Wizard's Blood [Part One]

by Bob Blink

  The blast in the enclosed space was louder than he had expected, and the recoil caused the pistol to jump off target. Desperately trying to bring the gun back on target, he heard a sound from Asari which caused him to pause momentarily. The wolf was standing, stationary, and then slowly collapsed down onto the rock floor. Almost immediately the beast became translucent, the bones showing through what had been solid flesh seconds before. The transparency faded slowly, and the bones of the deceased Muloka fell into a shapeless pile at Randy’s feet. The large skull dropped to the ground with a clunk, and rolled onto its side at the head of the pile.

  How the hell, Randy was thinking when Asari shouted out behind him.

  “Wizard!”

  Randy turned to see Asari looking at him with a mixture of fear and gratitude.

  “You lied! You told me you had no magic ability. I have just seen how great your power is. Only the greatest of wizards could kill a Muloka.” The boy backed away as if uncertain whether Randy would unleash a second thunderbolt on him.

  For a moment Randy was stunned, and then he grinned. He held out his hand with the Colt still in it. He realized he hadn’t ‘safed’ the pistol, an oversight he quickly corrected, and said, “Not magic Asari. Technology! This is another of the tools from my world. It is a weapon, not too unlike your bow. It killed that thing, not me.”

  It took the boy a few moments to understand what he was saying, and a few more before he reluctantly came forward slowly and looked at the chunk of metal that Randy held in his hands.

  “This little thing can kill even a magical creature?” he asked. “You knew you could kill it?”

  “Honestly, I didn’t think I had a chance in hell of hurting it,” Randy replied. “After seeing your arrows pass through I figured the bullets would do the same thing. I just figured I had nothing to lose. So I took a shot.”

  “Bullets?” Asari asked, pulling the unfamiliar word out of the conversation.

  “That’s what it shoots,” Randy answered. “Like your arrows, but much smaller and faster. Here, look at the skull.”

  The boy didn’t want to go near it at first, but after a moment’s hesitation his curiosity got the better of him and he followed Randy over to the pile of bones. Randy pointed to a small hole in the skull, that was perilously close to the edge. He had nearly missed the damn thing at point blank range.

  “That’s the hole it made going in,” he explained.

  He reached out and picked up the heavy skull, and turned to hand it to the boy who stepped back. In the process of lifting the skull, something rattled and fell out onto the ground. Randy looked down to see a slightly battered, but mostly intact .45 slug lying near his feet. He grinned, put down the heavy skull, and picked up the slug.

  “Here,” he said, handing the slug to Asari. “This is what came out of my gun. This made the hole and killed the wolf.”

  Asari took the slug in his hand and looked at Randy for a moment. Finally he opened his hand and looked at the object lying in his palm.

  “By the Dragons!” he exclaimed. “Cuprum!”

  “Cuprum?” Randy asked, but then realized what the boy meant. “Yes, it’s made of copper. So what?”

  “You really don’t know?” Asari asked, still looking at the slug in wonderment. “You truly cannot be from here.”

  “What is the big deal about a bit of copper?”

  “There is no copper on Gaea,” Asari answered. “Well, there is a little, but it is extremely rare. This is worth at least five, maybe ten, gold Royals. That’s enough for a man to live comfortably for a year.”

  “How can there be no copper, er Cuprum, if you know what it is?”

  “Everyone knows what it is. People hope to find a tiny bit for the money it would bring. There used to be much copper, but before the Mage Wars the world was purged of all its copper.”

  ‘How and why would anyone do that?” Randy asked mystified. “It is an extremely useful metal.”

  “It is said the Wizards did it somehow. Copper is immune to the power. No one can cast spells upon it, and it can pass through any wards or shields as if they don’t exist. Copper in the hands of normal folk makes the wizards vulnerable. I could kill a wizard with this.”

  Randy saw the look in Asari’s eyes and knew what he was thinking. “So that’s how it killed the Muloka?” he asked to change the subject.

  “It is so. The copper easily penetrated the shields, and once the copper hit the brain, the creature was destroyed.” He hesitated a moment, then asked slyly, “Do you have more of these?”

  “I have a few. Not near as many as I would like now that I see what they can do. But listen Asari. I know what you are thinking. With this you can kill Cheurt. His shields would be of no use against the copper bullet. This gun is for very short range. You saw how I almost missed from a hand length away. At home there are weapons like this designed to accurately hit a target at over five hundred yards. From what you have told me Cheurt would know you were there before you could get close enough to hit him. Besides, I want to know what he is up to.” Surprised at what he was saying, Randy added, “Maybe in the end I’ll help you kill him.”

  “Will you show me how it works?” Asari asked as he reluctantly acknowledged what Randy had said.

  “I will, but not here and now. I want to get away from this place.”

  Asari looked at the bones and shivered. “Me too. We will bring the skull. There is only one other I have heard of. The Mages will want to know of it, and it will be worth money. We are going to need money to make the journey you must travel.”

  “Can we sell the copper bullet?” Randy asked.

  “Easily. Copper can be sold with ease. I wish you had more. Wait,” he said as he suddenly noticed the different color at the base of the slug. “This is not solid copper. There is something else in the center.”

  “Lead. The copper serves a purpose, but it isn’t dense enough to make the bullet. The denser lead gives the bullet stability for longer range shooting. Does it matter? Can’t they separate the lead easily enough?”

  “Of course. The smiths are very skilled with something so valuable. But lead is very common and essentially worthless, so it will be worth less than I said; perhaps only a single Royal or two.”

  He held out the slug for Randy to take, but Randy waved it away, indicating Asari should hang onto it. While the boy continued to examine the treasure, Randy searched around him for the spent cartridge case, finally spotting it a dozen feet away where it had come to rest after bouncing across the rock floor. Picking it up, he walked back to Asari and handed it to him.

  “Keep this as well,” he said. “It’s brass and is over two-thirds copper. It has to be worth something as well.”

  Asari accepted the banged up piece of metal, and quickly recognized the relationship between it and the slug he already had. He tried fitting the two together, while Randy took a last look around. He wasn’t looking forward to the climb back across the wall face as they made their way back out of the crevice, but he was suddenly certain that he had formed a bond with Asari, who now truly believed what Randy had been telling him.

  Chapter 6

  They recovered as many of Asari’s arrows as they could find on their way back out of the area, but several had passed through the beast and bounced off the rock and into the ravine behind him. Those arrows were lost far below in the rocks and brush that covered the ground, and neither felt it worth the time or risk to try and find a way down to recover them. Randy doubted whether his command of the power would allow his lifting ability to be of use at such a distance, but was uninterested in even trying given the boy’s reaction to any use he made of his abilities. It was a moot issue, as the arrows were not to be seen.

  The Muloka’s skull had been attached to Asari’s wooden carrying frame, and despite the awkwardly balanced load, the boy had scrambled across the rock face over the crevasse with the agility of youth as though there wasn’t a perilous drop below him at all. Randy’s trip a
cross proceeded far more slowly, and he wondered how he had managed it so quickly on his earlier attempt. Once across, they recovered the first two arrows Asari had shot at the creature, and then headed away from the rocky hillside back towards the path that led back to their intended campsite. Both were more observant than they had been earlier, but the return of the forest creatures put their minds at ease, and soon they were making good time.

  The euphoria of having escaped a horrid death showed in their demeanor, and the event had forged a bond between the two men they both could feel.

  “You will show me how to use your weapon, yes?” Asari had asked before they had gone very far.

  Randy had been expecting this. The youth’s interest had been obvious from the moment he had been shown the weapon, and what normal boy didn’t have an immediate attraction once exposed to firearms.

  “It’s called a pistol,” Randy explained. “There is also another class of handgun that are called revolvers. They are constructed a little differently, but they perform a similar function.”

  He sighed. The small amount of ammunition they had was precious and couldn’t be wasted, which made any practical instruction impossible, but the boy wouldn’t accept that. He wanted to know more about the marvel that could bring down a magical beast; a beast that even the most powerful of wizards normally feared.

  “I’ll show you how it works,” he relented. “Understand, we have so little ammunition you will not be able to practice. That is a serious drawback with a weapon such as this. It takes many hundreds of rounds to develop an even modest proficiency. That is my problem as well. I haven’t practiced and was lucky I didn’t have to shoot much further than I did or I probably would have missed. If anything, I am a rifle shooter, which is a very different skill set.”

  Asari nodded sagely, hearing primarily the words that indicated he would get his wish and be taught how to use the weapon. “When you said there are rifles that can hit a man at five hundred yards you were exaggerating, yes?”

  “No, I was telling the truth. I have brought down a deer at over four hundred yards, and I am not a skilled shooter. I read about a man who was able to put three rounds into a pattern you could cover with your hand at twice that distance. He was using a very special weapon, one which would be far to heavy to carry around, but his feat shows just how remarkable these weapons are.”

  “I wish you had brought one of these rifles with you,” Asari said with complete seriousness, as though Randy had been able to plan his transfer to this world.

  Randy smiled. “Even if I had one, the issue of ammunition remains critical. How long did you have to practice with your bow to be able to consistently hit your target? It is the same with these weapons. The skills to use them properly take a long time to acquire, so don’t expect a miracle. Just pointing and pulling the trigger is not going to accomplish your goal.”

  “When?” Asari persisted, not wanting to lose his advantage, and showing the eagerness Randy had detected earlier.

  “Tonight after we settle in I’ll show you the basics. You can practice dry firing the pistol until you get some muscle memory built up.”

  “Dry fire?” he asked uncertainly.

  “Firing without ammunition,” Randy explained. “It is one way to practice and get familiar with the function without expending valuable ammo.”

  Asari smiled contentedly, and let the matter sit as they continued their trek.

  “You said earlier that you felt things that were different with this return of Cheurt compared to the past,” Randy asked a bit later. “What did you mean?”

  “To start with you arrived at the same time as Cheurt. Since your arrival, he has acted a bit differently; almost as if he was uncertain about something. I have been wondering if there is any chance that he senses your presence in some manner. It would have to be uneasiness or something of the sort because if he truly knew you were here he would have come looking. It is unlikely anyway because from what my friend has told me such a sensing would require the two of you to have paired minds at some time. That just isn’t done, and you would know of it.”

  It had happened, Randy realized. Cheurt had done something that involved probing his mind back on Earth that first time they had come face to face. More must have come of that than he realized. Idly he wondered if that event from months before had anything to do with the abilities he had suddenly gained with regard to the “root” the previous day.

  Asari continued speaking. “This morning he hesitated before departing, again acting as if something was not settled in his mind. Then he drew heavily from the well of power for some reason. It wasn’t that long afterwards the Muloka appeared on our tail. I am wondering if he possesses the power to control the magical beasts here like the wizards of old are said to have done.”

  “Have you ever seen any indication of such an ability?” Randy asked.

  “There has never been anything. Once I saw him encounter one of the more dangerous non-magical predators of the woods. An angry Balot came charging out at his group suddenly. Cheurt casually raised his hand and a sheet of white fire abruptly appeared to surround the Balot, reducing it to a smoking pile of ash in seconds.”

  “Do his men carry any weapons?”

  “Their ability is weapon enough, although two of them have bows. I haven’t thought about it before, but you have seen how useless a bow is against the magical creations.”

  “Unless their arrows are special. It is likely they know the effectiveness of copper against the creatures. Who better than the wizards? I’ll bet if we could find one of their arrows we’d see it has copper in the arrowhead.”

  “That would imply their magic is insufficient to control the beasts,” Asari observed. “Perhaps his magic is only able to summon them.”

  The discussion was interrupted by their arrival at the clear lake they had stopped at briefly on their way earlier in the day. Asari shrugged out of his pack, and taking his bow made his way a short distance around the small lake to where a large flat rock stuck out into the water. Mounting the platform, he made his way out into the lake, making certain his shadow didn’t fall on the water. Randy watched intrigued as the youth nocked an arrow and let fly in a single fluid motion. Moments later the surface of the lake was disturbed by violent splashing, which soon died away as one of the large fish floated on the surface with the arrow sticking out of its side. Using the small branch he’d picked up on his way to the rock, the boy reached out over the water and hooked his arrow allowing him to pull the fish close enough to reach.

  By the time Randy made his way over to the shore where Asari had taken the fish, the youth had gutted and cleaned it. He packed the interior with a mixture of local flowers as Randy watched and guessed they might be flavoring. Then wrapped the whole fish in several layers of the long grasses that grew everywhere here adjacent to the edge of the lake. He smiled as he stood and handed the fish to Randy.

  “Dinner,” he said. “Can you carry this back?”

  The fish was as securely wrapped as if he had been placed in one of the plastic zipper bags he used at home, and knowing the boy already had a full load with the skull he carried, Randy packed away the heavy catch without protest.

  Before they started on their way, Asari led Randy over to a large grove of fruit trees. There had to be thousands of them, all heavily loaded with a soft-skinned fruit that looked much like a medium sized tomato.

  “These Bintas grow wild everywhere,” he said. “They are not popular, and inside the cities the groves have been all but destroyed. I have learned to like them, and they are very healthy.”

  He reached up and picked one, handing it to Randy to try. A bit uncertain, Randy took a bite and felt his mouth fill with juice and pulp that tasted somewhere between a strawberry and a tree ripened peach. It was one of the best things he ever tasted.

  “People don’t like these?” he asked surprised. “These are fantastic!” He was thinking what a fortune he could make by transporting these by the ton
back to Earth if he could ever get the jump point figured out.

  After eating another, Randy helped Asari pack a half dozen in with the fish for their dinner. He wanted more, but the boy insisted they could be found many places, and they were too heavy to carry very many. Asari indicated he felt it was foolish to burden himself with something he could easily find anywhere along their way with a little looking around..

  Back on the trail, Randy raised the question of money. He had been so focused on survival, he hadn’t considered the length of time he was likely to be here, the time it would take to get where Asari wanted to take him, and what costs might be encountered. It seemed there might be at least a partial solution to the problem as a result of the surprising scarcity of copper.

  “When you saw the copper in the bullet you suggested it would be worth gold in exchange. I have no concept of the money here. Can you educate me a bit on the money and relative value?”

  Asari grinned, as if wondering when the topic might arise. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small handful of coins. He picked out one, a worn disk, about a half inch in diameter, that seemed to be made of some kind of sturdy speckled glass. He handed it to Randy. It was heavier than he would have suspected, and sported a hole in the center that was roughly a quarter of the coin’s diameter in size. There was a pattern on one side, and writing wrapping around the coin on the other, which he was surprised to be able to read.

  “One Cerm,” he read out loud. “Okay, so how much is this worth?”

  “That’s the basic coin. The others here are fractions of the value of the cerm. The tarq is one-sixteenth of the cerm, and the nubs are one-sixteenth of the tarq. The coin you are holding is made from a type of glass that has had powdered lead added during the manufacture to give a bit of substance to it. The glass is supposed to be hard to duplicate with the writing in it to prevent someone from making their own coins. You could buy a small meal for a couple cerms or get a room in a nice inn with a full dinner for fifteen or so.”