Sorcerybound (World's First Wizard Book 2) by Aaron Schneider (best color ereader .TXT) 📗

“I’m not saying it’s easy,” Ambrose began. “I’m just saying we can’t have you going off the deep end trying to save her. We’ve got other problems, big ones, headed our way.”

Milo felt a twist in his chest as the implication of what Ambrose was suggesting began to sink in.

“You want me to let her die,” Milo muttered, disbelieving.

“Now that’s not what I said,” Ambrose began, but Milo shoved away from the table hard enough to make the bench bark across the stone floor.

“You’d rather me focus on preparing for some enemy that may or may not be coming,” Milo growled as he rose slowly to his feet, “than spend my time trying to save the woman who is responsible for saving both of our lives and who came here to help us because we asked her to!”

Ambrose crossed his arms over his massive chest and scowled.

“First, I’m not saying you can’t try or even that I could stop you from trying,” the big man retorted, his voice sinking lower, softer, and yet somehow more powerful. “But you nearly killed yourself trying to figure out formulas for Jorge. We don’t have time for you to be out for a week again, trying to save her.”

Milo could see his concern, and part of him even acknowledged it was a fair point, but his temper was up and he was standing angrily across the table, so he wasn’t about to back down just yet.

He sneered. “Anything else?”

“Second,” Ambrose growled, his hands curling into mallet-sized fists. “These aren’t weather predictions you can shrug off. The Americans weren’t the real threat, and pretending that things are ready to wrap up is setting yourself and everyone else up for a hard fall. Like it or not, Lokkemand may be the commanding officer, but you’re the one leading this operation. You need to think bigger, bigger than Rihyani. You bleed yourself dry and wreck yourself trying to save her, then this all falls apart.”

Again, Milo could see Ambrose’s point, but there was something his anger and will could find traction on, and he went after it with zeal.

“Why do you think I need to save her, huh?” Milo asked, pointing toward his study where the stricken fey now lay. “You think it’s because she’s beautiful and I have some childish feelings for her?”

Ambrose looked ready to fire back but caught himself with his mouth opening and shutting. He let out a spluttering sigh and ran a hand over his face.

“Are you telling me that isn’t the case?” he asked with deliberate calm.

“I’m telling you it is more than that,” Milo replied, leaning forward so Ambrose could look deep into his eyes. “I’m telling you I’m thinking bigger, much bigger, and yet smaller.”

Ambrose narrowed his eyes and shook his head.

“Start making sense, or I am going to have Brodden check you over for a head injury.”

Milo felt his anger cool at the bemused look on the big man’s face, even as he warmed to his subject.

“The bigger picture here is not that a bunch of armed men is moving around Georgia,” he explained. “It’s the Great War, after all, and that’s been normal for decades. No, the bigger issue is that we are dealing with intervention and manipulation by supernatural forces into this ugly, bloody mess.”

“By which you mean, besides you, the Shepherds and the Guardians?” asked Ambrose, cocking his head to one side.

“Exactly,” Milo agreed. “We are certain the Guardians mean all humans harm, while the Shepherds mean to help at least some of us, right? And we’re fairly certain that unless something drastic happens in this war, it will keep dragging on as it has for the last twenty years. The drastic thing is either the Guardians or the Shepherds. The Guardians have already chosen to side with, or at least manipulate, bastards like Epp and others.”

“Which is precisely why you need to be focusing on preparing for them. You know, arming up and resting up?”

“All the preparation in the world won’t do me much good if I don’t have a guide,” Milo explained, forcing the words through gritted teeth. “There’s still so much I don’t know. You say I’m scared of being an inferior magus. Sure, I guess that is true, but I’m not nearly as scared of that as I am of not knowing what I can do to stop the Guardians. For that, I need the Shepherds, and last I checked, the contessa is the only Shepherd we know.”

Ambrose began to nod.

“So, having her come here wasn’t just a bribe from Jorge, and you saving her isn’t just an act of desperate romance?”

Milo gaped at his bodyguard.

“Is that what you both thought this all was?” Milo asked, appalled. “Some sort of schoolboy crush?”

Ambrose shrugged, his cheeks coloring a little.

“You have to remember something, Magus,” he said, scratching his whiskery cheek. “To us hoary old veterans, you look half a step past being a snot-nosed brat, yet we all know you’ve got the keys to the kingdom, as it were. I think sometimes we forget there’s more meat than milk running through you.”

Milo shook his head slowly, and then, looking at the reminder of his food, decided he’d calmed down enough he could do with a little more lamb.

“Given what you feed me,” he said before stuffing the cooling chunk of flesh between his teeth, “you’ve got no one to blame but yourself.”

“I suppose so,” Ambrose said, his eyes twinkling as he watched Milo. “You never explained the smaller thing.”

“Huh?” Milo asked as he filled his cup.

“You said you were thinking bigger and smaller,” Ambrose said. “You explained the bigger, now what about the smaller?”

“Oh.” Milo grunted as he gulped down a mouthful of water. “What I meant is that when it comes down to it, even though the smaller thing is to worry about the damsel in distress, that doesn’t stop it from being the right thing. In fact, I’m beginning to wonder if it’s the only thing any