Free The Ogre Apprentice by Trevor H. Cooley

proper title for now, thank you,” Darlan replied.
    The comment stung the old woman, but she smiled at her granddaughter anyway. “We will have plenty of time to discuss things later.”
    “That we will,” Darlan replied, forcing a smile of her own. Then she grabbed the arm of Fist’s robe and yanked him in the direction of the Rune Tower.
    Fist followed along meekly, relieved that they were leaving the bonding wizard behind. Fist had found the old woman troubling. She had an intangible quality about her that made her presence overpowering. Perhaps it was a family trait because Darlan had it too. With those two women standing side by side, the large ogre had felt positively small.
    Darlan headed straight for the moat around the Rune Tower. They followed along its bank until she was sure that they had moved out of eye and earshot of her grandmother. Then she stopped and turned around to face Fist.
    “Alright, listen. I had to get you away from her before you blurted something I hadn’t prepared her for.”
    “You mean, about the Scralag?” the ogre surmised.
    “I haven’t told her about that yet. I told her about the rest of Justan’s bonded earlier, but not that one,” she said. Darlan reached up with both hands to rub at her temples. “I haven’t told her about Artemus yet for a few reasons. First of all, I barely know the woman. I have no idea how she’ll react to the news that her husband’s soul is still around, trapped inside my son’s chest. Secondly, I am angry at her.”
    “You seem angry a lot of the time,” Fist remarked, then winced, regretting the words as soon as they had left his mouth.
    Stupid , Squirrel agreed. The ogre braced himself for a dressing down or perhaps even an incineration but, to his surprise, she chuckled.
    “Oh Fist, if I’m angry with you it’s because I care. I don’t waste my emotion on people I don’t care about.” She poked his chest with a stiff finger. “I am still furious with you about the trick you pulled earlier, by the way.”
    “I know. I’m sorry,” Fist said.
    “What got into your head?” she asked.
    The ogre shrugged. “I wanted to try the spells again, but I thought you’d be in a meeting all morning, so I got Charz. I knew that I couldn’t hurt him with them and I didn’t think I’d hurt myself.”
    “You think your spells didn’t hurt him?” Darlan said, an eyebrow raised. “His skin was smoking when we got there. Patches of his back were glowing hot. Sure he healed up afterwards, but you owe him an apology.”
    Fist’s face blanched. She was right. He had known that the spells would cause the giant pain and he had ignored the fact. “I will try to make it up to him.”
    She folded her arms. “So what went wrong with the spell?”
    “I tried my other spells first. I made a column of earth and I did that clay encasement spell you taught me the other day. They worked good, but I think I used up too much of my magic for the big spell,” he said. “I made the cloud and built up the electricity but when I let it go, I didn’t have enough earth magic left to protect me.”
    Darlan nodded. “That’s a danger with large spells like cloud lightning. They are usually used as a last defense and you are often already exhausted by the time you’re in a situation where you need to use them. You need to learn your limits or you will kill yourself one day.”
    “I understand,” the ogre said.
    “Hmm. I think it’s time we trained your stamina,” Darlan said, stroking her chin as she thought. “Alright, this is how I want you to do it. Each night, just before you go to bed, drain your magic completely.”
    “How?” he asked.
    She smiled. “It’s an old trick I learned back when I was an apprentice. What you do is you make a ball of light. Then you focus on keeping it as dim as possible.”
    Fist frowned. Making a ball of light was one of the first spells she had taught him. It required only a low amount of focus, but it was very