Witchmarked (World's First Wizard Book 1) by Aaron Schneider (my reading book .txt) 📕

Just ahead was the branch of passages that led to their apartment, and urgent voices could be heard. The words were in Ghulish, which Milo realized with a smile he now understood. Raising a finger to his own lips, he craned his neck to listen.

“I don’t care if you’ve a missive signed by Azazel himself,” he heard one voice replying with unmasked belligerence. “The orders are that only those chosen by the Bashlek may see the Magus, and that is a shortlist you aren’t on.”

That must have been one of the guards Fazihr had posted. The ghul retainer had respected their wish for no guards in the apartments, but one was stationed in the corridor right outside their door.

“You fool,” the second voice said in a lofty tone Milo took a dislike to instantly. “This isn’t an idle request to gawk at the humans. This is a call to appear before the Nether Council immediately.”

The first voice gave a vicious laugh.

“Last I checked, the Nether Council advises the Bashlek, not the other way around. You want to guess which one I’m more worried about?”

The second voice snarled in frustration, its tone growing more frantic.

“Do you understand who came to court today, cretin?”

Milo could imagine the shrug in the intervening silence. It was followed by a disgusted sound in the back of the throat of the haughty voice. Ambrose began to lean over to peek around the corner, but Milo grabbed his shoulder. When the big man turned to him, bemused, Milo again pressed a finger to his lips and then tapped his ear.

“A troupe of the meddling fey,” the second voice hissed. “For all their long-nosing about, the pix are good for something, and that is news. They shared a tidbit that requires the Nether Council to question the human.”

“Question, is it?” The guard snorted. “First an appearance, now questions. If we send the Magus down, do you think he’ll make it before the questions become an interrogation, or will you just skip the whole business and make it an execution?”

Milo found himself liking this guard despite himself. He could appreciate the ghul’s sarcasm, even if it was delivered in a tongue as vile as Ghulish.

“If an army of humans is marching over our heads mere days after a human arrives in Ifreedahm, don’t you think the council should ask questions?”

The silence that followed was wrenchingly potent.

“A human army?” the ghul guard burbled less certainly. “When? How many?”

“Am I going to see the Magus?”

There was a low hiss, then the clack of teeth snapping irritably.

“The Magus is still in training with Lady Imrah,” the guard said quickly, as though the words were hot on his tongue.

“Fine,” the second ghul said with obvious strain. “Do you know when it will return?”

Not sure what he was doing but determined to figure things out, he slid free of Ambrose’s arm and bid the man follow him.

“It has just arrived,” he declared sharply as he rounded the corner. “Now, tell me what you fine gentleghuls want with a humble man such as me.”

He finished with a flourishing bow, one hand extended and clutching his skull cane.

Both ghuls gaped at him as though he were a demon summoned by their conversation. Milo wondered if they’d have been less surprised if he was a fiend. Shock and what looked suspiciously like hunger shone in their wide eyes.

“Laying it on a bit thick,” Ambrose grumbled under his breath. He stepped forward to address the unblinking stares of the ghuls.

“All right, fellas,” Ambrose called, giving his hands a clap before rubbing them together. “What’s your business here?”

“The Magus must attend the Nether Council,” the guard ghul answered, his claws picking nervously across the knobs of his vertebrae whip. “They’ve some questions to ask.”

“Do they now?” Milo asked and fixed the ghul with a steady glare as he moved to stand shoulder to shoulder with his bodyguard.

The ghul gulped and looked away.

“Indubitably,” the second ghul replied, straightening his bone-white mantle on his narrow shoulders. “There have been developments that require immediate consideration.”

Milo looked at Ambrose, who wore a wary scowl.

“You’re a popular fellow, it seems,” the big man muttered.

“It does seem that way.” Milo shrugged, wishing he felt like the dapper operative he’d imagined only moments ago. “Fine, take us to the Nether Council.”

The mantled ghul nodded and swept past them to lead them down the citadel’s winding corridors.

“Hope you know what you’re doing,” Ambrose murmured at Milo’s shoulder.

“They were talking about a human army being near Ifreedahm,” Milo whispered. “Do you suppose there are some of ours?”

“Haven’t a clue.”

“Well, this is how we find out, isn’t it?”

Ambrose’s frown remained fixed, and he shook his head.

“I suppose, but I don’t like it,” he grumbled, adjusting the rifle on his shoulder. “The only thing more useless than one bureaucrat is a council full of ‘em. And that’s before you get anyone’s nethers involved.”

13

An Interruption

Seeing fey for the first time would have been memorable enough, but seeing them in the gloomy halls of the ghul citadel was a moment Milo would never forget.

They shone like jewels filled with beautiful light, their very skin giving off a soft illumination that defied the twilight of the audience chamber. They wore heavy gray cloaks and gloves that hid most of their bodies, no doubt a consideration to the ghuls, who winced whenever they looked at the lovely creatures. Beneath their hoods, they shone. Even more striking than their height and features, providing an uncanny combination of feral vitality with inescapable courtliness, was the variety displayed between the three. Each was different from the others, yet some aesthetic marked them as one species.

One's skin was the color of grass shoots, and from neck to temple, delicate vines curled and swayed in an internal wind. Another, tall and regal beyond human proportions, bore a perpetual smirk and had skin of polished bronze as his ruby eyes took in the world with a fiery stare. The last, the shortest