Wizardborn (World's First Wizard Book 3) by Aaron D. Schneider & Michael Anderle

Author:Aaron D. Schneider & Michael Anderle [Schneider, Aaron D.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: LMBPN Publishing
Published: 2020-11-18T16:00:00+00:00

“Get him out of here,” Ambrose bellowed as he drew a trench knife from his belt. Without a backward glance, he began stalking toward the oncoming soldiers.

Rihyani had her hand on Milo’s shoulder, but she shouted after the big man as she tried to pull him to his feet.

“Ambrose, don’t!” she cried, as Milo forced himself to clumsily stand up.

Some of the soldiers were already leveling their rifles at Ambrose, who kept walking forward, knife in hand. Milo knew that even with his preternatural strength and speed, it could only end one way, and that was not with a surprise victory on Ambrose’s behalf. There were too many, they were coordinated, and all he had was a knife.

“Ambrose!” he shouted, which sounded more like a donkey braying than anything else. Despite this, Milo called out two more times as he lurched forward. Ambrose stopped a few strides away, blade still in hand.

“Get out of here, Milo!” he growled without turning around. The soldiers were a dozen strides away and had formed a line. Their rifles were at their shoulders, Lokkemand looming behind them.

Milo staggered next to Ambrose and rested his hand on the big man’s shoulder.

“If they wanted us dead, they would have blown us up,” Milo rasped before hawking a mouthful of sour phlegm at the hovel. “I’m not sure what game Lokkemand is playing, but it seems to involve keeping us alive.”

“He’s gone over to the Reich,” Ambrose hissed. “That’s what this is.”

Lokkemand cleared his throat, and the soldier in front of him slid aside to allow him to stand facing Ambrose squarely, hand held behind his back.

“Nothing so dramatic,” the captain said, straightening to stare down his nose at Milo and Ambrose. “I’d rather eat a bullet than join those zealots, but the realities of the situation in this godforsaken country require me to make certain compromises. One of them was the assurance that the operation in Petrograd remained secret. You can see how things have been complicated.”

Milo spat again, this time toward Lokkemand.

“How does doing their dirty work not count as joining their side?” he snarled, wishing the world would stop lurching in and out of focus.

To Milo’s surprise, the captain laughed as he continued to glare down the field at Milo.

“You are very brave and sometimes even clever, Volkohne, but you never seemed to grasp that we are a branch of military intelligence.”

Milo chose to blame his inebriation for his failure to put the pieces together and kept glaring at Lokkemand.

“I’ve brokered an arrangement with the warlord in Petrograd, and soon I’ll have enough to bury the Reich,” Lokkemand replied archly. “It’s not as dashing as midnight raids and quests to discover magic secrets, but it gets the job done.”

“Except it caused the murder of three men and has you pointing guns at allies,” Ambrose growled, ready to explode across the intervening space. “Maybe you should try our way.”

“I do what I can with what I have.” Lokkemand sniffed. “And these guns will only be used if you choose to misbehave.

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