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Gun Mage 3: Surviving a Post Apocalyptic Magic Earth

Page 26

by Logan Jacobs


  “What is that thing?” Sorcha asked in disbelief.

  “I have no idea,” I replied. “It sort of looks like a bison, but I’ve never seen one remotely that big.”

  “I thought bison were herbivores,” Sorcha noted.

  “Normal ones are,” I said. “Maybe this one is, too. But it could be territorial, which would explain why it was chasing those deer.”

  “Should we shoot it?” Freya asked as we watched the dog continue its assault.

  “Not with those handguns,” Darwin replied as he finally wrestled the Winchester from the pack and moved in front of us. “I doubt they’d do us much good.”

  The bison finally turned to face us again, and it bellowed when it saw we were still on the trail. The Winchester snapped in response, and for a moment, it looked like the bison would tumble to the ground. But it kept its feet and shook its head, then glared at us.

  “Shit, are you kidding me?” Darwin demanded. “That’s not possible.”

  “Apparently, it is,” I replied.

  “There’s no way that thing is natural,” Darwin declared. “Some damn mage must have made it.”

  “Well, right now I’m more concerned about the fact that it looks angry,” Sorcha replied.

  “And it may not eat meat, but it definitely looks like it would be willing to skewer meat,” Freya added. “Like us.”

  “We have to get around it,” I pointed out as the thing bellowed again, then lowered its horns for a charge.

  “Get up high!” Darwin urged as the thing started forward.

  Sorcha and I scrambled toward a tree while Freya hopped to the top of an outcrop, and Darwin followed the horses up a stony path toward the top of a hill. The only one still on the trail was Barnaby, who circled the bison relentlessly. Even when the bovine charged forward, the Weimaraner nipped at its heels, and even managed to draw blood with a couple of quick bites.

  The bison stopped and whirled around to attack the dog, though the beast’s size made it hard for it to swivel quickly. Barnaby managed to avoid the horns, though there were a few times when I was sure the silver dog was about to breathe his last. I heard the Winchester crack again, and a moment later, I spotted a trickle of blood near a shoulder, but the massive bovine remained unimpressed and unaffected by the guns.

  As I tried to scan for a route around the bison, Barnaby apparently landed a strong enough bite that the beast roared and stomped its foot. Barnaby darted around the bison again, then dodged into some nearby brush. Frustrated, the bison followed after the dog, its horns held low as it tried to impale the hound.

  The path was cleared, and the rest of the group quickly returned. I dropped to the ground and tried to search for the Weimaraner, but all I could hear was the occasional growl and the sound of the bison’s snorts.

  “Hex, come on,” Sorcha urged.

  “Barnaby!” I called out.

  “He knows what he’s doing,” Darwin declared as he grabbed my arm and started to pull me along the path. “Let him do what he was trained to do.”

  I saw that Freya and the horses had already sprinted ahead, and Sorcha wasn’t far behind. Darwin tugged on my sleeve again, and with a sigh of regret, I ran alongside him as we took off down the trail.

  “So what do you think?” I asked between breaths. “Could a mage make that?”

  “Maybe,” Darwin replied. “Which would mean there’s a mage nearby.”

  “That’s what I was thinking,” I huffed.

  We finally came to a halt near the edge of a ridge. The trail made a sharp turn away from the edge of the rocks at that point and started a downhill run that looked like it continued on for a long way. I’d hoped that we’d reached the overlook that Beth had mentioned, but there was no city to be seen from our perch, only more trees and snow-laden clouds.

  We all pulled out our canteens and gulped down water while we tried to catch our breaths. I scanned the road behind us, but there was still no sign of the silver dog. I watched for the Weimaraner as long as I could, but we were still a long hike away from Scranton, and my companions started to get anxious. I couldn’t believe I’d already lost the dog that had been entrusted to my care and wished that I had insisted that Beth keep him.

  Back on the trail, our group became silent and glum. Even the horses plodded along with their heads down, and I saw the two steeds check the trail behind us as well. Darwin still had the Winchester in his hands, and the rest of us kept our handguns nearby, but the only noises we heard were a few birds that called to each other in the cold and the squirrels that scrambled through the trees.

  The trail flattened out for a short stretch before starting another uphill climb, and we found a circle of rocks where we could sit and refuel before we took on the next part. I couldn’t say for sure which of the two women reacted first, but both Freya and Sorcha sat up straighter and studied the surrounding forest for several seconds.

  “Trouble?” I asked.

  “There’s a mage near here,” Sorcha confirmed.

  “Maybe someone followed us from Pastor,” I said with a frown.

  “Or maybe we found the owner of that buffalo from hell,” Darwin snorted as he scanned the surrounding area with the scope on the rifle.

  We didn’t have long to wait. There was a rustling just behind us, and then a boy of about fifteen burst onto the trail. He looked surprised to see us, but he wasn’t wearing a red robe and he didn’t run away or lob any fireballs, so for several moments, we all simply stared at each other.

  “Who are you?” Sorcha finally asked in a friendly voice. “We didn’t think anyone lived out here.”

  “Oh, uh, I’m Jonah,” the teenager replied.

  He had the same brown hair and blue eyes that so many of the Amish sported that it was easy to guess his hometown. But I didn’t remember seeing him at any point, and the pair of purple pants and a yellow shirt embroidered with pink flowers he wore were decidedly not Amish.

  “Are you from Pastor?” I asked in surprise.

  Jonah opened and closed his mouth a few times, then finally shrugged.

  “I was,” he said.

  “Oh,” Sorcha murmured. “I know who you are. You’re one of the mages that Michael sent on a quest.”

  The boy’s face hardened, and he started to back away.

  “Wait!” Freya called out. “Is she right? Please, we have news about Pastor that you might want to hear.”

  Jonah looked considerably less friendly at that moment, and I saw his gaze fall to the Winchester that Darwin carried. Darwin carefully lowered the weapon and pointed it toward the woods.

  “Michael is dead,” Sorcha announced.

  Jonah jumped in shock and stared at the Irishwoman in disbelief.

  “That’s not possible,” the boy replied.

  “He was shot with a gun,” I explained. “He was a mage, like you, not an angel.”

  “Is he really dead?” the boy asked.

  “He is,” I assured him.

  The boy risked a glance toward Pastor, then shook his head slowly and turned toward us again.

  “It’s not my home anymore,” Jonah sighed.

  “Are there others out here as well?” Freya asked. “Other mages that Michael sent on quests?”

  Jonah studied us again but refused to answer the rabbit woman.

  “Well, we’re happy to learn that at least one of you survived,” Darwin finally said. “We thought Michael had killed you all off when you weren’t useful to him anymore.”

  “How did you get to Pastor?” Jonah demanded. “And why were you there?”

  “We stopped at a town called Tucker,” I replied. “After we helped them, they suggested that there was a faster way to Scranton-Barre through Pastor. Beth showed us to the trail this morning.”

  “I thought I sensed one of the dogs,” the boy declared as he looked around.

  “Barnaby,” I said sadly. “He chased off a bison type thing, and he hasn’t been back.”

  “Oh, that’s Big Georg
e,” Jonah noted. “He’s a rescue.”

  “He’s a rescue?” Darwin snorted.

  “A mage created him,” Jonah explained. “He used to be an ordinary bison, but the mage wanted something he could scare people with. Artemis rescued him and brought him here. She rescued most of us and brought us here.”

  “And who is Artemis?” Freya asked.

  “She’s our protector,” the boy replied.

  “She’s the one who keeps the mutants away from this part of the forest,” Sorcha suggested. “Not Michael.”

  “She lets some of the mutants stay,” Jonah said with a nod. “As long as they follow her rules.”

  “Will she let us continue on our journey?” Darwin demanded. “We’re only passing through, and we were under the impression that the Amish do this frequently.”

  “As long as you follow the rules,” Jonah reiterated.

  “Which are?” I pressed.

  “You leave it as you found it,” Jonah replied. “And you cannot hunt anything that lives here.”

  “Umm,” I muttered as I glanced at my three companions.

  “Well, the thing looked unharmed,” Darwin said defensively.

  “But Barnaby was still chasing it,” Freya pointed out.

  “And this is the first time we’ve heard these rules,” I added.

  “Did you do something that violates the rules?” Jonah demanded.

  “Big George surprised us,” Sorcha explained. “We may have shot him with the gun, but it didn’t seem to harm him at all. In fact, he chased Barnaby into the woods.”

  Jonah seemed to consider this for several moments as he looked around the woods.

  “Then you should appeal to Artemis and ask for her forgiveness,” Jonah sighed. “If Big George is truly well, then she’ll probably let you continue.”

  “And if not?” I demanded.

  “She will punish you,” Jonah replied.

  “And what if we just kept going?” Freya asked.

  “She’ll still find you,” Jonah noted. “You can’t hide from her in the forest. It would be better to go to her and ask her forgiveness than to force her to find you.”

  “We need to reach Scranton-Barre as soon as possible,” Darwin explained. “We already lost too much time at Pastor.”

  “She can send you there in the blink of an eye,” Jonah declared. “But only if you go to her first.”

  “A portal mage?” I asked as I looked at Sorcha.

  “It would explain how Big George arrived here,” the Irishwoman noted.

  “Can you take us to Artemis?” I asked.

  Jonah nodded as Darwin spluttered. The ex-trooper glared at the rest of us and planted his feet firmly in the middle of the trail.

  “We should just keep moving,” Darwin insisted. “If this mage wants to complain about how we treated her pet, then she can come find us.”

  “But she can get us to Scranton-Barre much faster,” I pointed out. “And all we have to do is explain what happened. It won’t take us any time at all.”

  “Except we don’t know how close she is, and we don’t know that she’ll be all that forgiving,” Darwin pointed out.

  “What do you think?” I asked Jonah.

  “Her punishments are rarely more than banishing someone from her lands,” Jonah replied.

  “How come no one in Pastor mentioned this?” Freya asked.

  “Those who know about her think she’s a sorceress and avoid her at all costs,” Jonah sighed, “and the rest believe Michael is responsible for keeping the trail safe.”

  “Does anyone in Pastor know you’re out here?” Sorcha pressed.

  “I prefer to stay hidden,” Jonah said as he shook his head. “Artemis protects me now.”

  “I think we should meet her,” I insisted as I returned Darwin’s glare with one of my own.

  “I agree,” Sorcha asked. “It would save us time and energy.”

  “I’m curious myself,” Freya added.

  Darwin, outvoted and unhappy, merely turned his angry gaze on the surrounding trees.

  “Will you take us to Artemis?” I asked.

  Jonah considered us for a moment, then finally nodded.

  “If Beth entrusted you with Barnaby, then you must be good people,” he declared. “So yes, I will take you to see Artemis.”

  Jonah started to walk along the trail, and after a moment, we quickly gathered ourselves and followed after him. At first, it seemed that we would stay on the well-worn path that we had been following, but when we were about halfway up the next hillside, Jonah cocked his head to one side, then veered off into the trees and brush. The four of us looked at each other, not quite sure if we were ready to leave the trail in the middle of this dense forest.

  “You can leave a trail if it will make you feel safer,” Jonah called back.

  I pulled out my knife and started to carve small marks in the trunks as we moved deeper into the woods. Without the Amish trail to follow, I lost all sense of direction and as we moved up and down the hills of the forest, I couldn’t tell if Jonah was simply leading us in a circle or genuinely guiding us to a destination. I didn’t spot any of the trail marks I’d left, so I hoped that Jonah was really taking us to see the portal mage and not using some magic to hide the marks.

  Jonah brought our trip through the woods to an end at the edge of a pool fed by a waterfall. Despite the cold air and snow we’d just passed through, the area around the small glen remained pleasant and green grass grew along the edge of the water. Another teenager waded along the edge of the water with her eyes fastened on the rocks beneath her feet. A menagerie of strange animals wandered around the scene, as well as plenty of the local wildlife.

  As we were taking in the bizarre view, a portal opened on the other side of the pool and a tall woman in her thirties with a long nose and a dark braid coiled around her head stepped through. Her skin was deeply tanned from time spent in the sun, and she studied the scene around the pool with eyes that sparkled with purple light. Like Freya, she wore clothing designed to blend into the forest, but she wore so much gold in her hair and around her neck that it effectively canceled out her ability to blend in with her surroundings.

  “Jonah, my love, who are these strangers you have brought here?” the woman asked in a pleasant voice. “They do not look Amish, and yet you found them on the trail.”

  “I did,” Jonah agreed. “They have come to offer their apologies and to ask your permission to continue on their way.”

  The woman walked gracefully along the edge of the pond, and her gaze remained focused on the teenage girl rather than on us. The girl, for her part, never once glanced in our direction.

  When the mage was just a few feet away from us, she stopped and studied us as closely as we studied her. She wasn’t beautiful exactly, at least not in the classic sense, but there was something about the large eyes and the long face that held my attention.

  “So, you must be the ones who brought down Michael,” the woman chuckled.

  “How did--” I started to ask.

  “We see many things here,” the woman waved away my question. “Including the mages who appeared in the town not to arrest Michael but to find you and your friends. You must have done something terrible to draw so much attention.”

  Her gaze shifted toward the Winchester rifle that Darwin still clutched to his chest, but he only gave her a defiant stare in reply.

  “Tell me, what is it you need to apologize for?” she asked. “I hope you have not killed one of my rescues with that.”

  “Killed?” I hemmed. “No, not killed. Injured, maybe. We’re not sure.”

  “He came out of the woods and tried to run us through,” Freya added.

  “Big George,” Jonah explained when the mage raised an eyebrow.

  “Yes, I saw his injuries,” the mage declared. “They are minor, and he is otherwise unharmed. But you didn’t have just a gun. There were dog bites on George as well.”

  “The Amish entrusted us wi
th one of the Weimaraners,” I sighed. “He ran off after Big George. He gave us time to get away, but he didn’t return.”

  “You miss him, though you’ve only had him for a short time,” the mage noted.

  “I do,” I agreed. “Barnaby’s a great dog.”

  The mage, whom I assumed was Artemis, looked us over one more time, then stepped closer to the horses. She studied the animals thoroughly, even lifting their feet to check the hooves and opening their mouths to peer at the teeth. When that was done, she placed a hand on the head of one of the bays and spoke to it so softly that all I heard were a few whispery sounds. Both horses, however, had their ears pricked and leaned toward the woman as she spoke. When she was finished, both bays nickered, and she smiled at them in return.

  “Tell me, why are the mages so fascinated with you?” Artemis asked when she turned to face us again.

  It was a simple question, and yet it felt like a test. A lie, or an omission, would surely see us barred from the forest, but only after Big George was allowed to exact his own punishment. The truth would earn us an easy journey to Scranton-Barre, and maybe a bit of good luck to go with it. Still, I hesitated and part of me felt that I should say they were after the guns and leave it at that.

  “It’s me they’re interested in,” I admitted as I peered into Artemis’ eyes, and I saw the smile of approval that just lifted the edges of her mouth. “I can make guns appear.”

  “Ah,” Artemis stated as she studied me. “I seem to remember hearing about that legend years ago. Every mage with a mission wanted to find you and recruit you.”

  The last statement was directed toward Sorcha, who kept her gaze focused on the portal mage, though I did see the blush that filled the Irishwoman’s cheeks.

  “I know very little about any of it,” I confessed. “But the Magesterium has been following me ever since I… discovered my power.”

  “And this one?” Artemis asked with a nod to Sorcha. “What has she offered you?”

  “A safe place,” I replied.

  “A place where he can explore his gifts on his own,” Sorcha added defiantly.

 

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