The Golem: A Montague & Strong Detective Novel (Montague & Strong Case Files Book 10)

by Orlando A. Sanchez

  “Does it have any ranged attacks?” I asked. “I’m not looking to get barbecued by this thing with some flame breath.”

  “Golems aren’t dragons, Simon,” Monty answered. “I’m certain we—”

  “Don’t get close to it if you’re a mage,” Ziller said, glancing at Monty. “It actively seeks out mage life-force. Oh, and one more thing, the mage wearing the Earth’s Breath has heightened control of his chosen elemental discipline—usually earth.”

  “How powerful do they become?” I asked, dreading the answer. “Are we talking Super Saiyan God here?”

  “I’m not entirely familiar with the term Super Saiyan,”—Ziller glanced the question at Monty, who shook his head with a sigh—“but this Toson should be about a shift or two away from an Archmage,” he continued, returning the cup to a table and opening the door to the closet. “If at all possible, engage from range and use stealth tactics. If you can remove the mage’s eyes—you might stand a chance.”

  “Thank you for your assistance,” Monty said. “It’s been quite…illuminating.”

  “My pleasure,” Ziller answered. “Thank you for the tea.”

  He stepped into the closet, closing the door behind him. The edges blazed with light again, followed by less shuddering. When I opened the door, it was our closet again.

  “Did he really just say ‘remove his eyes’ and we can stand a chance?” I asked, closing the closet door. “The Professor is a little dark these days. Don’t you think?”

  “He’s always been that way,” Monty answered. “Super Saiyan God? Really?”

  “Just trying to wrap my non-mage melted brain around this situation.”

  “By using obscure manga references?”

  “Goku is not obscure,” I said, defensively. “If he were here, he would fight the golem, get his ass kicked, go into training, come back stronger, and then kick the golem’s ass. This would be followed by more training so he could face the ‘one shift away from an Archmage’ Toson.”

  “Maybe this Goku can join Bangers and Mash, and together they can stop this threat from destroying our city?” Monty asked. “Perhaps together they can form a new Ginsu Force?”

  “You do know Goku is a fictional character, right? And it’s Ginyu, not Ginsu. This isn’t a group of kitchen knives, it’s a—”

  I stopped at his expression.

  “Please, do go on,” Monty said, after sipping more tea. “You were expounding on the complexities of fictional manga characters and their relationship to… cutlery?”

  “Maybe I do need to get out more.”

  “You are incorrigible,” Monty said, nodding. “At least the Professor shed some light on the attacks on the city. Toson is fueling his army.”

  “What’s the plan?” I asked, opening and closing the closet door a few more times just to make sure Ziller was really gone. “Toson is a hard target.”

  “We need to stop a golem army from forming.”

  NINETEEN

  “Can we really take on a golem?” I asked. “I mean, I know you’re strong, but are you golem-stomping strong?”

  “Toson’s too strong, and I suspect the Earth’s Breath is feeding off of him even as it supplies him with power,” Monty said. “The only course of action is to stop the golem and send the artifact into dormancy. Then, we can confront Toson. Did you get the list of destroyed properties?”

  I checked my computer and pulled up the email Angel sent. It was a list with a corresponding map of the locations targeted by the golem. I handed the printed version to Monty, who began examining the document.

  “How about we help accelerate Jen’s shift,” I started. “Then, she can go out and crush Toson all on her own? Case closed.”

  “There are no shortcuts to a shift…wait a minute,” Monty said, looking up from the paper he held. “You may have given us another option.”

  “I know,” I said. “Jen, shift, and crush. We avoid angry, dangerous stone man and psycho mage. Then, we go somewhere warm for vacay? I’m sure Roxanne would love to get away.”

  “There will be no ‘vacay’,” Monty said, waving my words away. “As for speeding up the Elder’s shift, that’s preposterous. We can’t accelerate a shift.”

  “How about nudging it just a bit?”

  “Even attempting to do so can have catastrophic results. Imagine Cecelia’s powers out of control, only to the power of ten.”

  “Okay, I’m going to go with no on the shift acceleration for two hundred, Alex.”

  “However…The runes on the Earth’s Breath, I recognized them. There may be a way to short circuit the artifact into dormancy, but it will be risky.”

  “Oh, that’s a surprise,” I said, completely not surprised. “That sounds great, if I understood what it was you were talking about. What do we need to do?”

  “We need to go see a certain Jotnar ice mage child with a penchant for runic shortcuts.”

  “Hopefully we can do this without the deep freeze?” I asked. “I’ve really had enough ice to last me several lifetimes.”

  “After that,” he said, looking down at the paper again, before putting it in an inner pocket, “we need to go visit Ursula. If anyone knows why these specific hubs are being attacked, she would.”

  “Maybe she’s run into the golem?” I asked. “Her hammer looks made for golem crushing.”

  “I sincerely hope she hasn’t,” Monty said, seriously. “She’s a null and may be safe from the siphoning and the Earth’s Breath, but she’s not immune from a stone fist crushing her to death.”

  “It’s great to see your cheery optimistic side come out in these situations.”

  Monty grabbed his cup and headed for the door.

  “I’m a mage,” Monty said, opening the door. “We don’t have a cheery optimistic side. Let’s go.”

  I was about to leave Peaches, the Sprawl Master, on the sofa when he appeared next to me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  For a brief second he looked dejected—well, as dejected—as a gleaming, red—eyed, mouth-full-of-sharp fangs, hellhound could look. Until he found another angle.

 

 

 

  I saw where this was going.

 

 

 

  We headed down the hallway and caught up with Monty knocking on Cece’s door. A young woman opened the door. She didn’t look a day over sixteen, and wore her black hair short and spiky. She gazed down at Peaches, unfazed, as she stepped to one side to let us in.

  “What happened to the nanny?” I asked as the young woman placed her hands together and bowed in greeting. “Who’s this?”

  “In light of the earlier events today, I’ve taken steps to contain our young ice mage in our absence,” Monty said, returning the bow. “This is Viana, of the White Phoenix, Quan’s apprentice.”

  “Welcome, Mr. Montague, Mr. Strong,” Viana said as she turned and headed into the apartment. “You wish to see Cece?”

  I returned the bow, slightly surprised Monty would p
lace Cece with a teenager. Even if she was Quan’s apprentice.

  “Please,” Monty said. “Only for a moment.”

  “She’s in the back. Follow me, please.”

  An intricate tattoo of interwoven designs, similar to Quan’s, covered half of her face. The subtle turquoise glow highlighting her tan skin was a clear indicator that the design possessed magical properties.

  A simple, gray robe, tied at the waist with a white sash, covered her slight frame. The sash was interlinked with metal sections, which blended into the tail of a white phoenix. The design snaked itself around her waist, up over one shoulder and across her chest. Beneath the robe, she wore a black T-shirt, black jeans and a pair of black Chuck Taylors.

  “She looks and dresses like some emo teenager,” I said, keeping my voice low as Viana led us into the apartment. “You couldn’t get Quan? So, we settled for teenage Quan lite?”

  “Quan is otherwise occupied after the incident with the grail, and will be for some time,” Monty answered, giving me the stop being rude look. “Viana is the only one out of one hundred apprentices to pass Quan’s acceptance examination. She may look young, but she’s probably older than you.”

  I shuddered at the word “examination” and looked at Viana with a newfound respect. Quan belonged to the White Phoenix: a sect, like Monty’s Golden Circle, that trained mages.

  However, whereas the Golden Circle specialized in battlemages, the White Phoenix was a sect focused on healing, and training mages in the discipline of restorative arts.

  I think Quan interned with the Elders at the Golden Circle at some point, because the restorative part of her discipline usually appeared after she did some serious ass-kicking. I learned pretty quickly that her being a healer didn’t mean she couldn’t fight. It only meant she knew where to hit you to break the delicate bits, before she healed the agony.

  If Viana was Quan’s apprentice, it meant she was formidable. If Monty chose her to watch Cece, a Jotnar ice mage that had almost sent The Moscow into a deep freeze, then she was powerful.

  But the real test would be if she could survive a hellhound’s greeting.

  “She’s in the back room with her guardian,” Viana said, motioning with a hand. “Right that way.”

  “Thank you,” Monty said. “This shouldn’t take long.”

  Viana stood off to the side as Monty headed to the backroom.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  I nodded.

 

 

 

 

 

  Peaches padded over to where Viana stood and bared his teeth in his most ferocious hellhound smile and growled at her.

  TWENTY

  Viana looked down and then gazed in my direction.

  “Is he trying to say hello?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “Or is this the slowest attacking hellhound on the planet?”

  “He’s trying to be friendly,” I said, impressed at her composure. “He doesn’t have the hang of it quite yet.”

  “Miss Quan told me all about you,” Viana said, crouching down and scratching Peaches behind the ears. He folded like a cheap lawn chair. “I bet he’s hungry. Quan said he likes sausages. Do you want a sausage?”

  Peaches gave off a low rumble in a perfect imitation of the Dark Goat’s engine.

 

 

  He turned to face me with a whine.

 

  “Can you communicate with him, really?” Viana asked. “That’s pretty awesome.”

  “It only sounds awesome if your favorite topic is meat, trust me. Can you give him”—more whining—“…one sausage? That would be great.”

  “I can make more if you need,” Viana answered and began gesturing. “It’s not that hard a cast.”

  Peaches gave me some side eye.

 

 

 

  I held up a finger.

  “One, please.”

  Viana finished gesturing and produced a large sausage, placing it on the floor in front of Peaches. He gently hovered over it before inhaling the sausage into the bottomless depths of his digestive system.

  “Guess he was hungry?”

  “No,” I said, nudging my shameless ever-hungry hellhound forward. “His default setting is on devour.”

  “Oh, I see,” she answered. “Must be because he’s a puppy?”

  “Not really,” I said, moving around my ever-widening bondmate. “He just thinks if he isn’t eating every moment, he must be starving.”

  “Oh, well, it was nice to meet you,” Viana said, stepping out of Peaches’ way. “He’s cute—I mean, for a hellhound.”

  “Don’t inflate his oversized ego, please,” I answered, moving down the hallway to the backroom after Monty. I looked down at Peaches. “Don’t forget to say thank you—gently.”

  Peaches turned and let out a small bark which reverberated through the apartment.

  “That’s some bark,” Viana said, rubbing an ear. “You’re welcome, Peaches. Anytime you need a sausage, let me know.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  I shook my head as he padded on ahead of me in confused silence. We got to the back room where Monty was speaking with Cece. Off to the side, sitting next to Cece, was Rags.

  Monty was tracing some white symbols in the air. I recognized some of them from Ziller’s image of the Earth’s Breath.

  �
�I have an exercise for you, Cecelia. This time I want you to try and create a shortcut.”

  “Are you sure? You asked me not to do that any more,” Cece said warily. “Aunt Olga will get really angry if I freeze her building again.”

  “That’s why Viana is here,” Monty said, quietly. “To make sure we don’t freeze the building again.”

  I looked back to see Viana standing in the doorway, focused intently on Cece.

  “Okay, Mr. Montague,” Cece answered, rubbing Rags’ neck. “If you promise Aunt Olga won’t get upset.”

  “I promise,” Monty answered with a slight smile. “Now, I’m going to trace some symbols. I want you to look for the connection.”

  “Look for the connection, got it.”

  “Can you read these?” Monty asked, tracing the symbols slowly. “Do you know what they say?”

  “Not really, Mr. Montague,” Cece answered. “They look all inside out.”

  “Inside out? Of course.” More gesturing again. Monty now had a string of six runic symbols floating on one line, in front of Cece. “And now? Can you read them now?”

  “Yes, I can feel them, but I don’t know what they mean,” Cece answered. “Is that okay?”

  Monty nodded. “That can work. Feeling is how we all start.”

  “You want me to make a shortcut?”

  “Yes. More importantly, can you find a shortcut from this symbol”—he pointed to the first symbol on the left—“to this one?” he finished, pointing to the last symbol on the right. “Look closely.”

  Cece scrunched her face together and narrowed her eyes at the symbols, then started tracing symbols of her own. She made connecting blue lines between the runes Monty had traced and her new ones. This was like watching Ziller’s theories in 3D.

  “Can I add some and switch the places?” she asked, still creating more blue lines of energy, overlapping Monty’s white ones. “Is that okay? I think I can feel them better now.”

  “Do you mean switch the order?” Monty asked. “I’m afraid not, they need to be in a—”

  “Not switch the order,” Cece explained, tracing out two new symbols in her blue energy. “I mean switch the places, like this.”

  The new symbols were duplicates of the first and last symbols on Monty’s line. She placed three symbols facing each other with the last one on the bottom. then repeated the configuration on the outside.