Witchmarked (World's First Wizard Book 1) by Aaron D. Schneider & Michael Anderle

Author:Aaron D. Schneider & Michael Anderle [Schneider, Aaron D.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: LMBPN Publishing
Published: 2020-09-30T16:00:00+00:00

“Oh, I could’ve throttled the little monster,” Milo snarled as he paced in the common room. “Every step of the way, he’s been dangling and using us!”

Ambrose grunted his acknowledgment from the kitchen, where he watched over a boiling pot of rice. Milo had insisted he was too angry to eat, but the big man had insisted they have something after the excitement of the day.

“And now, after only three days—three days!—he’s sending us off,” Milo continued. “How am I supposed to learn anything if I am being shoved right back into the fighting? Marid’s welching on his agreement with Jorge now that he’s done with me.”

“Even if that might cost him his daughter?” Ambrose called, still stirring the simmering pot. “He did say he was sending her with us.”

Milo paused in his pacing to consider the point but shook his head.

“I think it’s pretty clear there is no love lost between those two.” He shrugged as he returned to stalking back and forth across the common room. “Besides, a creature like Marid wouldn’t care about things like that. Monsters like him never do.”

Milo lapsed into brooding and nearly jumped when a sharp hiss filled the room. He whirled to see rice being drained. Ambrose looked up, his face reddening in the cloud of steam.

“You seem to think you know quite a bit about the Bashlek,” Ambrose noted as he hefted the pot onto the stone countertop and began adding spices, minced vegetables, and diced meat.

“Because Marid is like every other petty despot.” Milo huffed and threw himself down on a couch, which gave a loud creak of protest. “Call them Bashleks or Headmasters or Officers or Gang Bosses or Monsignors, they’re all the same—self-serving predators who have clawed their way to the top of their local garbage heap.”

The flood of memories that came with the description dragged Milo’s hands to his head, and he kneaded at his temples. His fingers worked vigorously, as though they might squeeze away the invasive recollections.

“Well, there’s a bit of baggage that screams for unpacking.” Ambrose chuckled grimly as he scraped what they both hoped were minced leeks into the steaming pot of rice. “So, you want to talk about your problems with authority figures in general or simply hop into exploring your issues with priests?”

Milo looked out from under his hand to fix Ambrose with a scowl.

“Is that slop you call food ready yet?”

Ambrose raised his chin and looked down his crooked nose at Milo.

“I thought you weren’t hungry, O mighty Magus,” he replied archly as he continued folding in ingredients.

“I’m just hoping you’ll have something to shove into your mouth soon.” Milo grunted as he spied the two codices he’d received thus far. He scooped up both and deposited them in his lap.

“It needs to stand for a few minutes,” Ambrose said, leaving the food to cool on the countertop as he ambled over to the couch across from Milo. “Which is just enough time for you to explain how someone who seems passably intelligent is being so very stupid.

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