by Dante King
Mage Slayer (Book 1)
Dante King
Ryan Vermont
Copyright © 2019 by Dante King & Ryan Vermont
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
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About the Authors
1
I stood inside the library’s entrance hall, the marble staircase beneath my feet held up by ancient spells. Like the rest of the library, the staircase oozed with sensory details. And I could see more than anyone else. Ever since I was a kid, I could see magic. It formed patterns and colors. Powerful magic even presented itself to me as scents. Sensing magic in this way was my only natural ability. The rest of the world considered it little more than a parlor trick, so they branded me a Zero.
Almost everyone in Trysca had an affinity, but I’d learned to ignore the auras of the vast majority. It was only the truly powerful wizards and sorcerers who could capture my attention now, along with a few dozen artifacts inside this library.
Streams of diamond-encrusted sunlight filtered in through the 50-foot-high arched window in front me. The western edge of the city was visible through the stained glass, and I could make out Waygate Center Station. Airships moved back and forth with their usual streamlined maneuvers as they carried travelers through the giant wayportal.
“Woodsman!”
I turned to see Barick at the top of the staircase. He wore the same uniform as me: dark trousers, black boots, and a dark blue tunic that marked us as guards of the Arcanum. The only difference was the shiny silver badge on his chest that distinguished him as Captain of the Library Guard.
“Captain,” I nodded as I walked up the staircase and stepped onto the landing beside him.
“Where the hell have you been?” Barick asked, clearly irritated.
If he hadn’t been my superior, I would have rolled my eyes. He knew exactly where I’d been. I’d been patrolling the second floor in the West Wing, as part of my shift duty. That didn’t make a difference to Barick; he liked giving me a hard time. Of course, I could have pretended it got to me and give the poor guy some satisfaction, but I also liked to have my bit of fun.
“Patrolling the second floor, Captain,” I replied.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
“Wow.” I smiled. “I’m flattered.”
Barick’s eyes turned to slits. “You think you’re funny, don’t you?”
“Funnier than most, not as funny as some,” I replied with a shrug.
Barick was looking at me with the same off-kilter expression he usually wore when he couldn’t find some bitingly witty response. In those cases, he fell back on mocking my lack of magical ability.
“I suppose a sense of humor is all you have,” Barick quipped. “Zero.”
There it was. He had been flinging the same uninspired insult at me for as long as I’d worked as a guard in the Arcanum. I felt sorry for him; the insult didn’t burn the way he wanted it to. I was perfectly content with my ordinariness. It wasn’t like I was without skill. The fact that I’d been taken on as a guard in the most important magical library in Trysca proved that. I couldn’t cast spells, nor did I wield any magical weapons. But I could swing an axe, I had lightning reflexes, and I could more than hold my own in hand-to-hand combat.
Barick’s magic was clearly visible to me. It formed a faint silver aura around him. Despite that, I was sure I could take him; my fighting abilities were sufficient. I think he suspected the same, which would explain why I annoyed him so much.
I suppressed a smile and kept direct eye contact with Barick, something I knew he didn’t like. He found it threatening, and he was always the first to break it. His sense of superiority had a habit of holding his intelligence captive. It probably wasn’t fair to play mind games with him. But he asked for it, and I had to keep myself amused somehow. It could be lonely work patrolling the library floors. As beautiful as the library’s magical artifacts were, they didn’t exactly make for lively company. Anyway, I’d had my fun. It was time for business.
“I take it the catacombs have a new infestation, Captain?” I asked.
Barick’s jaw tightened. “Yes. An increased amount of rodents have been spotted. We don’t want them entering the library.”
“Of course not.”
“Gorvin is on duty at the entrance, but this is a job best suited for a Zero,” Barick said with a provocative glint in his eye.
If he expected me to gripe or refuse the order, he was sorely mistaken. I was not one for disobeying my superiors, even if they were total dickwads.
“Of course.” I nodded. “I’ll get right on it. I’ll need someone to cover my shift in the West Wing though.”
”Don’t you worry about that; I’ll be patrolling the West Wing,” Barick replied. "Now, go. Make sure you kill every last one of those critters.”
I nodded curtly and strode off. Killing every last rat wasn’t just another Tuesday-morning job. These were city rodents; they weren’t fooled by poisoned strips of meat. And like almost everything in Trysca, they were innately magical.
These critters were attracted by magic, and since the library was a treasure trove of magical paraphernalia, they were permanent residents of the catacombs surrounding it. Their numbers seemed to keep growing, no matter what ruthless extermination methods I and others tried. This seemed to be a universal trait of vermin, no matter where you ended up.
I crossed Tryscian Hall, a semi-circular room with Palladian windows and gilded walls. My leather bounds barely made a sound on the coral marble floors, and I ran my hands along recessed shelves that boasted a rare collection of magical tomes, all specific to evocation magic.
There was only one plinth in the entire space, and even in this majestic setting, it commanded all the attention. As I walked by the series of intricate tympana illustrating the history of Trysca, my eyes were glued to the hypnotizingly smooth surfaces of the red-gold block. Nobody could deny that this was a fitting home for the most important magical item in the whole city: the Terminus Seal.
I paused momentarily as I passed it by. Modification enchantments had been used to keep it hovering in suspended animation, enclosed within its thick glass container. The palm-sized, jade-green stone had been encased in intricate webs of bronze iron that snaked up one side like armor. Qilzid the Artificer had designed it a lifetime ago. I sensed the stone’s potent magic so intensely, it almost felt tangible.
With a decisive step onward, I shook myself out of the spell of the stone’s mesmerizing beauty. At the end of the Tryscian Hall were several open staircases and floating bridges leading to all corners of the library, but to reach the catacombs, I had to pass through the only closed door in the West Wing, a short walk from the seal.
There was good reason the strategically nondescript door was closed; stepping through it was like stepping into another world that was best kept separate. I closed it behind me, and darkness hit me
from all sides, but my eyes soon adjusted. Then, I walked down a long, winding staircase that brought me to a narrow, curving corridor.
I could smell the rats already. I could feel their magical cores stretch out to greet me. If I concentrated very hard, I was sure I could tell how many waited for me on the other side… 15, no… ? A final count assured me there were at least 16, maybe 17. Dammit.
At the end of the narrow corridor, I reached a large wooden door with a ribbed pattern carved into the surface. I grabbed the black metal ring on the left-hand side of the door and pulled it open. Despite its size, it opened easily and allowed me to walk into the vast open space of the catacombs.
A more vivid scent of magic soon hit my nostrils, and I looked around, keeping my eyes alert. The catacombs were lit better than the preceding passageway. Fire torches lining the crumbling stone walls illuminated the vast maze of lancet arches that formed the library’s foundation.
My hand fell to my axe instinctively when I sensed movement to my left. Nearby, two rodents were producing a waft of inept magic and musk. I’d only just twisted in their direction when I heard their scurrying feet carry them deeper into the catacombs.
I suppressed a sigh, gritted my teeth, and followed the scent into the gloomy labyrinth. I could hear their frantic scurrying as I approached. Weird. They were always a little skittish, but not this much.
As Barick was fond of reminding me, rats didn’t view Zeros as proper threats. Given their freakish size, they were already quite confident, so I didn’t normally have to give chase.
But there was something in the air today, a different kind of magic than I usually found in this underground maze. It was diluted, though, and unstable. I couldn’t quite pin it down. Perhaps a few students from the institute had come down here to practice on the rodents, as they did from time to time?
I turned a corner but stopped in my tracks when I caught a whiff of an approaching stranger, an aroma that soon grew stronger, but—there were two scents. I paused to distinguish the smells, and they played in my mind’s eye like sounds and colors. One was the intoxicating caress of an exotic perfume, the other the powerful aura of magic.
Suddenly, she seemed to appear right in front of me, though the shifting shadows down here did tend to play tricks on you. She wore a deep green cloak with the hood drawn up. She kept her head down, too, so I couldn’t see her face. A bright purple sheen of magic engulfed her. It was darker, heavier, and much more potent than Barick’s.
"Good day," I said, inclining my head. Though I had intended to be respectful, I felt an irrepressible grin tugging the right corner of my mouth slightly upward. Despite her cloak, I could tell she was beautiful. Her lace bodice was pulled tightly around ample breasts, and sweat glistened on the pale globes as the torchlight danced across them.
She lifted her head, making eye contact for just a moment before looking away. As she pulled down the hood, I took a moment to admire the contours of her heart-shaped face. She had high cheekbones, large, almond-shaped eyes, and full, round lips that were subtly tinted with a plum red, the perfect complement to her rouge-blushed cheeks. Thick black lashes fanned her startling blue eyes, which shone bright even from their shadowy hiding place. Her features betrayed a noble ancestry, an odd backdrop to her jittery movements. It was clear she wasn’t supposed to be here.
I couldn’t think why not, though. Institute students did come to the dungeons when a trial was around the corner, and they had every right to if they wanted. She had to be some kind of high-profile student; she was certainly powerful. I couldn’t see it, but I could sure sense it. . . a palpable tenor filled the space between us.
“Good day,” she finally replied demurely.
“You have your student identification seal handy, by any chance?” I asked, still not able to suppress the slightest grin. She was a sight.
This seemed to somewhat shake her out of her shy daze, as she expertly fished up her seal from an inside pocket and slipped it open for me to see. I nodded and stepped aside to let her pass. She gave me a shaky nod in response and moved on in the direction she had been going without another word.I watched as her footsteps carried her on into the greedy maw of the dungeons’ shadows. I waited until I no longer heard her hurried strides before continuing my hunt. Though there were still occasional torches dotting the uneven walls, I relied more on my other senses. A rancid smell wafted over to me from two tall arches to my left.
I grabbed the nearest torch off the wall and edged closer. “Fuck,” I breathed, my eyes watering from the stench. I swallowed, held my breath, and better lit my path to the arches. Against the wall, right where the arches met, lay a motionless rat. The thing was huge, its head only slightly smaller than mine. I knelt down for a closer look. The creature was dead. Its body looked like it had exploded from the inside. Its entrails spilled from its gut, and spongy innards and puddles of blood stained the uneven dungeon floor. Only the head had remained intact. Its eyes were glassy and wide with terror.
"Who did this?" I wondered out loud.
I had been around these creatures long enough to know that this was not a result of infighting. It was just too gruesome. Someone must have crossed paths with the creature and performed some new spell on it. The young woman I had come across only moments before came to mind. I didn’t believe she had the stomach to do something like this, but I didn’t want to rule her out completely.
I got to my feet and looked around. I saw only shifty shadows, but I could sense the presence of at least three more rats in the area. I held on to the torch as I left the twin arches behind me while making clicking sounds with my tongue. The rats would come to investigate, and that’s when I would strike.
I heard a squeal to my right as a rat darted past, only a few feet from where I stood. It was the size of a small dog—smaller than I was used to—and incredibly fast. Within seconds, I had lost sight of the creature. It didn’t matter though; their magic left a trail. Before long, I found a pack of rats congregating in a dark hollow in the wall of a misshapen passageway.
I shoved my torch forward to illuminate the huddle from up close. Three largest specimens arched their backs and ground their teeth at me. There must have been at least 10 of them, but I was unfazed. At least this gave me something of a challenge.
I threw the torch right into the center of the pack. The sound of their clawing screeches echoed off the stone walls as they dispersed in a frenzy of confusion and panic. Taking advantage of the chaos, I pulled out my axe and sent it flying through the air toward the two rodents closest to me.
The blade hit one rat right in its snout. The blood spraying from the wound agitated them even more. One raced toward me blindly, and I sent it flying with the heel of my boot. I leaped, pulled my axe out of the dead rat’s head, and twisted around again in one fluid motion, catching a group of three of them that were scampering away from me.
I placed my hand squarely on the haft of my ax, and the blade shone even in the muted light. What a beautiful creature this weapon was. With a powerful swing, I sent it flying through the air. It somersaulted twice before catching a rat in the back. The axe hit it with such force that it was sent crashing into a second one.
I smiled with satisfaction as I went to retrieve my weapon. It had almost succeeded in ripping right through the first rodent. The second was wounded but still alive. I gave it a swift death with a hit to the head using the butt of my axe.
I looked around in this moment of silence. I’d managed to kill four, which meant there were at least another six hiding somewhere close by. With my axe in hand, and leaving the now-blood-drenched torch behind, I walked on slowly, pausing at every archway and pillar to make sure there was no rodent hiding behind it.
I caught a flying flash of fur in the corner of my eye and immediately turned around and sent my blade flying through the air in one swift twist. I hadn’t taken the time to aim, but I’d honed my throwing abilities over dozens of fights just like this. The piercing squeal that followed
told me I had hit my target. Before I had the time to go and retrieve my weapon, two rodents charged me. Apparently, they’d decided to go on the offensive. The larger ones were usually bolder, but their bigger bodies made scoring hits a whole lot easier.
They attacked my legs, but my thick boots held their misshapen teeth off long enough for me to brace myself and kick them down with my spiked soles. The wounds didn’t kill the rats, but caught them off guard and kept them at bay for a couple of seconds—more than enough time for me to grab the small knife I kept in the waistband of my trousers and stab both of them in quick succession.
It wasn’t my preferred method of dealing with the creatures, but my axe had been barely out of reach. I wiped the blood off my knife, and just as I was about to put it away, another rat raced toward me. As it flung itself at me, I flung the knife straight forward to meet it in its trajectory. The blade struck it right between the eyes, and it tumbled to the ground. With a sigh of satisfaction, I took my knife from the twitching rat’s body, giving it another quick stab in the heart to be sure, and retrieved my axe from the rat that was dead beyond twitching.
I kept both weapons in hand as I turned slowly on the spot, scanning my surroundings for more of the gnawing little bastards. You would think that, with all the magic in this damn city, the mages would be able to find a spell to keep the rodents at bay once and for all. But apparently, that kind of magic was beneath them.
I heard another faint flurry of movement deeper in the dungeons and immediately walked toward it. My senses had always been sharp. I had developed them from an early age, from the moment I realized I was a non-magical being in a magical world. Mages took their power for granted. They couldn’t see what was right in front of them. The basic act of observation went right over their heads, but to me, it was everything, and I wore my deceptively simple skill like armor.
