I changed the magazine to entropy rounds. Somehow, the idea of persuader rounds being effective in this place seemed like a joke. Besides, if something was coming to tear me apart, the only persuading I wanted to do involved immediate disintegration…theirs, not mine.
“Can’t we just blast our way into the Keep? How strong is that door?”
Monty took a step back and assessed the door of the Keep.
“This door makes the doors at the Randy Rump appear inconsequential,” he said. “The stones of the Keep itself are vibrating with power. I’d judge blasting of any sort would be a futile exercise, unless we possessed the equivalent of a runic nuclear device. In which case, if we did detonate such a device, we’d be the first casualties.”
“Is that a no?”
“A profound one,” Monty said. “This is a base in enemy territory. At the very least, they would invest heavily in the security of the Keep, starting with the doors. If there is a material harder than runed Buloke Ironwood, this is it.”
“Okay then, no blasting,” I said going over options. “Can we teleport out of here?”
“If I’m not mistaken, we are currently trapped inside the ward circle,” Monty said, pointing at the ground. “The wards will prevent us from leaving the Keep, at least until the creatures of this place eliminate us.”
“Basically, we can check out anytime we like, but we can never leave?”
“These specific wards seem to inhibit egress of any kind,” Monty said, narrowing his eyes and looking at the ground, “with unpleasant side effects.”
“Including teleportation?”
“That is my working theory,” Monty said, tracing violet runes in the air. “The wards will prevent that particular casting…I think.”
“But you aren’t sure,” I said, looking down at the black and red runes. “Let’s find out.”
“Nothing is certain in this plane, except that we will have a violent confrontation shortly.”
“Maybe we can get out before then?” I asked. “I’m going to test your working theory.”
“Feel free,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m going to prepare for the impending conversation.”
“Somehow I don’t think Fang and his crew will want to discuss much this time around,” I said, walking over to the edge of the ward circle with Peaches by my side. “Especially after that whole ‘spill your blood’ comment. I’m sure he appreciated that.”
“The comment was necessary,” Monty said. “Dreadwolves can smell fear.”
“They must’ve smelled me from across the park,” I said, looking down at the runes. “These things look nasty by the way.”
Peaches nudged me in the leg, nearly launching me across the threshold of runes and dislocating my hip.
He sniffed the wards under us and chuffed.
He gave off a low whine and crouched down.
“Stop being so dramatic,” I said, stepping over the edge of the wards. “See it’s not so—”
A burning sensation raced up my leg followed by the extreme feeling of pins and needles, as if my foot had fallen asleep. The next moment, I was airborne and heading to the stone wall of the Keep at speed.
A blast of air deflected my trajectory, preventing my face from smashing into the stone. I bounced on the ground hard and rolled several feet, and coming to a stop some distance from the Keep.
“Satisfied?” Monty asked. “Or would you like to try again?”
Peaches padded over to where I lay, ready to unleash a slobber attack.
“I’m good,” I said, waving an arm and nudging him away. “Couldn’t you form a gentle cushion of air, instead of bouncing me like a handball all over the place?”
“I did,” Monty answered. “It seems that whatever is affecting you is also affecting any casting around you.”
“Are you sure it’s not this place?” I said, standing with a groan. “My everything hurts.”
“No, I’m not,” Monty answered. “Still in pain?”
“Yes,” I said, rubbing my elbow. “That wasn’t exactly my idea of a graceful landing, you know.”
“You’re not understanding. Are you still in pain?”
“I just answered you…yes. What—is my voice not carrying over to where you are?”
“I’m hearing you just fine,” Monty snapped. “I’m just wondering.”
“Wondering what?” I replied with the same snappish tone. “Am I not speaking proper English?”
“That’s a given,” Monty answered. “I’m wondering…shouldn’t your healing kick in after any damage?”
“Of course. Except—”
“It didn’t?”
“It didn’t,” I said, the realization slowly dawning on me. “The only time the pain lingers is when I meet with Karma. When I’m—”
“Mortal?”
“This is bad, Monty. I’m not in the mood to die in a fake Central Park today.”
“Or any other day, I would hope,” Monty said, dropping more violet runes around us. They floated gently for a second and then disappeared into the ground. “I’d advise extra caution in our upcoming confrontation.”
“Good advice,” I said, nodding. “These behemoths you mentioned earlier, do they look like ogres that’ve been turned into boulders, about ten feet tall and half as wide? Something like mountains of angry scariness?”
“I’d say that’s accurate,” Monty replied, pausing the rune creation. “Wait, you’ve never encountered a behemoth. Do you see one?”
“No.”
“Good, they are unpleasant, dangerous—”
“I see two,” I said, pointing to the other side of Keep. “They don’t look happy to see us.”
The behemoths were headed our way…fast.
SIX
“Which way?” Monty asked. “Where do you see them?”
“They’re just like ogres, right?”
The behemoths stood over ten feet tall, with hands the size of dinner plates. It was like looking at a mutant Ben Grimm come to life, except they weren’t orange and the only thing fantastic about these things was how fast they were moving.
“Wrong,” Monty said, creating more runes. “Behemoths are intelligent creatures of massive destruction. Ogres are mindless engines of destruction, following instinct. Behemoths are cognitively superior, despite their outward appearance. Do not let them fool you.”
“Their appearance tells me they’re here to welcome us to the park by ripping off an arm or two, then engaging in vigorous stomping.”
Monty stepped around the Keep to get a better look at the enormous creatures of impending death heading our way.
“That’s odd,” he said, peering into the night. “They usually run in large groups. Two seems like a feint. I thought there’d be more than that.”
I turned to stare at him.
“Don’t sound so disappointed,” I said. “I’m sure there’s more out there somewhere. Do you know how to stop them?”
“Aim high,” Monty said, reaching behind his back and drawing the Sorrows as they materialized in his hands. “The head.”
“Tell me you aren’t about to say what I think you’re about to say,” I groaned. “The head?”
&nbs
p; I holstered Grim Whisper.
“To paraphrase the inimitable Ramirez,” Monty said over the wailing of his swords. “If the head comes away from the neck, it's over.”
“You do know who he is!”
“I was talking about the head of the NYTF,” Monty answered. “Who are you referring to?”
“Never mind,” I said, knowing he would never admit he understood my reference. “This is like trying to ace the Kobayashi Maru. It’s a no-win scenario.”
“Then we need to change the rules of engagement,” he answered, swinging his swords once again. “Turn a no-win scenario into one we can win.”
“Have I ever told you how creepy those swords are?” I asked. “Why do they wail like that?”
“They’re named the Sorrows for a reason,” he said, letting energy flow into the blades. They gave off a blue glow as he extended his arms. “Rumor has it that each blade is forged with the life of a sylph.”
“What’s the Zillerplanation?”
“The energy channeled through the blade causes air to be displaced over the surface as it moves through space. This displacement produces an auditory effect. The sounds you hear as wails.”
Monty swung the blades in the air. Each practice cut he executed, sounded like the weeping of a young girl. Black runes covered the silver blades on both sides. The hilt was the figure of a young woman with her arms outstretched to the sides. When Monty extended the sword, the figure’s arms wrapped loosely around his wrist, forming a guard.
“Will they work against the boulders headed our way?” I asked, eyeing the behemoths closing in on us. “As in, can you stop them?”
“Only one way to find out,” he said, with a few more practice swings. “They are Seraphs after all.”
“‘Only one way to find out?’” I said, incredulously. “How about something a little more positive? You know, like: “‘These Seraphs will absolutely obliterate those behemoths, Simon.’”
“I don’t know if that’s true,” Monty answered. “Why would I make such an unproven claim?”
“Because it would make me feel better?”
“Ah, I see,” Monty replied. “Never fear, Simon. The Sorrows will be quite effective in delaying the behemoths from ripping your arms off for at least five to ten minutes. Better?”
“Not even close,” I said. “Your pep talks suck.”
“The Seraphs should be strong enough,” Monty added, “even in this plane.”
“Seraphs are for demons,” I said. “I don’t know what classification behemoths belong to, but I doubt it’s demons.”
“True,” Monty answered, “However the properties that make them Seraphs, imbue them with more power than any ordinary, or even runed, blade. I daresay we have the advantage, as long as we can avoid their fists.”
“Even with all of our blades, I think they may have the slight edge here.”
“Lack of immortality aside, you have your weapons. I’m a mage with considerable ability—even though said ability is questionable right now—and we have your creature that can certainly challenge them. The odds are about even.”
“Can you stop trying to cheer me up?”
“Was I successful?”
“Not in the slightest,” I said. “What’s the plan?”
“Don’t die.”
“Great plan. Not complicated at all.”
“Simple plans are the best plans.”
The behemoths had reached the edge of the wards and stopped. It looked like they were having second thoughts about crossing the threshold. Behind them, in the distance, I saw the first pack of Dreadwolves. This was getting worse by the second.
We were going to need some industrial-sized help.
“Why did they stop?” I asked under my breath, keeping my eyes on the two angry mountains. “They look confused.”
“They probably don’t realize the wards are down…yet,” Monty answered. “I’m sure that situation will be rectified shortly.”
I stepped away from Peaches as he bowed his head and growled. Monty glanced behind me and nodded.
“Battle mode?” he asked. “A good idea…considering.”
“He tried to negotiate for two bowls of meat…because, Frank.”
“Two bowls? You may need to place him on a diet of meat, and of Frank,” Monty said, looking back at my hellhound, “although I haven’t noticed any measurable difference in his weight.”
“Don’t encourage him,” I said. “He’s getting too heavy.”
A deep rumbling sound vibrated along the ground and in the pit of my stomach. The runes along Peaches’ flanks exploded with red energy as the air around him became charged with power.
“Perhaps a bit more space is required,” Monty said, stepping away. “He does get quite large.”
Peaches spread his forelegs, sinking several inches into the ground. He shook his body and barked, nearly bursting my eardrums in the process as his eyes gleamed red. My ears were still ringing as he grew, reaching battle-mode size.
The behemoths turned to look at the new Peaches XL and then back at me.
“What are you doing?” Monty asked as I approached the edge of the ward circle. “I don’t think they’ll be up for a chat that doesn’t involve grinding you to dust.”
The behemoths towered above me, looking down. I couldn’t make out their facial expressions. It would be like trying to figure out if a rock was smiling. What I could tell from their body language is that they wanted to share vast amounts of pain with me.
“You always say we should try diplomacy,” I said, keeping out of arms reach. “I’m going to convince them to go home.”
“Are you now?” Monty asked. “How do you intend to do that?”
“Tactful negotiation…watch.”
Monty said they were intelligent. I was about to find out just how intelligent they were.
“You two should head back where you came from,” I said, letting the silver mist of Ebonsoul coalesce into the blade in my hand. “We don’t want any trouble, and I would hate to have to kill you.”
“You have some power,” Boulder One said on the right. “It won’t be enough to keep you alive. Cross the threshold. We will end you quickly.”
“You?” Boulder Two said, with what I can only imagine was a laugh, but sounded closer to gravel being crushed. “Kill us? With what? That little knife?”
I nodded.
“With my little knife, the angry mage, and my very large bondmate back there,” I hooked a thumb behind me, pointing at Peaches. “He would love to chew on you, even though you probably taste horrible.”
“Your bondmate and your wizard matter little,” Boulder One said, slowly stepping backward from the edge of the ward circle. “You have entered our land and you will die.”
I stepped back to where
Monty stood bristling.
“Did he just call me a wizard?” Monty asked.
“Caught that, did you?” I said. “To be honest, it’s a little hard to tell all you magic types apart.”
“I am not a wizard.”
“One sec,” I said, raising a finger, “before you start the magerant.”
I was mid-thought when Peaches bounded towards the incoming behemoth. The ground shook with each step he took. Peaches met Boulder One at the edge of the ward circle headfirst and launched him back several hundred feet…well most of him. Parts of the behemoth flew off in several directions at once from the impact.
Boulder Two turned on Peaches, swinging a fist at my hellhound.
“Monty, ears!”
Monty reabsorbed the Sorrows and gestured in one smooth motion as Peaches backed up, inhaled and barked. A sphere formed around Monty and me as Boulder Two received the full brunt of the barkwave. I noticed Peaches had stepped outside the ward circle, without being launched back towards the Keep.
Even with the sphere of silence around us, I could feel the vibration of his bark tremble the ground beneath us. Boulder Two never stood a chance. The bark punched into and through the behemoth with extreme force, blasting it to rubble.
“I don’t remember your creature being this powerful,” Monty said, dropping the sphere. “It would seem that whatever is affecting you has influenced his power level as well.”
Dark Glass: A Montague and Strong Detective Agency Novel Page 4
