Homecoming A Montague & Strong Detective Novel

by Orlando A. Sanchez

  Contents

  Title

  Quotation

  This one is for my Dad.

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  THIRTEEN

  FOURTEEN

  FIFTEEN

  SIXTEEN

  SEVENTEEN

  EIGHTEEN

  NINETEEN

  TWENTY

  TWENTY-ONE

  TWENTY-TWO

  TWENTY-THREE

  TWENTY-FOUR

  TWENTY-FIVE

  TWENTY-SIX

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  TWENTY-NINE

  THIRTY

  THIRTY-ONE

  THIRTY-TWO

  THIRTY-THREE

  THIRTY-FOUR

  THIRTY-FIVE

  THIRTY-SIX

  THIRTY-SEVEN

  Cast

  ORGANIZATIONS

  AUTHOR NOTES

  Contact me:

  Still here? Amazing! Well, if you’ve made it this ...

  Dragons and Demigods

  ONE

  Thank you for reading

  Acknowledgments

  ART Shredders

  About the Author

  Copyright

  Homecoming

  By

  Orlando A. Sanchez

  A Montague & Strong Detective Novel

  Home is that sigh for a color of sky and a will to return. Robert A. Heinlein

  This one is for my Dad.

  I lost you a long time ago and my memories, vague as they are always place you as larger than life in my mind’s eye. I wish you could have been here to see us all grow up, to handle all of your grandkids and see your legacy.

  I still remember your smile, your laugh, and your enormous hands when you would lift me up to stand on your shoulders. Every time you placed me there I felt like a giant.

  I like to think I’m still standing there now, making you proud.

  ONE

  “IGNISCORUSCANTI,” I WHISPERED, forming an orb of violet energy. It was about the size of a grapefruit and it hovered in my palm. I felt the energy race up my arm and suffuse my body with warmth. I held it in front of me, and Peaches shifted mid-sprawl to look up at me.

 

  “This is an incantation orb,” I answered, keeping my focus on the sphere of magical energy in my hand.

  Peaches turned away, disinterested, and chuffed. I focused on the orb, trying to channel more energy into it. I saw it start to expand, but then it rapidly collapsed to the size of a grape.

  “Shit.”

  It floated out of my palm and onto the floor. Peaches turned again, lifted one massive paw, crushed it and snapped it up in one gulp.

 

  I felt a surge of energy and a rift opened behind us. I looked back as Monty stepped through.

  “That’s a new look for you.” I noticed the missing jacket and rips along the sleeves of his shirt. His pants didn’t look much better, being torn in several places as well. “What’s this called—‘mangled mage’?”

  “This used to be a Zegna Bespoke.” Monty pointed to his clothes with an irritated look. “I need a cuppa.”

  “How’d it go?”

  “Tea.” He held up a hand, walked into the kitchen, and put the kettle on. “Redrum was being modified and the homeless were being forced to take it against their will.”

  “Shit, that sounds bad,” I said, joining him in the kitchen. “Do we need to mobilize?”

  “No need,” he answered. “It’s mostly contained. I think Stryder will pursue this to its resolution.”

  “How was the Redrum modified?”

  Monty took the whistling kettle off the stove and poured the water into a cup. “Someone managed to introduce an ultraviolet resistance into the composition of the blood, altering it to allow rummers to traverse during the day.”

  “UV-resistant rummers?”

  “Precisely.” He took a sip of his Earl Grey. “It gets worse, Simon.”

  “What could possibly be worse than rummers out during the day?”

  “Hades gave Kokutan no ken to Grey Stryder.”

  “What? What the hell is a Grey Stryder, some kind of sneaker?” I asked.

  Monty gave me the ‘are you truly this clueless’ look. “Grey Stryder is a Night Warden.”

  “So let’s ask Mr. Grey Sneaker for the sword before the Dark Council decides to shred each other.”

  “Stryder has bonded to the sword by now, if he isn’t dead.”

  “Why does that sound much worse than sparkly rummers?” I asked. “Is this Stryder going to be a problem?”

  “He’s one of the last—if not the last—Night Wardens,” Monty replied. “He’s difficult but governed by a sense of justice and a rigid moral code.”

  “Aren’t the Night Wardens mages?” I asked. “How did he manage the bond without being erased?”

  Monty put the cup down and rubbed his chin in thought.

  “An entropic dissolution,” he answered, as if I knew what he meant. “Made him the perfect vessel. Who knew?”

  “Not me. Did you ask his godness, Hades, why he gave away the sword that can keep the Dark Council from tearing itself apart?”

  Monty shook his head. “Hades is playing a long-game here, but I don’t know what it is, and I can’t see why he would make this move. Code or no code, Stryder is a serious threat.”

  “Do we postpone the homecoming?”

  Monty looked up at me. “No. I need to get back to the Sanctuary before Oliver sends more Ghosts to convince me that death is a good idea.”

  “And this Oliver is a fan because…?”

  “I don’t know.” He looked down at his ruined clothes. “I need to change. Have you heard from my uncle?”

  “Not since London. Are you opening a rift to the Sanctuary, or do we need to do the digestive destruction of a teleportation circle?”

  “Neither. The Sanctuary has defensive measures in place to prevent direct teleportation,” Monty said. “There is a hundred-square-mile magical dead zone around it.”

  “What are we going to do?” I asked. “Walk up to the front door and knock? ‘Hello? We’re here to storm the castle!’”

  “There’s an airport ten miles from the Sanctuary portal.” Monty headed to the back rooms. “We’re flying there.”

  “Flying? As in a plane?”

  “Have you achieved the power of autonomous flight?”

  “Not lately, even though it felt like that in London.”

  “Then we’re flying—in a plane.”

  A crashing sound came from Dex’s room, followed by a bright green flash that spilled out from beneath the door. Peaches immediately stood and padded over, waiting. Dex stepped out and stumbled a few steps into the office.

  “Ach, that Morrigan is one fiery woman!” he shouted. “Barely escaped with my loins intact.”

  He gave me a wide grin and slapped me on the back.

  “Glad to hear you and the Morrigan are doing so well, I think?”

  “Good to see you, boy. Where’s my ever-pleasant nephew?”

  Dex gestured and materialized two large sausages for Peaches, who proceeded to happily inhale them.

 

  “At least say thank you,” I muttered under my breath and shook my head. �
��You massive black hole.”

  Peaches stepped close to Dex and nudged him with his head, slamming him into the wall. Dex bounced off the wall, rubbing his abdomen.

  “Ach, that’s a good hellhound.” He patted Peaches’ head with a chuckle. “Now, where’s Tristan?”

  “Getting dressed.” I pointed to the back room. “He had a run-in with some rummers.”

  “Nasty business, that,” Dex said, pushing my head down as a huge raven soared into the room. “Careful, you daft bird! Apologies.”

  Herk, Dex’s raven companion, perched on top of one of the chairs in the reception area. It fixed me with its glowing green eyes for a few seconds before closing them and dozing off. Monty returned in another suit and picked up his cup.

  “Much better.” Monty pulled on the sleeves of his new jacket.

  Dex grew serious. “Are you sure you won’t reconsider?”

  “And wait for another Ghost tribus to pay me a visit?” Monty asked. “No, if Oliver wants to kill me, he’s going to have to do it himself.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of,” Dex answered. “At least let’s get help.”

  “Whom do you propose?” Monty asked, wary. “None of your ‘acquaintances’ from the old country, thank you.”

  “LD Tush?” Dex asked, wincing.

  “You’re thinking of using the Ten?”

  “No. Just LD…and maybe TK?”

  “Are you mad?” Monty asked, shaking his head. “LD is the worst of the lot!”

  “He’s also the most dangerous and knows how to get in and out without getting us killed.” Dex held up his hands in mock surrender. “I’ll convince him to leave TK at the shop.”

  “Only if we want the Sanctuary standing when we’re through,” Monty shot back. “She’s twice as dangerous as he is.”

  “It’s decided, then!” Dex rubbed his hands. “I’ll pack some things and we’ll port over to the Tushes’.”

  Dex ran back into his room, leaving me completely confused.

  “Who or what is an LD or TK? The Ten what?”

  “The Tushes are, like my uncle, rogue mages that currently run an artifact business.” Monty shook his head. “They are presently the only direct competition to the Moving Market.”

  “And this Ten?”

  “During the war there was a covert group of renegade mages known as the Terrifying Ten. I don’t know how many of them are still alive, outside LD, TK, and one or two others crazy enough to befriend my uncle.”

  “I didn’t know the Moving Market had competition.”

  “Fordey Boutique is a very special kind of ‘store.’ The Market would never move against them,” Monty said. “They tried—once.”

  “What do they sell?” I asked. “Are they as large as the market?”

  “No, they would be considered a boutique shop selling a very specific commodity,” Monty said. “If the Moving Market is Selfridges, those two are Halimeh in Knightsbridge.”

  “And what do they sell?” I asked, concerned. “This sounds like a bad move.”

  “Death, destruction, devastation, and death,” Monty said with a sigh. “This is going to be a nightmare.”

  “You said death twice.”

  Monty took a long sip of his tea and stared at me.

  “I know.”

  TWO

  WE MOVED TO the conference room, and Monty gently placed a long, slender case, on the table.

  “How powerful is your father?” I asked, taking a seat.

  “What type of power do you mean? He wields considerable influence as one of the Elders. Or do you mean raw power as a mage?”

  “I mean mageosity, in relation to this Oliver person, who currently wants you erased and who managed to imprison your dad. How did that happen?”

  Monty grabbed a coaster and placed the teacup on the table, looked off into the distance. “I don’t know. My father is an Elder. Only Archmages are stronger than the Elders.”

  “So Oliver is an Archmage?”

  “Impossible.” Monty looked at me. “Oliver is powerful, but not that powerful.”

  “He’s stronger than you?”

  He sipped his tea again and stared past me. “Much stronger,” he said quietly over the rim of the teacup. “Oliver Rank is older than my father, and one of the strongest Elders in the Golden Circle.”

  Fear did a little shimmy up and down my spine. I clamped down on it before it became a full-blown dance party.

  “Can we send him a strongly-worded email? You know, 'no more mage hit-squads, and let my father go.’ That sort of thing?”

  He gave me a ‘you can’t possibly be that dense’ look and shook his head. “Unfortunately, no. This has to be resolved face to face.”

  “If this Oliver isn’t an Archmage, and he’s not much stronger than your dad…”

  “How did he manage to imprison him?” Monty finished.

  “Exactly. It means this Oliver has leverage on your dad somehow. It’s not you, since he’s trying to actively keep you away by introducing you to the dirtnap club. Do you have any other siblings besides William? Could he be using them? What about your mother?”

  Monty stiffened and looked away before speaking again.

  “It wouldn’t be William or my mother. We need to get on the grounds.”

  “How close is your dad to becoming an Archmage?”

  “My father is one of the oldest and strongest Elders, even older than Uncle Dex. If I had to guess, I’d say two to three shifts away from achieving Archmage.”

  I rubbed my chin in thought. My brain had a hard time trying to grasp that level of power.

  “When we visited, I noticed your dad wasn’t being mistreated. His quarters, while small by Elder standards, were still comfortable.”

  “Now that I recall, he was more concerned for my safety than his own,” Monty said. “He expressly warned me not to return. Why would he do that?”

  “Because he knows how well you follow instructions?”

  He gave me a quick glare and a scowl.

  “No, it was the way he said it—‘They can’t hurt me, but they will kill you’—that sticks in my memory.”

  I sensed Peaches padding into the conference room and camping under the table.

 

  “Is that all you think about? Do I look like a butcher?”

  Monty gave me a puzzled look. “Not particularly. Sorry?”

  I raised a hand and pointed down. “The black hole that is my hellhound would like more meat.”

  Monty raised an eyebrow as he opened the slender case, bathing the conference room in a deep violet light. “That is a surprise. I thought you had established a mental link with your creature. Or do you enjoy sounding deranged?”

  “Old habit. Give me a second. I need to sort out my hellhound.”

  “Take your time,” he said with a wave of his hand and focused on the case in front of him. He gestured, and a violet circle filled with runes materialized on the surface of the table. He produced a black cloth covered in symbols and placed it inside the circle.

  Slowly and methodically he began removing items from the case. He made sure none of them touched as he placed them gingerly on the cloth.

  Waves of runic energy washed over me as he arranged them on the table. They were black rectangular stones and looked like small blank dominos. I was getting a serious ‘these things are dangerous’ vibe from them.

  My attention was diverted by Peaches, who gave me a hungry chuff, followed by a whine.

 

 

  “Can we swing by Ezra’s on the way to get this LD and TK? What are those?”

  “I’m not handling the teleport to Fordey Boutique, but I’m sure Uncle Dex can make an ample supply of meat for your hellhound.”

  I nodded and pointed at the small black stones that were producing black wisps of energy now. “Runic dominos? Because t
hey feel like I should be running away screaming right now.”

  “Entropy stones,” he said and glanced up at me. “You can feel them?”

  I got up and took a step back, as the fear I’d clamped down on earlier began an Irish jig/salsa combo, accompanied by the little voice in my head advising me that Monty had lost his mind.

  “My stomach is doing the hustle, and every fight-or-flight response I have is firmly set on flight. Why are you handling entropy stones, and are they as dangerous as they sound?”

  “Fascinating,” he said, staring at me. “I’ve never heard of a non-mage reacting to these stones. It may have something to do with your learning the Incantation of Light.”

  “Wonderful, Mr. Spock. Why are you handling these things? For the record, the incantation doesn’t work for me, unless you count that dried-up raisin of power that appears as an orb.”

  “Entropy stones are non-volatile, unlike entropy rounds. I’m giving half of them to LD and TK to see if they can help your creature with his problem.”

  “His problem? What, that all he thinks about is food and eating?”

  “No, actually that’s normal for the species. That and apparently utter destruction and devastation. No, I’m referring to his size issue.”

  I looked under the table, stared at Peaches, and shook my head.

  “What size issue? He’s under the table.”

  “Don’t be daft, Simon,” he said with a glare. “I’m referring to his transformation into a planet-devouring creature.”

  “Oh.” I nodded slowly. “And entropy stones will do what? Shrink him? I thought the bond had to be broken for that to occur.”

  “LD and TK can use the stones to craft a collar for your creature that is attuned to your bond. You can control his transformation, if my theory is correct.”

  “And if it’s not?”

  “Then you unleash an unstoppable hellhound on the earth.”

  Dex walked into the room and glanced at the entropy stones. He whistled low and shook his head.

  “Are you planning on erasing the Sanctuary?” he asked and stared hard at Monty. “Entropy stones are a little much, don’t you think?”

  “These are what I call insurance,” Monty said, closing the case and leaving half the stones on the table. “Besides, these are for TK to form a collar for his hellhound,” he added, nodding in my direction.