Witchmarked (World's First Wizard Book 1) Aaron Schneider (read book TXT) đ
- Author: Aaron Schneider
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Magus and bodyguard reached the rear of the zeppelin as the tsunami of slime filled with screeching faces launched toward them.
The men looked toward the edge of the zeppelin and back at the oncoming breaker from hell.
âTogether!â they shouted in unison and leapt as one.
Kimarisâ wave broke just behind them as the men began their skidding departure down the zeppelinâs rear and into the open air above the valley. As they tumbled free, cartwheeling in a nauseating spin, Milo let the last Siâlat pull the pins.
There was a rumble half a heartbeat before a massive fist of flame punched up through the very center of the zeppelin, enshrouding it in flame. Less than a second later, secondary detonations from burning shrapnel and gouts of immolating gas set off the other bladders and ripped through the vessel. In the blink of an eye, the airship had become a second sun, blazing over the valley.
In that inferno, the blaze did not just kiss Kimaris, it embraced the horror like a lover, and together they burned and writhed. The chorus ceased, their torment finally snuffed out as they burned with their captor over the valley.
As this singular dawn rapidly approached its noon, two small figures fluttered through the air, their canvas chutes blazing above them. Theyâd been too close, and the heat had been too intense. They had just enough time to look up and see their desperate gambit play out before they plunged to their deaths on the rocky earth below.
In that moment of embraced inevitability, neither man cried out. Both magus and bodyguard smiled, basking in Kimarisâ ruin.
So busy were they in savoring the works of their hands that neither noticed the radiant forms racing toward them, riding fast and free on the wind.
25
A Novelty
âHave you heard what they are calling you?â Lokkemand asked, sipping from a canteen, his glass of schnapps untouched.
âI typically donât listen to what people call me,â Milo said with a shrug as he finished his own glass. âItâs rarely flattering.â
Lokkemand nodded and secured the cap on the canteen before dabbing his mouth with a handkerchief. They were alone in the tent, most of the files, maps, and typist materials already packed. The war was moving beyond Bamyan, with Epp leading the offensive toward Kabul.
âIt is actually funny,â Lokkemand said, reaching inside his coat and drawing out a cigarette tin. âIâd be worried about it being a breach of operational security if it wasnât already making its way into all the dirty jokes and drinking songs.â
Flipping the tin open, he held it out to Milo, who took one with a grateful nod.
âAll right, Iâll bite,â the magus said, the cigarette hanging from his lip as he fished out his matchbook. âWhat are they calling me?â
Lokkemand waited the tantalizing seconds until theyâd both lit their cigarettes before answering, âDer Zauber-Schwartz,â the captain intoned through a haze of smoke. âThough Iâve already heard a few shortening it to the pet name of âZauber.ââ
Milo coughed on a throatful of smoke and took a moment to gather himself.
âWhat?â he wheezed, watering eyes bright with alarm. âThey're calling me the âSorcerer in Black,â and you donât think thatâs cause for concern!â
Lokkemand chuckled, sending out tufts of smoke.
âWell, thatâs not the only thing they are calling you, just the most flattering. Thereâs VerbranntâHex and Feuergeist. Things only get more imaginative from there.â
Milo stared incredulously as the cigarette smoldered in his hand.
âIâm not sure how that is supposed to make me feel better. I thought the fey worked their magic so the men wouldnât remember what they saw.â
âOh, their memories were suitably modified, but donât you see?â Lokkemand snorted. âYou're on your way to becoming a legend, a myth amongst the ranks of the fighting men of the German Army. Whatâs the one thing all myths have in common?â
Milo rocked back as he realized the captainâs point, savoring a long toke.
âTheyâre not real.â He sighed out a stream of hazy blue-gray.
âExactly.â Lokkemand smiled, then picked up the glass of schnapps and held it under his nose. âWe couldnât have asked for a better cover if weâd fabricated it on purpose.â
Milo nodded, tapping ash into the empty schnapps bottle.
âWhat about the photos and other recordings? They were on a reconnaissance mission after all, and we didnât search them before escorting them off the zeppelin.â
âDuly confiscated by Nicht-KAT,â the captain said as he flapped his hand dismissively, cigarette tracing wisps of smoke. âAll packaged and on their way back to Berlin.â
âTo be examined by experts? Studiedâ? Milo asked with a raised eyebrow. âPresented to the general staff?â
âWouldnât that be something?â Lokkemand laughed bitterly. âNo, I imagine the colonel will peruse them briefly, but he is a busy man, and unless there is something exceptional, heâll mark them to be locked away until some distant, unreachable date.â
Milo popped the expended cigarette into the bottle, where it went out with a damp hiss when it met the dregs of the schnapps.
âAn enormous sentient jelly monster that killed hundreds isnât exceptional?â
Lokkemand and Milo locked eyes through the haze of tobacco smoke.
âYouâre special, Milo, no denying it,â the captain said, leaning to one side to stub out his cigarette on the gravel floor. âBut youâve only scratched the surface of this world. Savor the victory, then brace yourself for the next plunge.â
Milo crossed his arms, letting the words digest.
âAlso, pack warmly.â Lokkemand grunted as he leaned forward to deposit the stub. âWeâre headed north.â
âNot following Epp on his glorious conquest of India?â Milo asked. âIsnât that what every true German would kill for?â
Lokkemand glared at Milo.
âJust when I thought I might grow to like you.â He sighed and heaved
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