Hamilton Swoop, Wizard of Green Ridge (32 page)

He moved deeper into the cave after silently removing a torch from the wall. As Whiskers had said, there was nothing to be found.

He was about to move back out when Whiskers’ whispered in his mind.
Better put your plan on hold, Old Man.

Why?
replied Hamilton

'Cause I hear someone, no, make that two people, climbing up the cliff from beneath us.

How close?
asked Hamilton.

They'll be at the cave in about a minute. From the sound of their voices, they didn't notice Bethesda.

A moment of panic washed over Hamilton.
Hide, cat!

What about you?

There isn't time for me to get out of here. I'll hide in the back of the cave.

Good luck, Old Man, and thanks for all the fish. I'll be down below if you manage to get out.

Thanks for the vote of confidence.

Hamilton put the torch he was carrying back into the wall holder. Then he slipped into the unused deeper part of the cave. He was amazed how huge the cavern was. He could see how Thermite number one could have fit in this place. He moved further into the darkness and then sat on the damp floor with his back to a wall trying to be as inconspicuous as possible.

There was a stirring from the front as the newcomers entered the cave. Hamilton heard Hardension's voice say, “Well easy enough for you to say, but you didn't have to spend an hour searching that old fool's office—and in the dark, at that."

"Yeah, well I wasn't the one that included the orb in the trunk you left,” came a voice that sounded like the yellow skinned guy from his shop. Hamilton decided that this must be Topaz.

"I may have left it, but it was your idiot associates that loaded it up with the orb."

"Following your instructions."

"Pune, man. You tryin’ to wake the dead or something?” came a voice Hamilton didn't recognize.
So, Tummin is heard from
.

Tummin continued, “And from the sounds of it, you didn't find the orb—right?"

"No,” replied Hardension. “But at least that old Runemaster won't be supplying any more information to Stupe."

That's Swoop
.

"No one told you to kill Argus,” Tummin muttered with a muted snarl.

"Had to be done. He caught me going through Diamond's office. It was him or me,” growled Hardension.

"I doubt that. You had that nasty little pith dagger of yours and all he was armed with what—old age? This could start a war,” Tummin said.

Hardension replied, “So what? Once we burn some of this oil their magic will be dead. Then what will they have?"

"Oh, I don't know. Five of them for every one of us."

"Yes, well I...” Hardension began.

"Shut up. Just shut up. One more word and you'll be seeing Argus quicker than you can imagine. There were a few moments of silence. Then Tummin added, “Paz, what's your story? Will the bankers be in Norkon tomorrow?"

"They'll be there tomorrow, but they weren't real happy to hear that the dragon was dead. They said if the people don't feel threatened anymore, they'll move back into their homes. I told them not to worry, that we were going to burn pots around the pit tomorrow. That'll keep the wizards away. Besides, Thermite II will be full-sized in another two weeks. I still can't figure out how they managed to kill the original. Anyway, a few more attacks and we can buy up the rest of Norkon for next to nothing. Then we'll get production under way."

Cat, where are you?

Listening at the mouth of the cave. Want me to come in?

No. I want you to climb down and wait with Bethesda.

What about you?

I'll be down shortly. Be ready to move when I arrive.

As you command, oh, wise one.

Hamilton knew he couldn't stay where he was. The barrels of Devil's Blood were far to close to him and if they were going to start sealing them up and moving them ... well, he'd better get out now. There's only one problem. Well, actually five problems, and three of them were wizards. He moved closer to the tables at the rear of their work area and looked about for a seed of a plan, but the nursery was barren. Nothing he saw would make a suitable weapon.

Voices from the front of the cave suggested that no one was planning to wait until morning and Hamilton heard Tummin order Melvin and Duck to bring the wagon and horses around. He heard the two acknowledge the request as their voices trailed out of earshot.

It was time to act and Hamilton still had no plan. He took a deep breath, stroked his stubble for luck, and looked about the cave. His eyes stopped at the torch he had used earlier. Then, he spied the open barrels. His first thought was to tip one over and ignite it. But, after considering the possibility that he might end up being trapped and cooked, he rejected it.

Then the masks on the floor caught his eye and a plan formed. He removed the mask he had taken and put it on. It had straps on the back that he tightened. Then, without a sound, he took the torch off the wall, initiated a lightfoot spell, and then ignited one of the barrels. Yellow flame and black smoke rose from the barrel.

Hamilton waited until he heard Tummin shouting. Then, he moved. He ran straight though the three men who were already heading in his direction. Hamilton saw expressions of shock and surprise on their faces as he flashed past. He continued at full speed until he came to the mouth of the cave. Without a pause, he leapt into the air and sailed out over the edge of the cliff.

It was at this exact point that a disquieting thought popped into his mind suggesting that he should have tested the mask's power to filter out the smoke before doing this. Relief followed in the next second as the lightfoot spell took hold and decelerated his flight to the ground. He looked down to see Bethesda and Whiskers, illuminated by moonlight, at the foot of the cliff. A second later something rushed past him. It was Hardension, wearing one of the other masks. Hamilton recognized his maroon cloak. Hardension's body, unlike Hamilton's, dropped like a sack of potatoes.

There was a nasty sound as the Alchemist's body impacted on the limestone below.

Old man?
A hesitant call from Whiskers.

I'll be there in a couple of seconds. Were you worried that that body was mine?

No, I, er, just wondered where you were.

"Sure you did.” Hamilton touched down behind Whiskers. He removed and stowed his mask. “Thanks for caring, cat. Now, let's get out of here before the bad guys arrive."

The trip back through the swamp was unpleasant. While Hamilton's magic once more kept the nasties beneath the surface from nipping at Bethesda, the falling temperature had caused the shallows to ice over. His horse's hooves crunched along sending cold spray on his flanks and Hamilton's legs. The moon was now hidden behind gathering clouds. Bethesda complained,
How about some light, boss
?

"Sorry, boy, but I have no doubt that we're being followed. No sense in advertising where we are."

Do you know how cold this water is?

"Yes. I'm cold too, but we'll be out of here soon,” Hamilton's legs were numb beneath his wet pants.

"How are you doing, cat?"

From inside Hamilton's coat, Whiskers said,
Warm enough, but a bit uncomfortable. You should consider a diet. There's not a lot of room in here.

After another ten minutes, they reached the shore where the cold water was replaced by frosted mud. Finally, they arrived at the paved road leading back to Norkon. With solid ground beneath his hooves, Bethesda's pace picked up. Hamilton sent out a call to Thalia. No response. He tried again with the same result.

On the outskirts of town, Hamilton reined in his horse.
What's the matter? I was kind of looking forward to a warm stable and some oats. A blanket or two would be nice as well.

"Sorry, boy. I wouldn't mind some warmth too, but we're not very welcome in Norkon right now."

What do you mean we? Nobody cares about me or the horse. Why don't you just drop us off at the inn? We can wait for you there.

"Don't you want to be a part of what's about to happen?"

No. You can play hero if you want, but all I want is that big fish you promised.
Whiskers climbed up within the coat and stuck her head out beneath Hamilton's chin.
How about it, Old Man? Deal's a deal.

Hamilton thought for a moment and then agreed. As dawn had yet to reach the horizon, it was dubious that any one would see him if he rode to the inn. He geed up Bethesda and fifteen minutes later Hamilton dismounted in the stable. The stable master was nowhere to be seen so Hamilton led his horse to a stall, provided food and water after wiping him down, and then, with Whiskers on his shoulder, entered the inn.

The little bell above the door tinkled. Hamilton stood for a moment inside the door absorbing the warmth. Roscoe's sleepy-face rose up from behind the counter. “Master Citrine. Are you okay, sir?"

"I'm fine, boy. Some reason I shouldn't be?"

"Well, after you killed the dragon, there were a lot of angry people looking for you."

"Really?"

"Yes. A bunch of them came in here. Mr. Thackeray tried to stop them, but they broke into your suite. The busted up some of the furniture, but I guess you got your stuff out before they arrived."

"Your town has as strange way of saying thanks for slaying their dragon."

"You're right, Master Citrine."

"Hamilton."

"Yes, sorry, sir, er, Hamilton. But ten of them died when the dragon came down."

"Listen, Roscoe. I told those people to stay back. I didn't want a crowd there, but someone spread the word and it was a mob scene when I arrived. Some idiot was even selling tickets. Hell, the crowd should have been after him, not me. Are they still looking for me?"

"I don't think so. Once the people sobered up, I think they decided that killing Thermite was more important than the people who died. Besides, the ones who died weren't locals. Do you want me to make your room ready?"

"I suppose so. Right now, I'm just going to drop off Whiskers."

The fish, Old Man.

"I need you to get her a fish. A big fish,
satisfied, cat?
, and put it in a bowl. Get her some water as well. I'll be back later."

"Right away, Mas ... Hamilton."

"Good, boy!” Hamilton flipped a royal to Roscoe and then headed back toward the street.

"Wait.” called Roscoe. “I've got some hot coffee. Let me get you some to take with you."

While waiting for Roscoe, he called out to Thalia again and again, but there was no response. At first, he was upset that he couldn't contact her, but after a bit of thought, he realized that if the Guild was still dark, then the air in the Guild was still polluted with that foul smoke. Even if Thalia found what she was searching for, it would be a while before she could contact him. Still, if she couldn't find the trigger and let him know soon, there was little he could do here.

Outside the inn, Hamilton nullified his youth spell so that should a townsman spot him, he would not be recognized. Then he hiked to the area that Whimper had identified as being the greasy pit. He passed only two people on the way and neither gave him a second look. By the time he reached the pit, the first fingers of dawn battled with the thinning clouds.

The pit was about thirty feet deep and spanned almost a city block. There was a rectangular foundation at the bottom of it, but it was all stained black by the Devil's Blood. Around the unfinished foundation was a black moat.

He again tried Thalia while he crouched down near some candleberry bushes and sipped some of the hot dark coffee Roscoe had provided. She did not respond. As he hid in the bushes, he watched for signs of Tummin and his minions.

When he finished up the last of the coffee, he heard the sound of an approaching wagon. The wagon stopped at the far edge of the pit opposite Hamilton. Duck and Melvin began unloading the dozen barrels from the cave and placing them in a semi-circle around their side of the pit with several feet of space between them.

Hamilton worried. He still could not contact Thalia.

Melvin now removed the barrels’ lids. Duck climbed into the wagon. Tummin, carrying one of the masks, said something to Melvin and then walked over to Duck and spoke to him as he climbed down from the wagon, torch in hand.

Hamilton took out his wand, held it by his ear, and did an amplify spell. He heard Tummin say, “...because he will be here and I want to blast that fool into ashes."

"But doesn't he have one of your masks?"

"It doesn't matter. Unless the filter is replaced, they only work once and he's had his once."

Hamilton looked down at his mask and frowned. So much for plan A. He placed the mask on the ground.

Topaz joined the two. “Time to light the barrels?"

Tummin shook his head. “No. Not yet. I'm waiting for that meddlesome Citrine to show up. He'll pay for killing Hardension and my dragon. I want to see him suffer."

"That's stupid.” Topaz snorted. “After we light the barrels, he'll be just another old man and, without his powers, he's nothing. Besides, Hardension was an ass. We're better off without him and you know it."

"Sure he was an ass, but he was still useful, but my dragon, my beautiful dragon ... Do you have any idea how many failures I had before Thermite was born? And now he's dead."

"So what? Now that you know how to make them, it's no big deal."

"Wrong. It's a big deal to me. And as I'm running this show we're going to do it my way, right?"

Topaz looked down and said nothing.

"Right?” Tummin repeated, much louder this time.

"Right, right. It's your show.” Then he looked around. “Where's Melvin?"

"I sent him out to scout around the site. Citrine may already be here."

A wave of panic swept over Hamilton as he heard foot falls behind him. He spun and reached for his wand.

Melvin charged at him. Hamilton's hand slipped past his wand and instead drew forth Hardension's dagger.

"Here,” screamed Melvin. “He's over here.” Melvin must have seen the blade, but his momentum slammed him into Hamilton. With a wrenching sound, he impaled himself on the sharp blade. Hamilton toppled over backwards from the impact. Still clinging to life, Melvin pummeled Hamilton. He managed to land several solid blows, but his strength ebbed until his body became dead weight. It twitched for a few seconds and went still.