“Mmm. Well, I decided that I wouldn’t kill you. You see I treasure people like you and Shade. You are precious to me and while it was a lot money, I don’t really need money. I tend to kill for entertainment rather than wealth and keeping you alive is much more entertaining,” he explained with a smile, his dark eyes flashing. He pointed a finger at her and motioned her to come closer. Hesitantly she edged a few steps closer and he smiled again. “See, people like you and Shade genuinely care about others. You want to make the world a better, happier place,” he continued.
“And you treasure that?” she broke in, somewhat confused. It didn’t seem the sort of mentality an Assassin would have.
Chuckling lightly, Hemlock shook his head. “Not for the reason you are thinking. No, not because you are a good person, Jala. I treasure you for the entertainment. I like to watch you strive for a better world and then see realization hit that the people you are trying to save aren’t worth it. I like to watch the light die as you realize they would sell you out for a loaf of bread and there isn’t a single thing in this world worth preserving,” he explained, his words slow and drawn out.
“That isn’t true,” she objected.
Chuckling, he smiled at her and nodded. “And that is exactly what they all say. Did you know I’m a Time mage, Jala? Did you know I can see ahead and get glimpses of what will happen?” he asked.
“I have heard it mentioned,” she replied cautiously.
“I see a glimpse of you soaked in blood and screaming for death, Jala. I see all light gone from your heart and nothing but hate written on your soul. I’m going to keep you alive until I see that happen,” Hemlock whispered, his smile as cold as winter.
“Then I never need fear death and I can count you as a lifelong guardian, because that won’t happen,” Jala replied, her jaw clenched.
“We shall see. I have to be a good pretend Justicar, and go file an arrest report on you now. It’s the way they do things you know,” he said, pushing off the bars. “I’ll be back in time to show you the duel though don’t worry. I, of course, already know how it’s going to end but I don’t want to miss the expression on your face when you see it.” He began to whistle lightly as he left the room and it took her a moment to recognize the tune - The Lover’s Lament. The words sprang to her mind as the whistling continued to echo back up the stairs.
Alone you’ve left me as darkness falls.
No hope and no answer to my echoing calls.
Shaking her head, she pushed the words from her mind and paced the cell. She had never liked that song anyway. It was one of those pieces that could depress you even at a festival.
“I’ve always hated that song,” a familiar voice said from one of the cells across the room. “The lyrics are so whining you wonder why they didn’t just kill themselves instead of writing a song.”
“Jail,” she gasped, and her eyes flashed back to the door that Hemlock had disappeared through.
Movement from the cell caught her eye and she watched in quiet awe as the large man calmly slipped a hand through the bars and unlocked his own cell. “He didn’t notice me, don’t worry,” Jail reassured her as he crossed the empty room to her cell. “Now explain what is going on. I’m afraid I’m a bit out of touch on recent events.”
“You have a key?” she asked in a dumbfounded voice.
Glancing down at the key ring in his hand, Jail nodded slightly, his expression amused. “As many times as I’ve been in here, of course I do,” he replied with a light chuckle. His gaze flicked back to the door and then to her again. “We should have about twenty minutes. The reports are long ones.” Calmly he pulled a chair closer to her cell and sat down quietly taking care to keep away from the Barllen.
“He is a Time mage, Jail. He has to know you are in here,” Jala objected, wondering how Hemlock would react to having another person that knew his identity.
Calmly, Jail shook his head. “Just because he can see glimpses doesn’t mean he sees everything, Jala. Time is a fickle magic. It changes often. That rubbish he spoke of about you covered in blood. Well, that’s just one possibility and it may never happen.”
“Why do you stay in here if you have a key, Jail?” she asked in utter confusion.
“Because someone needs to relay information to certain individuals inside this building discreetly. I am the best for that particular job due to my form of magic. I can make them forget why I was arrested, or release me when I’ve accomplished what I need to do. There is, of course, the bonus of getting to smack around Justicars as needed as well. We are wasting time though. Why are you in here? I wouldn’t be surprised to see Finn or Valor land in one of these cells but to see you here, well, I’m rather shocked.” Jail spoke in low tones and leaned toward the cell.
“I’m here for impersonating a High Lady,” she replied her tone disgusted. With a heavy sigh she sat down cross-legged on the floor across from him and looked up to his concerned face. “They were going to kill Marrow and then Wisp drew steel. I didn’t see any other way to get out of it, Jail. I couldn’t let them kill Marrow or Wisp,” she explained.
“Why would they kill Marrow? He has been in the city for months and they haven’t paid any attention to him,” Jail said shaking his head slowly.
“There are Blights hunting in the city and they are trying to blame the deaths on Marrow, but then you don’t know about the Blights do you?” Lifting both hands to her face she rubbed her eyes and let out a long slow breath. “And now Finn is about to fight Kithkanon and I won’t be there and if he dies …,” her voice trailed off slowly and she stared down at the floor in despair.
“I know what the Blights are. I didn’t know they were in the city. As far as I knew they were only affecting Glis and Arovan. This changes things drastically. So they are calling a council now to determine if you are truly a Merrodin?” Jail spoke slowly as though working through the new information. “That could take several days, Jala, depending on how quickly the high lords respond to their summons,” he said after a moment and she felt her shoulders slump farther.
“I didn’t know what else to do,” she said miserably.