Silver Tongue: A Novel in The Nate Temple Supernatural Thriller Series (The Temple Chronicles Book 4)

by Shayne Silvers

  I winked back. “Breaking rules and pushing boundaries is kind of my thing.”

  At that, every single person in the room began bursting out agreement of specific instances when I had done just that – both to my detriment and benefit. Asterion, voice being what it was, boomed over everyone else as he shared the cow-tipping story. After the story had died down, I leaned over the table. “Ready to make a deal?”

  Achilles chuckled. “Sure thing, Silver Tongue.”

  Asterion’s eyes hardened momentarily at that, but the flash of anger and… alarm dissipated in a blink. I would have to ask him about it later when all this was over. Perhaps with a beer in hand as we celebrated the first night of my agreement with Achilles.

  I still had to prick my finger, but Eae informed us that Achilles’ tear would suffice to seal the deal.

  Feathered jerk.

  Chapter 33

  Asterion didn’t really fit that well in my car. I could feel the shock absorbers practically scraping the asphalt beneath us. Now that money was a concern of mine, these types of things took on a whole different meaning. I would have to pay to fix the car if he broke it. Which meant I would have to use my hard-earned cash from Plato’s Cave and whatever emergency funds I could scrounge up.

  It was… humbling.

  Having always had a security blanket to back me up had obviously given me an entirely distorted view of how the world actually worked. I have to admit, I wasn’t a big fan.

  Tory had hailed a cab with the Reds, stating that she had filled her Nate quota for the night, whatever that meant. I had watched her with concern as she climbed into the car. She looked drawn, distracted, and concerned.

  So was I.

  We hadn’t had the chance to discuss whatever it was she had done during that fight. And if Baba truly knew what she was going through or if she had merely been playing head games. I would talk to her about it soon. After all of this. She needed to watch out for the kids now. She was temporarily out of the game.

  We pulled into the driveway of a farmhouse, but as I looked closer, it flickered back and forth to a medieval looking castle of sorts. A glamour of some kind.

  But this guy had dough.

  He was King Midas, and I needed to ask him a favor.

  Asterion shot me a thoughtful glare, and then used a single bratwurst-sized finger to open his door. The car lurched loudly as he stepped out, groaning in relief. Asterion made a similar sound of complaint at the uncomfortable ride. The cat slept on. “How did you get to Achilles’ bar in the first place?” I asked him, climbing out of the car.

  He merely grunted in reply and began walking towards the front door. It opened of its own accord as Asterion approached. I locked my car – probably unnecessary – and followed. Inside was a pleasant surprise if one had only seen the farmhouse illusion. Rich paintings, tapestries and objets d’art hung tastefully on the walls or rested on small side tables.

  I followed the Minotaur to the living area to find Midas in his usual perch, staring into the fire meditatively, back facing us. “The answer is likely no,” he murmured. Asterion chuckled as he set the cat down on a chair. It curled up and went right back to sleep.

  I smiled to myself as I plopped down into a couch with a groan of comfort.

  Even though it was summer, he still had a fire going. But I could tell it was more for the aesthetic, soothing appeal than for warmth. Asterion sat in a large loveseat, making it look like a regular chair for most humans. I shook my head idly as Midas finally turned to face us.

  “How have you been, Goldfinger?”

  He smiled back politely, but didn’t comment other than a small nod. The silence grew as he sat on a couch facing me.

  “Well, I guess I’ll just cut to the chase…” Asterion was offering me no help, but was instead watching me intently, eyes distant. I wasn’t sure why his demeanor had changed so suddenly tonight, but I wasn’t really happy about it. Midas waited. “Okay. I came up with an idea… a lucrative one.” I added, knowing his pension for investments.

  He blinked, taking a sip of his drink. “One would think you would be better at this.”

  I almost laughed, but realized he wasn’t joking. He was being literal, as was normal for him.

  I told him my plan, feeling sweat growing under my shoulder blades as he merely watched without comment. I felt like I was on Shark Tank, begging for funds, which started to piss me off. I opened my mouth and Asterion’s eyes widened at the look on my face. I bit back the words I had been about to utter and took a deep breath.

  “I thought that this would be beneficial to all. It would even my debt with The Heel, give Asterion here some much needed exercise, and potentially grant you a steady stream of income…”

  Midas took another sip of his drink, eyes glittering me as he weighed me to the hair. I had read that Midas was also known as a judge of sorts, and I felt plenty judged right about now. Everyone had seemed so excited at the bar, but the room was as cold, dry, and merciless as a rusty blade.

  Midas turned to Asterion with a questioning stare. Asterion folded his arms, and then shrugged. “I do not need exercise…” he shot me a withering frown, “but what he proposes has… potential.”

  “Potential…” Midas repeated, eyes roving the room, considering. I waited, really wishing I had a drink to sip and hide my nervousness. After what felt like ten minutes, he turned to me. “You propose I solve your problem, and you disguise it as a return on investment to me.”

  I blinked. Asterion avoided eye contact with me. Fucking coward. I noticed the voice deep inside me beginning to grumble, and tingles of power called out to me. I released the cane handle, not realizing I had grasped it, squashing the sensation before it could tempt me. I turned to face Midas with cool, angry eyes. He had noticed my hand, and was frowning. “To be honest, I never considered it for my own gain. I was reminded of how I had wronged someone – even though they deserved it at the time – and thought about the best thing I could do for him. Give him something he has been longing to do for some time now. That thought led me indirectly to you, and how you might factor into the deal.” I leaned forward, elbows resting on my knees. “That is the only reason. You possibly getting a profit out of it was actually hairball’s idea.” I shot a thumb towards Asterion.

  He began to grumble something until Midas looked at him with an arched brow.

  He fidgeted before finally nodding.

  “Well…” his crystalline eyes turned back to me, and I suddenly felt like a bug caught in a spider’s web. “Are. You. Telling. The. Truth?” Each word hit me like a blow. I didn’t think it was magic, but merely the intensity of his glare. He commanded authority, and was used to getting honest answers.

  Then again, perhaps it really was a power of some kind, judging from the stories.

  I nodded after a deep breath. “You can always say no…” I added, hoping he wouldn’t. Then I would have to find a new way to appease Achilles, while trying to bribe, coerce, or blackmail Eae into joining me for another binding agreement.

  “Ok. I will think on the price of admission…” He was rubbing his chin thoughtfully, not realizing I was staring at him so intently. I cleared my throat and he glanced at me as if surprised to still find me present. “Oh, yes. It truly is a clever plan. You are a clever man.” He smiled, eyes twinkling so that I wasn’t sure if he was mocking me or not.

  “Yeah, a regular Silver Tongue. I had you on the edge of you-”

  “What?” His voice was laced with frost, and his eyes hammered into me.

  Asterion cleared his throat. “I’m sure it was just an idle comment. Nothing more.”

  Midas never turned away from me. “Was it an idle comment, Temple?”

  “Um. Sure. What else would it be?” I asked, confused.

  Midas finally seemed to relax, leaning back into his chair. “Okay.”

  “Yeah, that’s not going to cut it,” I began, suddenly remembering exactly when Asterion’s mood had changed. It had been after
Achilles mentioned those same words.

  Silver Tongue.

  “Well, what is a Silver-”

  A hairy hand was suddenly clamped over my mouth, and I blinked to find Asterion shaking his head as he loomed over me. “Best not to say it again, lad.”

  Midas nodded. “It’s nothing that concerns you, but just know that some phrases have origin stories. And sometimes those origin stories can hear you.”

  I dropped it, nodding. Midas stood, offering to get me a drink now that business was concluded. I nodded absently. He came back with my drink and I took a sip before speaking what was also on my mind. “You’re pretty familiar with some of the old figures from mythlore. Across multiple countries. Right?”

  He nodded, glancing at Asterion with a curious frown.

  “Do you know much about Van Helsing? Baba Yaga? Or some Super Huntress chick?”

  His eyebrows furrowed harder with each name. “Yes. All dangerous. All powerful. Not friends with each other. What makes you lump them into the same question as you did?” He asked, shooting Asterion a quick meaningful glance. He didn’t try to hide it, but he didn’t make it obvious either.

  Asterion was watching me, and hadn’t noticed the look. “They are all in town right now. And they all want the same thing. Something they are convinced I have in my possession. Although I do not. I never have, in fact.”

  “They didn’t believe you,” he stated flatly. I nodded back. “What do they seek?”

  I sighed. “A book. It was at auction last night. I was intending to buy it for a client. Then everyone ends up dead and these three come knocking on… well, knocking down my door, convinced I’m hiding it from them. But they are each independent, seeming to be in a race to get this object. All I know is that it is a book.”

  Midas grew thoughtful, finally standing to approach the fire as he took a sip of his drink. “And you unknowingly agreed to obtain this mysterious book for your client.”

  “Well, when you put it like that it sounds reckless…” Asterion chuckled. “But it’s really not that uncommon. Plenty of people wish to obtain rare items without attracting attention. Mystical shrines, holy objects… unholy objects. Their privacy is what they buy when they pay my fee.” Midas glanced over his shoulder at me, disapproval as thick as molasses. I held up a hand. “After a few… unique transactions, I made it my policy to verify that the item wasn’t dangerous. To the best of my ability anyway. If it is, I notify the Academy promptly. Most of the time.” There had been one time in the last few weeks where a possessed doll had come across my radar, and I had conveniently lost the artifact, storing it deep inside a dusty corner of the Armory. Even Pandora wasn’t keen to explore that wing for some time. “But I found nothing unusual about the object, its history, or my client. I will admit, he was the biggest variable. Hard to pin down, and I’ve never actually met him.”

  Midas finally turned back to face me. “Ask Pandora. I have no useful information regarding the book. But I can tell you that the three you face are… formidable. You are lucky they are not allied. That isn’t saying much. Despite your luck and… skills,” I scowled slightly, but he didn’t crack a grin, “They have been around for centuries for a reason. And… they are obviously immortal. Or as close to it as one can be.”

  I stared in shock. “Immortal?” I whispered. He nodded. “That… that is incredibly unfair.” I finally grumbled. He nodded.

  “Understatement.”

  I glanced at Asterion. He shrugged back. “I have nothing to add. Never been unfortunate enough to cross paths with them. Just heard stories.” I began shaking my head. If the Minotaur was concerned, I should be under a bed hiding. But I couldn’t shake their tail. “What would make them so convinced I have it? I’ve never touched it. Indie was at the auction, but she blacked out and woke up to find it missing and everyone dead.”

  Asterion stared back at me very seriously. Then Midas did the same. I began shaking my head. “No, she didn’t take it. She blacked out. And it was gone when she awoke…” but it sounded weak, even to me.

  “Did you check her?”

  “Of course not. She’s my fiancé. She doesn’t even know what it is. I don’t even know what it is. Why would she possibly take it.” Another thought hit me. “And if she took it, that means she killed, or knows who killed, everyone in that room. There is absolutely no way she would do that.”

  Midas waited in silence for a few seconds before speaking. “But you yourself have told me she has trouble controlling her powers…”

  “It’s a big jump between controlling your powers and murdering a dozen people for no reason.”

  “Maybe you just don’t know the reason…” Asterion murmured softly, eyes pained. I glared back.

  “I think we’re finished here.”

  Asterion began to argue. “Nate, I’m just pointing out flaws in your argument, not condemning or accusing Indie.”

  I kept walking, furious. I plucked the cat up from the chair. It began purring instantly.

  There was no way Indie had killed those people. Or stolen the object without telling me. It just wasn’t her. I could think of exactly zero reasons for her to do so.

  But by the time I had gotten home, I had stubbornly convinced myself to pay closer attention to her, and try to get a sense of any magical objects on her person. Even a trace. Which would mean I would have to try to figure out how the hell that was even possible.

  And I needed to pick Pandora’s brain on what this book might be.

  Maybe there was a nice neat explanation for everything…

  Right.

  Chapter 34

  I was pouring over a pile of papers on my desk at Chateau Falco, eyes sandy and irritated. I had slept fitfully on the couch in the office, having fallen asleep from exhaustion as I tried to get a grip on my new powers, and how exactly I could use them to sense residual magic.

  See, here’s the thing. As a wizard, I had been pretty suave. Energy existed in the world, floating here and there, waiting to be used. Which meant that one was limited to the energy around him. But I had years of experience tapping into it. And I had been good.

  Key word, had.

  The other thing about my old powers was that a wizard was limited to how much they could channel. Some were born with the gift to efficiently channel absolutely any type of energy with practically no wasted effort. Others had to claw tooth and nail in order to make the energy do what they wanted. Sure, they could grab it, but they lost so much energy while trying to manipulate it that even if it was pouring rain outside they could have a difficult time filling a cup of water sitting under an awning ten feet away.

  Then there was the endurance and strength of the wizard. We utilized our own energy to redirect these powers around us, and some were stronger than most, their bodies more resilient, with better stamina. While others grew exhausted fairly quickly.

  I had been known for pretty good stamina, lasting longer than most, and I had pretty fair efficiency. More importantly, I had grown those… muscles through frequent, repetitive practice, like any athlete. And I had some pretty notorious teachers.

  Long story short, I could use magic for longer than most, was pretty efficient, and most importantly, I was clever.

  Listen, I’m not being arrogant. I just thought about things a little differently than most. For example, during a high-speed car chase with a silver dragon chasing us, most wizards would have used brute force to attack the beast.

  But me…?

  I had decided to coalesce the humidity around me to build up between the dragon’s scales, and then to rip that heat away abruptly and violently. The result had caused the mass of water to instantly freeze, seizing up her wings, and she had fallen from the sky, and being made of silver, had sunk to the bottom of the Mississippi River where she had drowned.

  It wasn’t that I had been stronger, but that I had been sneakier. That was no doubt a result of my upbringing. My dad had been a wily one in his day, too.

  But now, none
of that mattered. Because my own people had cursed me, zapping me of my powers when I had died. Luckily, my father had secretly done… something – I wasn’t exactly sure what, and I hadn’t gotten around to pestering his soul in the Armory about it – to me that brought forth an entirely new, wilder, more arcane form of power that hadn’t been seen in centuries.

  A Maker.

  From what I had gathered – which wasn’t much, since every single Maker had been hunted down and killed – we used powers completely different from that of a wizard. Rather than needing the energy around us, it was almost as if we had a conduit to some untapped power oozing from the earth itself. Or something like that.

  Anyway, it was a pool of untapped power that could be formed and created into whatever the Maker needed to, well… make.

  Sounds pretty damn cool, right?

  Well, there was a catch, as I was only recently discovering. Although the power could be technically used for whatever the Maker wanted, each Maker was different. Different strengths. Different inherent skills or affinities. Mine seemed to be fire, water, and some form of purple energy that was like a freezing bolt of lightning. I wasn’t sure exactly what it was, but it was hell on wheels for destruction.

  Let’s say that I wanted to do something with metal, or earth, or wood, or air. Well, I was finding myself grossly inefficient to say the least. I hadn’t shared this with anyone, as I really had no one to share it with. No one to relate to.

  Taking this into consideration, once I found a way to do something, I could still do practically everything I could as a wizard, I just had to take a different path. I had to learn new ways to manipulate this source of energy inside me. But it was exhausting. And required extreme strength of will. Actually, will was pretty much the best way to describe my power. I could make reality different. Quite literally. Once mastered, anyway.