The Wizard Killer - Season One: A Post-Apocalyptic Fantasy Serial

The Wizard Killer - Season One: A Post-Apocalyptic Fantasy Serial by Adam Dreece Page B

Book: The Wizard Killer - Season One: A Post-Apocalyptic Fantasy Serial by Adam Dreece Read Free Book Online
Authors: Adam Dreece
Tags: adventure, Fantasy, serial, post-apocalpytic
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hands up. “Randmon, you around? You should have told me I was being an idiot.” I glance up at her, surprised she’s not telling me to shut up.
    The barn doors are thrown open, drawing my attention but not hers. A thunder of footsteps flood in as the leecher walks in, leaning on a long staff, a stream of oners behind her walking in pairs. Each of them is perfectly synchronized to her steps, until she stops a few feet in front of me. The barn falls silent, at first, then the rumble from the distant storm fills the room.
    “I thought I killed you,” I say to the leecher. I put my hands down and tilt my head down too, but I keep my gaze up. Given that leechers are usually poor, desperate people, I’m hoping my posture will feed her need to feel powerful.  
    She’s dressed in a long black dress, wrapped in an old, knitted shawl that’s fraying. Her darker side looks less withered than last time, and there’s no sign of any wounds from my pistol. Maybe I shot her where she’s covered? Her face looks almost pained with concentration, a look echoed by the oners, except for the woman oner who’s been keeping me company.
    The leecher smiles at the levi-car and then turns her attention to me. “While you wounded me, you killed one of them. Close though. Now it’s time for me to return the favor.” Her speech is distracted, similar to the woman oner. I glance at the others, no one’s moving a muscle. I can’t imagine how much mana it’s taking for her to control them all.
    “You can’t kill me, not yet. You need me to drive. Where you’re going, you need to be able to outrun that fire storm.” I put my hands up, again keeping my head bowed.
    She sighs and thinks.
    I figure back at the bar when I met her, everyone there was probably a oner, maybe special ones like the woman. But the leecher wasn’t concentrating like this then… maybe something’s changed or maybe she can’t afford to exert full control the whole time. Peeking at the woman oner, I wonder if she’d managed to say anything to me that didn’t come from the leecher. No way to know.
    “I have to thank you. If you hadn’t wounded me, I’d never have thought of keeping you alive and feeding off you. I would have ended you then, like I did the carnu. That was a feast on power like I’ve never had before. But sadly, unlike you weslek, I can’t keep the mana I don’t use quickly. It fades so fast. I sipped the mana from you as I got better, but you kept getting weaker. That was, until my oners told me of the mana pond. Imagine how delighted I was to learn that you could be rejuvenated without having to be conscious. All it cost me was some mana to keep you asleep while they coated you in mud, then they’d clean you up, and I’d get back ten times the mana in return. I hope you didn’t mind the shave, but it was disgusting. It was a fun few months. A shame my spies spotted the—”
    “Months?” I run my hand through my muddy hair. “No way.” It makes sense though. I knew the wheat wasn’t that tall before. I’m not even sure it was planted yet.
    She laughs. “What, did you believe this One?” she says pointing at the woman. “She’s a good liar, the best of the group. She’s also the most stubborn of the all my oners. There’s even part of the original person there, deep underneath the blessing. But despite her best, there’s no fighting the blessing and me.”
    A shadow falls over the barn and I see panic flash on the face of the leecher. “Time to drive.”
    “I’m not moving until you tell me what the yig’s going on.”
    The leecher glares at me, but she knows I’m holding at least one decent card in our game.
    “That’s not a fiery storm, that’s the floating city of Ashleek. The storm is ripping up every ounce of mana and life force it can find. The city’s set on a column of raging flame to charge itself.”
    “What are you talking about?”
    She laughs at me. “How do you think the wasteland was made? The rim

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