Dark Glass: A Montague and Strong Detective Agency Novel

by Sanchez, Orlando A.

  “Displeased? Olga would crush us…well, you.”

  “More likely she would freeze us solid first…then crush us.”

  “Where then?”

  “Let’s use my uncle’s room,” Monty said, pointing down the corridor to Dex’s room. “That should suffice.”

  “Before we start my torture, can we feed the bottomless pit that is my hellhound?”

  Monty looked down at Peaches, who was giving him his best version of puppy dog eyes complete with a grin. With Peaches’ glowing red eyes and ginormous fangs, the effect was just this side of terrifying.

  “Is that supposed to be a smile?” Monty asked, still looking at Peaches.

  “Yes, it’s a work in progress,” I answered, glancing down at my hellhound. “Nice, huh?”

  “It’s about as endearing as a dragon’s snarl,” Monty said. “I’d advise against it.”

  Monty gestured, and several large links of sausage appeared before Peaches.

 

  Peaches proceeded to instantly hoover the meat into his never-ending belly. It took all of one second, possibly less.

 

 

  Peaches took a small breath and let out a controlled bark that shook the windows.

  “He says: ‘thank you’,” I said, wincing as I slowly shook my head. “That hurt.”

  “You may want to work on that too,” Monty said, rubbing an ear. “A nod would suffice.”

  “He’s still a puppy,” I said, rubbing Peaches’ massive head. “He’s a work in progress.”

  “Indeed,” Monty said as he picked up his cup and headed down the corridor. “I shudder to think about your creature as an adult.”

  “We’ll need a bigger space for him, I think.”

  “Of course, we’ll find something appropriate,” Monty said, stopping in front of Dex’s door. “Like a football stadium.”

  I looked at the door. It was covered with faintly glowing, green runes that pulsed to an unknown rhythm. Nothing about this door said ‘come in’. The impression it gave off was closer to ‘open me and get your ass blasted down the corridor’. I could almost hear Dex’s voice, followed by his laugh.

  “Why are the runes fading in and out?” I asked. “It’s like they’re drawing power from something.”

  “That’s different,” Monty answered, examining the runes. “I’ll have to look into that when I have more time.”

  “You do realize Dex’s room is still in The Moscow?” I asked. “This doesn’t count as extra-planar.”

  “Yes and no,” Monty answered, examining the runes on the door, and placing his cup on a small table near the door. “The door is somewhat in-between on this plane because of the symbols my uncle used.”

  “In between this plane and what?” I asked, looking warily at the door. “Those runes look painful.”

  “Because they are,” Monty said, touching several of the symbols in sequence. “If I get the sequence wrong—”

  “We get blasted down the corridor?”

  “Not exactly,” Monty said. “My uncle is a master at teleportation. These runes are designed to prevent anyone from breaking into his space. An incorrect sequence would instantly teleport the offender to some undisclosed locations.”

  “Locations?” I asked. “You mean it teleports the person to more than one more location, in sequence?”

  “Not exactly,” Monty said, focusing on the door. “It teleports the person to more than one location instantly—in pieces.”

  I backed up several feet from the door.

  “If you don’t mind, I’m going to stand over here.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” Monty said with a small shake of the head. “The area of effect on this casting is a particularly nasty piece of work—cunning, devious, and powerful—very much like my uncle. You could, in all likelihood, stand downstairs in the lobby and still be hit by it.”

  “Why would Dex cast something like that?”

  “Because he’s my uncle?”

  “That actually explains much of it,” I answered. “I mean, he is seeing the Morrigan. Dex must have the ultimate deathwish”—I held up my coffee mug—“see what I did there?”

  “Really?” Monty said with a small groan. “Maybe you should step back a little farther…like the Randy Rump?”

  “Maybe I can help,” I said. “I can almost make out some of the runes.”

  “Only if you want to hasten our demise.”

  “Let me know if you need assistance,” I said backing up farther, “those runes look tricky.”

  “Thank you. I’m going to need a bit of focus for this part, if you don’t mind,” Monty said, somewhat distracted as he began the sequence. “I’d hate to visit several dimensions at once. We need to go to a specific location for this test.”

  Monty began touching some of the symbols, relocating some and rotating others. I wouldn’t even know where to begin, much less know what sequence would take us to where we were going.

  “Looks complicated.”

  “Because it is,” Monty said without turning. “I’ve heard silence is instrumental in aiding focus, particularly when dealing with lethal runes.”

  “Good point,” I said, nodding and backing up even more. “Just in case, I’ll be over here.”

  “Mmhmm,” Monty answered, still touching symbols in sequence. “This should be the last symbol. We should arrive there at midday.”

  “Wouldn’t it be easier to get around a strange place under the cover of night?”

  “That would be logical except this location is extremely dangerous at night.”

  “Is it dangerous during the day?”

  “Yes, but decidedly less lethal than the night.”

  “Are you sure you got the sequence on those runes right?” I asked, looking at the softly glowing runes. “What happens if you get it wrong?”

  “If I’m wrong, we won’t be here to discuss it.”

  “My life is a never-ending adventure,” I grumbled. “No wonder I’m melting inside. It’s not runic anything. It’s probably just plain mage induced stress.”

  Monty pressed the last symbol, triggering a bright green, blinding flash. A moment later, the door clicked open.

  “Let’s go,” Monty said. “We want to make sure we maintain the integrity of the space behind this door. Leaving it open for too long is inviting disaster.”

  “Why?” I asked, reconsidering going into Dex’s room. “Where does it lead?”

  “You understand the concept of time and relative dimension in space?” Monty asked. “One of the concepts the Moving Market is based on?”

  “I understand that sometimes things are bigger on the inside than they appear on the outside.”

  “Then you know the answer to the question: ‘Where does it lead?’”

  “No, I don’t,” I said, frustrated. “That’s why I asked. Not that you didn’t make it sound incredibly inviting or anything. Where does this door lead?”

  He opened the door, and I saw a large green field. It looked like Central Park, but it wasn’t the Central Park I was familiar with. I didn’t remember the park having a real castle in it. I took one last sip of my Deathwish, realizing how appropriate the name seemed as I looked into the alternate Central Park.

  “It leads everywhere.”

  THREE

  “What is this place?” I asked, stepping past the threshold of the door and into the green field. “This looks like Central Park, except I don’t remember that building.”

  “Keep.”

  “I don’t want to,” I said, not understanding. “What do you want me to keep?”

  “That small fortress”—Monty pointed to the building in the distance—“is referred to as a Keep,” he clarified. “Not just ‘a building’, but a Keep. Specifically the Hunter’s Keep, in this case.”

  “Fine…a Keep,” I said
. “Why are we headed in that direction?”

  “We need to conduct this test inside its walls, and we need to do so before it gets dark. Don’t dally,” Monty said, walking towards the Hunter’s Keep. “I know it looks close, but distance in this place is not always something that can be measured. It’s…flexible.”

  “How can distance be flexible?” I asked. “A meter is a meter.”

  “Except when it isn’t.”

  “What are you talking about?” I asked. “That ‘Keep’ can’t be more than a kilometer away.”

  “Yes, and we need to get there immediately,” Monty said, his voice laced with urgency. “Let’s move.”

  Peaches unleashed a low growl next to me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  “According to my trusty hellhound smell detector, we are currently surrounded by nastiness,” I said, trying to keep the fear out of my voice. “Shadowhounds, to be precise.”

  “In this place, they are called Dreadwolves.”

  “You know about them?”

  “Professor Ziller has written an entire treatise on extra-planar creatures,” Monty answered. “It was required reading.”

  “Peaches says they’re bad news, as in, we should avoid them.”

  “Your creature is correct in his assessment,” Monty answered, without turning around. “We are in hostile territory. Make haste.”

  “Make haste? Who even says that anymore?”

  “I do. Now move.”

  “I can’t believe I’m suggesting this,” I said, keeping pace. “Why don’t we just teleport there?”

  “That would attract undue attention,” Monty said, walking fast. “The last thing we want in this place is attention. It would be best if we could enter and leave undetected…before nightfall.”

  “You mean, there’s something out there that’s worse than Dreadwolves?”

  “Much worse,” Monty said. “Using any ability would attract creatures I’d rather not face. Creatures that thrive on destruction and carnage.”

  “Oh, you mean the usual?”

  “These are particular to this plane, and unpleasant.”

  “And they like to come out after dark?” I asked, jokingly. “What are they…runic roaches?”

  “I believe my uncle called them ‘The Unholy’,” Monty answered. “In any case, I’m not eager to meet them. We need the Keep for its specific properties. We don’t need to get into a confrontation here.”

  “I’m all for getting in and leaving without a fight,” I said, looking around as we crossed the field. “This is Central Park.”

  “It’s very likely that it is,” Monty said. “Just not our Central Park.”

  “Our Central Park doesn’t have boogeymen when the sun goes down,” I said with a chuckle. “At least none that I know of.”

  “Precisely,” Monty snapped. “The things we don’t know, especially about this place, can end us. Move faster.”

  I had never seen Monty this nervous before. We had picked up the pace to a brisk jog, when I noticed that the sun was setting.

  “Monty?” I asked as the jog turned into a run. “The sun is going down. Why is the sun going down?”

  “Our relation to time in this plane is compressing…that’s inconvenient.”

  “You think?”

  “Bloody hell,” he said under his breath as he slowed. “We have company as well.”

  “Company? What kind of company? Dreadwolves?”

  “To start,” Monty said, gesturing as violet runes floated off into the air, “as well as something worse, and faster.”

  I drew Grim Whisper.

  “What is it?” I said, looking into the distance behind us. “Can we stop it?”

  “We aren’t stopping anything…keep going,” he said, stopping. “I’m going to slow down whatever may be after us.”

  “Wait, what?” I said, sliding to a halt. “What are you doing?”

  “Go!” he yelled. “There are wards around the Keep. Get inside the wards. I’m right behind you.”

  I took off again with Peaches by my side, feeling the distinct sensation of having something chasing me. Ahead, the Keep looked marginally closer.

  That’s when I heard the growls.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  The thought evaporated as Peaches blasted off ahead of me. Clearly I was holding him back. I pumped my legs harder as the sounds of snarling surrounded me. Up ahead, Peaches had come to a stop.

  In front of him stood the largest wolf I had ever seen. Peaches had taken a ‘shred and maim’ stance, but the only way he was going to intimidate this super wolf was to go XL.

  “I am Fang,” the large wolf said as he sniffed the air, surprising me because the voice wasn’t in my head. “Alpha of this pack. Who…are…you?”

  I noticed the sun was dipping below the horizon. It was getting darker by the second.

  “My name is Simon and that”—I pointed to Peaches—“is Peaches, my bondmate.”

  Fang narrowed his eyes. Apparently, everyone except me had gone to glare school. He stared at me for a few seconds.

  “Impossible. No creature of that power would bond with such a weakling,” Fang said. “It’s insulting.”

  “Listen, Cujo,” I started, “there’s no need to get snippy. We are just—”

  “Seeking safe passage to the Hunter’s Keep,” Monty said, coming up behind me. “Well met, Fang of the Dreadwolves.”

  “We shall see,” Fang said, looking at Monty and then back at me. “You have ventured into my territory without passage.”

  “We’re just passing through,” I said. “If we knew there was a toll—”

  “You are an insolent fool, to speak so,” Fang said with a low growl. “How did you bond to this creature?”

  “Simon,” Monty said under his breath, before I could answer. “Measure your words.”

  “I don’t know all of the details,” I said, placing a hand on Peaches’ head. “Probably because I’m awesome, and Peaches is a great judge of character.”

  “You named him…Peaches?” Fang asked, clearly upset. “He let you name him?”

  “He didn’t ‘let me’ do anything. He was named by a god,” I said. “It’s not like Fang is so original. What were the other choices? Mouse? Big Dog? Snarl?”

  “Fang, because I sink them into the necks of those who oppose me…before I kill them,” Fang answered with a snarl. “Tell me why I should let you live?”

  “We are only seeking passage into the Hunter’s Keep, and we mean you”—Monty glanced at me quickly—“no insult.”

  “You are not Hunters,” Fang said, turning back to Monty, apparently done with me. “What business do you have in the home of the Hunters…our enemies?”

  “I seek to spill no blood tonight,” Monty said, letting his tone become menacing. “But if I must, yours will be the first.”

  “What happened to mean no insult?” I said under my breath. “You just threatened to spill the angry super wolf’s blood? I’m really not in the mood to become dinner.”

  “It wasn’t a threat,” Monty said, staring at Fang. />
  Around us, several Dreadwolves had gathered. They looked eager to get started with their evening meal. I was guessing Monty would be the appetizer, since he only ate leaves. Peaches and I would be the main course. It wasn’t a pleasant thought.

  “Let me handle this,” Monty muttered. “Before it escalates.”

  “Oh, I get it,” I shot back under my breath. “This is diplomacy.”

  “We only seek peaceful passage,” Monty said, ignoring me, “but will resort to violence if needed.”

  “This is not a land of peace,” Fang said. “This is a land of death.”

  “Let’s not start the evening with yours.”

  “Bold words, little man,” Fang answered, with menace of his own. “On what name do you seek passage?”

  Peaches had backed up next to me, still ready to pounce into shredding action. Monty formed a white hot orb of flame. It was radiating enough heat that I needed to take a few steps away from him.

  “Overkill much?” I said, giving Monty space before I got a tan. “Do we plan on barbecuing them?”

  Monty ignored me.

  “I seek passage on the name of Tristan Montague, son of Connor Montague and nephew to Dexter Montague.”

  All of the Dreadwolves backed away, except Fang.

  “I do not know you,” Fang said, stepping forward with a low growl as I let my hand drift to the holster of Grim Whisper, “but the name of Dexter Montague is known to the pack. You may have safe passage to the Hunter’s Keep…for tonight.”

  “I will let him know of your respect,” Monty said.

  “Do not fool yourself, Montague,” Fang said. “We offer passage, but we do not respect you or your uncle.”

  If they didn’t respect Monty or Dex, the driving force had to be fear. I glanced at the white orb floating gently in Monty’s hand. Fear was a good choice.

  “We will make haste to conclude our affairs in the shortest time possible.”

  “You would do well to conduct your business and leave this place, young Montague,” Fang answered. “The Dreadwolves will honor the pact, but many of the Unholy in this land despise your name and your uncle.”

  “Understood,” Monty said with a small bow. “We will not delay. Run long and fast.”