Catalyst (Book 1) (36 page)

My magic would always be associated with him. Master Stradus taught me what I wanted to learn the most—how to control the fire within me. But that's not all he taught me, or even the most important thing. He showed me how beautiful magic could be. How when used properly, it connected a person with everything, and those things were connected to him. He taught me that it wasn't about power or control, it was about being alive. I thought my magic was a curse because of the harm I caused. Now I didn’t think I could live without my magic. It was all because of him.

And now he was dead.

 
“You were the closest thing to a father I had. I will do as you ask. Mother was right. You truly were an angel.”

I swept my hands over his face and closed his eyes. I leaned in and kissed him on the forehead. I got up, staring at his lifeless corpse. This was my fault. If only I hadn't disobeyed him, if only we had attacked Premier together at full strength. We could have beaten him together.
Book of Shazul
or no, Stradus was the stronger wizard.

“Hellsfire,” the princess said, startling me. I had forgotten she was there.

“Yeah?”

“Come here.”

I let myself be swept up by her. Krystal reeled me in until our bodies pressed together. When I looked into her gentle, purple eyes, that's when I lost it.

I wept for my former master's death, I wept for the people who had died, and I wept for the pain the survivors would go through. The princess didn't interrupt me. She held me in a warm embrace and let me cry on her shoulder. It was several long minutes before all those pent-up emotions of fear, anxiety, and guilt were manageable. They were never going to leave completely, but I needed the time to let part of them go.

I stopped crying and sniffling. “I'm sorry, Your Highness. I don't know what came over me.”

She made my eyes meet hers. “It's all right. I understand. What did I tell you? Call me by my name when we're alone.”

“All right, Prin—Krystal.”

She smiled. “Good.”

I tried to return her smile, but couldn't manage to give her more than a small one. How did people constantly deal with all this fighting and death?

Krystal put her hands to my cheeks and wiped my tears away with her thumbs. “Relax, hero, it's over. Being too tense after battle is never a good thing.”

“I've never been through this before. I had no idea how it feels.”

Krystal leaned close to me. Unlike the first time, I made no move to stop her kiss. It was short but gentle and warm in its caress. “Feel better?”

I couldn't help but grin. “A little. Thank you, Krystal.”

“No, thank
you
, hero.”

Before we left, I retrieved my potions from downstairs. I downed half of a vial before offering the other half to Krystal.

“What's this?” she asked.

“It'll help restore your strength. It won't treat your wounds, but you'll feel better.”

She shook her head. “Take the rest. You need it.”

“No. You need it too. You've reminded me the day's not over yet.”

Krystal took the vial and drank it. “Here’s your dagger back. It came in handy, like you knew it would.”

I nodded and took it. I put on my purse before picking up my former master. He was much lighter than he should have been. The spell had done its job well.

We left the tower and walked the quiet halls. We parted ways, as she went to check on her father. I told her I would look at him later, to see if what Premier had done to him was gone. I left the castle, carrying Stradus's body in my arms.

The bright sun blinded me as I stepped outside. I walked through the courtyard and past the castle walls until I was in the streets of Alexandria. The closer I got to the gates and the carnage, the more I had to deal with the lingering smoke. I coughed, wishing it was already dark, or that the smoke was dense enough to impair my vision.

Bodies of both the alliance and the creatures lay everywhere, twisted in a way none of them could have survived. A lot of them had the same expression on their faces. It was a look of horror and agony as they met their deaths. The thick smell of blood covered their bodies. I could almost taste the metallic liquid.

Hundreds of creatures had arrows stuck in their bodies. One ogre’s gigantic corpse had sprouted so many arrows, they pinned him to the wall of a shop. Another shop’s walls had caved in. A dwarf’s feet poked out of the ruins. One human corpse was missing his arms. I walked by one arm a few feet later, seeing teeth marks in it.

Many of the human bodies I saw were without armor or proper weapons. One woman had a troll corpse draped over her body. Her head was nearly severed, but in her hands was one of the jagged swords the Wasteland creatures used. She had turned it on the creature, and it stuck out of its back. The Guardsmen had rallied the people of Alexandria, and had convinced them to fight even without weapons. Amazing.

People walked through the bodies to finish off the growling creatures that were too wounded to move. Some also finished off their moaning allies who were too injured to be helped. Every once in awhile, they would find someone who could be saved and treat them. That was too rare a sight.

The streets of Alexandria were no longer empty. As I passed the people of Alexandria, I read the relieved looks on their faces, even while they tended to the wounded and dying. They were glad the day was over and that they were out from under Premier's influence. The dwarves sang about their victory and boasted and bragged about how many they killed. The elves weren't as happy. When I asked why, I was taken aback.

Prastian had been mortally wounded, and even Jastillian had been badly hurt. I went out to the tent where Prastian was. I placed Stradus's body down before entering.

I nodded to Demay, who was sitting in the corner, tears running down his face. “How is he?” I asked King Sharald, as he sat next to Prastian's cot.

“The healers say if he makes it past tonight, he'll live.” Sharald looked up. “I'm keeping vigil, praying to the gods that will happen. Where's Stradus? He might be able to—” Sharald caught himself when he saw my former master's body lying near the open tent flaps. He sighed heavily. “He finally died, and before me. I thought he would outlive everybody.”

“He died saving my life.”

“It's what he would have wanted, Hellsfire. Stradus told me you would do things that would far outweigh what he had ever done. He said you would need help. I told him that I, and my people, would be there for you.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

Sharald turned his attention back to his younger cousin. I walked to Prastian and listened to his shallow breathing. Stradus wasn't here, but he would always be with me to guide me.

With my new wizard powers, I saw the green mana lurking within Prastian. Like Stradus's, it was fading. Even with my new powers, I was still no good with white mana. That dark place where I went to defeat Premier would be no help either. I took Prastian's hand and latched onto his mana. I fed it with all the healthy elves around me, taking their lifeforce piece by piece. Prastian's breathing eased. His heartbeat grew louder until it was strong.

Prastian slowly opened his eyes and said, “Hellsfire?”

“Brother, you're alive,” Demay said, running over and hugging him.

Prastian cried out in pain.

“Sorry. Let me fetch you some water.”

Prastian reached out to me. “Thank you, my friend.”

“Rest.”

“Thank you, Hellsfire,” King Sharald said. He glanced at the other wounded elves in the tent. “Can you do the same for them as you did for Prastian?”

“I wish I could, but I can’t. I didn't heal his wounds.”

“I understand.”

I walked out of the tent, trying not to look at the other injured elves. I wanted to put my hands to my ears to drown out their moaning. I didn't. I deserved the guilt that lingered. I saved Prastian because he was a friend, and the next ruler of Sharald.

I went to one of the dwarves' tents next, to see if I could do something for Jastillian. I smiled when I saw I didn't have to. He was sitting upright while a healer tended to his left arm.

“Lad!” Jastillian grunted when he tried to move. The healer forced him to remain still.

“How are you?”

“My arm's sore, but I won't lose it. Thank the gods for that. How are you?”

There was no easy way to say it. I managed. “Stradus died.”

“I'm sorry to hear that.”

“Me too.” I didn't want to hear anyone else giving me condolences over Stradus's death. Every time they said something, the tears in my eyes built up. I changed the subject. “What did I miss?”

Jastillian told me of how hard-fought the battle to open the gates had been. They did it, but not without heavy losses and serious injuries. Eventually, the combined forces and Wizard Stradus were too much for the creatures. They routed them at the south gates, but before they could secure the north gates, more creatures from the Wastelands had come.

Jastillian hadn’t been sure they could win that battle. Then they saw the fire I had created in the tower when I defeated Premier. After that, the creatures were confused and disoriented. The alliance used that distraction to take out the creatures. Some still fought hard, but not as a group. Others fled back to the Wastelands. A few escaped into Northern Shala. Patrols had been sent to kill those in our land.

I left Jastillian without telling him about Premier. I let him assume he was dead. I knew I had to tell everyone, but not this moment. Krystal knew. I knew it would only be a matter of time before she was obligated to tell someone.

I carried Stradus's body to Cynder. He lay down on a hill, well away from the armies and the city walls. He slept, but didn't snore, which meant he wasn't in a deep sleep. Spots of dried blood covered Cynder, and his scales were cut and slashed. I had never thought such a thing could happen to a dragon. Thankfully, he wasn't bleeding now. I was worried that the wounds were serious, and that he slept like people did before they died. I put Stradus's body down and put my hand over Cynder’s rough red scales.

Cynder flinched when I touched a wound. “What'd you do that for?”

It bothered me that he didn't snap his jaws or blow smoke at me. He might have been seriously injured in ways I couldn't comprehend. “Are you all right?”

Cynder snorted. “You're concerned about me? How touching.” He laughed, but it came out raggedy. “I'm fine. I just need to rest. Stupid, freakish, and
loud
bird. I hope it's somewhere dying. I would so love it to suffer, but the screeching would drive me insane, even from here.” Cynder focused his red eyes on Stradus. “So he's finally dead. After all the adventures we went through, I didn't think he
could
die. How did it happen?”

I told the dragon what had happened, and how Stradus saved my life. I even told him what he wanted me to do about Premier.

“The old man was always a bit soft when it came to lost causes,” Cynder said with a smirk. “He took you in.”

I chuckled at his remark. “Yeah, I guess he started being that way when he took
you
in.”

Cynder grinned and snorted smoke. “What are you going to do about Premier?”

“I'm going to do what Stradus asked. The
Book of Shazul
is far too dangerous to remain in Premier's hands.” I swept my arms towards the destruction and devastation he wrought. “Look at what he's done already.”

Cynder was going to retort when we heard cheering. I raised my right eyebrow, and
Cynder
craned his long neck to see what everyone cheered about. King Furlong and Princess Krystal walked among their people, seeing to the wounded. The sight of the rulers of Alexandria raised their people’s spirits. They lifted their tired, dirty faces to smile and wave at them. The princess saw us. She spoke to one of her guards, who ran over to us.