Hemlock And The Dead God's Legacy (Book 2) by B. Throwsnaill Page B

was delayed prior to meeting with you.”
    “Go on.”
    “I had decided to nap the prior afternoon.  After I fell asleep, I had a dream.   It was one of my special dreams where I am called by a spirit from another world and asked to help them.  I answered their call.  This made me sleep for many hours.  That’s why I was late for your meeting.”
    “Our mystics say that time passes more slowly in other worlds.  Perhaps that’s why you slept so late.”
    Why hasn’t he ever mentioned this to me before?
    “What else do they say about my dreams?”
    “Nothing specifically, but they think that you sleep so long because of the slower passage of time in the other places that you reach out to.”
    “Interesting.  I guess that would make a weird sort of sense.  But listen: something unusual happened to me at the end of this dream.  In the few times that I’ve aided spirits in this way, I’ve always been able to help them confront their problems and survive them.  I don’t think I did that this time.  I think the spirit I was helping was defeated.”
    “Really?  I suppose it’s possible, although I’ve never seen someone with your type of power before.  Is it possible that there is one greater than you?”
    “I…I don’t know.  I saw a man dressed in a tricorne hat and ancient looking clothes.  His eyes glowed like he was a monster.  He carried something.”
    Hemlock paused, not wanting to mention aloud the thing that he carried.
    “What did he carry?” asked Tored.
    “The same thing that we seek on this journey—the same type of wand that Safreon wielded and that I destroyed after defeating Falignus.”
    The two walked on in silence for several minutes.  Hemlock was anxious to hear Tored’s reaction, but her hopes for some advice were not immediately met.
    “What happened next?”
    “He used the wand on the woman I was helping.  But as he did so, I became conscious of his mind for a moment.  And he sensed me, too.  Then he drove me away, and my link was broken.”
    “Have you discussed this with Gwineval?”
    “No, you’re the first one I’ve confided in.”
    “Why?  I’m no wizard.  It seems to me that Gwineval would give far better advice on a matter such as this.”
    “He might know more about lore and things like that, but you can give me a gut reaction.  That has value, too.  And I didn’t want Gwineval to insist on me staying in the City for another moment.”
    “Hemlock, if there is a being out there wielding a wand such as you speak of, then you have to consider that he may be returning to the City.”
    “I know.  I thought of that.”
    “ Then why did you leave?”
    Hemlock felt like a vulnerable part of her psyche had just been invaded by someone she trusted.  She experienced strong feelings of guilt that she had carefully locked away in her mind. 
    But I had to get away from those wizards and those blasted responsibilities!
    “Tored, do you think the tricorne man will return before I get back to the City?”
    “No, I don’t—but I can’t be sure.  Remember how we just discussed that time passes more slowly in other worlds?  If this man was on another world when you fought him , then chances are that it will take him some time, in our terms, to arrive.”
    Thank the light!
    “I hope you are right.  And I feel that you are right.  I think that’s why I felt all right leaving the City.  I would never desert my friends and family—but I really needed to get away.”
    “Hemlock, it may take some time—maybe years—but this man with the glowing eyes will surely arrive eventually.  You must prepare for him.  And you have to tell Gwineval so that he can help you.”
    Hemlock felt better , and she was pleased that she had decided to tell Tored.
    “Tored, I’m sure I don’t even need to ask—but can you keep this between us?”
    Tored turned and placed his hand on her shoulder. “Of course, but please heed my advice and tell Gwineval when you get