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White Mountain Rising (Veil Knights Book 7)

Page 16

by Rowan Casey


  “Get up and strip,” Daniel commanded.

  The dwarf blinked once then rose and did as he was commanded. Hannah didn’t look in their direction but instead went for the fallen sword and held it in her hand. It felt wrong and she didn’t like it, but she liked being unarmed even less.

  “Now you will go to the guard’s station and sit,” he told the dwarf. “Hannah, grab his chain.”

  In short order, the dwarf was bound to the chair at the guard station, its banks of television monitors flickered and revealed no one coming. Hannah made sure the ankles and wrists were together and they were fixed to the back to the chair. It took everything to avoid looking anywhere near the naked dwarf’s midsection. Daniel had seen enough horrors.

  With the dwarf secure, Daniel looked down at the defeated thing. “I’d send you home if I could. But that’s not our job. You’re resourceful, so I think you’ll be just fine.”

  The teens left the silent dwarf and went out the service door they had spotted through the back of the building, which led them out away from the crowds. They dropped the axe and sword in the adjacent dumpster, neither one wishing to be found with such weapons. With their backpacks and the horn, they walked away from the White Mountain.

  “You know,” Hannah started, “the dwarf and Mordred are not vanquished. Isn’t that what we knights do, vanquish evil?”

  “Yes, in simpler times,” he said, sounding very serious. He was sore and weary and hungry. “These are anything but simpler times.”

  “What now?”

  Her phone, which she was certain was turned off, rang. She grabbed it from within a zippered pocket, studied the screen with a frown and answered it using the speaker function.

  “Well done,” Grimm said.

  “How’d you know,” she demanded.

  “I know and that’s enough,” he said. His mysterious way, which fascinated Daniel a week earlier, was now just annoying.

  “What happens now?” he demanded to know.

  “Go to the Bronx,” Grimm commanded and he provided them an address for a youth hostel. “Tomorrow, you’ll go to LaGuardia Airport before noon and find tickets waiting for you at the United kiosk. You will bring the Horn to me at Avalon. I’ll text the details.”

  “Merlin texts?”

  “Merlin does what he has to,” was the flat reply.

  “Before you hang up in a puff of smoke,” she said quickly, “what happens to us next? We have no home. School starts in like a week. We have nothing.”

  “You will come to Avalon, help me complete this assignment and when it’s all over, we can discuss your options, Hannah. Trust me, you and Daniel have more opportunities than you realize.” He cut the connection and the phone was once more powered off.

  “Damn,” she said.

  “The subway’s this way,” Daniel said and gestured east. “We’ll get some food and find the hostel. I don’t know about you, but I need a shower and a day of sleep.”

  They walked for a block in silence and Daniel tried not to think about what they had endured. Instead, he let the sun’s fading warmth wash over him, appreciating the peaceful moment. They actually found the Horn of Brân Galed and were bringing it to Merlin. The Merlin. Their part was done, or so he thought. Clearly, Merlin had other ideas and that felt unsettling. He’d found new wells of strength and skill in addition to the sight. He knew his life would never be the same again. He, Hannah, and the other knights had things to do and there was a small, growing part of him that was excited at the notion. Another, more rational part, worried about money and shelter and a future when being a knight wouldn’t cover the rent. They’d be forgoing their high school diplomas and that kind of sucked. He knew how important that would be for their futures.

  Then again, he considered as they boarded the subway, if he and the knights failed to reinforce the Veil, then limited job prospects would be the least of his worries. Taking seats, they practically collapsed, amazed to be sitting still.

  “The Dvergr followed our blood more than once, can’t he still trace us?” she asked.

  “If Mordred hasn’t found and killed him, sure, but it’ll take him time and that gives us the advantage.”

  “Is this our new life, always having to look over our shoulders?”

  Daniel put a comforting arm around her, careful not to touch her wounded arm. It was the closest they had gotten to one another and she leaned into him, resting against his taller form. He was warm and comforting and all she needed that moment.

  “Once we give the Horn to Merlin and Marilyn, we can step back. It will also mean the others will be on hand. The Dvergr wouldn’t stand a chance against Fury or Jessie.”

  She chuckled at that and closed her eyes.

  There was a screech of brakes being released as the subway leapt into motion and as the station faded and the tunnel swallowed them up, he thought for just a moment he saw ghouls and demons reflected in the glass. He shuddered and held the velvet bag containing the powerful artifact closer to his heart.

  And for the first time in his life, Daniel prayed for salvation.

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  The Veil Knights Series

  The Circle Gathers (Book 1)

  The Questing Beast (Book 2)

  Hound of Night (Book 3)

  Run of Luck (Book 4)

  Cloak of Fury (Book 5)

  The Medusa Gambit (Book 6)

  White Mountain Rising (Book 7)

  About the Author

  Rowan Casey is the pseudonym for twelve New York Times, USA Today and Amazon bestselling writers who have come together to create the Veil Knights shared-world experience.

  With more than ten million copies of their books in print around the world, they include Lilith Saintcrow, CJ Lyons, Joseph Nassise, Steven Savile, Annie Bellet, Jon F. Merz, Pippa DaCosta, Robert Greenberger, William Meikle, Steve Lockley, Hank Schwaeble, and Nathan Meyer.

  For more information, visit

  www.rowancasey.com

  rowan@rowancasey.com

  Copyright Information

  White Mountain Rising

  Copyright 2017 by Rowan Casey

  With special thanks to Robert Greenberger

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author.

 

 

 


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