“I know.” Rowan snorted wryly and left it at that. “But most people find my family very intimidating.”
“Ah. Okay, I’m starting to understand now. Awww, are you worried about me?”
“No. If you don’t find me scary, you won’t find my family scary.”
Milo beamed. “I love this confidence you have in me.”
Even Rowan was surprised by his own conclusion. But still, with the way Milo approached life, he didn’t think the mage feared anything. “I’m just relaying to you the problems. I don’t know which one is more important, really, the sigils or the ward. They’re both in trouble.”
“Ward first,” Milo said, not even pausing to think. “No use fixing the sigils if the ward fails. People need a safe place to retreat to, first and foremost.”
“I can’t fault the logic.”
“Has anyone dealt with the ward?”
It was interesting to see Milo in business mode. He was this aimless, chatty ball of energy most of the time, but Rowan could see the drive that had allowed him to achieve his high mage rank. He could see the man who’d studied hard to get to his position, who knew how to focus and get the job done. It was a good look on him. Rowan approved wholeheartedly.
“They have. Patches, I think. I say that because the ward’s still not in good condition.”
“Hmm. Yeah, if the previous mages were running scared, they probably did the bare minimum so they could escape the north. I might have to take it down completely and start from scratch.”
Rowan nearly broke out into a cold sweat just imagining that. “Will that take long?”
“Depends on a lot of factors. How big the ward is, what the power source is, and how much the ward does. Some wards are just for weather, some include protections against certain creatures or groups of people, et cetera. Based on our conversation yesterday, seems your ward protects against weather and creatures, right?”
“Right.”
“Makes sense, makes sense. You said this was the beginning of the season for Drachifel shenanigans?”
“Unfortunately.”
“Well, fuck. Waaaaaait, that’s why you’re so worried about the ward, right? Because the Drachifel are dormant in the fall, it would have been far safer to take the ward down then and rebuild, but it seems like mages bail right before winter orhaven’t done more than minor patches, so you haven’t been able to truly fix the ward. Am I right?”
Milo’s first impression might be that he didn’t have an active brain cell anywhere in his head, but he was quite sharp to put the pieces together so quickly.
“Yes, exactly.”
“Those stupid bastards. Ugh, and now we’re fixing the ward during what’s arguably the most dangerous time.”
Rowan wasn’t happy about it, either. “I’ll protect you as you’re working.”
Rowan would have protected him regardless because he needed the ward and sigils to work, but the idea of Milo being out of the ward, with no one to protect him while he worked, sat incredibly ill with him. Yes, Milo likely could protect himself, but that didn’t matter to Rowan. He’d rather be there to defend Milo and let the man safely work.
“Awww, boo-bear, you’re seriously so sweet to me. I’ll take the protection. Hard to focus when I’ve got one eye trained over my shoulder the whole time.”
“That’s what I thought.” The matter settled, Rowan relaxed a hair.
“So”—Milo leaned forward on the cart’s bench, expression eager—“how many people are in your family?”
“Parents, two older sisters, older brother, brother-in-law, and twin nieces.”
“Oh, you’re the baby of the family?”
Rowan let out an aggrieved sigh.
Milo cackled. “It can’t be that bad!”
It was. His siblings always teased him about being the baby of the family. “What about you?”
