big help with stuff like that. Ol’ Walt’s always got one eye open. Never let anything slip past me.”

Hump grunted a reply as he strode up to the door at the back of the room, only half listening to Walt’s story. He’d come to realise that about half of what the house deity said reflected a very loose interpretation of past events at best. Placing a hand against the door, he fed it with essence, as he had come to do on most mornings. Bit by bit, he was getting closer to unlocking the next room of the lich’s library.

Walt breathed deeply, eyes glimmering with pure blue. Hump felt essence stir within the library too, shifting in its walls and books, spreading everywhere as if the entire building had taken a breath with him.

“Halfway,” Walt declared. “Another month or so and I think we’ll be through.”

“It might be a bit longer than that,” Hump said. “We’re about to enter a dungeon. I’m not sure how much essence I’ll have to spare.”

Walt’s face paled, the deep purple tint of his skin turning to lilac. “What kind of dungeon?”

“It’s called the Infernal Halls,” Hump said. “There’s mostly demons inside it.”

Walt groaned. “Don’t die, you hear me? I don’t want to be beholden to any demons. They’re worse than liches.” He paused, scrunching his face up into a frown. “Are they worse than liches?”

Hump shrugged. “Don’t know. Both seem pretty bad.”

“Well, you better not lose me in there then.”

“Appreciate the vote of confidence,” Hump said with a snort, making his way back past the central table and to the grand entrance. “We’ll be fine.” He stepped outside, looking off into the nothingness that surrounded the library. “I need to check in on Celaine, but I’ll catch you up on the details once I have them.”

“Good. Excellent!” Walt nodded assuredly. “In which case, I suppose I’ll take a nap.”

***

It was several hours later when Celaine awoke, completely oblivious to the happenings of the night. Hump pulled up a chair next to her bed and caught her up on the attack, her face turning to pure horror when she realised how completely unalert she’d been to the attacker’s presence.

“That explains why I feel like I didn’t sleep. I’m exhausted,” Celaine said. She gently stroked Nisha’s chin, the wolf dragon leaning into her hand and closing her eyes blissfully. “And why this little one is so attached to me. Sounds like you saved me, Nisha.”

Nisha let out a soft huff.

“I like to think I helped,” Hump said.

Before Hump could react, Celaine’s other hand shot out and scratched him under the chin too. Hump froze, eyes wide, heat rushing to his face.

“What are you doing?” he stammered.

A smile widened across her face, a rosy tint to her cheeks. “Sounded like you were asking to get your chin scratched too.”

“A thank you would have sufficed.”

“Sure, Hump.” The scratching jest turned into a gentle caress of his cheek before she withdrew her hand. “Thanks for not letting me get killed. I appreciate it.”

Hump frowned at her, slumping in his chair. “When you put it like that, it really doesn’t sound as good.”

“Am I supposed to fall swooning into your arms like that merchant girl you always tell Bud about?”

Hump winced. “You know about that?”

“Dragon blooded hearing, remember?” Tapping her ear. “And you two really aren’t as quiet as you think you are.”

Hump smiled tightly. “You’ll need to forgive me, I didn’t realise we had an eavesdropping party member. At least now I know to be more careful.”

Her smile turned to a smirk. “As long as you know.” She yawned, nodding toward the book at his hip. “You sure he was after your spellbook?”

“If he wasn’t I don’t know what other book he might have been talking about.” Hump showed her the drawing of the tattoo, along with the amulet he found. “Neither I, my spellbook, nor Walt recognise this language. Whoever attacked us came from somewhere far away.”

“You don’t think they could be part of the same group of warlocks?”

“Seems unlikely. Hard to say for sure, but why else would they attack alone?”

“What about that demon, Karlac? Could this be one of his cultists?”

“It’s possible. Though there’s issues with that idea too. Like, how did they mistake you for me? Surely Karlac would have told them they were after a male wizard.”

“True.” Celaine frowned in thought. “No idea. We need more information.”

Hump gave a slow nod. “Yup. Not sure how to get it though.”

“What do you want to do?” Celaine asked.

“If I had it my way, leave Fort Nordric. The more time I spend here, the more trapped I feel.”

“But you’re not going to do that,” Celaine concluded.

Hump shook his head. “I don’t think so. We’ve already agreed to work with Marcela in the Infernal Halls, and I don’t want to go back on our agreement with Countess Daston. It sounds like we’ve been requested on a special mission too—the kind I don’t see Bud turning down.”

He recounted the brief details Marcela had given him about infiltrating the Infernal Halls through a dungeon node and finding a way to open the gates from the inside.

“Sounds like something that plays to our strengths,” Celaine said.

“I suppose,” Hump said. “It will certainly make us look good. I can see a hefty payday for a job like this.”

“Do you really need more coin?” Celaine asked. “You already have a place to live. What’s the point in having more?”

Hump grinned. “There’s always room for more coin.”

They left the apartment to grab a quick breakfast, then went to meet the rest of their party outside High Command. They were established in a large keep that overlooked the river. The keep was generally circular in shape, with four towers jutting out from its circumference. It appeared ancient, made of weathered stone blocks with the yellow hue of much of the fortress. Hump imagined that once this could have been the home of the noble that ruled over the region—an ancestor of the Duchess of Nor, or perhaps someone else. It served little purpose now that such well-crafted defences surrounded the city. If the walls fell, a small keep would hardly make a difference.

“Celaine,” Emilia said, spotting their approach. “Gods, how are you feeling?”

Celaine smiled “Really, I’m fine. If not for all the damage Hump caused in the living room, I almost wouldn’t have believed anything happened.”

Emilia looked her over and sighed. “Well, you’re looking great, despite everything.”

“Hump had us worried when he sent us a message,” Dylan said. “Bud was ready to come over and stand guard, but we talked him down.”

“We can always count on our knight in shining armour,” Celaine said.

“Of course.” Bud nodded. “I am glad to see you well though.”

They headed inside, passing through a portcullis into a small stone courtyard, before entering the keep through two large ornate doors. Guards were stationed everywhere, equipped with greatswords and enchanted armour, no doubt well suited for facing warlocks.

Inside, they were directed toward a large hall. The murmur of voices carried from inside, along with a few louder shouts and bouts of laughter. Hump stood at the edge of the hall, taking in the many people spread out within. The main attraction seemed to be a long table toward the left side of the room, illuminated by rays of colour as the sun passed through stained glass windows high on the wall. Thirty-odd people poured over various maps, pointing out locations, shifting stone indicators, or exchanging them out for different maps.

Count Daston amongst them, and he hardly stood out from the pack. They were all either well dressed or well armoured. One wore a helmet with golden horns, his face hidden in the shadow within. They were taller than Bud even, but skinny and equipped with hunter’s leathers and mail. There was one that Hump could have mistaken for a seafaring pirate, with a scarred face, missing eye, and one arm cut off at the elbow, if not for the polished breastplate etched with fine gold runes. A woman in green clothes walked across the room on hooved legs, stopping to speak with a man with clothes made out of small, live birds. As if sensing his gaze, all the birds suddenly looked at Hump and he turned away.

A man at the head of the table wore a fine silver crown, with a single blue essence stone adorning at the front. With him was a priest in the finest robes Hump had ever seen. They were so white, they appeared to shine, light rippling through them in a wave. The sceptre of Lady Light was embroidered upon the chest, marking him as one of her priests. On the other side was a middle-aged man that radiated a strength that none in the room could match. His hair was peppered with grey and meticulously groomed, while his stern face carried scars of countless battles. He wore a tailored deep red uniform. And behind them stood five men and women, well equipped with various styles of armour and weapons—bodyguards of some sort.

“Gods above, there are a lot of important people in this room,” Bud said.

“That’s Prince Greggory,” Emilia said, pointing at the man with the crown. “King Henry’s grandson. And that there is his cousin, Prince Haspen—one of Duke Malar’s sons.”

“As in, a brother of Prince Kassius?” Hump asked in as quiet a whisper as he could manage.

“Yes.”

“Let’s stay as far away from him as we can then,” Hump said.

“The way I hear it, that might make him a friend,” whispered Bud.

They listed off more important people: the priest was an Arch Priest, one of the most powerful people in the kingdom, and a direct advisor to the king, and it was no surprise to Hump that the man in a red uniform was General Korteg. The guards behind him were King’s Guard, there for Prince Greggory no doubt. The Duchess of Nor was an old, frail looking woman confined to a wheel chair, glowering at everyone in the room. There were many other lords and ladies that Hump was amazed to find that Bud and Emilia could recognise and speak on. Hump had to admit, being surrounded by so many powerful people left him feeling a little nervous.

Celaine’s voice cut through the din of the crowded hall, “Marcela’s approaching.”

They all turned as she left a small group to one side of the room and made her way open. “We won’t talk here,” she said. “Come with me.”

Without waiting for a response, she led them through a throng of people to a smaller, more secluded room nearby. As soon as Hump stepped through the door, he felt the distinct tingle of a veil. Two figures already inside looked up from a large map sprawled across the table. One was a broad-shouldered man outfitted in an impressive suit of dark steel armour, reminding Hump of the Black Paladin under Kassius’ command; the other a woman in lighter, more flexible leather, dyed in a deep forest green and reinforced with plates of enchanted silver.

Hump glanced at the map in fascination, illuminated by the soft glow of essence stone lamps. It was sketched on a large monster hide and detailed a grand gate barring the way through a portal. Beyond lay a sprawling woodland, divided in two by a winding river with a road that followed at its side, leading to a castle toward the topmost point. This must have been the Infernal Halls, but how they gathered such detailed information, Hump had no idea.

“Anara, this is the party you asked about,” Marcela said, introducing each of them. “Everyone, this is Marshall Anara Thane and Merrick Bryndal.”

Merrick stood up straight and smiled. He was a handsome man, with dark hair and a dominating presence. “Ah, the Frost Knight and the White Flame Wizard. I have heard high praise about you both.”

Next to him, the woman’s eyes shifted to Hump’s staff, her keen eyes lighting up at the sight of the Silver Sprig clutched in his hand. “You carry a gift of Owalyn,” she said, a hint of surprise in her tone.

Hump hesitated, a growing knot of anxiety in his stomach, but there was no point lying. “I do.”

“I have heard of no Alveronian with such an honour,” the woman continued, her interest piqued as she scrutinised Hump more closely, before her eyes wandered to Celaine. “Which explains why I smell the dragon in both of you. Marcela told me you had a pet wolf dragon, but she did not mention you were blooded too.”

“It’s not something I told Marcela about,” Hump said.

“No, it wouldn’t be,” Anara said. “No need to be worried here, however. I am a Chosen of Isto. He is a friend to Owalyn. You could think of us as cousins in a way.”

“I have not heard of this god,” Celaine said.

“Few have. He is the Lord of Flowers and Meadows, and an ally to all that value nature.”

“Shall we get to business?” The voice came from the end of the table. Hump saw nothing at first, until a man appeared out of nowhere, cloaked in shadows. Hump’s eyes widened—he hadn’t noticed in the slightest.

“Will they suffice?” Anara asked.

He nodded. “The girl spotted me.”

Anara smiled. “Good.”

“Marcela, have the others enter.”

She left the room briefly, then returned, more people filtering into the room behind her. Wizard Aldric was behind them, nodding to Hump in silent greeting.

“Who are you?” Celaine asked the shadowed man.

“You may call me Drexel,” the man said. “And I am the one tasked with opening the gates to the Infernal Halls.”