The Wizard Killer - Season One: A Post-Apocalyptic Fantasy Serial (6 page)

I hurry to her side, coming up from behind so as to avoid the carn taking a swipe at me. Climbing up, I point my pistol at the scarred carn. It’s flame flares for a second. “I love you too, sunshine,” I say with a grim smile.

There’s something at the back of my mind, a voice and words. I give the woman a glance, and it’s like I’m hearing her mutterings but it’s in the voice of a demonic child. I almost slip off as I recoil, something in my deep memory making me momentarily afraid.
 

A red haze appears, surrounding the levi-car. I stare in surprise at the woman. Her eyes are glowing, and I swear I can feel the rush of mana flowing from the air, through her and then doing her bidding. I’m certain she’s been part of a Wizard’s inner circle. The heart shaped face, the sharp features, it’s not from any realm or domain I can recall but her skill and confidence speaks volumes.

I turn my attention back to the carnu who have their clawed hands outstretched, testing the edge of the barrier. They’re spreading out, talking to each other.
 

“Do you have a plan?” I ask her.

“Not really. You?”

I stare at her, stunned. “You can understand me?”

episode twelve

“How the yig can you understand me?” I repeat. It doesn’t make any sense, why is she doing this now? Wait… I glance at the protective shield she’s got up and the amount of concentration on her face, maybe she’s not responsible for understanding me now. Why’s this happening now? I run my hand through my sweaty hair and then shake my head. Who the yig cares, there’s carnu.

Glancing back into the levi-car, I see the blond woman’s stirring. I offer her a hand and help her climb out. I notice three scars on her face that are very distinctive. They remind me of ones that some types of severe criminals get, but I don’t remember anything else.

“Can you wield magic like her?” I ask, pointing at her friend. I’m pretty sure I know the answer.

She stares at me confused. “Pan ji?”

“Wait. Can you understand me?”

She squints and rolls a hand at me. Maybe that means so-so.

I point at the other passenger. “What about the guy?”
 

Her face goes tight and steely. “Not making go.”

Twisting my head to the side, I swear I understood some of that. “He’s not going to make it? Is that what you meant?”

She nods.

“Great, we had too many anyway. No point in winning the easy way,” I mutter. I catch a glimpse of Randmon on my shoulder, his little mouse face has a peculiar look that gets my attention. “Are you doing this language stuff?” He stares at me like an idiot. Right, a mouse is a mouse is a mouse. I turn back to the blonde as she fishes about in the levi, likely for some weapons. “Hey! What’s her name?” I glance over at the acolyte, and she’s dropping beads of sweat the size of marbles. We don’t have a lot of time.

“Ania.” She taps on her chest, “Dila.”

“You’re Dila, she’s Ania, got it. I’m…” Yig, my brain just skids to a stop again, “I’m going to come up with a plan.” I rub my forehead trying to think of what our options are. “Oh yig, no…” That freaking nausea’s starting again. “Dila, magic’s going to fail again.”

“What?” she asks, preparing a crossbow.

I wave at the sky. “Magic, all magic, it’s going to stop working in a minute,” I say, trying to fend off outright panic.
 

Dila stares at me like I just said something crazy, because in her reality, I did. Who the yig can feel magic coming and going, it must sound like I can feel clouds moving in a foreign country. I bet they didn’t know why their levi-car crashed into the tree.

Ania groans in pain, her footing slipping on the top of the levi for a second. The two carnu are pushing on her protective shield from opposite sides. Freaking smart fire-heads.

Concern flashes on Dila’s face, “She no do—”

“Not doing well? Yeah, I can tell.” With stupidly hopeful eyes, I look at Dila and ask, “Can you help her?”

She looks at our protector and shakes her head, “No.” She puts the crossbow down, likely waiting for the shield to drop. I shake my head, realizing that if it were me, I would have shot and probably killed one of us by accident. They’ve clearly worked together before.

Dila pulls open her shirt, showing an under-layer of leather armor festooned with throwing knives. She’s also got them along discreet slots on her thighs and upper arms. Yig, I had no idea.

Looking down at my pistol, I laugh. If Dila thinks that a crossbow and knives are going to have a chance against the carnu, she’s way out of her league. So that leaves me with two options: try to take down the carnu, or try to get out of here faster than them. Given how Ania’s at least an acolyte, that makes the second option almost as bad as the first.

Ania’s groans of pain are becoming growls. It’s only a matter of time before she’s outright screaming and then she’ll drop. The nausea in my stomach is building, but I’ve got no feeling of pressure to feed the pistol.
 

I find myself staring at the one tree that’s inside the shield for some reason. Glancing about, I note how it’s more of a strange oval now. As Ania screams, I watch as the tree withers right before my eyes. Startled, I step back and bang into Dila. “Transforming life force into mana… Did she just do that?” I grab Dila by the shoulders and point at Ania. “Did she just kill that tree?”

“Eat for mana,” replies Dila.

Right, some people
can
do that. Wizards, acolytes and… gah, I had it. Huh. Staring at the withered tree, I think of the landscape. It looks really similar. Blue veins start to pop out on Ania’s red face.

I close my eyes and concentrate on my heart and core. Come on, where’s that raging beast that ran out my arm and pistol when I needed it? My eyes dart about desperately, I’m like a burning man looking for a barrel of water. I don’t have much time until Ania goes down.

A whiff of an idea hits me, and my body reacts before I know what’s going on. I watch myself drop my pistol and short sword, and shove Dila aside. As I haul the unconscious guy half out of the levi-car, she starts getting back up, fury in her eyes. I rip his shirt and put a hand square on his bare chest, while my other hand grabs my pistol. She’s starting to scream at me.

Ania notices what I’m doing but can’t react without dropping the protective shield. Dila’s reaching for a knife on her thigh, screaming at me. Closing my eyes, I feel my nausea peak and… and then something else.

episode thirteen

“AHH!!!!” I scream as the wounded man’s essence burns up into my arm and then into my chest. It’s like inhaling a hurricane, it’s beyond agony. My jaw’s clenched so tightly I expect my teeth to shatter any minute. Memories start hitting me so hard I’m on the verge of passing out. I have no idea if they’re mine or his. Wrapping my arms around myself, tremors start, giving way to full convulsions. The one thought screaming through my head, over the deafening sound of the inner hurricane, is to hang on. Was that what the Old Man used to say?

Dila’s face is red with rage. Her knife narrowly misses me as I flail about. She dives for my short sword, yelling “FARKES WESLEK!” In a single heartbeat, she rolls up to me and is poised to drive the sword through my throat. In a flash, she drops to the ground, a huge hole through her middle, my pistol streaming blue smoke. The convulsions are done.

Ania screams, her eyes wild with fury. The shield vanishes and she turns, glaring at me, both hands outstretched. Nothing happens. “Sorry lady, magic’s not here right now. You’ve got to have your own mana, and you’re all out.”

I point my pistol at the scarred carn, shifting my gaze back and forth between them and Ania. The scarred carn says something to the other, motioning at the dead blond. To my surprise, they start backing up and then take off. Whatever the reason, I’m sure I haven’t seen the last of them.

I’m feeling woozy, like a leaky bucket. Maybe I can’t keep that much mana… or maybe… I don’t know… doesn’t really matter right now. If I’m not careful, I’m sure Ania’s going to take the opportunity to leave a flaming blue hole right through me. Trying to stand, I stumble, grabbing the side of the levi-car, but keeping my pistol arm up and pointed at Ania the whole time. She’s pacing about trying to assess the situation, her eyes going back and forth between me and her dead friends and the carnu retreating into the distance.

Looking back at the guy I drained, I lose it, throwing up. He’s ghastly thin, with empty black eye sockets, and dark, matte skin that looks like burnt paper. His facial expression is something that will haunt me for days, if not weeks, I’m sure.

 
“Hey,” I say to Ania as she sits down on the road, shaking her head. She doesn’t look furious anymore, but there’s no sign of sorrow or loss either. Maybe they hadn’t worked together that long, or maybe they weren’t friends. “I didn’t mean to kill her. She came at me, and I didn’t have a choice. The shield was going down in a minute, and… I didn’t even know I could do that.”
 

Licking my lips, I wait. The hurricane in my chest was halved by the shot and has been dropping, but I’m sure I’ve still got enough left in the tank for a good shot or two, perhaps more.

She gives me a blank look and shrugs, tapping her ear.

Furrowing my brow, I lower my pistol, doing a quick scan in case the carnu had doubled-back through the forest. All is quiet. I take a deep breath.

“Weslek…” I say, trying to make sense of the word. It feels like I’ve almost got it.

“Jargee Ma-na, weslek?” asks Ania, standing up and coming over. Her hands are palm up. I reaffirm my grip on the pistol as she approaches. The glint of the sun off my short sword tells me it’s not far away.

She points at my free arm and motions like she wants to touch it. I do a gut check. As far as I know, magic’s not working, but as far as I know, she could burn me alive with a touch. I can’t feel Randmon on my shoulders, so I decide to roll the dice and see what happens. I give her a nod.

Immediately, she slaps her hands on my arm, her eyes narrow. A memory snaps into place, and I shove her backwards. I point my pistol at her head. “Jargee Ma-na… yeah, I still have mana. That’s Banarese. Yig, you were going to try and leech that right out of me? Your dying friend surrendered it to me, no way I’m giving you anything. What type of acolyte are you, anyway?”

Raising her hands slowly, a guilty smile crosses her face. “I had to try. I’d never attempted it before,” she says, her accent noticeable this time. “So, what now?”

I stare at the ground and take a deep breath. A sense of relaxed calm is setting in. “I need to get to Banareal,” I tell her, giving her a sideways look. I’m not sure what the place is, but it popped into my head when she touched me, along with the translation. I figure it’s as good of a place as any.

“The floating city? Interesting. Why would you go there?”

Frowning, I ask, “Hey, how come you can understand me now, but not earlier? Is it Randmon? Where
is
that mouse?”

“Is that him?” she asks pointing behind me.

I spin around searching for that yigging mouse, and then I feel it. My back erupts in pain as flames shoot all around me. I’d missed the cue, magic’s back and I turned my back like an idiot.
 

Landing on all fours, hanging on to consciousness by my fingernails, I scramble over for my short sword. After swiping the etched markings, I spin around ready with my pistol. She’s levitating with a green sphere around her. She waves, and with a boom and rush of wind, she blurs away.

I eye the forest and the road in front and behind me. Tapping my short sword against my head, I notice it’s glowing blue and I feel empty inside. Huh, I wonder if it healed me and took my mana to recharge itself.

I walk over to Dila’s corpse and crouch down. She looks almost normal, except for the huge, burned hole right through her. I glance over at Mister Withered, unable to look at him for more than a second. There’s something disturbingly familiar about the withered one, like I’ve seen hundreds before.

Staring at Dila, another translation wiggles loose from my memory. “Farkes weslek, eh?” I say, with a biting smile. “Well, if I hadn’t been a
traitorous mana battery
, then I wouldn’t know what you’d said, and we’d
all
be dead.” I check her things, but everything’s melted. Even the rings on her fingers are ruined.