The Golem: A Montague & Strong Detective Novel (Montague & Strong Case Files Book 10)

by Orlando A. Sanchez

  “Still not seeing how this is my issue. I’m not a mage, vampire, or were-anything. How is this my business? Did I forget to mention that they threatened to kill Peaches and erase Monty?”

  “Stop being so petty and look at the bigger picture here,” Ezra answered, waving away my answer. “We both know those threats weren’t credible. You’ve faced gods.”

  “We got lucky, multiple times.”

  “What do you think will happen if the Dark Council collapses?”

  I imagined a city without the Council. The image wasn’t pretty. They served an important and needed role in keeping the main factions of the city in check. As much as I wanted to see them blown apart, it would be in our best interests to have the Dark Council intact—for now.

  “Nothing good,” I said. “Still not seeing how this is my problem to fix.”

  “That’s because you’re dense,” Ezra said. “In any case, that’s a situation for another day. We have other issues to discuss.”

  “Other issues? Like what?”

  It was always best to be transparent when speaking with Death. Things like “other issues” could easily be translated into “your imminent demise” if not made clear.

  “Issues—like the golem.”

  THIRTEEN

  “The what? Did you say golem?”

  Monty cleared his throat. “That—is improbable,” Monty said. “Golems are mostly the stuff of legend. They are impossibly complicated to construct and require more power than any one mage can command.”

  “You are mostly correct,” Ezra said, looking at Monty. “If we were talking about the conventional method of creation.”

  “Maybe I misheard,” I said, raising a finger and interrupting the conversation before it headed where I knew it was going. “Did you say Gollum, like The Lord of the Rings? My precioussss and all of that? Are you saying he’s real?”

  Monty gave me a you can’t be serious look, which I returned with a we just talked down a little Jotnar ice mage from a pocket dimension she created stare. Mages—really.

  “No, he’s not,” Ezra answered. “That’s a character in a story. I’m talking about the other kind.”

  “The…other kind?” I asked, shaking my head. “I’m sorry, it’s been an eventful day, what with preventing our building from becoming an ice sculpture, convincing a Jotnar ice child to rein in her super mage powers, and dealing with a pair of paranormal pretenders intent on blowing us all to Jersey or hell—same difference.”

  “That does sound eventful. How is little Cecelia?”

  “Dangerous,” I answered, “and powerful. Scary powerful.”

  “We’ll have to revisit that at a later date,” Ezra answered. “We need to discuss the golem.”

  “Sure, why don’t I put that in my planner? Should I pencil that in after I fix the Dark Council, or before?”

  “I’d put it in the ‘things to do before I’m crushed’ section, if I were you,” said a voice behind me. “You were right, Ezra. He is exactly as you described him. I think he’ll do nicely.”

  “Oh, great, now I sound like a pair of shoes,” I said, turning to face a short woman who stared at me with eyes reminiscent of Syght. Her irises were milky white, but she didn’t stumble around. “Speaking of shoes…where are yours? Wait a second—you’re blind?”

  She wore a simple brown robe with golden runes inscribed across its surface. I noticed hints of red, blue, and green runes appear in the fabric as she moved toward us.

  Her bare feet seemed to float slightly above the ground as she walked. Her deep crimson hair was pulled back in a tight bun and held in place with what looked like small daggers—small, lethal-looking daggers.

  “He’s sharp, too,” the woman said with a small smile and a bow. “Nothing escapes you, Simon.”

  “Like a butter knife,” Ezra added. “This is Orahjene, highest elder of the—”

  “Red Mountain Sect,” Monty finished. “You’re an elemental mage.”

  “Well met, Mage Montague of the Golden Circle,” Orahjene said with another bow. “Magus Bellum Ordaurum.”

  “I don’t use that title any longer,” Monty answered. “We are not at war.”

  “You are mistaken,” Orahjene answered. “We are always at war.”

  “Okay,” I said, holding up a hand. “That’s our cue. Listen, Orajel, Orangina, or whatever your name is—”

  “Orahjene, but you can call me Jen, if it’s easier to remember.”

  “Sure, Jenny, now listen—”

  “Jen or Orahjene,” she interrupted, her voice hard. “No one calls me Jenny anymore.”

  “Sorry,” I said, surprised at her reaction. “Jen.”

  “Simon,” Monty hissed, “this is an elder of one of the most ancient sects in existence—”

  “Tristan, please, let him finish,” Jen said, raising a hand. “Please continue, Simon.”

  “Yes, Tristan, let me finish,” I repeated. “It always starts this way. They hype you up with the, ‘Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You’re my only hope,’ line. Next thing you know some creature is trying to rip our faces off. Pass. Tell her, Monty—we pass. Whatever she’s selling, we’re not buying.”

  “I deeply apologize, Elder,” Monty said with a bow. “Please forgive him. He’s young and still ignorant of this world.”

  “Right, I’m the ignorant one,” I said. “I’m going to remember my ignorance when something wants to rip your arms off and beat you silly with them.”

  Jen turned to Ezra with a nod.

  “Yes, I agree with your choice, but I still need to see the core.”

  “Are you certain they can withstand your examination?” Ezra asked, giving me a concerned look. “He is still inexperienced.”

  “Examination? What examination? Who’s getting examined?”

  “They will face Toson,” Jen answered. “I must be certain they can.”

  “Very well,” Ezra said. “Who do you choose first?”

  “Only him. The shieldbearer,” Jen said, pointing at me. “He will make the choice. The mage is ready, but will falter without the immortal. So, it is set. Let it be done.”

  She turned and walked toward the lawn.

  “Excuse me? What core? Who is Toson and what is she talking about? An examination? I’ve already had my annual physical.”

  “Be still,” Ezra said, standing in front of me. “The Red Mountain sect is an elemental sect.”

  “I gathered that,” I said, peeking around Ezra and looking at Jen, who had removed her robe to reveal what looked like a brown karate uniform underneath. “What is she doing?”

  “She is going to task you with an urgent mission.”

  “What did I tell you?” I said, glancing at Monty. “Help me, Obi-Wan. Never fails. Can I just say no?”

  “No,” Monty and Ezra answered together. Ezra sighed and continued. “You haven’t earned the mission yet.”

  “Is no one listening? I don’t want this mission. I want to go home and sleep for about a week. Why doesn’t she give this mission to Boobhead and Mulch or whatever their names are?”

  “Your reluctance is precisely why she chose you,” Ezra answered. “This mission…this adversary, will be dangerous. Not only physically, but mentally—he will attack you in ways you’ve never been attacked before.”

  “That’s what she means about my core?” I asked soberly.

  “Yes, that is what this examination is.”

  “By examination, does she mean like an in-depth interview? I can handle that.”

  “Not exactly,” Ezra said, placing a hand on my shoulder. “The Red Mountain sect believes that the only way to know someone, truly know someone, is to engage in—”

  “Excessive coffee drinking together?” I asked hopefully, knowing the real answer. “Let me guess, she doesn’t really drink coffee, does she?”

  “Not really, no.”

  “This is one of those fight to the death things, isn’t it?”

  Silence.

  “Right
,” I said, cracking my neck. “At least that’s not much of an issue. It’s not like I stay dead.”

  More silence.

  “This place is in stasis,” Ezra explained. “Similar to what happens when you press your mark. Time stops, which means Kali’s curse—”

  “No longer applies. I’m mortal in here. Wonderful. Hey”—I looked around at the serene garden and river—“there are worse places to end it, I guess.”

  “The effects should be present by now.”

  “That explains why my digestive agony is still present. Or it could be the whole ‘fight to the death’ thing.”

  “I’m here for you, if that’s any consolation,” Ezra added.

  “Are you serious? No offense, but that is the opposite of consolation,” I said, shaking my head. “Are there any rules, or am I going to get blasted by elemental runes the moment we begin?”

  “No magic, no firearms. Only bladed weapons.”

  Ezra waved a hand and produced a small, long case. He opened the lid and showed me the knives inside. They glistened with an internal light of their own. Both of the blades were identical. I had seen them before, in the hands of the Lucent who served Tartarus and tried to skewer me several times.

  It was a pair of kamikira: god-killers.

  FOURTEEN

  “Thanks, but no thanks,” I said, pushing the case away slowly. “I have my own blade.”

  “Which is a siphon, a seraph, and not allowed. I’m going to need you to place your blade”—Ezra removed one of the kamikira and waited—“in here.”

  I opened my hand and materialized Ebonsoul. Its black blade glistened as I placed it in the case and took the kamikira instead.

  “Anything else?”

  “Your other weapon, please.”

  I drew Grim Whisper and handed it to Ezra, holster first.

  “I want to go on the record that I’m doing this under duress,” I said, thinking back to my conversation with Peaches and smiling. “Also, this sucks.”

  “Understood,” Ezra said with a small smile of his own, before growing serious. “Neither Tristan, Peaches, nor I can help you during this examination. Do you understand?”

  “I’m on my own. Fighting to the death with a powerful elder, who needs to make me jump through hoops to make sure I’m worthy of handling a mission that will probably kill me, and those close to me—crystal clear.”

  “Good, you understand,” Ezra said with a nod. “Tristan, any last words?”

  “Really?” I said, staring at Ezra in disbelief. “Last words?”

  “My apologies, that came out wrong,” Ezra answered, stepping to one side. “I meant any final piece of advice you can share with Simon. Better?”

  “Not really,” I said, shaking my head. “I think we both need to get out more.”

  Monty stepped close.

  “Red Mountain mages are adept martial artists, but most of them depend on their abilities and connection to the earth to supplement their techniques,” Monty said, glancing in Jen’s direction. “Use your observational skills, and break that connection. That is the only way you can get through this—alive.”

  Just what I needed before a fight to the death; convoluted magespeak advice on how to take down my opponent that made absolutely no sense.

  “That was completely cryptic and demotivational, but thanks—I think.”

  “Remember: you are one with the force and the force is with you.”

  I stood there mouth agape. “You just Imwe’d me?”

  “Remember our conversation about frequency?”

  “Vaguely.”

  “This would be a good time to apply it.”

  “I would, if I even understood what you were talking about.”

  Peaches padded over and nudged my leg, gently, for the first time ever. That’s when I knew this was serious. I crouched down and grabbed his massive head with both hands.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  With Ezra by my side, I headed over to the lawn where Jen stood waiting. He extended the case and she took the other kamikira.

  “When I step back, this area will be self-contained,” Ezra said, waving a hand and forming an enormous circle beneath our feet. “The seal will only be broken when one of your energy signatures disappears, signaling death and the end of the examination.”

  “Understood,” Jen said, moving to the other end of the circle. “I’m ready.”

  “Good luck, Simon,” Ezra said, placing a hand on my shoulder. “We’ve given you everything you need to pass this examination. Use that coconut you call a brain, and figure it out before she shish-kebabs you.”

  Ezra stepped out of the circle. A wall of sky-blue energy rose into place at the edge of the circle, enclosing Jen and me inside. I poked a finger at the wall.

  It was as solid as steel when I pushed slow, but had some give when I jabbed a quick finger into its surface. It acted like some strange reverse non-Newtonian liquid. Unless I intended to run up and over the side of the wall in an extreme parkour move, I didn’t see a use for it. There’d be no leaping through the energy at the edge of the circle.

  “Ready?” I heard Ezra say, and Jen and I nodded. “Begin.”

  FIFTEEN

  Several things didn’t make sense in a hurry.

  Why kill me if she wanted me for this mission? Why not just take Ezra at his word? It’s not like his recommendation didn’t carry a certain weight—he was Death, after all.

  Something else was happening here and I was missing it. I took a deep breath and calmed myself. Jen stood across the circle observing me, which was creepy as hell.

  I was used to the raving-lunatic-racing-at me kind of opponent, but she just stood there, absolutely still, and gazed at me. It was unnerving, because it made me realize I couldn’t take her lightly. She was analyzing, extrapolating, and looking for weaknesses to capitalize on. It’s what I would do.

  If I attacked, I created more openings for her to exploit. If I stood still, I was working on her timetable. Damned if I did, and damned if I didn’t. I took stock of the situation and slowed my breathing even more.

  She was blind, but she could see. How? Is that why she was waiting? My movement would betray my location?

  “Are you hoping I die of old age in here?” Jen asked. “Or maybe it’s boredom?”

  I declined to answer and remained still.

  Goading tactics. Easily ignored. I focused on what her body was doing, not what she was saying. She stepped to the side staying close to the edge of the circle. I stepped to the side, maintaining equidistance.

  She moved with a practiced grace only produced by years of training. I wasn’t a slouch and had reached certain proficiencies with my prior training and, most recently, intensive training with Master Yat—although training with Master Yat felt like getting advanced lessons in pain tolerance.

  I hefted the kamikira in my hand. The blade was perfectly balanced. The last time I faced one of these blades, my method of escape was leaping from a tall building in a single bound. I shook my head.

  I really needed to re-evaluate my life choices. Deep down I knew Monty and Ezra were right. I needed to stop denying who and what I was, though that was easier said than done. I didn’t ask to be cursed or thrust into the shadow world of mages, vampires, and gods.

  Now, here I stood fighting for
my life—again. It was becoming a habit I needed to shake. The problem was I didn’t see a way out. I was in deep and getting deeper every day. Worse, people counted on me.

  Even this examination was just another roundabout way of saying, “You’re needed for this task”. It wasn’t the method I would’ve chosen, but I understood the motivation. This Toson character sounded like bad news. My question was, why couldn’t Jen bring him down herself? I decided to ask and test a few theories.

  “Why can’t you take care of this Toson yourself?” I asked. “I’m guessing he’s a Red Mountain mage like you.”

  “Toson is nothing like me,” Jen answered without turning her head. “The only thing he wants and craves is power and death—specifically mine.”

  “Sounds like a great guy,” I said, moving to the right a few steps. She moved the same distance to the left, which meant she was aware of my location without needing to hear my voice. “Maybe your sect needs to work on the recruiting process?”

  “We are standing in an extension of my home,” Jen said, taking a step forward. “I am currently undergoing a shift that will make me the First Elder of my sect. If I try to confront Toson in this state, not only will I die, but people close to me will perish as well.”

  “Mages and their shifts,” I muttered under my breath. “Why not wait until after the shift, and then take him out?”

  “By then, it will be too late,” Jen said, shifting into a fighting position. “He will have summoned the golem and destroyed the Red Mountain, along with thousands of mages and their families. He planned this attack for this moment, knowing my vulnerability.”

  “If he’s this powerful,” I asked, “why isn’t he becoming First Elder?”

  “He’s only so powerful because he stole an artifact—the Earth’s Breath. As for being First Elder, why do you think he wants me dead?”

  “Why me?” I asked, sliding into a matching fighting stance, but keeping my distance. “I have no dog in this fight, unless you piss off Peaches. Then you get more dog than you bargained for.”