The Wizard Killer - Season One: A Post-Apocalyptic Fantasy Serial by Adam Dreece Read Free Book Online

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