Hemlock And The Wizard Tower (Book 1) Read Free Page B

slap in the face: feelings of sorrow and despair were rolling over her mind, and they were almost incalculably strong.
    S he had to act decisively, as s he realized this was the strongest magic spell she ’ d ever encountered.
    The Portcullis stood at the end of a shallow tunnel, with an arched roof of masonry formed by the line rendered by the top of the Portcullis, where it met the wall. There was nothing to climb to, and there was no way to climb over. The seam w here the P ortcullis met the upper masonry was impenetrable.
    She noted the space behind the P ortcullis for the first time. It was a shadowy hallway , which was a continuation of the one housing the Portcullis. At the end of it, perhaps twenty feet further, there was a pair of large, ornate wooden doors. Between the doors and the inside of the Portcullis, Hemlock beheld the legendary Demonic Gargoyles. 
    It was said the Gargoyles had been animated from the rafters of the Hall of the Senate on the Night of Ninety-Nine Tears, and they had taken hostage two of the strongest fighters of the City, who were also Senators. It was also said they had since rested in eternal guard of the Wizard Tower, and any intruder that managed to defy impossible odds and cross the Moat, enter the Drawbridge, and penetrate the Portcullis, would be torn to bits by them.
    T heir forms were winged and composed of smooth gray granite. Their hindquarters were powerful, their hands tipped with talons, and their wings were massive and folded. Their faces were grinning death masks with exaggerated, animalistic features. They inspired an instinctive urge for flight in Hemlock (though it felt weaker than the melancholy attraction of the Portcullis) as she fell under their gaze.
    Though they betrayed no properties beyond that of normal stone statues, she felt she was being stalked by cunning and merciless predators.
    The sorrow that had almost overcome her moments before returned with a renewed force, and overshadowed the fear inspired by the Gargoyles. It was a two-pronged mental assault of fear and melancholy.
    S he needed to act decisively.
    She considered the Gargoyles would surely attack her if she somehow managed to get inside the Portcullis. She assumed they would eviscerate her in short order, and the wizards would find her remains in that hallway some days henceforth, and would wonder what impetuous soul had ventured that far within their defenses.
    She also considered she really didn’t have any means to bypass the Portcullis. She had a file in her set of lockpicks, but it was small and it would take her weeks to file through that iron. She judged she only had minutes to spare. The temptation of capitulating to the Portcullis railed against her self-control mercilessly, and it held an attractive promise: an end of suffering.
    She quickly realized there could be only one solution. She considered an idea that the only force that could possibly open or destroy the Portcullis was the Gargoyles. She wondered whether the wizards had thought of that possibility. She felt her life depended on their having overlooked it.
    She assumed the Gargoyles would animate if she entered their side of the hallway. The Portcullis prevented this: but not completely.
    She ran up to the Portcullis, and focused her mind completely on resisting the melancholy as she embraced the cruel iron and extended her limbs through the spaces between the bars.
    If her initial plan didn’t work, she knew she would soon be hanging from those spikes in a willing , dying embrace.
    Her hands extended to their full length and reached out toward the Gargoyles. She supported herself with her upper arms as they pressed against the cold bars, and took a low stance, as she also extended her legs through the bars and touched the ground on the other side of the Portcullis with her feet.
    The Gargoyles awoke. Their eyes glowed with an anti–light which appeared as some sort of active darkness. They didn't move at first, but all the