The Road to Magic (Book 1 of the Way of the Demon Series) (6 page)

‘Would you be so kind as to let Albert go?’ Catching Oleg’s amazed look, she quickly corrected herself: ‘Well, at least, let him go for now. Temporarily… so he can breathe properly. After all, you’re not about to kill him right here and now, are you? It really isn’t his fault. I talked him into invoking a demon.’

Oleg smirked and looked her over carefully. The crown princess of Fenrian, Grand Duchess Browdvar and so on and so forth, was a seventeen-year-old maiden who still hadn’t shed her teenage angularity and didn’t have the necessary quantity of curves required for a woman. Nevertheless, you could see that in the near future this slip of a girl would become an extremely beautiful young woman. Ataletta was endowed with all the necessities for that. A natural blond, not too tall, her figure was pretty even though not yet fully formed, a slim waist and pleasant facial features, which nevertheless showed slight imperfections, would not stop her from taking her place among the three finalists of any of the beauty contests so popular on Earth.

The same imperfection could be seen on Albert’s face, too, and if Oleg hadn’t witnessed how he had made up to the girl, he would have said they were close relatives.

Once he’d finished his thorough and even somewhat blatant examination, Oleg looked into the eyes of the princess, who was blushing at such attention, and said: ‘Well, I suppose I can let him go. I was about to let him explain himself anyway.’

Before either of the unsuccessful demonologists could give a sigh of relief, one of the snake-hairs detached itself from Oleg’s head, slithered along his arm and gently wrapped itself around the hapless Albert’s neck. Oleg released his hand and the boy tumbled to the floor like a sack of potatoes.

Smiling his sweetest of smiles, Oleg turned to the princess: ‘Your request has been granted, Your Highness. Might you have any other wishes?’

Looking at the now grey Albert, who was afraid to so much as move or even simply breathe, (the poor guy was suffering from an acute attack of serpentophobia, the fear of snakes), she mumbled to herself: ‘Valdes was right when he warned us not to get mixed up with demons unless it was absolutely necessary and if you do get involved, to formulate your thoughts clearly and unambiguously. If this is how he carries out requests, then how is he going to carry out orders?’

After listening to her little speech, Oleg countered without delay: ‘You’re right, Your Highness. If that were an order, I would have simply killed him, for the only way for a human to gain absolute freedom is death!’

The girl looked at Oleg dolefully: ‘You know, Arioch, now I think I made a big mistake in invoking you. I wanted you to save my life, but it seems that even if Albert had been able to force you to obey him, you’d have found a way to rebel. And no doubt that would have caused more people to suffer than my death would.’

‘What’s going on? You don’t look as if you’re mortally ill,’ and Oleg scanned her aura just in case. No, everything was fine. An unusually healthy girl.

‘It’s my father, the king, who’s ill. He’s slowly dying.’

‘I’m not a healer,’ Oleg shrugged his shoulders, perplexed. ‘In fact, you could say I was quite the opposite. It’s unlikely I’ll be able to cure your father. And anyway, how do you fit in?’

‘No, you can’t cure my father. It’s impossible to lift the mortal curse of a black magician. Valdes really went to a lot of trouble. But my death goes by the name of Lord Chancellor Victor Kreghist, Duke de Briion, Regent of Fenrian, my uncle.’ She gave a shuddering sigh, as though holding back tears. ‘You see, I’m the crown princess and as such I stand between my uncle and the throne. My father’s not got long left at all, and as soon as he dies, no doubt some “unfortunate accident” will befall me.’

Ataletta was about to go on, it was obvious her soul was troubled and she wanted to get everything off her chest, but Oleg interrupted her rather rudely: ‘What did you need a demon for?’

‘What for? To kill Kreghist. Assassins can’t get near him – he has many guards, and he knows magic, to boot. And hiring a magician isn’t an option; after Valdes’s death, there isn’t a magician who’ll come near us.’

‘But why do you want to kill this Kreghist? Why doesn’t he just marry you? Much easier, and nicer, too!’

‘He’s my uncle. My father’s brother. The church is categorically against such marriages. And anyway, he’s already married and has a son who he wants to make his heir.’

Oleg thought for a while. He had to find something to do in this world, anyway. He had to somehow settle in, earn some money, and find the school for magicians. By helping the princess he might be able to solve quite a few of his own problems at the same time. The main thing was to figure out if he would just be swopping one set of problems for another, maybe much worse set? And as for money… Oleg hit on a very interesting idea…

He turned to Ataletta.

‘And who’s this guy?’ Oleg rudely poked one of his claws into Albert’s side; he was frozen, like a statue.

‘That’s Albert Krozeltz, son of the High Priest of Orchis, Petronii Krozeltz. He found a book among the belongings of some magician who had been sacrificed to Orchis and decided to risk invoking a demon to help me. Please don’t kill him. If you want revenge, punish me. What difference does it make at whose hands I die, yours or one of Kreghist’s henchmen?’ she added bitterly.

‘Most laudable loyalty to your friend,’ Oleg said, looking into the girl’s doleful eyes. ‘By the way, I don’t think you’ll have to die. I don’t really have any issues with you, little Princess.’ Oleg noticed how the girl’s eyes blazed with fury at this. Blazed and went out; the crown princess of Fenrian, it seems, had a will of iron.

Oleg went on: ‘If the poor fool hadn’t tried to make me his slave when he invoked me but had tried to come to some agreement with me on friendly terms, I might have worked for you. You can both go now.’

‘And what about him?’ The princess went up to Oleg and looked searchingly into his eyes. Meeting the bottomless abyss which had recently taken up residence in them, she shuddered and turned away.

‘What about him?’ Oleg pretended to be thoughtful, paused and came to the realization of his plan. ‘He tried to enslave me and caused me terrible pain. Now let him experience both pain and slavery for himself. I shan’t kill him. He shall be
my
slave.’ At these sinister words, the son of the priest started. Oleg went on: ‘Maybe in the course of time I’ll let him be bought out, or I’ll sell him to some slave dealer.’

Ataletta looked at Oleg’s cruel smile, at Albert, pale with horror, and almost in full accordance with Oleg’s plan suggested: ‘You said we could have come to an amicable deal with you. I would like to hire you. And I’d also like to buy Albert’s freedom. Slavery is forbidden in our kingdom anyway, and it wouldn’t be worth taking him.’

Oleg looked at her with new eyes. The girl was showing certain practical and business skills, quite unexpected in a princess, as she had so quickly come to the crux of what Oleg had hinted at about buying Albert free. But as for working for Ataletta… Oleg weighed up the pros and cons again and decided it was worth a go. It was far easier to get along in a strange world if you had protection at your back in the form of an important individual highly interested in your success, for instance a blonde princess. And anyway, from a human point of view, Oleg simply didn’t want such a pretty girl to be killed. In short, he decided to integrate her alterations into his plan. A career as an assassin, albeit a very highly qualified one, was not really up his street.

‘Well, that’s an interesting proposal. I may even agree to work for you. What can you offer me?’

‘You agree to kill Kreghist?’ There was note of joyous excitement in Ataletta’s voice.

‘No. I’m not a contract killer. But for a good compensation package, I’m willing to work as your bodyguard. As far as I understand it, you want to save your own life not take that of your uncle’s?’

The girl made a sad little grimace.

‘A demon-bodyguard? Kreghist will set all his bravest knights on you. You won’t have time to sleep, let alone guard me.’

Oleg smirked: ‘But what if I’m not a demon? What if I’m a human with special powers?’ And so saying Oleg took on his human form.

The princess gave a start and stared at him in astonishment, while Albert suddenly breathed much more calmly and put his hand on his neck, from which the snake had disappeared.

Finding nothing but a thin hair there, he gave a sigh of relief and was about to rip it off. Oleg gave a warning cough: ‘I wouldn’t advise you to touch it. It can bite. The fact that I’ve changed my appearance doesn’t mean you are free.’ The son of the High Priest hung his head again.

‘How do you do that?’ There was open amazement in the girl’s voice. ‘Not even the mightiest demons can change their appearance so totally. And it’s not an illusion, otherwise my amulets would give a sign.’

Somewhat taken aback at the princess’s knowledge in the field of practical demonology, Oleg told her the story he’d prepared earlier: ‘I’m of mixed blood. I repeat my question: what can you offer me in exchange for my services as a bodyguard, and for that young, obedient slave full of strength and energy?’ Oleg was openly poking fun at Albert, paying him back for the pain and horror he had felt inside the invocation circle.

The princess listened and sighed sadly: ‘I’m not rich. The treasury is in my uncle’s hands. Since my father fell ill he’s practically been running the kingdom. Of my very few valuables, only my jewellery is left. All I can offer is my soul. It’s said that many demons hunt them. Or you can wait until I get my throne back my. Then you’ll become the richest and most important Duke in the land.’

The girl looked at Oleg anxiously, awaiting his reply. He thought for a while, weighed up all the pros and cons, and then made his decision: ‘I’m not looking for souls…’ He was interrupted by Ataletta’s relieved sigh, waited, and went on: ‘I’d prefer something more material. But as for your dukedom, what use is it to me? I suggest a rather different method of payment. You humans like to enslave demons and make them do your bidding. But we’ll do things the other way round. I’ll offer you my protection and help in saving your life, in return for fulfilling one of my wishes.

‘Which one?’ The girl’s thin voice rang with hope and trepidation.

‘I haven’t decided yet. Don’t worry, I told you I don’t need your soul.’

The princess thought for a moment, then answered uncertainly: ‘I agree, if by fulfilling your wish I don’t have to go against noble honour or the country’s interests.’

Oleg wanted to joke that she wouldn’t need to go against “noble” honour, only “maiden”, but glancing at the frowning little face, he kept quiet. Who knows, she might take it seriously. And then what if she agreed? Oleg wasn’t interested in underage girls. He gave a curt nod instead.

‘It’s a deal. From now on you are under my protection. But I haven’t yet received the slavery ransom, so
he’ll
remain my property. And where are we, by the way?’

‘This is one of the palace cellars. It used to be Valdes’s spell room. He’s the former royal magician.’

‘Fine. Then let’s go. First of all, I need to get clothes for your world,’ Oleg gave a meaningful glance at his jeans and leather jacket. ‘Then you can introduce me to whoever you need to as your new bodyguard.’ But then another idea came to Oleg. He touched the guitar hanging on his back. ‘No, it’s probably better if I call myself a minstrel. A bodyguard’s too noticeable, especially a new one. No-one will suspect anything from a minstrel.’

Ataletta was amazed: ‘You mean you can play and sing?’

‘I can do more than just play and sing. I reckon I’m not the worst minstrel around here. Certainly not the worst,’ Oleg repeated, remembering his performance for Heliona.

‘But how will you protect me? As a minstrel you’ll be called to various homes, including ones where I’m not allowed. We’ll be in different places.’

‘It’s all quite simple. I won’t be just a minstrel; I’ll be a minstrel in love, a minstrel who’s fallen in love with you! I reckon falling in love with a doomed princess is quite fitting for a troubadour. No-one will suspect a thing.’

At this, Ataletta nodded in agreement. A strange expression froze on her face – the idea of becoming the heroine of a romantic tale about a minstrel madly in love with her was at once both to her liking but also a cause for some sort of regret, for instance, that it would all only be make believe.

After only a few seconds she tore herself from her fantasies and continued dealing with a more painful problem. That problem was in the shape of Albert who stood quietly by the door, from time to time throwing Ataletta glances full of pleas for help. Albert clearly didn’t want to be the slave of an evil demon, even one that could pretend to be human. It was very logical, really. Catching yet another plea-laden glance, Ataletta turned to Oleg, who was already turning towards the door: ‘Wait...’

‘What is it?’ Oleg was fed up with these underground discussions. He was impatient to see the new world with his own eyes, to breathe the fresh breeze, to warm himself under the rays of a new sun, and to get out of this devilish little room with its threefold pentagram and other magical items.

Not yet acquainted with the tones of Oleg’s intonation and the emotions they conveyed, Ataletta said: ‘It’s unlikely that a wandering minstrel would have his own slave. All the more so here in Fenrian where slavery is forbidden by law. And it’s even more unlikely that the slave would be the well-known son of the High Priest.’

Oleg nodded irritatedly. ‘Reasonable. Seems I’ll just have to kill him after all.’ He transformed his hand to a demon’s paw and slowly reached for Albert’s throat.

The princess’s cry rang out: ‘No, please don’t kill him!’

Oleg shrugged his shoulders.

‘But what can I do with him? It seems I can’t keep him as a slave. But just up and let him go? With neither punishment nor even a
ransom
?’ He particularly stressed the last word. ‘I’m not so kind-hearted.’

Albert saw the life-saving possibility at once.

‘What ransom do you want? My father will pay any sum!’