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

to cooperate covertly with humans and those who want to wage war with humans?”

“Yes,” Milo murmured, arms still crossed.

“As you’d expect, it is deeper and darker than that. The anti-humans call themselves the Guardians, and along with stirring up animosity toward your kind, they send what they call Questers out to find secrets and tools or weapons they can use against humanity when they eventually declare their war. Imrah, it seems, was a Quester, and she did in fact find a weapon that could have done even more damage than it had already. Do you know what caused your armies to advance so quickly?”

“The enemy retreated,” Milo replied, eyes narrowing. “Some thought it was a trap, but it turned out to be a strategic repositioning.”

“The repositioning came when Imrah first unleashed Kimaris,” Rihyani explained, the words sending a preemptive chill up Milo’s spine. “The coalition of enemies arrayed against you, both the native soldiers and those from Europe and India, retreated because they were losing entire companies in a night. The official reports are that your armies used some sort of chemical attack.”

Milo shuddered at the fate of so many men, screaming and running through tunnels and across mountainsides, only to be overtaken by the foul tide that would spend days digesting them.

“Dear God,” Milo murmured, running a hand over his face. “So Imrah didn’t just set loose the monster, but she set in motion the events that nearly saw her people at war with humanity.”

Rihyani nodded, taking a step toward the door.

“Yes, though besides the timing, I’m not sure war would have been disagreeable to her sensibilities.”

It was before the end, Milo thought, remembering the broken, despairing look in the ghul’s eyes as she embraced death.

“Regardless,” the contessa continued, seeing Milo was slipping deeper into his thoughts, “such desperate and dangerous schemes seem intertwined with the Guardians’ efforts, so among those who seek to work with humans, a faction has emerged that concerns itself with stopping the Guardians and their Questers before they can do too much damage.”

“The we you mentioned earlier?”

“Yes,” Rihyani confirmed, then gave a little bow. “We call ourselves the Shepherds, and while we are few, we are active in ferreting out Questers and keeping the chaos at bay, at least for a day longer.”

“Is that why you really came to Ifreedahm?” Milo asked. “Tracking down rumors of Questers?”

“Perhaps,” the fey said with a smile. “For now, all you need to know is that I’m very glad you and I have had a chance to work together. I imagine we’ll have plenty of opportunities to do so again, assuming you live that long.”

Milo gave a derisive snort, followed by a grudging nod.

“Fair enough,” he said, eyeing the contessa cautiously. “I suppose it wouldn’t be terrible to work with you again.”

“You are too kind,” she replied as she stepped to the door and laid a gloved hand on the latch. “Just remember something, Milo.”

“What’s that?”

“The things always go deeper,” she said, drawing the door open and letting in a blaze of the red sunset. “There is always another mystery, another riddle, another enigma. The secret to surviving at this game is to know when to dig deeper and when to bury things. It is a secret every necromancer would do well to learn.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Milo said, stepping forward.

Their eyes locked for another moment of pregnant silence, then she was out the door and calling over her shoulder.

“Be careful tonight. Don’t raise more ghosts than you can put down.”

Epilogue: Sine Sacrificio

The moonlight glinted off the black winds swirling and coiling across the mountainside. Half a dozen spectral currents of glistening darkness slid across the worn earth and chipped boulders, their movements serpentine and exploratory. To the scavengers not immediately frightened by their arrival, the slithering tendrils seemed to be nosing over their feast like huge flying blindworms.

From his position on the opposite hillside, Milo could see the method in the Si’lats’ movements, an expanding grid as they searched amongst the scorched and shattered remains. The skeletal hulk of the zeppelin was higher up the face of the mountain, but Milo expected their best chance was to work their way upward amidst the splintered remnants of Kimaris’ tortured quarry.

“I’m still not sure this is a good idea,” Ambrose grumbled next to him as he puffed on his pipe.

“Let’s go with not,” Milo said, one corner of his mouth rising in a lopsided grin. A plume of breath rolled from his nostrils, the temperature having dropped drastically since sunset.

“Then why are we doing it?” Ambrose asked before releasing an impatient blast of smoke. “We’re headed out first thing.”

“You can sleep on the truck ride,” Milo muttered distractedly. One of the Si’lats had picked up a bunch of charred bones, but after tossing them about a bit, it went off again.

“That doesn’t answer the question,” the big man said, kicking a fist-sized rock into a downhill bounce. “And standing out here in an unsecured valley with no support and no one knowing what we are doing is exactly the kind of thing to get two fools captured or killed.”

Milo gave his bodyguard a wink.

“You could always head back,” he teased. “Leave me to my foolish ways.”

Ambrose spat downhill, the spittle staying aloft for a record-worthy amount of time.

“I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again.” The big man sniffed. “You’re not nearly as funny as you think you are.”

Milo chuckled and turned back to watch his shade-animated agents continue their search. He watched the Si’lats for another handful of heartbeats before he looked back at Ambrose, his eyes narrowed accusingly.

“Hey,” he cried sharply. “You never finished explaining your resurrection gimmick.”

Ambrose puffed his pipe three times and muttered the word “gimmick” grumpily before heaving a sigh and tapping the bowl out.

“My gimmick,” he began pointedly as he slid the pipe into his breast pocket, “is anything but. It’s a harrowing experience as I cross between the realm of the living and the ghostly realms beyond.”

Milo raised a