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

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The Golem: A Montague & Strong Detective Novel (Montague & Strong Case Files Book 10) Page 7

by Orlando A. Sanchez


  “I needed outliers,” she said. “A blacklisted mage not interested in power, a reluctant immortal bonded to a hellhound. There could be no hint of impropriety. This is not a power grab. This is the rightful succession of Elders in my sect. You must not be connected to the Red Mountain in any way.”

  “I’d say we’re about as improper as it gets.”

  “Exactly,” Jen said. “I personally can’t move against Toson, but you and Tristan can—if you pass this examination.”

  “And if I refuse?” I asked. This was the real test. “What happens if I walk away?”

  “Several things: First, you need to defeat me in bladed combat to be able to leave this circle. This will be no small feat.”

  “You’re that good?”

  “Better,” she answered without a hint of arrogance. “If you refuse to accept the mission after somehow achieving this, Toson will form the golem and destroy the Red Mountain sanctuary. Then, emboldened by this act, he will go to your city and attempt to kill you, and anyone important to you, for my seeking your assistance.”

  “This Toson really knows how to hold a grudge.”

  “You have no idea. With the Earth’s Breath, he can form a golem army of indestructible, obedient soldiers that will follow his every whim. He will be unstoppable.”

  “What is it with mages and creating these overpowered artifacts?” I asked, exasperated. “Doesn’t anyone stop to consider the ramifications of someone getting their hands on it and using it for evil?”

  “Normals do the same thing. It’s human nature.”

  “We don’t create world-ending—never mind,” I said, recalling virtually every invention we had transformed from scientific to military use. “Forget I said that.”

  “Forgotten,” she said with a slight smile. “We are not so different from normals. I know our world is strange to you, but mages have fears and aspirations. We have dreams and families. We love and protect.”

  “And kill.”

  Her expression darkened for a few moments.

  “Yes. We kill. When we lose our way or have to protect what is dear to us—just like you.”

  “There’s also the small matter of you all being slightly unstable,” I said, taking a step closer. She remained still. “Maybe no one is meant to manipulate that much power?”

  “You will find agreement on that in both our worlds,” Jen answered, turning slightly in my direction. “But there is no changing what is so for what we wish. We must deal with the present reality.”

  “This present reality…I’m guessing you want us to kill this Toson and get the Earth’s Breath back?”

  “Kill Toson? Not if it can be avoided. I only want you to get the Earth’s Breath back.”

  “That’s all?” I asked, surprised. “Just get it back to the Red Mountain?”

  Jen nodded.

  “That’s everything.”

  She switched her grip on her blade and closed the distance.

  SIXTEEN

  Blade fighting is a messy, bloody business.

  This situation was made worse by the fact that these blades were kamikira—god-killers. Getting cut by them was bad. Receiving a lethal blow meant death, of the permanent kind.

  Despite the general consensus, I’d rather face a gun than a blade. In the hands of a master, blades were deadlier than any gun, and they never ran out of ammunition.

  Jen was a master. The numerous cuts on my arms and legs spoke to her skill.

  My mastery was in a different discipline—evasion. The numerous cuts on my arms and legs spoke to my lack of skill.

  Holding her blade in a reverse grip, Jen slashed horizontally and then reversed direction. I avoided the initial slash and blocked the second, backhand attack with my own blade.

  With our blades locked, she unleashed an uppercut with her free hand, its intention to remove my head from my shoulders. I slipped to the side, narrowly avoiding the rising fist, which suddenly switched into an elbow strike to the side of my head.

  I ducked under the elbow and rolled back to give myself some breathing room. Unfortunately, that gave her breathing room, too, and she unleashed a side kick into my midsection, causing me to land on my back in a sprawl worthy of Peaches. I rolled to the side and back into fighting stance.

  How was she seeing me?

  “At this point you’re wondering how I’m seeing you,” she said, stalking me around the circle. “Yes?”

  “The thought did cross my mind.”

  “It’s actually quite easy,” Jen answered. “Would you like me to share?”

  “There are many things I’d like at this moment,” I said, parrying a thrust, avoiding a feint, and rotating around another slash. “Doesn’t mean I’ll get them.”

  “It’s…simple…really,” she said with a grunt as we locked blades again. She stepped inside my guard, bent her knees, rotated her body, and flipped me over her hip and into the ground—hard. “I just close my eyes so that I can see better.”

  Stars danced across my vision. The body slam had forced the air out of my lungs as I crashed into the ground at her feet. I had no time to adjust, and rolled before Jen was plunging the knife downward, into the ground, where my chest had been a moment earlier.

  “Just close your eyes to see better?” I asked, taking short gasps. “Answered just like a mage.”

  Jen laughed, then grew serious.

  “If you don’t figure it out, you’re going to die here, Simon. I’m sorry.”

  “Not dead yet,” I said, backing up. “Where are your shoes again?”

  No answer—which, for me, was an excellent answer. Monty’s words came back to me: Use your observational skills, and break that connection. That is the only way you get through this—alive.

  “You never mentioned what kind of mage you were,” I said, working out the trajectory of using the walls for my next attack and feint. “See, little Cece is an ice mage. Makes sense, considering she’s a Jotnar. Monty, I’ve seen use fire, water, and air.”

  I wasn’t going to mention the blood magic. I figured that would make Monty look bad, and he didn’t need any more negative press.

  “You forgot the blood magic,” Jen said, sliding in. “I expected no less from a shieldbearer.”

  “Dammit,” I said under my breath. “How did you know?”

  “It taints him,” Jen said. “Like you, he will have to confront that aspect of who he is eventually. It is inevitable.”

  “He’s not a dark mage.”

  “I never said he was.”

  “This whole thing with Toson, the Earth’s Breath, and your being from the Red Mountain only leads in one direction for an elemental mage. You use the earth in some way.”

  “Well done,” Jen said. “That was much sooner than I expected. Not that it will save you.”

  “This whole circle is a Kobayashi Maru, isn’t it? There’s no way for me to win.”

  “You have to die, yes,” Jen answered, coming at me. “I’m glad you’ve made peace with your demise.”

  “Well, shit.”

  I turned and ran at the wall. She was a few feet behind me and closing. I managed three steps up the wall and pushed off, reversing direction. The moment I was airborne she froze, searching for me.

  I buried my blade in her side before I landed next to her. Her reaction was immediate. She grabbed my wrist, crushing it, and trapped me next to her. She slid, planting a foot behind her and rotated her entire body into the perfect hammer throw—with me playing the part of the hammer. I flew across the circle at what felt like terminal velocity and crashed into the far wall. It was time for the feint.

  I lay perfectly still and focused on my breathing. This was one of the early exercises Master Yat had beat into me. Control the breath. Control the fight.

  His words rushed back even as I made myself one with the ground, the energy of the circle, the vibrations in the air. I emptied my mind and became no thing and everything: Simon, mushin no shin—the mind without mind—is the state y
ou must achieve when you fight. You must be constantly flowing without stopping anywhere. The moment you stop this flow…you will meet Death.

  It was the hardest paradox for me to understand…until now. By stilling myself, it allowed me to connect to the flow of everything around me. For a few brief moments, I altered my frequency and camouflaged my energy signature to such a degree that I disappeared—it also helped that I was near unconsciousness from being flung into the wall. I had, for all intents and purposes, died.

  Jen approached, crouching down next to me. She lay her kamikira near my head, placed a hand on her wound to stop the bleeding, and the other on my chest. I felt the energy at the edge of the circle drop. To her credit, her reaction time was phenomenally fast—just not fast enough.

  I reached up and hooked a hand behind her neck while flinging a leg around her waist, causing her to pitch forward. She outstretched an arm, stopping herself, reached to the side for her blade, but was too late. I held it to her neck.

  “Well done,” Jen said as Ezra, Monty, and Peaches approached the circle. “You have passed the examination.”

  I let her go, fell back, and laid in the grass, admiring the cloudless azure sky.

  “That sucked. No offense.”

  “What have you discovered about yourself today?”

  I sat up slowly. The warm flush of healing I was accustomed to was missing, replaced with a dull ache all over my body.

  “After much self-evaluation, I’ve realized that deep down, I really, truly, dislike examinations.”

  She chuckled and then grew semi-serious.

  “Well said,” she answered. “I, too, dislike them.”

  “Really? That’s not what was coming across as you were pounding me all over the circle. It seemed like you were enjoying yourself.”

  “Well, a little,” she confessed with a nod. “It’s been a while since I’ve been able to fight with someone. No one would dare enter a battle circle with an Elder. It’s just not done.”

  “You really ought to hook up with Master Yat,” I said. “He has no problem beating on people.”

  “Master Noh Fan Yat is an old friend.”

  “I’m not surprised,” I said with a groan. “You share similar beating philosophies.”

  “He and his infernal stick are memorable.”

  It was my turn to chuckle, which I regretted instantly.

  “Why?” I asked. “What was the purpose of all this?”

  Her face darkened.

  “Toson will try to kill you,” she answered, looking over at the approaching trio. “If he can’t, he will attack those closest to you and any he deems an obstacle.”

  “I’m familiar with the method, trust me.”

  “You can’t reason with him or appeal to his sense of justice or fair play. There is only one truth—his truth.”

  “You couldn’t just tell me that?” I asked. “Even an email would’ve been good…really.”

  “No, I couldn’t. You needed to know this was possible. You needed to experience”—she waved an arm at the circle around us—“a circle of death.”

  “Can we not do that again…ever?”

  “The skills you tapped into while facing me, are the skills you will need to face Toson and his golem.”

  “Fear and an extreme sense of self-preservation?”

  “Observation, deduction and extrapolation,” she said, getting shakily to her feet. “He has few weaknesses and the golem fewer still. How did you figure it out?”

  I stood slowly, careful not to aggravate my assortment of injuries. I really needed a large cup of coffee and a nap.

  “Bare feet allow you to have a connection to the earth,” I said. “Your melee style of fighting means you like to be close to your opponent, feel where they are. Nice throws, by the way.”

  “Thank you,” she answered. “That was a calculated risk. What if you were wrong?”

  “Like Ezra said, the best way to know someone is to fight them.”

  “You managed to cut me,” Jen said, touching her side gingerly. “But you weren’t fighting to kill.”

  “Neither were you,” I said. “Trust me, I can tell the difference.”

  “I’m sure you can. Toson will not afford you such mercy. How did you know to attack from the air?”

  “I figured, being an Elder your skill was high enough that you could probably sense air vibrations too, but relied mostly on your connections to the ground.”

  “Impressive,” she said. “That explains the aerial attack.”

  I nodded. “For a few seconds, I hoped you’d lose me while I was airborne. Even if you could detect air vibrations, it was my only window of attack.”

  “When you face Toson, there will be no rules. He will use all of his abilities to destroy you. You cannot hold back.”

  “I don’t intend to.”

  Peaches bounded over to where I stood.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  “There have been developments,” Ezra said. “The violent kind.”

  “Developments?” I asked. “What developments?”

  “The golem has been spotted in the city,” Ezra answered, his voice grim. “It would seem Toson has altered his plans.”

  “He’s removing anyone that could help me defeat him,” Jen said. “It’s too late. Secure your city and get to safety. The golem is unstoppable.”

  “No one attacks my city,” I said. “No one.”

  “You don’t understand—the golem can’t be stopped,” Jen said. “Ezra, send me back I will begin the fortifications.”

  “I can’t,” Ezra said. “Not until your shift is done. The risk is too great, to you and to the Red Mountain. You are no use to your people dead.”

  “There must be a way to stop this creature,” Monty said. “Nothing is unstoppable.”

  “There is one way,” Jen said, “but it’s too dangerous. You would be throwing your lives away. The plan was to stop Toson before he created a golem. Everything has changed now.”

  “In what way?” Monty asked. “Tell me.”

  “If Toson has created a golem, it means that the Earth’s Breath is in play,” Ezra said. “He’s using it to control the golem.”

  “It’s an ancient artifact,” Jen answered. “In order to use it, the artifact siphons life-force from a victim, draining them until death.”

  “How is he powering this artifact?”

  “If the golem is present, he is using the artifact to make himself powerful,” Jen answered slowly. “The only way to do this is to siphon other mages.”

  “Mages?” I asked in disbelief. “This thing made him the equivalent of a mage vampire?”

  “That’s an oversimplification, but yes,” Jen said. “You understand now why you can’t confront him? Especially you, Tristan. Toson will be wearing the artifact. You have to remove it from his body. The moment you attempt this, the golem will move to protect him—by killing you.”

  “I’m going to have to agree with Simon on this…no attack on this city will go unanswered,” Monty said. “Ezra? If you could facilitate a portal, please.”

  “Of course,” Ezra said, waving a hand and forming a portal that led back to The Moscow
. “Are you certain about this?”

  “No,” I said. “Facing a golem wasn’t the mission, but it seems like we have limited choices now.”

  “You’re beginning to understand,” Ezra said, nodding and handing me Ebonsoul and Grim Whisper. “Remember what you learned here. It will be useful when you face Toson.”

  “I’ll try. It’s not like I can remember every—”

  Ezra whacked me upside the head with a gentle tap.

  “Do or do not—there is no try.”

  With another wave of his hand, the portal wrapped itself around us, disappearing the garden.

  SEVENTEEN

  We arrived inside our office.

  I waited a few beats for the agony to commence and…nothing. Peaches roamed off to our reception sofa and performed a magnificent sprawl, taking up half the sofa. Several seconds later, he started snoring.

  “Did Ezra just Yoda me?” I asked when I felt the rush of warmth flood my body, healing my recent injuries. “He totally Yoda’d me.”

  “I have no idea what you’re referring to,” Monty said, pulling out some books from our library. “We need to research this Earth’s Breath artifact. I have to contact the Professor.”

  “Ziller?”

  “Is there another Professor we know that could have information on an ancient artifact belonging to the Red Mountain?”

  “Good point,” I said. “Hey, my body isn’t in agony. Maybe you can take some portal classes with Ezra?”

  “Or maybe you’re just finally accepting you aren’t a normal any longer.”

  The words hung in the air for a few seconds.

  “It’s because Kali cursed me,” I answered after a pause. “This was beyond my control.”

  “Irrelevant,” Monty answered without looking up from a book. “The cause doesn’t change the outcome. The curse has made you different. You aren’t normal. I suspect you were abnormal even before Kali touched you.”

  “Oh, ha ha,” I answered. “There’s that cutting British humor. The hilarity is killing me—figuratively.”

  “Why don’t you make yourself useful and see if there have been any reports or sightings of this golem,” Monty said, ignoring my comment. “Maybe call the NYTF or the Dark Council? Hmm?”

 

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