What Once Was One (Book 2)

by Marc Johnson

  I hated the idea of taking more time to go through Stradus’s library. Every day that went by meant that Premier was that much closer to regaining his power. If only King Furlong or Princess Krystal would allow me into Alexandria’s magical archive. Over the years, they’d collected a legendary cache of magical artifacts, scrolls, and books, safeguarding them so wizards wouldn’t misuse them. I could understand the king not wanting me to have access to the archive—he didn’t know me or trust me the way Krystal did. But the princess? It hurt, after all we’d been through and after all I’d done for her, to have her turn me away as if I were another Premier or Renak.

  I also needed to return to the White Mountain to finish off the binding potion for Premier. I had found some of the rare ingredients here, but the others could only be found in Stradus’s garden.

  “Hopefully, we’ll find something tomorrow,” Prastian said. “We haven’t learned anything here that Jastillian doesn’t already know.”

  Demay pushed against the table and stood. He stretched his short elven frame and yawned. “I need a break.”

  “Me too,” I said, rising and doing the same thing. “Would you like to come with me to the marketplace?”

  Demay nodded.

  “Do you two want anything?”

  Prastian peered at Jastillian, who shook his head no. “Thank you, but we’re fine.”

  Demay and I left the library and walked the stone halls of the castle’s keep. My heavy feet clattered against the floor, but Demay’s light footsteps didn’t make a sound. Demay greeted the guards we passed by. Their stony faces relaxed and they returned his greeting with a nod. Some of them even acknowledged me, which is more than I got from the servants who passed us. They edged by, not looking me in the eye.

  The stone halls were decorated with great tapestries of dragons, Alexandria’s symbol. Right before the exit into the courtyard, I lingered at a mural of Shala fighting Renak in the War of the Wizards. I ignored the sensationalized streaks of red and blue lightning shooting out of their hands, and concentrated on the background.

  Shala stood on fertile ground, full of grass and lush trees. Renak stood in a barren and desolate place. Clearly, the builders of Alexandria believed that Renak had caused the Wastelands to be created. But how? I looked at Demay, still walking toward the courtyard, and wondered if the young elf could be right about the nexus and the Great Barrier.

  I rushed to catch up to him and headed into the fresh air and sunlight. We walked by a giant marble fountain with a dragon on top, water pouring out of his mouth. My old friend Cynder, the dragon who had been Stradus’s guardian and companion, always laughed when he saw it. According to him, no self-respecting dragon would spit water instead of fire.

  I searched the castle grounds, hoping to see the giant red dragon. He wasn’t in his normal, resting spot within the castle walls, next to his little shrine that the Alexandrians had erected to honor him. People constantly came to see him, giving him little carvings of himself, slabs of beef, whole chickens, and incense and candles. The people worshipped him, making him far more unbearable than he normally was.

  We crossed near the practice yard, where a group of soldiers sparred with each other. Through the surrounding circle of people, I saw Behast fighting a Guardsman of Alexandria. Demay yelled to Behast, whose back was turned. Behast started to turn, and the Guardsman struck him, causing him to stumble and fall. Behast recovered and glared at Demay as we walked by.

  “That felt good,” Demay said and chuckled. “He does that to me from time to time to remind me not to be distracted in battle. He’s made many an arrow fly wide.”

  We continued downhill, from the keep to the castle walls, making small talk. We greeted a guard named Jerrel, one of the few who was friendly to me. He smiled back and we went through the open gates and under the killing holes.

  Only a month had passed since the battle, and the city was still being repaired. The buildings of Alexandria all had a uniform look to them. They were square and block shaped, built mostly of stone from the Daleth Mountains, with little in the way of unique designs or elaborate decorations. Krystal had told me it was because all of their energy went into the fight to keep the Wasteland creatures at bay. They had little time or patience for frills and ornamentation.

  We wandered through the wealthier districts of Alexandria that housed the nobles, merchants, and craftsmen. These buildings were far nicer than in most of the city. They were large and spacious, with grass and trees between them, and almost all of them had guards and gates.

  We left that district and came to the more common part of town. This part of the city needed far more repairs than the inner city. The fighting had been heaviest here. Premier’s creatures had tried to hold the southern gates from inside Alexandria, against the allied army of dwarves, elves, and humans trying to liberate the city. The allies had broken through eventually, crusading their way to the castle. This area was bigger and housed more people, but there weren’t enough skilled craftsmen to go around. They were just now getting the castle into pristine condition.

  Fifty feet from us, a crowd swarmed around a tall woman—Princess Krystal of Alexandria. A few of her guards surrounded her, including the captain of her personal guard, Ardimus, and her close friend, Captain Rebekah, but she was never in any danger. The people adored her. She was looking back and forth between a piece of parchment in her hands, and a building that had its roof caved in. As I watched, she began giving the workmen orders about what she wanted done. They dispersed and when she turned, her eyes met mine.

  As always, I became lost in the princess’s enchanting violet eyes. The thumping in my chest increased, drowning out the chatter of the surrounding people. The air left my lungs and that inner fire within me burned brighter. It was only a moment, but she always made me feel that way.

  She allowed herself a small grin and broke the eye contact.

  I sighed, trying not to stare at her. I wished I could spend more time with Krystal, but we agreed that we shouldn’t be seen in public together unless it was during a special function. Our relationship was a secret, both for her sake and her father’s.

  “Why don’t you go to her?” Demay asked, jolting me out of my thoughts.

  I looked down at the little elf and raised my right eyebrow. Did he mean what I think he meant? I brought my hand up to my face and wiped the little droplets of sweat away. I wanted to smack myself. I was a fool for letting my look linger for too long. I cleared my throat and asked, “What do you mean?”

  “We elves have a saying, ‘Heed the forest.’ That means be mindful of your surroundings and listen to what’s out there.” Demay had a small smirk on his face. “We all know about you and the princess.”

  I stopped, and my back stiffened. “Have you or the others told anyone?”

  He shook his head. “Of course not. It’s none of their business.”

  I blew out a small stream of breath. I was thankful for that. I risked glancing back at her. “Things between us are...complicated.”

  “That’s what my brother said too,” Demay said. The elf was silent for a moment. “In time, I think you can change things. You saved the king, helped save the city—”

  “From another wizard.”

  “From another wizard, and are going to make sure Premier is no longer a threat. You humans are overly emotional creatures, but you have short memories. They’ll remember what you did for them lately.”

  “You think?”

  “In time.” He smiled at me. “Jastillian even told me they’re writing a song about you in Erlam.”

  I laughed. “Really?”

  He nodded.

  I shrugged, allowing a glimmer of hope to seep into my mind. “I guess anything’s possible then.”

  We resumed our walk and finally reached the market. Although it was crowded, with people pressing in on all sides, there always seemed to be a space around me and Demay. I knew it wasn’t the fact that he was armed that made people edge away. It was the
sight of my wizard’s robes, and their fear of anyone who wore them. I sighed and strode on to the booth selling honey bread.

  A little girl ran in front of us, carrying a huge loaf of bread. She stumbled and dropped the loaf.

  I bent down and picked it up. I dusted off the dirt with my hand before handing it back to her. I gave her a smile and said, “Here you go, little one.”

  “Thank you,” she squeaked.

  “Would you like to take some honey bread home with you?” I asked. “We were just about to go to that stall right over there.”

  The little girl hesitated, but her face lit up when she saw the vendor and took a huge whiff of the smell of his delicious bread. She stared at Demay with huge eyes, her mouth hanging open. “You’re an elf!”

  He bent down and tapped her on the nose. She giggled. “That’s right. Now do you want to come have a bite to eat with us? Our treat.”

  She nodded her head so hard it looked like it was going to fall off.

  Before we could move, someone yelled, “Shawna! There you are. Why did you stop?”

  Shawna put her head down in shame. “Sorry, but this nice man and elf were going to buy me some honey bread. You know how I love honey bread!”

  “You can barely hold what you’re carrying now.” The woman reached down and took the bread from Shawna, cradling it in her right arm along with the dead chicken she carried.” Her eyes widened when she saw me and she let out a tiny gasp. “Come on, Shawna, let’s go.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want us to buy it for you?” I asked.

  “No, thank you,” the mother said.

  “Do you at least need help? We can carry those home for you.”

  “No, I wouldn’t want to put you to the trouble.”

  “It’s no trouble at all.”

  “No,” she said sharply. “Let’s go, Shawna.”

  Shawna pouted but walked alongside her mother. The woman whispered to her daughter in hushed tones.

  Demay and I went to the stall and bought pieces of honey bread. But not even its sweet, sticky taste could cheer me up.

  We went back to the castle to continue our studying and planning. There wasn’t much left to do except to return to the White Mountain to find some answers there.

  After dinner, I went to my room early, hoping to see the princess. My room was far away from Krystal’s room, bordering on the servants’ quarters. There was a small section of guest rooms there, but she had told me that it was where the less desirable guests were housed. The king might have wanted me there, but Krystal had chosen that specific room for a reason.

  I was used to the smaller room, as opposed to the luxurious room I’d had when I first arrived. It was cramped, reminding me of my mother’s longhouse in Sedah, the village where I’d grown up. The nicked dresser almost touched the bed when I pulled the drawers out. The bed could hold two people, but it was a snug fit. The small window gave me a view of the wall of a tower. At least the pillows were filled with feathers and the blankets made of satin.

  There were secret passages throughout the castle and the city of Alexandria. This was one of the rooms that held one. The princess visited every night; no matter how trying her day was, she came. We talked, we cuddled, we did things that a man and woman would do. I loved spending time with her. She dropped her guard around me, knowing that she didn’t have to be the Princess of Alexandria, as I didn’t care about any of that.

  I took off my boots and lay down on the comfy bed, staring at the stone wall in front of me, waiting for it to open and for the beautiful princess to come gliding out of it. During the past week she had been coming later and later, so I struggled to stay awake, but I was so tired I nodded off.

  ----

  The soft scraping of stone walls woke me. The light in the room was almost non-existent. It was far later than I had expected—only a few more hours until dawn broke.

  I magically lit the candles in the room, keeping the light dim, and rose to meet her.

  She extinguished the torch in her hand and hung it in the gloomy tunnel. She walked inside my room and sealed the entrance. “Sorry I’m late. I should have been here sooner but I was caught up in something.”

  I stood in front of her and grinned, thankful that she had come anyway. I took her angled face in my hands. “It’s all right. You are a princess, after all.” I kissed her hard on her full, soft lips. She moaned and furiously returned it.

  We broke the kiss, and as I looked closer, I was astonished by how terrible she looked. Her sun-kissed hair was in disarray and her eyes were ringed with dark circles. She yawned.

  “Excuse me, it’s been a long night,” Krystal said, her violet eyes twinkling. “And I have a feeling it’s about to get longer.” She grinned with anticipation. “But before we get to that, I have a gift for you. One I know you’ll want.”

  I placed my hand against her waist and pulled her close until our bodies meshed together, the heat rising throughout the room. “And what could I want more than you?”

  Krystal’s face lit up and her face flushed red. “This.” She held a scroll in front of me.

  I let go of her and took the scroll, unrolling it to see what it said. I gasped when I realized it was a very powerful and ancient ritual. I stared at Krystal and opened my mouth, then shut it, wanting to finish reading before I asked any questions.

  The ritual was the perfect disguise to allow my friends and me to venture into Masep. By using the blood of the Wasteland creatures, it would fool them into thinking anyone affected by the spell was one of them. To their eyes and noses, we would smell and look like them. But like all magic, it had a cost.

  For the illusion to appear real, we would have to turn into those monsters. I would have to pull the dead creatures’ souls from the afterlife and bind them to our own with blood magic. There was only room in one’s body for one occupying soul; there was a chance those beasts could take control and we would be lost, or our bodies would die from the strain.

  I sat down on the bed, lost in thought. In a month of research, we had found no other way. It was a risk I would have to take, but I would understand if the others weren’t willing to.

  “Where did you get this?” I asked, then frowned when I realized the answer. “That secret vault of yours?”

  All tiredness in her face vanished. The lines in her face deepened and became stern. Here stood the Princess of Alexandria, hiding behind that royal mask of hers. I hated that judging, calculating, unemotional gaze where I couldn’t read how she felt or what she thought. I much preferred the fierce woman who smiled and laughed and who showed how tired and frustrated she could be. That woman only appeared when we were alone—and not always then.

  “I scoured for days, searching for information that would help you,” the princess said. “It’s similar to the way Jastillian disguises himself by wearing a goblin skin when he journeys into the Wastelands, except this illusion should hold up even at close proximity.”

  “Thanks for finding this, but if you had let me go through your vault, you wouldn’t have had to search so late or so hard.”

  Krystal shook her head and grimaced. “You know I can’t do that, Hellsfire. I have a—”

  “Duty. I know. I’ve heard it all before.”

  The princess snatched the scroll out of my hand before I could stop her. She turned to leave, but I grabbed her arm. I didn’t want her to go. Not because I needed the scroll or magic, but because I didn’t want her to be mad with me. She gave me a dagger-like stare and I immediately let go.

  “I’m sorry.” I clenched my fists. “You’re doing so much that I wanted to make things easier for you.” My shoulders slumped and I sighed. “And I wish you would trust me. I care nothing for power.”

  Krystal took a step forward and held out the scroll. “I do trust you. That’s why I’m giving this to you.” Her royal mask melted and she glanced down at the ground for a moment as if she couldn’t meet my eyes. “This may be the best spell I could find, but it’s still
very dangerous. You’ll be binding another soul to you. You may lose your own in the process. I don’t want that to happen.” She gave me a sad smile. “I’m rather fond of you.”

  She might not be a wizard, but she understood the magic behind the ritual as well as its dangers. I was going to have to make sure my friends fully understood the dangers as well. They were all warriors—they understood risking their lives in battle. But risking their souls was something else again.

  “You won’t lose me,” I said.

  Krystal lifted her hand and rubbed my cheek. I nuzzled up against it. She gazed into my eyes, but said nothing. She walked past me and stopped in front of the bed. Unfastening her cloak, then the lavender dress that bound her, she let them fall to the ground. She slipped out of her thin smock. I stared at her naked backside, my eyes tracing the curves I had gotten to know so well over the past month.

  She looked over her shoulder and a tantalizing smile passed over her lips. “Are you coming?”

  I gulped and placed the scroll on the dresser. There would be time to memorize and study it later. Having it would cut down the time I needed to spend at the White Mountain to a day or two, reducing the risk of Premier getting his power back while we were in the heart of his stronghold.

  But that was something to fret over later. Right now, I wanted to live in the moment and enjoy what little time I had left with Krystal. I pulled my robes over my head, followed by my tunic and breeches, and threw them to the floor. I crawled into bed on top of her and I brushed my lips upon her.

  Krystal smiled, but it was a tired one. It had been a trying month for her, with seeing to her people and the rebuilding of Alexandria, yet she still managed to spend time with me and search for a way to help in my journey.

  I rolled her over onto her front.

  “Hellsfire, what are you doing?”

  “Shhh.”

  I massaged her neck and shoulders, the tight, firm muscles loosening under my rough hands. The princess’s breathing increased until she panted short, sharp breaths. I continued to stroke her for several minutes, taking pleasure in making her happy. Her whole body soon fell into a familiar stance, her breathing slow and rhythmic.