Sorcerybound (World's First Wizard Book 2) by Aaron Schneider (ready player one ebook .TXT) 📕

vast estate whose whitewashed walls swept in a wide arc that formed a harbor in the midst of the river. Between these lantern-hung arms stood a dock whose planks were richly engraved with glowing patterns of knots and whorls, all of which seemed to move when Milo wasn’t looking directly at them. The illuminated boards stretched from the dock up to form stairs to a hedgerow gate that led to the manse’s gardens.

“Impressive,” Percy commented, looking up at the giant. “It bears a striking resemblance to Château de Kerjean.”

The many heads nodded.

“THE MARQUIS WOULD BE PLEASED TO HEAR YOU SAY SO,” Bakbak-Devi replied. “HE RENOVATED THE MANOR AFTER VISITING HIS COUSIN IN THE FOREST OF BROCÉLIANDE AND TOURING THE DUCHY.”

“Fey go on holiday?” Ambrose asked.

“I guess so,” Milo muttered distractedly, his attention divided between watching the Americans and surveying the manor. The architecture and subsequent historical implications were lost on him, but Milo felt the power vibrating off the construction. The closer they drew to it, the more potent that was until Milo felt it as a low tingle across his skin. Like the hex upon the knife, it was different from essence or shades—less focused, yet more fluid and lively, and it saturated the structure. As the raft slid up to the dock, Milo wondered how much of what he saw was physical objects, stone, wood, mortar, and how much was some magical simulation of the material.

Bakbak-Devi lashed the raft to the dock and then led them across the boards to land.

“THE SECOND SUPPLICANTS SHALL BE INTRODUCED FIRST,” the giant explained as he ushered them off the raft as gently as a mother hen. “AGAIN, I WILL REMIND YOU TO BE RESPECTFUL TO EACH OTHER FOR THE SAKE OF YOUR HOST. BREACHES IN COURTESY CAN HAVE SERIOUS CONSEQUENCES.”

So warned, the Americans and then Milo and Ambrose followed him up the dock and to the hedge gate. Milo expected the Bakbak-Devi to produce an immense key or parlay with an eldritch gatekeeper, but instead, the ogrish servant waved a hand, and the gate swung open silently. Again, Milo felt a tickle of magic, but it was almost imperceptible amongst the background hum of so much magic around him.

Past the gate, they walked through a topiary garden where the plants had been worked into masterful statues of men and women at rest or at play. Their craftsmanship was so incredibly lifelike it took Milo a second to realize something was wrong when one of them raised its head from contemplating a small pool and gave a slight nod of greeting. Milo stared and then waved back.

Milo could animate a corpse through binding a shade or make a wooden statue amble about, powered by a specter, but this was different. This was a living being, reshaped and elevated beyond its simplistic foundations, possibly even given a kind of sentience. Wonder and a jealous hunger to know more raced through Milo.

He was so distracted that he almost trod on Percy’s heels, but Ambrose caught him by the shoulder. They stood in front of a vast round hedge that grew to eye-level with Bakbak-Devi, and inside could be heard the soft strum of harps and the murmur of comfortable conversation. Set into the hedge was a portal of Corinthian columns with a velvet curtain draped across the opening. Bakbak-Devi put a hand to the curtain and slid partially through before pausing to turn half his heads toward them.

“WAIT HERE.”

Then, quicker and smoother than any creature so large had a right to, he disappeared through the portal. The music beyond the curtain stilled as the giant spoke to someone within, but the words were muffled and indistinct.

The Americans held a brief whispered conference while Milo and Ambrose moved shoulder to shoulder.

Ambrose muttered under his breath, “You did want to bring the cowboy along to show the marquis. Looks like you got your wish.”

Milo eyed the whispering duo like he would a pair of vipers.

“I wanted to bring him in as a prisoner, not a guest,” he spat. “I’m not sure I like the idea of them getting the first crack at the marquis. Ezekiel may be a bloody-minded idiot, but the snake in silk isn’t. Whatever happened to first come, first served?”

“Old school etiquette, I think,” Ambrose offered. “The last one into the room is the boss, last to sit is head of the table, the last one introduced is the one most honored.”

“Let’s hope,” Milo said. “We need to get the marquis’ help, and then we need to get back to the Rollsy. Can you get it working?”

Ambrose frowned and shrugged.

“Maybe,” he said. “I won’t know until we get back and I have a chance to look things over, but worse comes to worst, I know where we can get a truck.”

He gave a slight nod toward the Americans, whose conversation had become more animated, Mr. Astor pointing a finger in Ezekiel’s face repeatedly.

“I’d be worried a mad dog like Boucher would bite my finger off if I did that,” Milo said at a volume that made it clear he didn’t care if he was overheard. “That’s the problem with those kinds of pets, isn’t it, Ambrose?”

Ambrose crossed his arms over his chest and nodded grimly.

“True enough. They’ll turn on you eventually, mark my words.”

Ezekiel’s smile stretched with each word until it was nearly a grimace when he turned to look at them. Percy whispered something sharply to the cowboy, but his words went unheeded, so he turned back to the curtain, his face in his palm.

“Funny thing you talkin’ about turnin’, seein’ as you both turned your backs on your own kind.” The scalp hunter tittered. “I may be a bad hombre, but at least I don’t sign my soul away to work for ‘em.”

“I always heard Americans were ignorant,” Ambrose shot back. “I see you’re an exceptional example of your kind.”

Percy sniffed at the remark but refused to turn around, while Ezekiel’s wormy tongue played across his stained smile.

“I am what I