Witchmarked (World's First Wizard Book 1), Aaron Schneider [most important books to read .txt] 📗

himself to his feet. “Get your affairs sorted. We leave in the morning.”

Milo had just arranged his bag for the night when there was a knock on the front door.

“Who is it?” he called, his hand straying to the cane resting against the wall.

Ambrose was out disposing of whatever elements of Imrah’s laboratory Milo couldn’t make use of.

“A friend.” It was Rihyani’s silvery voice.

Milo rose and went to the door, ignorant of the smile that hovered on his lips.

“In broad daylight?” Milo asked as he drew the door open to see Rihyani peeking out from under her heavy traveling robes. “With so many soldiers roaming around?”

“Many and strange are the visitors of the Sorcerer in Black,” the contessa said lightly as Milo moved to allow her inside. “I am only adding to the mystique.”

Milo shook his head as he closed the door, and they walked into the den beside the kitchen.

“So, you’ve heard about that then?” he asked, wishing he could offer her something to eat or somewhere to sit. The only things left in the house were their trunks, packs, and sleeping rolls, all gathered into a heap by Milo.

“Oh, where do you think they got the idea?” The fey chortled softly. “I usually prefer not to be center stage, but I am rather proud of that little improvisation. Your commanding officers didn’t think it was too on the nose, did they?”

Milo paused for a moment at Rihyani’s confession, then shook his head vigorously.

“What? Oh, no, no, they liked it,” he said quickly. “Captain Lokkemand loved it. Truth is, he pointed out how building the myth is the best way to keep things from being taken seriously.”

“Good, I’m glad.” Rihyani smiled, wine-dark eyes glittering.

“Uh, yes, well,” Milo floundered, his cheeks flushing and his stomach knotting. “I just wanted to say...um, thank you for saving us…twice…and then with the zeppelin crew, and before that... Well, just, thank you for everything.”

The words had come in such a jumbled rush. Milo was winded, and for a moment, he just stared at her.

“You are most welcome,” Rihyani said, laughing in the way that made his heart ache. “I only hope the tale of Der Zauber-Schwartz and the Lost Patrols grows with each retelling, knowing the tales will never be as fantastic as the truth of what happened that day.”

“For sure,” Milo muttered lamely and found he was having a hard time raising his eyes above the floor.

For a moment, a silence potent with potential passed between them, then Milo cleared his throat with a grunt and gestured at the piled-up luggage.

“We’re moving out in the morning,” he said. “Going north, but I’m not sure where.”

Rihyani nodded slowly, and then, straightening as though just remembering, reached inside her cloak.

“I heard, which is why I brought these,” she said, drawing out a satchel. “Bashlek Marid sends them with his regards, as well as a command to not return to Ifreedahm anytime soon.”

Milo took the satchel and found it contained several parchment codices. Combined with what he’d already been given and what they’d found in Imrah’s effects, he had months of material to read and practice.

“Why am I banished?’ he asked, a frown creasing his brow. “What did I do?”

Rihyani cocked a delicate eyebrow as her dark mouth twisted into a wry grin.

“You mean, besides save his kingdom and bear witness to his daughter being a dangerous traitor and heretic?” The contessa chuckled. “Oh, Milo, it has nothing to do with you and everything to do with ghul politics. You remember what I told you about Fazihr going to Lady Dazk?”

Milo nodded and his mouth hardened into an angry line. The prohibition against Ifreedahm notwithstanding, he would have loved to track the sniveling little rat down.

“Well, just to prove nothing is ever a sure thing,” Rihyani began as she straightened her robes, “it seems Fazihr, being Imrah’s retainer, was part of finding and liberating that thing. You called it Kimaris, yes? Well, the worm thought sharing that with Lady Dazk would win him favor and provide an opportunity to overthrow Marid. Instead, it saw him delivered rather promptly to the Bashlek’s dungeons.”

Milo’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“How did that happen?” he asked, genuinely intrigued.

“It seems that Lady Dazk’s primary concern is the good of ghulkind,” Rihyani said in bewilderment. “Seeing the threat was as dire as it was and knowing that, whatever their differences, Marid would never tolerate wanton destruction, she delivered the bound Fazihr with her personal guard. Since then, she has been a vital asset, working with the Bashlek’s agents to track down anyone who knew or even suspected Imrah was consorting with the Guardians.”

“Guardians?” Milo said. “Is that what Kimaris was?”

The word seemed too wholesome to describe the nauseating horror, but Milo supposed aesthetics and sanity might be in the eye of the beholder.

“No,” Rihyani said, her eyes darting left and right so quickly Milo barely had time to notice. “Kimaris was something older and fouler than we have experience with."

“’We?’” Milo asked, bemused as he watched Rihyani shift her weight to her back foot.

“Milo,” she said tentatively, unsure for the first time since he’d met her, “there are aspects of this world, the world of the Folk, that will take time and experience to learn. I’ve probably shared more with you than I should have. I’m not sure more will be helpful, and it could be dangerous.”

Milo bristled, his arms sliding across his chest even as he forced his voice into a level tone he didn’t feel.

“That seems to be a popular tune with a lot of people,” he said, his eyes locking onto hers. “But considering you’ve already let a few things slip, wouldn’t it be best if you gave me enough information to keep me from coming to the wrong conclusions?”

Rihyani’s gaze hardened. Milo wasn’t sure if he’d crossed a line, but he’d planted his flag, and he wouldn’t back down now.

“Very well.” The contessa sighed, shrugging her cowled shoulders. “You remember when I mentioned factions who want