What Once Was One (Book 2) (14 page)

“I didn’t know they had honor,” Behast said.

“I don’t know if it’s honor, but they do have rules in their society,” Jastillian said. “Keep still and whatever you do, don’t interfere unless others interfere first.”

“Yeah, me do!” Kemek said and yelled out a battle cry.

Kemek lunged toward the humongous troll, surprising him and toppling him to the ground. The troll got up and flung Kemek off him. Kemek landed on an imp and squashed him. Everyone formed a circle around them, yelling and cheering.

“Kill dumb troll!”

“Squash goblin! Squash goblin!”

“Kill each other!” an ogre said, and all the ogres standing around laughed. “And we’ll eat you both!”

The troll seized the huge club hanging at his side and Kemek drew his battered, oversized sword. The troll swung his club, which was easily the size of Kemek. Instead of dodging, Kemek blocked the club with his sword, holding it at bay. No wonder his sword was so beat up. His two hands ground into the handle and his muscles pulsated.

I was surprised at Kemek’s strength. I didn’t know where he got it from, but his scrawny arms held their own. The two combatants growled and snarled, glaring into each other‘s eyes. The strain took its toll on little Kemek as the troll pumped more of his strength into his weapon. He was toying with Kemek, sporting a malicious grin as he did so. The goblin warrior looked like he was going to lose. How could a lone goblin stand up to a troll? My heart went out to him.

In a skillful move, Kemek stopped struggling and gave ground, allowing himself to slip under the massive club. The club whizzed by him, grazing against Kemek’s helm. The troll stumbled forward and tripped. Kemek seized his chance. He ran behind the troll and hopped on his back. Kemek stabbed his sword through him, over and over again until the troll plummeted to the earth. The troll yelled in agony, the dark, thick blood flowing from his body.

The troll tried to use his long reach to swat Kemek off him, but it was futile. Kemek raised his sword, giving one mighty roar, and rammed his sword through the troll’s neck. The troll fell limp. All of the surrounding goblins yelled in unison, including us. All the non-goblins turned their backs and dispersed. The trolls took one last look at their friend and left. The goblins all moved towards the carcass, diving on it like vultures.

“Well fought,” Behast said, and nodded.

“Me show trolls that me mighty warrior! Me sore though.” Kemek stretched his neck and rotated his arms. “You guys want first bite after me?” He pointed to the deceased troll and his mouth salivated.

“No, we ate already,” I said. My stomach churned. Not only because of how gross it would have been to eat raw troll flesh, but because part of me wanted to dig in.

Kemek shrugged. The goblins around us had hungry eyes, but waited for Kemek to eat first. “We
all
great warriors in city, not just me. Like to see you there.”

“Maybe you will,” Jastillian said, stroking his dirty beard. “Maybe you will.” By the way his eyes gleamed, I knew he would go one day.

Kemek turned and dove into his dead opponent. The other goblins followed suit. They savagely tore apart the troll, ripping chunks of flesh out of the wounds he’d suffered from Kemek. Some didn’t even bother to tear the flesh apart, just used their sharp teeth to bite off pieces of the troll.

“We had better be on our way,” Behast said, his face paling to a light green.

“And this time, please don’t anger anyone else, Demay,” Prastian said.

“Hey, it wasn’t my fault.
He
bumped into
me.”

We left the feeding frenzy and traversed the streets back toward the tower. We skittered up against the side of the old buildings, trying to avoid everyone. We didn’t want to get into another fight. Without the larger group I felt exposed. Other groups that would have avoided the larger group, made it a point to force us out of the way. It was as if they craved another fight because they knew they could beat us.

We didn’t merge with any other goblin groups, but began to shadow one group after another to make it less obvious there were only five of us. Slowly, we angled our way closer to the tower.

“That was an enlightening experience,” Demay said.

“Enlightening?” Behast asked. “That’s not what I would call it. I still wouldn’t hesitate to kill a couple of them if the situation warranted it.”

“Most of the goblins I’ve seen are cowardly and follow whoever’s in charge,” Jastillian said. “But Kemek and his band are different. I’ve got to go to that city the next time I go on an expedition. I‘ll need you to perform your ritual again.”

“Are you sure? I have no interest in venturing deep into the Wastelands again. You’ll be without my magic and you could lose control.”

Jastillian peered into the distance. His tiny nose scrunched and he nodded. “I’ve thought about it and it’s worth the risk. Just like it was worth coming here. If I die here or there, I will have seen and done what no other historian has.” A huge grin was plastered on his face.

“If we survive this, I’ll do what I can.”

An imp peeked out from under a rusted scrap of metal. He cradled a small shard of it in his tiny hand. His neck stretched forward as his eyes ran over us.

“Why’s he staring so intently at us?” Demay asked.

“Oh no,” I said. “Imps aren’t normally found near Alexandria, right?”

“No,” Jastillian said.

“Then when Rebekah and the others got blood for us, I doubt they got any imp blood. Without any imp blood in the ritual—”

“That means they can see us!” Behast said.

The imp continued to stare at us, scratching his little horn. Soon, he dropped his mouth and shook his head. His hand trembled.

“You…you…you not goblins,” he said in a high-pitched voice as he backed away. “You—”

Behast kicked the scrap metal aside and reached for the imp. The imp sliced Behast’s hand with his shard of metal, but Behast just grunted and ignored the pain. He plucked the shard from the imp’s hand and threw it away, lifting the little creature high into the air. The imp struggled, flailing his arms, but he couldn’t break Behast’s brute strength. Behast squeezed until the imp’s tiny head popped off.

“That takes care of that,” Behast said, throwing the imp’s limp body away. A goblin picked up the body and took a bite. Behast tore off a piece of his tunic to wrap around his hand. “Let’s avoid any imps and any other creatures that aren’t located near Alexandria. We might run into something more...fierce.”

I stopped and stared at the goblin munching on the imp, wondering if that was necessary. Meeting Kemek, hearing my goblin spirit within, and seeing Masep up close made me realize that the creatures lurking within the Wastelands were more than just monsters. They were people. Monstrous and very strange people, but still people. I had to remember that when I had a choice about killing them. I wanted to get back to Alexandria and tell Krystal of this. What would she think? She had been trained her whole life to think of them as the enemy.

We finally made our way to the tower, stopping twenty feet from the only visible entrance. We stood out, having nowhere to blend in. It stood alone, on a rocky island in the midst of an abyss, and none of the creatures dared to approach it. A spiky gate, twenty feet high, blocked the only pathway across. Two ogres and two wolves guarded it. With my wizard’s sight, I could also see an eerie black, electrical energy emanating from the gate, designed to kill or injure those that would try to pass through uninvited.

Many magical secrets must be buried in the tower. While I was scared of what I would find in there, a part of me was also excited.

“I don’t see another way in,” Prastian said.

I shook my head. “Me neither, and the gates are fortified by enchantments. Looks like we’re going to have to figure out a way to get past the guards.”

The ogres were completely encased in shiny red armor with wicked spikes. It wasn’t dented, worn, or rusted like the armor most of the creatures in the city wore. The ogres stood at attention, scanning the occasional creature that passed by. Their huge longswords were unsheathed, points resting on the ground in front of them. They kept both hands on the pommels, ready to attack at a moment’s notice. The wolves, twice as big as normal dogs, were attached to metal posts with thick chains, long enough to allow them to cover all the ground in front of the gate. They barked and growled at everyone who came near.

I glanced up at one of the tower’s open windows. Was Premier watching us even now from one of the shadowed alcoves? I looked back down, past the barking wolves and the ferocious ogres. I couldn’t worry about that now. First, we had to get past these guards.

We were all quiet, trying to figure out how to get inside, as the low mist swirled around us. None of us could come up with any idea. It was getting late. I didn’t want to be camped out here with no protection, surrounded by thousands of creatures under these black clouds. There had to be a way.

I clenched my fists and bit the inside of my lip, but it wasn’t me who came up with a plan. It was the goblin.

His fear nearly made my knees buckle. A memory of him watching as a group of goblins were summoned and escorted into the tower flashed in my mind. He had worried that it was going to be him and his friends.
 
Premier’s voice had boomed from the tower. Two hours later, the whole of Masep was chilled into silence as Premier’s pet ogre, Baal, hung the goblins from one of the windows. Their flayed bodies flapped in the wind, entrails dangling from their sliced abdominal cavities. They were meant to serve as an example of what befell those who displeased Premier.

I wrapped my arms around me, shivering from that memory. But the memory of Premier’s disembodied voice emanating from the tower gave me an idea. I told the others of my plan and they agreed with it.

We shuffled up to the gates and kept our heads down. I took a deep breath, forcing myself to ignore the frantic yelling of my goblin spirit. He wanted me to sprint away as fast as I could. He thought the same thing would happen to him as had happened to those other goblins, even though he was dead. Goblins never went into the tower. Ogres, yes. Trolls, occasionally, but never goblins unless they did something horribly wrong.

I dragged my feet forward, remembering my duty. I summoned the wind and prepared to use a little trick Stradus had taught me. It wouldn’t require much magic, so hopefully Premier wouldn’t detect it. I recalled Premier’s smug, arrogant, voice as clearly as I could. The memory made me dig my fingernails into my hand. I could never forget his voice, nor what he had done to Krystal, to Alexandria, and to Stradus.

“The little runts have come to die,” one of the ogres said, bearing down on my friends with his sword raised. The ogres sported malicious grins.

Before the ogres or wolves could tear us apart, I bowed my head so no one could see my mouth, and muttered, “Let them pass.” Everyone heard Premier’s voice coming from the direction of the castle.

“Master?” the ogres asked. They lowered their swords, confused looks on their faces.

“Let them in and be quick about it!” I said, the voice booming along the stone bridge. The few creatures in the road stopped and gazed towards the castle. Gradually, the entire city fell into silence.

The ogres put aside their swords. It took their combined strength to open the gates, the hinges creaking loudly. They each grabbed one of the barking wolves, holding them back as we passed by. The wolves howled and snapped at us, their ears pressed against their heads. The spell I’d used had contained no wolf blood, and they could see and smell us as we really were. At least they couldn’t communicate with the ogres. At least, I hoped they couldn’t.

“We’ll soon be seeing their bodies strung up for the vultures to eat,” one of the ogres said, and laughed.

I took point as we prepared to cross the wide, ancient stone bridge, ready to scout for any other magical safeguards, and to be the first line of defense
 
if Premier or another guard peered out of one of the windows and saw us coming. Before starting out on the stone bridge, I stomped down hard on it, concerned about how secure it was. It was wide enough to carry carriages, horses, and whatever other monsters Renak had dreamed up, but the bridge looked like it had lost its war with time. Cracks raced under our feet and the edges of the bridge had chipped and fallen away like someone had taken a chisel to it.