Dark Glass: A Montague and Strong Detective Agency Novel

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Dark Glass: A Montague and Strong Detective Agency Novel Page 5

by Sanchez, Orlando A.


 

  A few seconds later, Peaches returned to normal size. The transition back to normal size usually took a little longer and now I was getting worried that this place wasn’t just affecting me, it was doing something to him as well.

  Even worse, he was outside the ward circle and I was stuck inside. I stepped to the edge again and tried to extend my hand passed the threshold, only to feel the air solidify in front of me.

  Peaches bounded back into the ward circle.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  “Monty, can we try something?” I asked, walking to the edge of the ward circle. “I need to test a theory.”

  “You realize we have packs of Dreadwolves, more behemoths, and worse headed this way?”

  “I do,” I said, looking out into the night. “This might explain some things. Humor me.”

  “What is it?” Monty snapped. “What is this theory, and what makes it so pressing that it needs to be tested now of all times?”

  “Can you try and cross the ward circle threshold?”

  “I told you we’re trapped,” Monty said. “Whatever I did to that door inverted the runes.”

  “What if it wasn’t you?”

  “What are you trying to say?” Monty asked. “That you somehow caused this?”

  “Yes,” I said with a nod. “Give it a try. What’s the worst that can happen? It launches you back to the Keep? Create an air pillow.”

  More howls filled the night.

  “This is a futile exercise,” Monty answered, exasperated. “But if it will get you to focus on the imminent threat rushing towards us, fine.”

  He stepped over the ward circle threshold.

  Nothing happened.

  SEVEN

  “Bloody hell,” Monty said, standing outside of the ward circle. “How is this possible?”

  “Does this mean I’m trapped here?”

  “It would appear so,” Monty said, stepping back into the circle. “We need to get into that Keep. It may be your only way out of this plane.”

  “We may want to deal with them first,” I said, looking behind him. “They don’t look ready to let us go anywhere.”

  Fang approached the edge of the circle.

  “Montague, he is ours,” Fang said. “The weak one bound to the hound of power belongs to us.”

  “I don’t belong to anyone,” I said raising my voice. “Go home.”

  “Prove it, weakling,” Fang said. “Step out of the circle.”

  “I’m not in the mood right now. I like it in here.”

  “Of course you do,” Fang answered. “Because you can’t leave.”

  “What do you mean ‘he is yours’?” Monty asked. “He is not a Dreadwolf.”

  “He is tainted,” Fang answered. “I can smell it on him.”

  “I just forgot to put on deodorant this morning,” I said, raising my arms and smelling my pits. “Nothing a shower can’t fix.”

  “This smell is beyond your body, weak—”

  “The name is Simon, not weakling,” I said, interrupting him. “If you’re so powerful, why don’t you come in here?”

  Fang stepped forward and crossed into the ward circle. The runes around him glowed red as his fur began to smolder.

  “I am powerful enough to withstand these effects for a short time,” Fang said, as his body began to smoke. “Soon, this will happen to you…Simon, the weakling.”

  Fang slowly backed out of the circle and the smoking stopped. I wasn’t feeling any warmer, but that didn’t look comfortable at all.

  “How?” I asked. “I’m not even from this plane.”

  “It matters not,” Fang said with a growl. “Either you come to us or we will take you.”

  “You will not,” Monty said, standing in front of me. “He belongs to no one but himself, and maybe a particularly dangerous vampire.”

  “Gee, thanks,” I said from behind Monty. “Chi doesn’t own me either, you know.”

  “If you need to keep telling yourself that, I understand.”

  “It doesn’t matter, Montague. He will never leave this place…alive,” Fang answered, retreating into the shadows. “Either the Keep will kill him or the Blights will. We will be ready when the fire begins to consume you, weakling.”

  “Blights?” I asked, looking at Monty as the Dreadwolves disappeared. “What the hell are blights?”

  “I don’t know,” Monty said, heading back to the Keep door. “I’ve never heard of them.”

  “Wonderful,” I said. “Have I mentioned what a bad idea this whole trip has been?”

  “You may have alluded to that sentiment once or twice,” Monty said, drawing one of his Sorrows. “This requires drastic measures.”

  “Drastic measures?” I asked, concerned. “What are you doing? Put that sword away.”

  “I can’t use your blade,” Monty said, focusing on the door. “It’s a siphon. This is the only way.”

  “Hold on a second,” I answered. “Usually when someone says ‘this is the only way’ it means they don’t want to try any other option, not that there aren’t any.”

  “We need to get this door open before you start incinerating. This is the only way.”

  “I’m a huge fan of not becoming a smoked sausage, but I’m not liking the tone here,” I said, holding up both hands. “What are you doing with your sword?”

  “Saving you.”

  “No, Monty. Not like this. We can find another way.”

  Monty walked past the edge of the ward circle. He drew his sword across his forearm, drawing blood. The blood floated over to his hand as he gestured.

  “Step away from the door, Simon. This may have some nasty side effects. I realize now what is keeping this place sealed.”

  “You mean the big ass door behind me?” I asked. “Take a picture of the runes and let someone decipher them. Maybe Professor Ziller can figure them out?”

  “I figured them out,” Monty said. “The entire Keep is under a blood ward. This is why conventional methods didn’t work. The blood ward prevents me from accessing the runes.”

  “You don’t know that for sure,” I said, trying to convince him. “You could have just made a mistake. It has been known to happen.”

  “This is not a mistake,” he shot back, raising his voice. “The blood ward must have somehow sensed something within you. This is why you’re trapped in the circle. It could very well be your curse.”

  “Okay, it could be my curse,” I said calmly. Clearly this plane was getting to all of us. “Using blood magic isn’t going to improve the situation. How about you go back to our plane, find some bigger mage brains and ask them how to reverse this blood ward.”

  “I know how to reverse a blood ward,” he said, gesturing again. “Like this.”

  The blood in his hand formed a large rune and floated over to the door. It sank into the wood and disappeared. The door burst with red light, and shot out a beam of energy. The beam slammed into Monty and latched onto his wound.

  “What is that?” I yelled. “Stop this Monty!”

  “Apparently, it needs more blood than I anticipated,” Monty said, falling to his knees. “When the door opens, get inside and send your creature for help. That should get you off this plane safely.”

  “What are you talking about?” I said, looking from Monty to the door. “You need to stop this.”

  He was still outside the circle, which meant I couldn’t reach him. I ran for the door and plunged Ebonsoul into the origin of the tether. The door erupted with energy, severing the tether and knocking me away, towards the edge of the ward circ
le.

  I saw Peaches running to me and then blinking out. I was moving too fast for him to catch. I slammed into the ward circle wall, and the world became black.

  EIGHT

  I opened my eyes in a large hospital bed.

  It reminded me of Haven, and I expected to see an angry Roxanne drift into view any second to chastise me for doing something dangerous and ending up in her care…again.

  That’s when I noticed the ceiling. Unless Roxanne had renovated Haven to medieval modern, I didn’t think the ceiling would be made of stone.

  We were inside the Keep.

  “You’re awake. Good,” a female voice said. “I take it your friend was the one who attempted to undo the blood ward?”

  I nodded, finding my throat too dry to speak. I sat up and looked around. Focusing on the room was difficult when it was slowly moving away from me and tilting. I lay my head back and closed my eyes for a few seconds until the sensation of moving passed.

  “This feels almost as bad as teleportation,” I mumbled. “Where am I?”

  “You’re in the Hunter’s Keep,” the woman said. “Which is, in the best of circumstances, difficult. Now, under a blood ward, it’s nearly impossible.”

  “Did you happen to notice my stomach on the ground outside somewhere doing flip flops?”

  “Here, drink this,” she said, handing me a cool glass of water. “You’re experiencing side effects from forcibly severing a tether. Actually, you didn’t really sever it, it just jumped hosts. From your friend to you. Were you trying to kill yourselves?”

  “We were trying to get inside,” I rasped. “He thought bypassing the blood ward was the best way.”

  “To end his life, perhaps,” she said. “I’m Calisto. You’re lucky I came out when I did. Or both of you would’ve been gone. You, actually, should be dead.”

  I looked around and saw an unconscious Monty laying in a bed next to mine. Calisto didn’t dress like a doctor. She wore casual hiking clothes, a brown t-shirt, dark jeans, and black hiking boots. Her long brown hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail.

  “Normally, I would say that’s easier said than done,” I answered. “But this place has me feeling off. I’m Simon, and that’s”—I pointed over to Monty—“Tristan.”

  She looked rugged, like a woman that felt more at home outdoors, in the mountains, not in a stone fortress. I looked around for my hellhound, but the bear was blocking my view of that side of the room.

  That’s when my brain registered the enormous bear.

  “I must’ve hit my head really hard somewhere,” I said, trying to focus on the other side of the room and failing. “That’s the only thing that would explain the large bear illusion I’m seeing.”

  “That’s not an illusion,” Calisto said, turning to look back at the enormous polar bear sitting by the door next to my hellhound. “That’s my bear, Ursados. He’s my friend and a gate.”

  Ursados was the largest polar bear I’d ever seen. Not that I was an authority on bear sizes. Next to him, Peaches appeared to be a miniature hellhound.

  “A gate?”

  “Ursados is the only way to navigate a blood ward like the one around this Keep,” Calisto said. “Without his ability, trying to get past the door is like reading a book, threading a needle, and sharpening a blade, all at once. The result is usually a bloody mess.”

  “That sounds about right,” I said, rubbing my head. “Monty said this place was deserted. You live here?”

  “Live, is a strong term,” Calisto said. “I’m bound to the park. Why didn’t you use your animal?”

  “Use Peaches?” I asked. “I don’t understand.”

  “He’s a gate, isn’t he? He certainly feels like one. He must be quite powerful. Ursados doesn’t usually get along with other animals. He seems to like your Peaches.”

  “I never thought of Peaches that way, but you’re right--he can go in-between planes.”

  “Like I said, a gate. Now let’s get to the real issue. Why are you here?”

  I explained Monty’s theory about my energy signature and how I may be dying. I even told her what Fang said about my being tainted and being one of them.

  “You met Fang?” she asked. “And survived?”

  “Twice even, along with two behemoths,” I added. “Peaches took care of those.”

  “Alone? He is strong. Very few would dare to face one behemoth alone, much less two.”

  “He’s much stronger than he looks, as long as there’s sausage to be had,” I said. “The behemoths were a little dicey though. I’d never seen one of those.”

  Calisto looked over to where Peaches sat.

  “He’s not a Dreadwolf, but he’s not an ordinary animal either. How did you find each other?”

  “I don’t think you’d believe me even if I told you,” I said. “He was given to me by the god of the underworld.”

  “I see,” Calisto said, seeming to take it in stride. “Can you communicate with Peaches?”

  “Yes,” I said. “We’re bonded.”

  “That explains the connection I sense,” Calisto said. “How about your wizard friend? I can tell he wields power.”

  “Mage, not wizard. He gets touchy about the title.”

  “Mages usually are,” she said with a nod, looking at Monty. “Fang was mistaken. You’re not tainted.”

  “I’m not?” I asked. “Why couldn’t I leave the circle of wards.”

  “You have several bonds happening at once,” Calisto said. “Your energy signature isn’t tainted, it’s scrambled. You’re a mess. I sense no less than three powerful bonds happening simultaneously. Two seem clear, or at least getting there, but that last one…you need help.”

  “That last bond? How bad?”

  “Beyond anything I’ve ever seen. It didn’t seem like a bond at all. More like a curse.”

  “That would be right,” I said. “I’m hellbound, bladebound and cursed alive.”

  “What blade?” she asked, looking around. “I see no weapon besides your gun.”

  I focused and let the silver mist form in my hand. A moment later, I held Ebonsoul. Its dark blade glistened in the light. The runes that made it a Seraph gave off a soft red glow.

  “This blade.”

  “That is an exceptional weapon,” Calisto said. “Did you forge this?”

  “No, it was given to me.”

  “By an enemy?”

  “An enemy? No,” I said, surprised. “Why would an enemy give me a weapon?”

  “That”—she said, pointing at Ebonsoul—“is a dark blade. It radiates darkness, blood-thirst, and death. Whoever gave you that weapon did not give you a gift. They gave you a curse.”

  I thought about Ebonsoul, and how Monty said I had a habit of attracting nastiness. Now I wondered if it was me attracting the chaos in my life, or if it was Ebonsoul? Did Chi know what she was giving me when she gave me the blade?

  “That’s not what’s wrong with you though,” Calisto replied. “You’re out of place.”

  “I feel like I’m all here,” I said, patting myself down. “What do you mean?”

  “You’re shifting with reality.”

  “Monty said I was dying,” I answered. “He wasn’t positive, which is why we’re here.”

  “Shifting would seem like dying to the untrained eye,” Calisto replied, glancing at Monty. “No, what I mean is that you’re acting like an open gate. You’re out of phase. That’s why the Keep reacted to you, and why you couldn’t leave the ward circle.”

  “How did this happen?” I asked. “Overexposure to runic energy?”

  “What? No,” she corrected. “This is a temporal disturbance.”

  “A disturbance,” I said pensively. “Like a disturbance in the force?”

  “I don’t know what you mean by ‘the force’,” Calisto answered. “This is a temporal situation.”

  “Does it happen often?”

  “I’ve never seen a case like yours, but I’ve seen it occurring with
time-skippers,” she said. “You don’t seem like a time-skipper. No offense, but you don’t possess enough power to stop time.”

  “None taken. What happens to time-skippers?”

  “When they leap around time, they cause ripples,” Calisto said, bringing her hands together and then spreading them apart. “After a while, the ripples bounce back creating causal anomalies.”

  She must have seen the expression on my face.

  “Right,” I said. “Can you pretend I didn’t understand a word you just said?”

  “Forgive me,” Calisto said. “These subjects can become quite complex. In simple terms, a causal anomaly is the same as being rejected by time. Those around the anomaly, experience causal disruptions.”

  “What if I could stop time?” I asked. “Not for long, but for a few seconds at a time?”

  “Then that would explain what’s happening to you,” Calisto answered, her voice grim. “Your disruption of time is causing your reality to be impacted. Every time you time-skipped, you splintered your timeline, creating parallels.”

  “Times when I didn’t time-skip or made other choices?”

  “Exactly. Over time—pardon the pun, this creates a temporal backlash. You become out of phase, causing anomalies around you.”

  “What kind of anomalies?”

  “At first, it will be small things. Time dilations or hiccups. Lose a minute here or there. You barely realize it. Then it gets progressively worse.”

  “Worse how?”

  “You start to impact cause and effect,” she said. “Things won’t work the way they should. There would be either magnifications of power or a complete absence. It’s hard to tell.”

  “Because the cases are rare?”

  “Well, that, and the subjects usually implode or are lost in time streams, never to return. Time will, and does, balance. No one escapes it for long.”

  “Has anyone been cured of the time ripples?” I asked. “Can it be stopped?”

  “Of course,” Calisto said with a nod. “The quickest way is with a blade.”

  “I meant a non-lethal method,” I said. “Can they be reversed?”

  “I’ve never heard of that,” Calisto said. “Now you’re getting into territory that is beyond me. I would imagine you’d need to undo whatever gave you the ability to skip time in the first place?”

 

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