The House of Grey- Volume 6

by Earl, Collin

  Casey’s voice carried from a distance. “I figured we’d find you here.”

  Casey and Artorius walked up to Monson, who was standing over a giant hole on the Coren University football field. He was staring down into it, his back to them.

  “You know me better than you should.” Monson’s voice was heavy, almost hoarse.

  Artorius was about to put a hand on his shoulder, then thought better of it. “Dude, you just woke up. You shouldn’t be out—”

  “How long have I been under?”

  Casey tried to answer. “Dude, seriously.”

  “HOW LONG, CASEY?”

  Monson’s yell sent a pulse of energy like a shock wave through the area. His voice sounded spooky, like someone else was speaking at the same time.

  “About two weeks.”

  “I see.” Monson’s voice sounded normal, even calm, when he next spoke. “And Cyann?”

  Casey sighed. “She’s dead. I’m so sorry, Monson.”

  “Who killed her?”

  “You don’t remember?”

  “No.”

  Casey and Artorius exchanged looks. “Gibson. A spell. She didn’t stand a chance.”

  “What happened after?”

  “You…you lost control and killed Gibson.”

  Silence. Overwhelming silence.

  All Monson said was, “I see.”

  He turned to face them, and his friends tried to keep their expressions blank . The web of scars on Monson’s face were lighting up like a molten silver Christmas tree.

  Artorius was less successful than Casey at hiding his surprise. “Dude, you look like a spider that specializes in metallurgy pooped on your face.”

  Casey laughed. He could not help it. Not surprisingly, Monson did not join in.

  Artorius and Casey sobered quickly. Casey raised an imploring hand. “Dude, I know you’re upset, but—”

  “I’m leaving.”

  Casey paused. Artorius’ breath caught in his throat. Someone else asked the question.

  “Where do you intend to go?” Mr. Gatt and Brian walked with matching strides up to Monson, followed closely by Kylie, Taris, Indigo and Marie. Mr. Gatt repeated his question. “Where do you intend to go?”

  “The Baroty Conglomerate headquarters.”

  “Why?” asked Brian. “What could you possibly accomplish there?”

  “Gibson–I should be able to find out something about Gibson.”

  Taris stepped forward. “Aaron Gibson is dead, Monson. You killed…him—with your own hands.”

  “I know.”

  “Then why?”

  Monson’s voice reflected his anger. “Because there was someone else behind it.”

  Artorius finally found his words. “Behind what, Monson?”

  “What do you think, Arthur?” snapped Monson. “All of this. Gibson referred to a ‘master.’ I’m going to the headquarters to try to find out something that will lead me to this master.”

  “Monson…,” Mr. Gatt broke in, “we can’t allow you to do that. The Emporiume has summoned you. It is time that we—”

  “I don’t care if God himself summoned me. I’m going to—”

  “Monson, peace,” said Mr. Gatt, raising his hand. “Your desires and our mission happen to coincide.”

  Monson looked at Mr. Gatt suspiciously, his expression the first sign that the Monson they knew and loved was in there. So far it had just been angry Monson.

  Mr. Gatt correctly read his expression. “I assure you, I am not lying. You want to know who caused all the destruction and the death of Cyann, correct?”

  Monson nodded.

  Mr. Gatt smiled while Brian answered solemnly. “Do you really think that Gibson’s master is going to be here? There are only a handful of Magi in this world, and no known members of the Brotherhood.”

  Monson’s expression didn’t change.

  “Gibson was an agent of the Brotherhood. There was no other reason for him to involve himself with you. As a member of the Brotherhood, the only way to find information on who you are looking for is in the intelligence archives of the Capital. The Emporiume has summoned you, and if you do not respond, they will come after you and force you to appear before them. However, if revenge is what you seek, then come with us and allow our resources to do the work for you. We will find this master of Aaron Gibson and together we’ll make him pay.

  If Monson was surprised, he didn’t show it. He walked back to the group. “Then we’ll leave within the week for wherever it is you want us to go. I need to deal with Molly’s services first.”

  Monson walked off without looking back.

  Casey and Artorius looked at each other before calling to him. “Monson!”

  He didn’t answer them.

  It was Mr. Gatt and Brian’s turn to look at one another. Mr. Gatt sighed. “So it begins?”

  Casey turned to face Mr. Gatt. “So it begins? Seriously?”

  Mr. Gatt threw up his hands in a gesture of exasperation. “What?”

  Casey rolled his eyes and nodded at Artorius to follow. They ran towards Monson, trying to catch up with him.

  ***

  It was cold for summer night—or morning, depending on how you read the time. While technically morning Monson had not slept, so it was still nighttime to him. Regardless , it was cold, not at all what Monson considered to be Coren summer weather. Then again, his memories of his early days at the school were hazy at best. The limousine was right on time; not that Monson had expected otherwise. This was a driver Molly had handpicked for him back in January…January…it seemed like such a long time ago.

  The silver-haired gentleman was exactly what a driver for one of the richest–if not the richest—person in the world should look like, well groomed and regal. He had a sort of soothing quality about him, strong and steadfast. He actually reminded Monson of his grandfather, his real grandfather—not the fake Baroty version. This was perhaps why Molly had picked this particular driver. Molly…taking care of him even beyond the grave.

  Monson scowled. She shouldn’t be in the grave at all. His mind wandered to Baroty…Gibson….

  He calmed himself. There wasn’t anything to do about it right now. It would have to wait. Just for the time being.

  He watched as the driver pulled up to the curb of the guest parking lot, into a stall just two from where Molly had dropped him off almost a year ago. The driver hopped out of the car as soon as it came to a stop.

  Monson waved off the driver’s attempt to open his door. He did not want to be coddled. He was perfectly capable of opening his own freaking door. “Trying to run away, are we?”

  Monson recognized the voice. Casey stepped out from the shadows of a brilliantly burning lamppost.

  Monson didn’t answer or turn around, but reached for the door handle, when a shuffling from behind him flipped his fight-or-flight response into overdrive. He jumped back just as Casey slammed a foot into the handle of Monson’s car, so hard it crushed most of the door. Red Kei, which blinked into and out of existence, dissipated from around Casey’s feet and ankles. Monson sighed heavily as his driver shifted uncomfortably apparently unsure what to do.

  “OK everyone, let’s all calm down.” Artorius neared Casey and Monson, who were staring angrily at each other.

  “You just broke my freaking car, Casey!” yelled Monson.

  “Stop crying about it, rich boy, you can afford a thousand—no, a million stretch limos.”

  “Rich boy? That’s the dumbest insult on the planet! You’re flipping rich, too!”

  “Yes, I am rich, which is why you don’t see me freaking out over a car door!”

  Monson and Casey walked right up to each other. Monson didn’t know why he was so angry, but he was unable to help himself. He wanted nothing more than to punch Casey in his smug face.

  Artorius stepped between them and did the most unexpected of things. He put his hands in the air and yelled at the top of his lungs, “I AM A HUNKY MONKEY FROM FUNKY TOWN!”


  And he ran—ran around the parking lot acting like a monkey.

  Monson and Casey looked each other, looked at Artorius, and then back at each other.

  They laughed. They laughed in a way that they hadn’t thought was possible anymore. They laughed until all three of them were on the ground breathing heavily.

  “Grey, has that stick been effectively removed from your butt?” asked Casey, panting and leaning against the car and Monson’s shoulder.

  “You owe me a new door, Case. Totally unnecessary.”

  Artorius chimed in. “Grey, where are you going in the middle of the night?”

  “Actually…technically, it’s morning.”

  “Dude, seriously. What are you doing?”

  Monson took a deep breath. “I’m going home. I need to get ready for this meeting with the Magi people that Mr. Gatt and Brian want me to go see. I cannot do that here.”

  Casey sounded unconvinced. “What’s at home that you can’t do here? It’s not like you need to pack a suitcase. Also, we know you guys aren’t leaving for another couple of weeks. Brian and Mr. Gatt have kept us informed, even if you haven’t.

  “We know all about the Blood Fellowship, the Being of Seven Bloods, and Sariah of the Shining, Monson. We know that the Emporiume has called you to their Capital, and Mr. Gatt and Brian are going to present you to the Magi Brethren. So what are you really up to?”

  Monson hesitated, but decided to answer. He was a terrible liar, and they were going to pester him until he told them the truth. “I was going to go and see Cyann’s parents before we left.”

  Casey and Artorius stood up. “See now, was that so hard? Well…it’s about that time then.”

  Both boys moved just beyond the light of the lamppost and retrieved their suitcases. They smiled as they returned to Monson’s side.

  ‘What do you two think you’re doing?” he asked incredulously.

  Casey cocked the eyebrow. “Did those two weeks out cold completely addle your brain? We’re coming with you. We aren’t letting you out of our sight again.”

  “Absolutely not. You’re not now, not ever—”

  “You can go ahead and get that stupid little thought out of your head,” said Casey. “First, we aren’t asking your permission. And second, we know everything. We’re coming not only because it’s preordained, but also because you need someone to watch your back.”

  “Guys, you don’t get it. Brian, Mr. Gatt and I will be leaving—”

  “Earth? Yeah, we know,” replied Artorius. He paused. “Now that’s weird to say, isn’t it?”

  Casey rolled his eyes. “Grey, we’re coming if I have to rent a helicopter and follow you from now until the end of days.”

  “You guys aren’t com—”

  “Master Grey.”

  The three boys turned to Monson’s driver. “I hate to interrupt, but if we do not leave now, we will miss your flight.”

  Monson tried to grasp the door handle, forgetting that Casey had smashed it in. His two friends were bunching in front of him, obviously trying to prevent Monson from leaving them behind. Monson resigned himself to the situation.

  “Fine, but this conversation isn’t over.”

  Casey and Artorius smiled and made their way around to the other side of the car…the side that wasn’t crushed.

  Monson sighed and climbed in after his friends.

  Epilogue – Two Weeks Prior

  Bob the cat sat regally on a bleacher in the top tier of the Coren University Battlefield, staring down in apparent boredom. Most cats were skittish around loud noises and giant monsters, but these did not bother Bob. It was true that he was unlike most cats. It was because he was not like other cats that he did not jump and run away when a crackling golden fire lit up right beside him.

  “Report,” commanded a voice that echoed and oozed with power.

  Bob bowed low, as low as his feline frame would allow.

  “It is good to see you, my lord. I was under the impression that this realm was out of your reach.”

  “No realm is out of my reach given enough time and preparation, but enough idle talk. Is it true? Is he here?”

  “Yes, I am afraid so.”

  “What have you found?”

  “He is strong. much stronger than his eventuality dictated.”

  “You’re sure? Does he bear the mark?”

  “Yes, my lord, he bears the mark clear as the noonday sun.”

  “And what of the Insightful?”

  “Dealt with according to thy specifications, my lord. Three moons mark the arrival. ”

  “Excellent.”

  “What will thou do, my lord? his appearance is most unexpected, especially now that the Insightful has been located.”

  “Unexpected? Unexpected does not even begin to describe it. Despite all my plans, my precautions, my—no matter. Not all is lost; I may be able to use this to my advantage.”

  The golden flame flicked momentarily until at once it stretched skyward.

  “Sage, come closer.”

  The cat inched closer to the flames and dipped even lower. “What is thy bidding, my lord?”

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  Connect with the author on twitter @collinearl and facebook.com/author.CollinEarl