What Once Was One (Book 2) (11 page)

Prastian’s green eyes stared into mine and he nodded. “I understand.”

I turned to everyone. “Don’t interrupt me and disrupt the spell. That will cause more harm to both myself and Prastian. Even if it looks like something’s wrong, or if we’re under attack.”

They nodded.

I turned back to Prastian. “Ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

I sat cross-legged in front of him and closed my eyes. The energy I had been gathering hummed in a quiet tune no one could hear but me. I reached out to the two most elusive mana—life and death. The warmth of life and the cold touch of death brushed against me like standing in a cold breeze on a warm day. I balanced and intertwined them until they became one gray mana.

The gray mana buzzed and encircled me. I clutched onto it as hard as I could, lest it escape me. I manipulated its power to open a gateway and venture where few living had ever dared to go, and where all would go when our lives ended. My body collapsed and I blacked out.

My spirit crossed over to another world. I couldn’t go into the afterlife because I still lived, but I could travel to a place between our world and the next, where the goblin could come to me.

Because of my living, mortal flesh, the boundaries of that place afflicted my soul. I froze as if my body had been dunked into the iciest lake in the midst of winter. I burned as if I were trapped in the Burning Sands, my throat parched from lack of water. I drowned, trapped in the ocean while it pulled me down.

Finally, I floated in the otherworldly void. A spectral, ghostly light surrounded me. I was staring at it, entranced by its beauty, when I realized I wasn’t alone.

Those dark spirits I had warned Prastian of reached out to me, trying to tear me from the path and lead me to my own doom. One apparition enticed me with sweet promises of power and sex. Another specter lulled me with gold and riches. I ignored all the cries and songs. They had nothing I wanted.

The tunnel I drifted in brightened and shifted into horrific pictures. The dark spirits forced images into my head—my mother’s head on the end of a pike, Krystal ravaged and beaten like an animal, dozens of people burning all around me while I fed the flames with my power.

No mortal eyes were meant to see what I saw, not even those of a wizard. I closed my spiritual eyes and mind, trying to shut out the ghostly lights before the images burned into my mind and I went crazy. Then I opened my eyes, looking only out of the corners of my eyes. The pictures continued to run, but I didn’t directly look at them. My voice, imbued by magic, penetrated the veils of death.

“The essence that once resided in this skin, please hear me.”
I said in Caleea.

While the goblins couldn’t understand the ancient language in life, in death they could. Even though I yelled, my call got lost in the loud jumbled tongues of the dead, the living spirits, and those in between. I was a single voice amidst a chorus. But since the spell was tethered to her body, she would hear me.

“I beg you to come back.”

I waited in that place between worlds. The images ceased, but the light around me dimmed. Shadows surrounded me, coming over, trying to pull and tug at my spirit. They hoped to control me and use my body for their own purposes. They were fools. I swung my arm in a sweeping motion, propelling a blade of fire. It cut the insubstantial beings like a scythe.

The longer I stayed, the more attention I attracted and the weaker I became. A stronger entity would come—something that would take more than minor magic to fend off.

A small black hole materialized in front of me. I peered into it, believing the goblin spirit would come. Translucent green tentacles shot out from it instead, wrapping around my wrists. They yanked me towards the hole.

The hole grew bigger and an enormous, open mouth full of tentacles waited inside. The beast smacked its ghostly teeth in anticipation.

I cut through its bindings with magic and it roared. More tentacles shot out and latched onto me. No matter how many I dispersed, more came. Inch by inch, it reeled me in like a struggling fish. I stopped focusing on its tentacles and unleashed a torrent of fire into its mouth. It shrieked in pain, withdrawing all its feelers, burrowing itself back into its hovel.

I propelled myself away from the shrieking hole and flew in the ghostly tunnel, ignoring the cries and promises of the other spirits around me. When more holes popped up, I dodged those lest I be pulled in and have to cast more magic. I needed to conserve it. I had five rituals to perform.

I beckoned the goblin again, louder and with more force, even though I drew more dark spirits to me. I needed to hurry. The longer I stayed, the more I would be overwhelmed. And I worried about not having enough energy for myself and the others. There was far more at stake than I realized, and the spell scroll hadn’t gone into detail about the dangers that lay in wait.

One spirit emerged in front of me, with more substance than the rest. Her form looked as if she still lived, making me realize that she was the one I had called.

In the void, her transparent blue spirit floated next to me with a hollow look on her face. I knew goblins were ferocious and savage fighters, but I wasn’t sure how intelligent they were. Because of my friends’ sizes, we had to use goblins. The ogres and trolls were too big. Anything with too strong a spirit might also take over, and goblins were one of the weakest of the Wasteland creatures, unless they were in large groups.

I grasped onto Prastian’s mana, using it as a link so the goblin could see. “I give you a chance to live again by bonding your essence to the elf. Do you accept?”

Silence. I couldn’t tell if she pondered her choice or if she even understood me. A dark tunnel formed around us as my spell started to fade, and began to collapse. The blood magic I used was ending. If I didn’t leave now, I would be trapped here, my soul forever lost.

“I need your answer,” I said, extending my hand to her.

Stradus once told me the dead would rarely say no to living again, even if it was only for the briefest time, but the goblin’s pause made me think otherwise. She might not understand me. The exit back to my world dimmed. I had to go. I couldn’t stay any longer.

As I turned to go, she took my hand. Together, we departed the land of the dead and journeyed back into the land of the living.

A flash of light blinded me. My eyes adjusted until they brought the world into view. Everything was tilted to the side, including Prastian’s tense and worried face. I pulled myself off the ground and sat up straight. Thankfully, Prastian didn’t move from his circle and the others didn’t break it.

“Are you all right?” Prastian asked.

I nodded and in a hoarse voice said, “I’m almost done. Prepare yourself. This is going to hurt.”

Prastian’s body stiffened. He couldn’t see the goblin spirit invade him. I smiled and let go of the tiring black and white manas. I worked Prastian’s green mana, interweaving it with the spirit. Dipping my hand in the mixed Wasteland blood Rebekah had provided, I created markings across Prastian’s forehead, cheeks, nose, and ears. Normally, I wouldn’t do the ears, but elves believe that’s where an elf’s soul is, and this spell was going to bind to his soul.

“May the two essences combine and let those of this blood see only the outer skin,”
I said and took a deep breath. I was exhausted and still had a lot more work to do. “There. It’s done.”

“I don’t feel any different,” Prastian said. His green eyes shifted up and down and his ears twitched.

“You will.”

Prastian’s eyes suddenly bulged out. He squeezed his chest, gasping for air. The goblin spirit branched into Prastian’s soul as the two became one. Prastian screamed. His body went taut,
 
then collapsed on the ground. He didn’t move for several long minutes.

“Brother!” Demay said, wanting to rush to Prastian, but Behast grabbed him. “Let me go! What’s happening to him? Is he all right?”

Prastian’s body shuddered. He slowly rose and his eyes were glazed over. He peered at his own hand as if he hadn’t seen it before.

“How do you feel, Prastian?” I asked.

“Strange,” he said sounding awed. “It’s like having someone inside me with their cravings, thoughts, and feelings. It’s amazing, yet scary. I’m—”

Prastian became quiet and his whole body froze. He didn’t even blink.

I waved my hand in front of him and asked, “Are you all right?”

He didn’t respond to me. I was about to reach out to his spirit to see if I had done something wrong, when Prastian leapt at me. He landed on top of me, slamming me to the ground.

Prastian lashed out with his fingers, slashing at my face, his own contorted in a vicious snarl. I summoned my magic to attack him, but stopped when I remembered who he was. I tried to get a hold on him, but he was so fast and strong and I didn’t want to hurt my friend.

Behast and Jastillian seized Prastian, binding his arms in place. Prastian still struggled, snapping his teeth at them.

“What happened, Hellsfire?” Demay asked. “What did you do? What’s happened to my brother?”

I touched the cut on my face, feeling fresh blood on it, and stared at Prastian. I leaned over him for a closer look, but when I did, it just agitated him more. “I’m not sure. He seemed fine a second ago.”

I told the others to contain Prastian so he wouldn’t squirm. I scooted over to him, placing my hand on his face. I forced open his eyes, peering into them. Through them, I reached out to Prastian’s mana and saw his spirit deeply intertwined with the goblin’s. That was good. That’s what should have happened. The goblin spirit was overpowering the elf’s, though. I sighed. I had no idea how to separate them without ending the spell or harming Prastian.

“Snap out of it!” Demay said, pushing me aside and shaking his brother.

Prastian didn’t recognize him. He snapped his teeth snapped at Demay and struggled to break Jastillian and Behast’s grip.

Demay slapped Prastian hard. The cracking sound rang in the small cave. Prastian ceased fighting. His frantic eyes settled onto Demay, and his pupils focused on his brother. “I’m all right now. You can let me go.”

Jastillian and Behast glanced to me, and I nodded.

Prastian gave a small smile and brought his hand to his face where Demay had left a mark. “That was quite a slap you gave me.”

Demay reached out and hugged him. “You needed it.”

“I did. Thank you. Hellsfire, what happened to me? It felt as if she took control. I attacked because I recognized you all as a threat.” Prastian paused and put a hand to his chest.

Behast shifted his body, getting ready to hold him again.

“It’s all right,” Prastian said. “Controlling her takes some...getting used to. You’ll see. I
will
get used to it. We have to.”

“Just let me know if anything at all changes,” I said. “And if you feel any more outbreaks.”

He nodded.

I exhaled and looked at everyone else. “Who’s next?”

----

I was able to successfully perform the ritual on the rest of us. After each ritual, we were all on guard to see how the person would react. Everyone else’s bodies seized up much like Prastian’s did. Mine didn’t. It could have been because I was a wizard, or even because I was human. Yet, I was bone-wearied.

By the time I was done, my head was throbbing and I could barely keep my eyes open. My chest tightened and I gasped for air. The room spun, and I couldn’t stand, much less sit up. At least I had the goblin to keep me company, as strange as that sounds.

The goblin skin I wore no longer felt unnatural and weird. The flapping skin of the dead husk, which didn’t even cover my ankles, was now part of me. The nauseating stench became my own scent and I was able to tell the difference between that scent and the others’.