What Once Was One (Book 2) Read Online Free PDF

shock shuddered through me. The White Mountain had transformed.
    The slopes that were once smothered in cold, winter weather all year long were now splattered with spots of brown and white, as if a giant artist had dripped drops of paint on a canvas. As Cynder made a sweeping turn to land outside the cavern entrance, I saw a huge wall of snow break loose from an upper shelf, tumbling down the mountainside and crushing everything beneath it. The White Mountain was returning to its natural state, though it would take some time before there were enough trees and plants to support animal life. It had been centuries since the landscape was filled with warmth instead of winter.
    Cynder twisted and swooped towards the entrance of the cave near the top. He settled on the ledge and lowered himself so we could all get off.
    Demay walked to the edge of the ledge and peered up at the mountain. “What happened?”
    “With Stradus’s death,” I said, “the magic’s gone.” I had known that would happen, but I hadn’t really thought about what it would mean.
    “Be on guard, little ones,” Cynder said, gazing into the darkness of the caves. “While I am here to protect you, I no longer know what’s inside.”
    Jastillian drew his axe and Behast his sword. Prastian and Demay readied arrows in their bows. I summoned mana, letting it hover near the surface of my body, where I could unleash it.
    “I shall go first,” Cynder said. “But once we reach the end of the outer caverns, you’re on your own.” Cynder was too big to fit into the interior rooms that had housed me and Stradus. “Hellsfire, make yourself useful.”
    I crept to the entrance of the cave. The wind howled inside and played havoc with my imagination. The black swallowed the incoming daylight. Without the torches that Stradus had magically kept burning, the only light came from this one giant opening. The White Mountain consisted of an extensive network of caves. Stradus never knew who built it, but he said he had encountered dangerous creatures when he first arrived.
    I conjured my inner fire mana and spoke an incantation in the ancient language of Caleea. “God of fire and god of air, please kindle the torches inside of here.” Little streams of fire flowed out of my hands. They danced along the sides of the walls, skittering around until they lighted every hanging torch in the cavern.
    The darkness lifted from the caves. No monsters awaited us, but Demay and Prastian had their bows high and raised, aiming into the tunnels. Their ears twitched, searching for any unnatural sound. After a few tense moments, the pair lowered their bows and we ventured in.
    As we marched inside, the hairs on my arms stood up. Stradus wouldn’t be greeting me at the end of the trek with a warm smile on his face and a hot pot of tea. He was here, with me, his remains in the bag on my shoulder. Even though I had no idea what awaited me, I needed to go inside. Stradus must be laid to rest, and we needed to make the binding potion for Premier. My master had died to protect the world from Premier, and I had to finish his work.
    I peeked up at Cynder, wondering if similar thoughts were going through his head. None of the others could ever understand. To them, the White Mountain was just a cold and desolate place. There were times when I had trouble reading Cynder’s reptilian face. This was one of them. He left me and continued to lead the way.
    Part of me wished that Cynder had waited at the entrance. His loud footsteps reverberated throughout the cavern. While these sections of the caves were big enough to hold Cynder, he couldn’t fly. If there was something in here, it would now know we were here. A wisp of smoke leaked from Cynder’s nostrils. I might have been a fire wizard, but Cynder also knew how to create his own fire and could use it with deadly accuracy.
    We split up into groups and searched the side tunnels. Behast was with me. His ears moved at every sound, mainly the