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Catalyst(97)

By:Marc Johnson


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When the sun sank to the horizon, painting the sky in deep purples and pinks, I returned to the tent where I thought Master Stradus would be. Instead, I found the princess.

She was bent over the map, scrutinizing the drawing of her kingdom and the stone pieces on the board. She glanced up, and our eyes met. This was my chance to apologize and to tell her how I felt. Instead, I froze.

She didn’t say anything. She stood up, ignoring the map, and watched me.

“Forgive me, Your Highness,” I said, breaking the silence. “I was looking for my master.” I bowed, then turned and walked to the entrance. “I’ll leave you alone.”

“Hellsfire.”

I stopped. Suddenly, I realized what a coward I was being. I turned around. “I’m sorry for what I said earlier. You have a kingdom to think of. I have to remember that. It was just so hard to leave you there, with Premier, and I was terrified something would happen to you before I had a chance to bring help. And if anything were to happen to you…I don’t know what I’d do.”

The princess didn’t say anything. She walked closer. Her being so close made me nervous, and my fire disappeared. I held my breath, afraid to even breathe on her. I had forgotten how tall she was. “But you did come. And you did bring help.”

“I keep my promises, Your Highness.”

“We're alone. You may call me Krystal.”

I nodded, not trusting myself not to say something stupid again.

“If we survive this,” she said, “Alexandria will owe you a great deal. You'll be richly awarded.”

I shook my head. “I didn't do this for money or power.”

“Then why did you do it?”

This was an echo of our very first conversation, in the woods near Sedah. And the answer was still the same. “Because it was the right thing to do, and…for you.”

I met her violet eyes and smiled. She smiled back. I saw the remains of tears on her cheeks, as though she’d been crying before I came in. I took a chance and gently put my hand to her face, wiping them away. Her eyes filled, and more tears spilled over. Despite her vulnerability, she looked stronger—not weaker—when she cried.

If she were anyone else but a princess, I would have kissed her. I wanted to—needed to. I let my hand fall and took a step back. In a surprising move, she took a step closer, her warm body brushing mine.

I cleared my throat and whispered, “Krystal, Princess, what are you doing?” I tried to lean back, but any farther and I was going to fall.

“Be quiet, hero,” Krystal said, leaning closer and putting her fingers against my lips. She ran her fingers slowly through my hair. I shivered. She pulled me closer until our bodies pressed together. She groaned softly from the pain in her side.

“Krystal! Are you all right?” She held on tighter.

“I'm fine. You worry too much.”

Krystal moved closer and brushed her lips on mine. Everything slowed. It was stronger than any magic I had ever experienced. Emotions flowed through my body as I returned the soft kiss. I was drawn into our own little world, where I only wanted to be with her. Nothing else mattered. As unexpectedly as it had begun, the kiss ended. Krystal released me and stepped back. I stood there, dumbfounded, my eyes still closed, dwelling on that magical kiss. Finally, I blinked and shook my head.

“Wha-wha-what was that for?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

“For luck, hero.” Krystal kissed me on the cheek and smiled one last time before she glided out of the tent.

I stared after her. I couldn’t believe that the princess of Alexandria had kissed me. If I survived the battle, perhaps things might not be so bad. Perhaps a simple farm boy could be more.

But I couldn’t think about the future now. I first had to make sure that Krystal survived and Premier died. It all came down to that. Too much rode on today—far too much for a wizard-in-training and a young man from Sedah. I gazed up, praying the gods would walk with us.





CHAPTER 22



I met everyone at the edge of camp. I walked past the fifty elves and dwarves that had been chosen for this mission. Unlike those I had seen earlier, these elves and dwarves were older and had bodies full of scars. Their faces were grim and their eyes were hard.

I went to the front of the group, where my friends were. Cynder towered over all, letting everyone marvel at him; Master Stradus, a bucket of water at his feet, was talking to Sharald; and Jastillian, Prastian, Behast, Demay, and Krystal were busy discussing the attack.

“Sure took you long enough,” Cynder said and snorted. “We don’t have all night.”

“Forgive me, everyone,” I said. “But I can't fly like some creatures here.”