Most of the time Julie took practice seriously, but on days like this some switch malfunctioned in her head, disconnecting her brain from her body. She rotated her spear like an oar and slapped mine, knocking it down. I struck at Julie's midsection, moving slow like molasses. I couldn't hit an elephant with a gun at ten feet, although I could probably bludgeon it to death. My best friend, Andrea, was teaching her to handle guns. Seeing the colors of magic wouldn't help her to kill a vampire.
Julie's magic was rare, and highly prized, but useless in combat. If the lowlifes didn't get you, the magic aberrations with giant teeth would.Įvery person was responsible for his or her own safety, and we relied on magic, guns, and blades. Meanwhile, with resources scarce and life cheap, people did a fine job preying on each other. The cops did the best they could, but half of the time the phones didn't work and all available officers responded to important emergencies, like saving schoolchildren from a flock of ravenous harpies. Magic and technology still fought over us, playing with the planet like two kids tossing a ball to each other. Several decades ago magic returned to our world, crushing our technological civilization and whatever illusion of safety we had with it. It built muscle, reflexes, and balance, and she would need all three when we moved on to the sword.
But Julie was my ward and my responsibility, and practicing with a spear was good for her. Mostly I killed people in bloody and creative ways. In my twenty-six years, I've held many jobs. "You'll use it in the next five seconds to keep me from impaling you." "Kate, like when will I ever use this in real life?" Julie rolled her eyes with all the scorn a fourteen-year-old could muster and pushed her blond hair away from her face.
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