Wizard Unleashed

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Wizard Unleashed Page 13

by Jamie McFarlane


  "Mind telling me how you broke out of jail?" I asked, catching up with her. We'd spotted a dilapidated house on the side of the hill about a mile up and were headed toward it instinctively.

  "How do you know about that?"

  "The Key would have helped you get out, but you didn't have it then because the cops surely would have taken it," I said, ignoring her question. "And even if you could escape, why? You weren't picked up for anything serious. Then, you mysteriously disappear right before your lawyer shows up? A lawyer, might I add, who is way out of your league. None of this adds up."

  "For someone who knows everything, you sure have a lot of questions," she said brusquely.

  "Look, I get not trusting anyone, but we need to work together if we’re going to get out of here.” I paused. “I think you were the one who took the Key from Rosen the night he was murdered."

  "And now you're calling me a murderer? You don't know shit."

  "My friend was in that house and they're holding him on murder charges."

  "What is he?" she asked, stopping suddenly.

  "Joe? Why?"

  "Only two people have ever seen me when I've been hidden. Your friend, Joe, and you," she said.

  "Joe didn't see you," I said. "He smelled you."

  "You say the most romantic things," she said dryly. "What's your excuse? Did you smell me while you were standing over Thanda's dead body? Do I really smell that bad?"

  "I tracked your aura with my wizard's sight," I said. I'd gone back and forth on what to call my planar view and found that it was most easily understood if I attributed it to being a wizard. "And you haven't answered any of my questions."

  "Seems like you have all the answers," she replied.

  A shadow fell across our path and I turned, startled. I felt immediate relief as I recognized that it was simply the sun falling behind the mountains and casting a long shadow. We were still half a mile from what I believed was an abandoned stone house. I found it a little surprising that its stacked stone and mortar construction was something you might find back home.

  "Aren't you even a little curious as to why I happened to be in the warehouse?"

  "No. That's easy. You were there, just like Fagin was, so you could take the Key. Joke's on you. I bet you wish you'd stayed home, now don't you? No, you're no mystery. Men only ever want two things: sex and power." I could see the resolve in her face as she turned and started along the path.

  I didn't believe anything I had to say would convince her of my good intentions. "At least tell me why you escaped county when you had a lawyer coming."

  "The lawyer wasn't there to help me," she said. "She was there to take me out."

  "You're saying she was from a rival gang? That doesn't make sense," I said. "The lawyer is a partner of a respected Chicago law-firm. She wasn't there to take you out."

  "How dumb can you be?" she spat. "That lawyer was part of Adajania's sect. She was there to take me out so I wouldn't steal the Key."

  "Who told you that? Fagin?"

  "Things weren't always bad between us. He can be nice when he wants to be, especially when he wants something. When he gets mad though, he likes to hurt girls."

  I heard the betrayal in her voice as she spoke and my stomach rolled over at her inadvertent confession. She couldn't even be eighteen years old yet. “What were you doing in Rosen’s house then?” I needed to change the conversation. The idea that Fagin had used Missy was clouding my ability to think straight.

  “I followed Fagin. I thought he was trying to cut me out of a deal, so I broke in and found Rosen packing up that artifact. I didn't know it was important until I picked it up. I was trying to get out of there when I accidentally activated it and ended up here – in Kaelstan,” she said.

  "What is Fagin?" I asked.

  "He says he’s a wizard," she said. "But mostly, I think he's just good at stealing things and using artifacts."

  "That bolt he hit my shield with was something," I said.

  "Comes from his glove. We stole that last year from a collector in Kansas City."

  "Why is Adajania looking for you?"

  "Fagin never told me. Just that I shouldn’t ever let her find me. According to Fagin, Adajania has been looking for me since I was a kid,” she said. Her eyes grew wide as she looked past me. “Oh, crap."

  "What?" I asked, turning.

  She pointed into the air. "They found us."

  A green-skinned dragon with shimmering golden scales and a head the size of a pickup truck was flying toward us. A steady plume of smoke billowed from each wide nostril as it rhythmically beat its leathery wings.

  "We need to get out of here." I turned back to where Missy had been standing only to find she had disappeared. "Ah, shit," I said and sprinted for the abandoned stone house, still three hundred yards away. I wasn't overly positive about what the old structure would add in defense against the massive beast, but being stuck in the open didn't seem like a particularly good idea either.

  The sound of heavy wings whooshed against the arid evening air and I glanced over my shoulder. The dragon had reared back, pushing its monstrous rear claws forward like an eagle about to snatch a trout from a mountain lake. I dove to the ground, brought up my shield and pulled my knees to my chest. I watched in horror as the beast’s heavy breast sailed over the top of me and it dropped a single trailing claw low. It was plowing a furrow in the rocky soil, perfectly in line with where I'd fallen. The soil beneath me lifted and I was carried along as if riding a wave. The dragon closed its claws around me, shield and all.

  "Lapide Pugno!" I swung my stone fist sideways into the dragon's powerful hallux. With the sound of cracking tendons and a horrifying screech, I was unceremoniously dropped. In the short time I'd been in the dragon’s grip, he’d lifted me ten feet in the air and forward sixty yards. I rolled along the rocky slope of a small hillock, closer now to the shelter I’d been running to.

  I pushed up from the ground and stumbled forward. I'd been momentarily stunned by the fall, but didn't think anything was broken.

  If there was one advantage to being attacked by a dragon, it was the fact that they weren’t particularly agile. The dragon slowly turned, lumbering to gain altitude and replace the speed it lost during its failed attack. It twisted its neck as it came around, looking at me through intelligent, golden eyes. The dragon’s lips - if you could call them that - stretched back, revealing a long, toothy jaw. I could swear it was grinning.

  I've always had a few questions in the back of my mind relating to dragons. First, are they real? Yes. I can now say certainty that this is the case. Second, are dragons fire-breathing? At this point, my internal dialogue was cut short as I recognized a back flow on the plumes of smoke. Instead of billowing out from the great, round nostrils, smoke was being sucked back in and a bright orange glow formed at the back of the beast’s long blackened tongue.

  "Scutum!" I yelled, sliding behind the largest rock I could find. Jutting out along the downhill slope, the rock was the size of a couch and a small indention allowed me to wedge myself between it and the hillside with my shield held to the side. My choice of position wasn't bad, considering I was fighting a dragon the size of a regional jet on the side of a mostly flat, barren hill in hell (yes, I know it’s not technically hell, but it sounds more dramatic).

  A wet splashing sound preceded the most intense heat I'd ever felt. Peripherally, I'd caught the sight of a jellied liquid coursing down the hill and around the left side of my rock. The strong smell of petroleum hit my nose just as the material lit. Fire. Check. Which brought up the third question I had about dragons. What was the nature of their fire? Chemical or magical? Yesterday, I would have put money on the latter. If we're going to have dragons, I reasoned, it’s not much of a stretch that they have magical fire. This dragon, however, had basically just hit me with napalm. Chemical. Definitely chemical.

  I had a short time to react when the dragon's bulk passed over the top and sailed down the hill. I couldn’t
stay where I was as the heat and flames were unbearable and the oxygen had been sucked from the air. As an earth wizard, I wasn’t particularly flammable, but I did require air. The beast worked to regain altitude and turn; its slow, lumbering flight giving me a chance to move.

  Leaping from cover, I raced to the side, away from the giant crater of flame where most of the liquid had landed. Streaks and splashes of flame flowed down the slope and I dodged as many spots as possible. My shield had held up well against the napalm, but the jellied liquid got everywhere and even worse, stuck to everything, igniting it instantly. No sooner had I escaped the puddle of death than I realized my pants and coat sleeves were both on fire. I tore off my jacket and slipped out of my pants. My left arm was singed as were my legs, but I didn't see any permanent damage. One look at the dragon told me he was headed back. Trying to salvage my clothes would be a waste of time. I scrabbled up the hill toward the cover of the stone house.

  A terrifying roar spurred me forward and I risked another glance over my shoulder. The dragon was laboring up the hill in my direction, but I would make the building before it arrived. Perversely, it occurred to me how screwed I’d be if the dragon managed to successfully drop a hot load of napalm through the front door. Yeah, I could be in big trouble. Worse, I saw no other alternative.

  The building looked to have been abandoned for a considerable time. The front door was long gone and the glass on the only window was broken to the point of having only a few remaining shards. I skidded to a halt and turned to assess the dragon's approach. Goofy grin, reverse flow of nostril exhaust and orange glowy crap at the back of its throat were all I needed to recognize the incoming attack. I'd dropped my shield on my run up the hill and felt my energy waning, but I had no other ideas and even less time.

  "Scutum." I stuck my left arm just outside the door jamb and imagined the largest shield I could muster. One of the things I appreciate most about my magic was that it responded to my emotional state. If I wanted to cast magic to show off for my friends at a party, it would work, but it just wouldn't be that impressive. Add a pissed off fire-spewing dragon and watch how every dram of magical energy is pulled from my body in response.

  Simultaneous with the dragon's release, my shield brilliantly illuminated and extended around the door frame. The house shook at its foundation as the main stream of dragon's fire buffeted the rocky walls. Deflected fire coursed through the open window and splashed onto the opposite wall. I glanced upward, worried the fire would ruin the structure, but for the moment at least, it held. The biggest problem was the heat at the front of the house. It was growing to an unbearable level.

  I dropped the shield and realized I'd successfully trapped myself. The pool of fire outside was more than I could possibly dash through. I turned around and madly searched the inside, looking for anything that might help. The structure had been built into the side of a hill and except for the window and door, it easily withstood the dragon's onslaught. That said, I knew the dragon could easily rip the structure from the side of the hill with its powerful limbs.

  The ground shook and I ran back to the front of the building. The dragon had landed sideways on the hill about twenty yards from the front door. I was trapped. Fire blocked my escape, although I knew there was nowhere to go.

  "Die," the dragon intoned with an impossibly deep voice as it shifted its bulk uncomfortably and turned to face me. The single syllable took several seconds for the beast to complete, leading me to believe I shouldn’t plan on any meaningful conversations.

  I could assume the dragon was immune to fire, given its primary attack. I also thought it was a safe bet that the napalm spittle tank was empty, since the dragon was no longer giving me any of the three tells I'd previously picked up on. I glanced at my stone arm. In the space of the battle, the stone had crept to mid bicep. I had been wondering if the spell’s progression was related to its use and the recent change seemed to confirm that.

  "Not today, ugly,” I yelled back in frustration. Facing down dragons is the stuff of legends. If I was going to hurl insults, they really should rise to the level of the moment. Sadly, that's all I had.

  I closed my eyes and reached for that part of me that frightened me the most. It always seemed to come to this. I felt like I lost a little bit of who I wanted to be every time I relied on the darkness within. I also knew that if I didn't act, there wouldn't be anything left to lose.

  Just as I experienced when fighting Gester in the dungeon, I easily found the dark purple energy that stained my aura. The energy wasn't pooled like it had been under the dungeon, but rather sparked wildly beneath the hill. I proceeded cautiously. Previous experience told me that even small amounts were potent.

  I grabbed at a wild spike and bent it to my will. "Lapide Pugno!" Directing the energy through my stone arm, I punched at the approaching dragon. Before the blow even landed, the dragon reared back in surprise, spreading its wings instinctively. The punch impacted the dragon's breast, just beneath its long throat and it roared in pain as bones cracked. It shook its great head back and forth angrily, screaming in agony. A mini dust storm barreled toward me as the great beast flapped its wings and jumped with powerful hind legs. With a turn of its neck, the dragon lifted into the air and labored to gain elevation.

  I stumbled back, shielding my eyes from the flying sand. Involuntarily, I fell to my knees as my stomach decided whatever was left in it should be ejected. For the moment, all I could do was hold myself on all fours and stare at the ground. I'd channeled too much energy and it was tearing at my insides. As I sat back on my heels, a searing pain in my right shoulder brought tears to my eyes. With my left hand, I pulled back my shirt. The stone infection completely covered my arm and was working its way along my shoulder.

  A guttural scream rang through the valley below. I dropped my head and sighed. What now? I staggered to my feet just in time to see the dragon swoop low across the path I'd taken to get up the hill. Initially, I couldn't locate the source of the frantic cry. My heart sank as the dragon once again lifted from the ground and Missy suddenly appeared, dangling from one of the dragon's massive claws.

  Chapter 13

  Bump In The Night

  I sat back on the dusty floor, stunned. Somewhere along the way, in addition to losing Missy, I'd also lost my pants. I wasn't having the best day. Using the door frame for support, I stood, still unsteady from the overuse of power. The sooty smell of burning diesel filled my nose as I inspected the destruction outside. The fire was burning only in patches where the dragon’s spit had pooled. While all the yellow grass had burned away, the structure didn't seem to be any worse for wear, which was something I couldn't say about myself.

  I made my way to where I'd hastily rid myself of my pants. One leg was missing all the way up to the crotch, the other was holed in more places than I could count. The only thing that seemed to have been spared was the belt and zipper. Still, holey pants were better than no pants at all, so I pulled their tattered remains back on.

  "What are you?"

  I spun around, startled by the hoarse, childish voice.

  "Shit," I said and stepped back. I hadn't heard the approach of the being, who now stood in front of me.

  In the flickering light of dragon’s fire, I considered the small woman. She had black skin - and I don't mean what people usually refer to as dark skin. The color was black: the color of pitch, or tires, or licorice. She had no hair, but rather a few, well-spaced short horns that protruded half an inch from her scalp and ended in points. As the skin stretched over these bumps, the color turned from black to dark red. Above her brow, two curved horns protruded three inches, pointing forward and tapering to what I suspected was a sharpened end.

  Her face wasn't unpleasant, as it was well-proportioned and mirrored that of a human female, with the obvious exception of the pitch-colored, almost latex looking skin. Standing shy of five feet, she couldn't have weighed over eighty pounds. Her clothing consisted of a dark-blue, low cut leather vest,
tight shorts and moccasins.

  "Felix," I said.

  "You're a Felix?" Her light-green cat eyes tracked me as I moved. "You look human to me."

  "I am a human," I said. "My name is Felix."

  She raised an eyebrow that completely lacked hair. "If this is your real name, you should not share it so easily, Felix. You give away your power. You may call me Flick," A long black tail twitched behind her. The movement reminded me of a cat, although the hairless tail did not.

  "You have me at a disadvantage," I said. "I'm not from around here."

  "This much is obvious," she said. "No one would choose to fight with Smaragdinus. You are powerful to have survived your fight."

  "I need to know where Smaragdinus took my friend."

  "I know where your friend was taken," she offered.

  "Tell me, please."

  "Smaragdinus works for the powerful one who lives within the mountains."

  This conversation was going to take a very long time. "What is this being’s name?"

  "You have asked for two things," Flick said. "What will you pay for this information?"

  "I asked where my friend was taken."

  "And the name of the one who holds her. It is not wise to speak an ancient one's name, as it very well might appear to reclaim that knowledge," she said. "I will trade for knowledge of where your friend has been taken."

  "Trade what?"

  "You will take me back to your world," she said.

  I chuffed a pained laugh. "I'm afraid we have entirely too many demons in my part of the world just now."

  "I am demon-kind,” she corrected. “If you take me, I would enslave myself to you.”

  "What? I don't want a slave," I said.

  "I can be quite accommodating." Clasping her hands in front, she used her arms to press her breasts together. She wasn't altogether unattractive, but I wasn't about to start mixing it up with demons, well not again anyway.

 

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