The Golem: A Montague & Strong Detective Novel (Montague & Strong Case Files Book 10)
Page 10
With one last gesture, the runic symbols became solid faces, creating a triangular pyramid inside a larger triangular pyramid. The outer one was a light blue, the inner one a deep blue.
Monty rubbed his chin and stared at the image for a good ten seconds before saying anything. He shook his head slowly and looked at the floating image from every angle. I sensed the latent energy that pulsed from the symbols.
“Did she get it?” I asked, pointing at the pyramid figure floating in the air. “Whatever that is, it looks powerful.”
“Dual tetrahedrons?” Monty said, narrowing his eyes. “How did you do this?”
“I feel them,” Cece answered. “Your symbols reminded me of ice. So I stacked them, like crystals.”
“That makes perfect sense,” Monty said, mostly to himself. “You’re an ice mage. It informs how you cast, of course.”
“Did I make the shortcut you wanted?” Cece asked, looking for approval. “Was it right?”
“Cecelia, you have done exceedingly well,” Monty said with an almost smile. He reached out and was about to pat her on the head, then changed his mind at the last second, and patted her on the shoulder. “I am impressed. Well done.”
Cece beamed with excitement, clearly fighting hard to contain herself. Even I was surprised. This was the warmest I’d seen Monty. He’d even given her a compliment which was quite a feat, since he belonged to Master Yat’s school of physical complimenting.
“Does this mean I don’t have to do homework this week?” Cece asked, clearly influenced by Frank’s philosophy of how to manipulate to get what you want, except she didn’t count on one thing: mages don’t bargain.
“Absolutely not,” Monty said, and Cece’s face fell from the heights of exultation to the depths of despair, or in her case, homework. “You will keep working this shortcut until you can do it with the symbols in every and any order. The tetrahedrons must not collapse, and must be able to be inverted without catastrophic side effects.”
“That sounds hard,” Cece moaned, sounding like a ten-year-old who had just been given extra chores. “That will take forever, Mr. Montague.”
“Then, you better get started right away,” Monty said. “Viana will keep a careful eye on you”—he glanced over and nodded at Viana, who returned the nod—“to make sure you stay focused and under control.”
My phone rang in my pocket. I checked the number—Ramirez. If he was calling me now, so soon after we spoke, it was bad news. I headed into the other room to take the call.
TWENTY-ONE
I connected the call and was greeted by the sounds of explosions and gunfire
“Angel, what the hell is going on?”
“No time to explain, Strong. You and your mage need to get downtown—now. Shit!” Ramirez yelled. “Get your asses away from that thing now!”
“Golem?” I asked, poking my head back into the room and getting Monty’s attention with a wave. “Do you see it?”
“Keep her safe,” Monty said to Viana and followed me out of Cece’s apartment. He gave me a look. “The golem?”
I nodded.
I didn’t bother answering, and Peaches padded to my side with a low growl.
“Do I see it? Do I see it?” Ramirez scoffed. “That…that…thing is destroying Battery Park City. Get down here, now!”
“Are you close to it?” I asked. “Make sure you keep your people away from it.”
“Wow, Strong, that’s some grade-A advice right there,” he said, his voice grim. “Next, you’ll be telling me not to waste my bullets because they won’t work on something as solid as granite.”
“Well…I was—”
“Forget it,” Ramirez snapped. “We are keeping back. Right now, to the normals, it just looks like spontaneous explosions occurring in the area. Those who are sensitive can track through its veil and are keeping everyone out of its way.”
“It has a veil?”
“Did I stutter?” Ramirez said with a growl. “Stop wasting time. Your buddies Banjo and Cash are down here too.”
I groaned inwardly. Things were bad enough without adding the comfort-food duo to the mix. Worse, if they tried to tangle with the golem, they’d get themselves killed.
“Don’t let them get close to it.”
“Too late,” Ramirez said. “One of them—the tall, bald one…I want to say Bango? tried to do that thing your mage does, and created a ball of fire.”
“Did it work?”
“Didn’t even make it halfway to the rock monster before it just…fizzed out. The rock thing bounced him with a short trip across the street, courtesy of a backhand to the chest.”
I had left Cece’s now with Monty and Peaches in tow. I hit the stairwell running and they were keeping pace.
“Shit, is he—?”
“An idiot? Yes, and extremely lucky. He should be dead, don’t ask me how he survived. Get your asses down here.”
“We’re on our way,” I said. “Give me five minutes.”
“I’ll do my best. So far the casualities are minor because we’ve managed to keep it contained, but that won’t last.” Ramirez cursed under his breath. “Damn thing is strong. Move, move, move! Hurry, Strong.”
“We’re on our—”
The call disconnected.
“We need to get down there,” I said as we jumped into the Dark Goat, roaring the engine to life and flooring the gas pedal. Peaches gave a low growl from the backseat. “Can you sense it, Monty?”
Monty pulled out the document from his pocket.
“Not yet, I can’t,” Monty said. “Where is the NYTF engaged?”
“Ramirez said Battery Park City,” I answered, swerving onto the West Side Highway and cutting off several cars. “I’m guessing we just follow the explosions?”
“That would be one way, yes,” Monty said, looking down at the map. “I need to call Ursula. Do not rush into this, not yet.”
“What? Are you insane? Lives are on the line.”
“Trust me,” Monty said, pressing a button on his phone. “Keep back. Get close, but not too close.”
Monty connected the call and routed it through the Dark Goat.
“Tristan,” Ursula answered, her voice tight with anger. “Tell me you aren’t in Battery Park.”
TWENTY-TWO
“Not yet we aren’t,” Monty said. “Where are you?”
“About five minutes away,” Ursula answered. “My team is ten minutes out. This attack caught us off guard. A nexus point is under attack, but it doesn’t read like Mourn.”
“Mourn?” I asked, avoiding traffic. “What is Mourn?”
“I’ll explain it later,” Monty said quickly. “Ursula, the golem is a siphon for mages.”
“Good thing I’m not a mage, then.”
“Precisely,” Monty said. “When you engage the golem, Simon and his creature will join you, in addition to two other questionable paranormal investigators.”
“Excuse me? I’ll be doing what?”
“What do you keep reminding me of?” Monty asked, glancing at me.
“That you need to drink coffee? That we need a vacay…STAT?”
“That you are not a mage,” Monty answered. “This situation is tailor-made—”
“Suicide,” I finished for Monty. “Are you crazy? I don’t know how to face a golem.”
“I just need you to keep it occupied,” Monty said, looking at the map of hubs. “Ursula, is there a hub nexus point in Battery Park?”
“Yes, a major hub, NP-1, is down there,” she answered. “If we’re going to be dancing with this golem thing…where will you be?”
“I’ll be looking for whoever is holding its leash,” Monty said. “He’ll be within three hundred yards and needs line of sight.”
“Three hundred yards is plenty of ground to cover.”
“Indeed. I’m going to ask you to reposition the golem behind some of the buil
dings if you can,” Monty said. “That should force its handler out into the open. Whatever you do, do not allow the golem to destroy the hub.”
“Not while I’m breathing,” she said, and I believed her. “The rest of it? Can’t promise anything, but I see the plan. Good luck.”
She ended the call.
“Two words,” I said, weaving through traffic, nearly clipping a taxi cab. “Property damage. We bring this thing near buildings, and the entire Dark Council—not just a battalion—will be after us.”
“It can’t be helped. If Toson forms an army—an unstoppable army, mind you, there won’t be any property left to damage. The Dark Council can piss off if they have a problem with it.”
“Piss off?” I asked. “That’s going to be our response if they come at us, guns and orbs blazing—piss off?”
“Yes,” Monty answered, his voice low and laced with menace. “We do not answer to the Dark Council. We have saved this city countless times and will continue to do so without their permission. If they want a war…they will find out why Montague battlemages were the most feared mages on the battlefield.”
“I’d rather avoid a Dark Council-Darth Montague war if we can,” I said, wary of the threat in Monty’s voice. “If we could focus on preventing the city from being crushed by a large rock monster—that would be great.”
“Haven’t you been paying attention?” Monty asked, exasperated. “At the very least, Ursula sees the plan.”
“She sees the plan?” I asked. “I’m glad someone sees the plan, because I sure as hell don’t. What is the plan, Monty? Ursula and I are bait?”
“It’s quite simple,” Monty said, keeping his voice calm, which only creeped me out more. “You, your creature, along with Ursula and your two new friends, will engage the golem.”
“That’s not a plan—that’s the fastest way to get crushed tonight,” I snapped. “What about Bungie and Smash? Won’t they be siphoned?”
“Bangers’ energy signature is negligible to the point of being non-existent,” Monty said, dismissing my words with a wave. “He’s in greater danger of getting siphoned by vacuuming his carpet. His associate is nearly a normal—only in danger of extreme weight loss by ultimate squashing. Make sure you remind him to move around a bit, though.”
“Way to go, Mr. Sympathy. They could die, you know. They don’t belong out here.”
“Precisely.”
“I don’t understand. What do you mean, ‘precisely’? You want them to get squished?”
“Of course not,” Monty replied. “But they won’t listen to you or me or anyone. I sincerely doubt Ramirez’s interview will dissuade them, either.”
“So we feed them to the golem?”
“The only way is for them to experience this world firsthand. If they won’t listen to reason, they must face the truth.”
“They could die.”
“Only one of us is immortal here, Simon,” Monty said with a sigh. “Any one of us could die facing this creature—even you. They want to be paranormal investigators? Then they have to realize that this isn’t a game. Every time we face a threat, the stakes are high—the highest. If they can’t or won’t accept that, they have no business out here.”
He was right. Even being cursed alive was no guarantee I could return from being reduced to particulate matter, not that I was looking to test that theory. What bothered me was that Monty was willing to put them in harm’s way, knowing they were ill-equipped to deal with the threat. His reasoning was sound, but his method was questionable. Something was off; I just didn’t know what. Maybe we really needed a vacay.
“I’ll keep an eye on them and make sure they don’t get squished by Rocky,” I said. “How are you going to find Toson? Three hundred yards is too much area to cover for one person.”
“Depends on where the golem is,” Monty said, and pointed. “Pull up there. I’ll approach the rest of the way on foot.”
I stopped the Dark Goat some distance from the NYTF cordon. Flames and fire illuminated the night sky. The light played off Monty’s face as he looked somberly at the devastation. He pulled on the sleeves of his Zegna mageiform suit. I could tell this one was runed to take damage, which meant it was unlikely to survive the encounter with Toson.
“Why don’t you just wear combat armor?” I asked. “It would be safer. Maybe not as stylish, but definitely safer.”
“It’s not just a matter of style, though there is that consideration,” Monty answered. “I’m a mage. Combat armor would prevent my mobility. If I can’t move freely, I can’t fight efficiently. That would result in a rapid visit to Haven, or worse.”
“This is going to suck,” I said, shaking my head and looking off in the distance at the destruction caused by the golem. “You sure you want to do this part alone?”
“I can’t go near the golem yet,” Monty said with a nod. “The siphon would only feed it. My best course of action is to confront Toson. If you find yourself in over your head—get them away.”
“Where exactly would you like me to take them?”
“Underground, the subway or a tunnel. Anywhere off the surface. It shouldn’t be able to follow you.”
“Sounds like a plan,” I said. “What if Toson is too strong? Professor Ziller said he’s close to an Archmage.”
“I don’t intend on facing him, just getting close enough to use Cecelia’s shortcut.”
“That sort of sounds like facing him. How close do you need to get?”
“Closer than I want to,” Monty said. “Her shortcut requires some proximity. I can boost it, but it will still be dangerously close.”
“Still, she figured it out. Was the answer beyond you? Or did you just want to give her something to make her feel better after converting The Moscow into an ice palace?”
“Astute,” Monty answered with a nod. “She is a gifted mage. Her solution is elegant and only requires a slight adjustment. It was limited by her focus on the crystalline formations of ice.”
“So you knew how to make the shortcut?”
“Every teacher shows the student what they need, not everything the teacher knows,” Monty said and started walking off. “Be careful, Simon.”
“You too, Monty. Go shut down that mage—I’ll deal with Rocky.”
He walked off and faded into the night, disappearing with one of his mage camouflages. I pulled up to the NYTF cordon, where I was promptly stopped by a bored-looking officer.
“I’m afraid you’re going to have to turn around, sir,” the officer instructed in standard checkpoint speech. “This area is closed off and dangerous to the public.”
“Sure,” I said. “Have you seen the reason you’re keeping the public away?”
“I just follow orders. Director said I get overtime by standing here. That’s good enough for me.”
“Actually, that’s not good enough,” I said, getting out and opening the rear suicide door. “You need to be on point tonight or innocent people might die.”
“Yeah, sure. Who are you, again?”
Peaches stepped out in dramatic hellhound fashion, massive head first, then enormous paws. The officer took a few steps back when Peaches stared at him. He looked from Peaches to the Dark Goat and let his shaky hand rest on the holster of his weapon as the blood slowly drained from his face.
“You don’t want to do that—trust me,” I said, reaching slowly inside my jacket. I flashed him my ID. “Director Ramirez is waiting for me.”
The officer, whose name-tag read, Landis grabbed his shoulder radio without taking his eyes off of us.
“I have an unidentified person at the south cordon who says he’s here for Director Ramirez,” Landis said, his voice cracking ever so slightly. “He’s accompanied by a large canine—I think. Over.”
“That’s Strong,” Ramirez’s voice barked over the radio. “Let him through.”
Landis, now completely alert and semi-ready to bolt, nodded and waved at me to come through the cordon.
Peaches bared his fangs with a growl, and Landis backed up several feet.
“Shit!” he said, nearly pulling out his gun. “What kind of creature is that?”
“The kind that will chew your arm off, if you pull out that gun,” I said, walking past the cordon. “Keep on your toes, Officer Landis. There are worse things out here tonight.”
“Fuck me,” I heard the officer say as we kept walking down the street. “That is not a dog.”