Wizardborn (World's First Wizard Book 3) by Aaron Schneider (read me like a book txt) 📕

“Figure of speech,” Ambrose said as he began to slink to the broken window, careful to stay out of the line of fire. “Point is, if they’ve got troops enough to pin us all down, they might have enough to storm this spot to get a better line on Lokkemand’s men.”

“We need to get out of here, or we’ll be overrun,” Milo said, wincing as a stray shot ricocheted about the room.

“Thank God he’s here,” Ambrose remarked dryly as he sank to one knee next to the broken window, the Gewehr coming to his shoulder.

Rihyani gripped Milo’s shoulder and pointed at the large window over the bar.

“Break that and we can wind-ride out,” she shouted.

“We’ll be exposed out there,” Milo protested and pointed at Ambrose. “And if we take him, we’ll be easy targets for sure.”

Ambrose pivoted on his knee to fire a shot with the Gewehr before swiveling away from a torrent of return fire.

“Don’t worry about me,” Ambrose growled as he ejected a spent shell and chambered a fresh one. “I can give them something to worry about while you two get clear of the place.”

“What about the si'lat?” Rihyani offered.

Milo shook his head.

“I don’t know if I can keep them from going after Lokkemand’s men,” he said, his gaze wandering over to the window opposite them, where he could see the road between the curtains. “The si’lat won’t differentiate between one group of men with guns and another, and unless I can see everyone to direct them, they're likely to waste time tearing up the town.”

“That and you can’t wind ride while controlling those monsters,” Ambrose added before swiveling around for another shot. This time he was greeted by so much return fire, Milo felt certain the window frame and the wall around it were both about to collapse into rubble.

Thinking quickly, Milo snatched out his pistol and snapped off a trio of shots to send the window above the bar tumbling to the floor in a shower of dazzling daggers.

“We’ll get out and clear that patch of woods,“ Milo shouted, pointing over Ambrose's shoulder at a patch of woods to the right of where he’d been shooting. “When you see witchfire, get moving.”

Ambrose nodded despite the scowl on his face. Milo turned to Rihyani as he returned his pistol to his belt and gave her his most dashing smile.

“Come on, dear, let’s fly.”

Milo hadn’t taken any opportunities to practice wind riding since Georgia, and it showed as he clung to Rihyani’s hand and lurched through the air.

They cleared the broken window easily enough, but the wizard was sluggish in both turning and acceleration. Rihyani, who had millennia of experience, dragged him along, but she could only compensate so much. Instead of darting out the broken window, they lurched out, with Milo nearly gashing his dangling legs on the way.

Thankfully, Ambrose took the opportunity to pump shot after shot into the tree line, which was probably the only thing that saved the wind riders from coming under fire immediately.

As it was, they were diving for the trees when the first enemy shots hissed past them, a scattering of panic fire as they came down on what turned out to be exactly where the enemy had congregated. They were ragged figures in the baggy khakis of the Russian forces—a dozen men all told, huddling amongst a tight stand of young pines.

As Rihyani and Milo sailed over their heads, Milo saw their eyes widen with terror even as their mouths snarled feral curses. They swung around to bring their rifles to bear.

Before another shot could be fired, Milo focused, and at the speed of thought, sensed their minds. With an outward shove of his will, he scattered images of him and Rihyani in every direction, some breaking into more images until the canopy was darkened by the illusory targets.

The squad of men was still firing and spitting curses into the trees when Milo and Rihyani touched down. One of the soldiers stepped out of his cover, screaming and shooting into the tree branches before his head snapped to one side, half of it missing. The Gewehr’s report sounded as the corpse crumpled to the ground.

A few of the soldiers returned to firing at the hotel window, but the rest remained intent on firing up at the images of Milo and Rihyani above them.

“Come, darling.” Rihyani laughed in a liquid roar as she bared her fangs. “Let us be terrible together!”

I am learning to like her, Imrah chimed in Milo’s head, and a ferocious smile spread across his face.

“Who am I to argue with a lady?” He chuckled, the onrush of adrenaline and excitement turning the laugh into a wild roar.

As one, they rushed between the tree trunks and sprang like wolves to the kill.

Rihyani shed her traveling cloak in one rolling shrug, then she bounded forward, sometimes on her feet, sometimes on all fours. Milo drew on the cane’s empowering essence and threw himself after her in great rushing leaps. The eagle’s eye sockets burned with witchfire, and he brought it back as if to smash them with great crushing strokes.

Screaming their joined fury, Milo and Rihyani fell on the ambushers like a hammer on rotten fruit.

Rihyani pounced on the nearest man. He spotted her charge, but he was too slow to get something between her claws and his chest. He went down gasping and wheezing as she ripped her talons from his chest and whirled to look for her next victim.

Milo swung the cane, and a lash of green witchfire tore across four men with rifles pointing toward him. The sorcerous flames ripped into them, biting deep into flesh and finding it to their liking. All four collapsed as emerald fire gnawed up and over their bodies with a ravenous light.

“More demons!” shouted one of the remaining men, and without another word, they all turned and made a dead run back into the forest.

Milo and Rihyani were left standing in the crackling glow of