Silver Tongue: A Novel in The Nate Temple Supernatural Thriller Series (The Temple Chronicles Book 4)

by Shayne Silvers

  And brought to life a tree that could not be touched by magic or harmed by blade.

  Had killed every Grimm on my property.

  Well, except for Ichabod.

  I growled at that thought, a rage recently brought back to flame where before it had been a smoldering coal in the bottom of a dying fire. Now it flickered hungrily, reaching for the pile of fresh logs resting on the metaphorical grate above. The dark voice grew more powerful, reaching out to take hold of the power inside my soul, or beneath my feet, or wherever the Maker power stemmed from. It did that sometimes. Reached beyond the cane without me calling upon it.

  I instantly closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and clenched my fist around the cane. And then around the influx of power that instantly responded. Metaphysically. To all outward appearances, I was completely still.

  But I was in a battle for my very soul, even if it looked like I was resting on a chair.

  A few tense moments later and the leviathan of darkness dove back into the depths of my psyche, or soul, or wherever it resided. And I was in complete control again. I released the cane.

  “Right, no more thoughts on him,” I murmured aloud.

  I flipped through the book, searching for similar ailments and symptoms to Indie’s current condition. Malnutrition. Loss of control. Narcolepsy, perhaps? I began flipping the pages faster, my fear growing at my impotent search, finding nothing that seemed to relate. Sure, the symptoms were there, but the causes were varied and obtuse. Swallowed sea-dragon’s blood. Performed summoning for demigod incorrectly. Poisoned by Deathhallow Mushroom… and even more bizarre causes.

  I reached the end of the book, frowned, and tossed it near the bookshelf with a muffled curse. Then I got up, approached the book, picked it up and placed it back on the shelf. My fingers traced the spines, and I plucked out a book on runes. I closed my eyes, thinking.

  Well, remembering…

  I envisioned the memory palace in my mind, wondering why I hadn’t done this instead of traveling here in the first place. But I had wanted to just… get away for a minute. Do something I loved. Pick up a book in peace. No demands. No life-threatening problem. Just pick up a damn book and lounge in a chair.

  To relax…

  I shook my head, soaring up into the third story of shelves in my imagined library. Mahogany ladders reached from one floor to the next, connected to the shelves on rails with wheels on the bottom so one could slide laterally to find the book they required. They also reached up to the next level, so that one could climb up onto the next balcony, and hop onto a different ladder to find the book on the next level.

  And on…

  And on… to physically impossible levels. Most of the upper floors were entirely smoke and fog, having been undeveloped as they hadn’t been necessary for me to complete yet. But none of that mattered now. I used this process to store knowledge. Well, to organize my already stored knowledge. I had a palace in my mind that organized and catalogued all of the things I wanted to remember, know, or understand from my history.

  For example, the blueprints to Chateau Falco that now rested on the desk on the lower level, in perfect detail. As did a duplicate family tree on the far wall where before had rested a favorite chair of mine. The family tree was a duplicate of the fountain at my family Mausoleum, complete with new details I had only just noticed in the last few days. I didn’t glance at it at all, just noticed it in my peripheral, which was safer.

  I found the book I needed, touched it, and verified that it was the one I had once seen my father discussing with Gunnar. The childhood werewolf was much younger, too young to likely remember this moment from his youth, but he was thumbing his wrist as he nodded to my father.

  Up until now, I hadn’t truly realized the importance of seeing this as a child myself. I had merely thought my father reprimanding Gunnar for damaging a book, or something children are wont to do. But after Asterion mentioning runes and the fact that Gunnar’s rune held the power word for family, this event took on much more meaning.

  I opened my eyes, glanced down at the book and smiled. It was so simple that I laughed. At least I could help Ashley now. I would just have to work a bit harder to help out Indie. I opened a gateway back to Chateau Falco, in my study, and then hesitated before stepping through. I still wasn’t ready for bed yet, and neither was I in the mood to study a book on runes to see what other secrets it held. I tossed the book through the portal where it landed atop the blueprints on my desk, and whistled sharply. The Guardian bounded up the stairs, surprisingly soft for a stone behemoth. It glanced at me, at the portal, and then over its shoulder. I nodded and the tail flickered back and forth in what I took as excitement. Another Guardian, the one who had originally been standing guard leapt into the room and both tore through the gateway leading back to Chateau Falco. I smiled as I let it close behind them.

  I extinguished the orbs of light and opened another gateway, this one in an alley just outside the shop. I fancied a walk. It was a beautiful night with a bright moon. I took a deep breath of the warm air, smelling a hint of rain perhaps on the way. Or it was just basic Missouri weather, humid as a sauna.

  A steady, clinking noise could be heard around the corner. As I reached the street, I turned right to walk in front of the entrance to my store, checking for trash and whatnot.

  And a bum sat just beside my door, shaking a coffee cup for money. In fact, it was one of the paper cups from my bookstore. He locked eyes with me and I stared in disbelief.

  “You?”

  He squinted back warily so I took a few slow steps into the light. His face cracked into a guilty smile when he suddenly recognized me. “Master Temple,” he glanced down at his cup and then back to me with a shrug and a sigh. “Great night to be alive, eh?”

  Chapter 44

  I nodded, approaching him, not entirely understanding. I stopped a few paces away, staring at the customer from my store. The one that had bought the drinks for the girls. I scowled. “You’re homeless?” I finally blurted.

  He nodded. “Where it counts,” he answered cryptically.

  I didn’t press. “But… you bought those girls drinks.”

  He nodded. “Yes.”

  The silence rolled right on through the space between us like a tumbleweed in an old Western flick. “Well?” I finally said, mimicking spitting into an invisible spittoon in the street. In a Texas twang like Agent Jeffries, I drawled, “Tell me a story, old one,” as I plopped down beside him. I leaned comfortably against the brick wall, which was still warm from the day’s sunlight. He chuckled, likely because of the twang in my phrase, but also because he didn’t look that old. In fact, he looked mid-thirties, tops.

  “I… well, I like to help people out when I get a chance. After all, I live off of the help from others, so I figure a little reinvestment can’t be a bad thing. It’s what all those rich bankers do.”

  I smiled. “No, they rob people blind. Completely different. They just make you think they are returning a favor. Don’t you watch the news?” Then I winced, remembering he was homeless.

  “Nope. Don’t catch much of that.” I nodded, glad he didn’t sound upset.

  “Ran into a spell of bad luck in my youth. Stayed with me for quite a while. Could have used a helping hand. A genuine helping hand, not another con artist offering help. I seemed to meet every one of that variety,” his eyes grew distant, as if a heavy weight was slowly lifting from his chest. “So when I see someone in a tight spot, even if it’s just a lack of confidence, I buy them a cup o’ joe. Tell them something motivational, and then move on. No lingering. Just a random kindness.”

  “Well, thanks for picking my shop.”

  He shrugged. “What about you? You have a thousand-yard stare going on right now. You’re hearing me, but your mind’s elsewhere.” I shot a look at him, but he wasn’t watching me. He was staring out into the street. Just like I had been.

  I thought about what I could say. Which wasn’t much. “My fiancé is sick,” I
finally murmured.

  He grunted, twirling his cup idly. “Doctor sick, or…?”

  My heart lurched, recalling Asterion’s last words. “The latter,” I whispered.

  He was silent for a few, as if debating something in his mind. He finally shook his head, as if coming to some important decision. “Well, I don’t know much about ladders, but…” he winked at my sharp glance, letting me know he was teasing with the wordplay, “…I wasn’t always a bum.”

  “I didn’t even know you were a b-” I caught myself, “homeless until five minutes ago.”

  “Right. Well, point is, I made a bad decision for the wrong reasons… and it led me here.”

  “I’ve got nowhere to go. Sounds like a good story,” I offered casually.

  “Not a story,” the man watched me out of the corner of his eye. “How about a fairy tale?”

  I chuckled, hiding my instinctual alarm. “Sure.”

  “I had a beautiful family. Good job. Nice place. Trustworthy friends…” he began. I bent my knees and rested my hands atop them. “But my father died of a sudden illness, with only me at his side after a day spent hiking. It left the family a mess. Bickering, fighting over money, assets, you name it.” I nodded in understanding. “Thing is, he had been healthy, happy even. Came out of nowhere. I felt like it was my fault for taking him hiking. When the dust settled, it began to nag at me. How truly horrible his death was, and how it had ruined a perfectly good thing. Destroyed a strong family. I looked at my sleeping wife and kids, and realized true terror for the first time. So… I crossed a line.” He looked at me. “This is where it gets weird.”

  I smiled, nodding in curiosity. “Okay.”

  “My father had mentioned a name before he let out his last breath. And he mentioned it three times in a row.” My heart lurched in sudden anxiety, fearing I knew the next part of his story. “A… creature appeared, in the shadows so I couldn’t see clearly, but…” his eyes flicked in my direction for a moment before he continued, “he promised me the world.”

  I nodded sadly, letting out a sigh. “Heard a few stories like that unfortunately…”

  “I didn’t say anything, but the creature murmured his name to me… told me to remember it for later. With the funeral, burial, and all of that, I never thought about it, for the next few weeks. But that night as I watched my family sleeping peacefully, I remembered. And I called out to him. He showed up as if waiting for me, sniffing my wife and children as he let out a dark laugh. Then he asked me what I desired. I told him I didn’t want to die.”

  I blinked, slowly turning to face him, suddenly alarmed that I was sitting next to another freaking immortal ready to smash my face in. But he wasn’t watching me, and seemed entirely absorbed in his tale.

  “So we made a deal. I did him a future favor, and he granted my wish. I signed a long piece of paper he had ready for me, and then he was gone. I lived in peace, forgetting my deal. I didn’t see him for quite some time. But every time someone commented on my looks, I began to cringe harder and harder. It wasn’t long until my son began to look older than me. My wife died, never knowing, never understanding why I didn’t age like her, but never asking, just praying. But prayer didn’t save her. I moved to the country to avoid the looks. My kids visited me a bit, but I wasn’t allowed to be a part of their lives. Couldn’t get to see their kids. They simply didn’t know how to explain why Grandpa looked twenty years younger than their dad.” He was shaking his head, chuckling lightly. “Imagine, telling your kids that the man twenty years younger than you was your father. They would lock you up, thinking you had lost your mind. I was alone. But I was alive. I hadn’t told the Demon that I wanted to live forever, but standing over my son’s grave truly hit the nail on the head. I don’t want to die… is what I had asked for. I had just wanted to be there for my family, not live forever…”

  I was transfixed… I couldn’t think of a specific Demon who could do such a thing. At least to my knowledge, although I was confident that some were out there who might have the juice.

  “It wasn’t long until I tried to resolve the situation. Suicide. But it never worked. I always woke up after, unharmed. Then I began to travel. Didn’t have much money, but couldn’t stand one more moment out there in the country. Hopped around a bit and ended up here.” He glanced up at me. “Only peace I’ve found is sipping a cup of coffee here,”

  “Well, you can just consider yourself a VIP at the shop then. Free coffee forev…” I winked, “for an unspecified length of time…” he smiled back.

  “Point is, I made a poor decision for a poor reason. But… if your fiancé is at the point of no return, maybe… he can help…” he was practically whispering at the end.

  Now, normally I would have laughed this off. But Asterion had said she was dying, right here, right now. I didn’t have time to spend a few weeks researching cures, because I didn’t even know what the hell was wrong. And for it to be so sudden made me think it was magic related, or Grimm related, and I didn’t have the juice to help her. I knew nothing about being a Grimm.

  You could say I was in a pretty desperate place, ready to make a deal, consequences be damned.

  And you would be right.

  “What is this Demon’s name?” I asked, debating with myself.

  He was silent for a breath. “That’s it? I thought you were just holding your thoughts for a few. Most would have laughed in my face. The stories about you must be true…” he was watching me sideways.

  I arched a brow at him. “Stories?”

  “You’re a wizard.”

  I smiled. “I think you saw proof of that yesterday…”

  He slapped his knees, nodding. “Can you help me?” he asked in a fierce whisper, glancing around nervously. I blinked, and suddenly realized that he was asking me to kill him.

  I shook my head. “I have no idea how to cure something like that. Not even the faintest.”

  He sighed. “Worth a shot, I guess.”

  After a few moments, I repeated myself. “The Demon?”

  “Silver Tongue.”

  My eyes suddenly narrowed, a field of blue resting over the scene before me as if someone had plucked a set of stylish blue-lensed glasses on my nose. I climbed to my feet, slowly turning to glare down at the man.

  “You’ve heard of him,” was the soft reply.

  “Oh, yeah,” I growled angrily, remembering Achilles and Midas dismissing the name. “And, oh, isn’t this convenient. One of his pet dogs has conveniently been hanging out at my shop since it reopened. And, oh, look at that. He’s here to make an introduction right when I need it the most.” The man seemed to wilt under the heat of my words. “Your coffee privilege has been revoked. In fact, your-”

  He lifted hard eyes to me, and I could see they were full of pain. “I just told you why you shouldn’t make a deal.” He whispered. “I told you what it cost me. If I was so bad, would I do that? Or ask you to kill me before giving away his name?” I frowned, shaking my head, but still not trusting him entirely. “I only said that the option was before you. Here, let me explain it further in a parable.” I waited, folding my arms. “A cowboy rides into town on his horse. Pulls up in front of the saloon, ties the reins to the hitching post and climbs down, all the while watched by two old-timers sitting on the porch. They watch as the cowboy strides up to the horse, lifts up his tail, and plants a fat kiss on the horse’s asshole. They almost fall out of their chairs. ‘Son, did you just kiss that horse’s asshole?’ The cowboy looked up at the two men, nodding after a moment. The two old men look at each other, then back at the cowboy. ‘Why in the hell would you do that?’ The cowboy tapped his lips. ‘Chapped lips.’ The old men simply stared in disbelief. ‘Are you trying to tell us that kissing your horse’s asshole helps your chapped lips?’ The cowboy watched them for a moment, glanced at his horse, and then shrugged before turning back to them. ‘Stops me from licking my lips,’ he said with a grin.”

  I blinked, then let out a laugh, despite my
self. “What the hell does that mean?” I finally managed.

  “Just because something works doesn’t mean it’s a good idea.”

  My laughter died as my eyes narrowed. He shrugged. “Am I a plant? Yes. Was I told to arrange a meet? Yes. Do I get something out of it? Yes.” He let out an angry sigh. “But I wouldn’t be here, if it wasn’t for making a bad deal myself. Obviously, my father made a bad deal, and I fell right into the trap after him. As much as I want my promised reward for arranging you guys to meet, I want you to know that even though you will get what you want, maybe it’s not worth it.” He turned his back, taking a few steps. “Let me know what you decide.” After a moment, he called over his shoulder, “How much she’s worth to you.”

  And that comment broke through my rage.

  “Let’s go meet the big bad Silver Tongue,” I snarled.

  The man dropped his head, shaking it slowly before turning to face me. “Remember that you can ask for one thing. One thing only. Nothing else will be discussed, so get your head straight right now. If you go off on a tangent, you’re likely to ask a question you didn’t intend, and you’ll find that you sold your soul only to know the secret ingredient to KFC’s crispy chicken.” He smiled lightly. “For example.”

  I had a million things I wanted to ask the man, but I knew the truth of the Bum’s words. Just like dealing with fairies. Or a genie. Limits. Rules. Still, my mind raced with questions about the immortals hunting me, why the book was so important, and a dozen more. I finally nodded.

  “So be it. Let’s go sell your soul to save your girl,” he said sadly.

  Chapter 45

  The bum had told me a location, and for expediency’s sake, I Shadow Walked us there. Not exactly sure of the location, opening a gateway would be dicey. What if someone happened to be standing where I opened the portal? Would I slice them in half by opening a gateway? Erring on the side of caution, I chose the safer alternative.