Free Sorcerer's Vendetta (The Secret of Zanalon) by Sarah Ray

to the epicenter of the search for them.
    At that moment another minor problem arose that captured her attention: his unfamiliarity with modern women's fashions. Rachel felt a surge of envy and embarrassment when he gawked at one particular knockout blond in a tight denim dress, as she approached. Even as she passed, revealing the daring drop of the dress in back.
    Worse, the woman stopped, turned, and stared back at Zanalon. And smiled.
    A yank got him on his way.
    Money was a small matter, in terms of his power, though he had to copy from what she had: one pound and coins she had happened to stuff in her pocket after she'd stopped for a traveling snack. It took a few trips into different places for change of larger denominations for him to copy but soon they had a decent amount. Rachel almost got used to the small, ghostly balls of light that no one else could see, dancing around his hand as the bills duplicated themselves, then shooting through him, taking their toll. At this effort he barely flinched, though he was still worn from his prior teleport spell.
    While they built their resources, he filled her in, somewhat sketchily, on the details of the events that led up to the theft of his mana, and up to the failed spell of the witch who had been trying to help him. He didn't really know what had brought him out of the spell, though he believed that it had to mean that the witch's spell had not misfired entirely; he had been released because Hafgan had been dangerously close to him. In turn, she told him about the impending sale of the property which had led to his discovery.
    At that, Zanalon narrowed his eyes. "Mayhaps we should investigate the identity of the buyer. It certainly would have been dangerous for Hafgan to take possession of the land---and of me ."
    Soon they had enough money for several meals at any decent restaurant and two rooms at a respectable inn, something that offered more privacy than the usual bed and breakfast. They even had enough for clothes, except they couldn't find a shop open once night fell. As it was, when Rachel mentioned her aversion to wearing her clothes dirty again after her bath, Zanalon offered a small spell that would make them clean and new again.
    Once they found a hotel, it was not easy to convince him it would be best if he waited outside while she made the arrangements. When pushed about the issue of his conspicuous appearance, Zanalon declared that he would be noticed and she wouldn't. Rachel let it alone at that, though he finally did give way on entering the lobby with her.
    At the rooms, she unlocked the door, habitually reached to flick on the light. He slapped his hand over hers, pinning it to the wall, a wounded look in his eyes.
    "Sorry," she murmured, grimacing. "But what are we going to do, stumble around in pitch dark?"
    He closed the door behind them and it was pitch dark. Then she heard the sound of smooth metal ring on metal.
    A sword drawn.
    "Jesus!" she cried, fear zinging along her spine. It wasn't taking the name in vain, at that moment, but a sincere, instinctive call for help, as her trust in Zanalon disappeared suddenly, completely. 
    He's here to kill me!
    Just for an instant, her church upbringing all rushed back when she stared at death in the dark and there was no one else to trust.  Rachel backed away in the blackness, turned, smashed her shin into what felt like a chair, spun again and met the soft edge of the bed at the back of her legs. She fell flat on her back. Holding her breath, she listened for the whistle of cut air, the sound of her demise ...
    Suddenly, a bright but soft, golden light permeated the room. Zanalon stood over her, his sword aloft, glowing.
    She stared up at him, panting, terror apparent.
    He peered around the room as if seeking some other person, some other source of danger. One hand was raised, ready to cast, ready to protect her.  It hit her, then, that he did not know the name of Christ as “Jesus” – in his time, if