Dark Glass: A Montague and Strong Detective Agency Novel

by Sanchez, Orlando A.

  “That sounds complicated.”

  “True,” she said. “I really don’t know if it’s possible. Death seems to be a sure fire method, though.”

  “Will Monty be okay?” I asked, glancing his way. “He’s looking a little pale.”

  “You probably saved his life by jumping into the tether. He’ll recover soon. Wizards are a hardy bunch. You, on the other hand, should be a corpse.”

  “Can he still run his test?” I asked. “He wanted to see what exactly was wrong with me.”

  “Yes. Once he recovers, and provided it doesn’t involve blood magic of any kind,” Calisto answered. “If he can agree to that then he’s free to conduct his test.”

  “What happens if it contains blood magic?” I asked, because living dangerously was my middle name.

  “Blood magic outside of the Keep will trigger a neutralizing effect, like the tether.”

  “What happens inside?”

  “I wouldn’t be able to get to you in time. You’d be wiped out before you could blink.”

  “Right. No blood magic. Noted.”

  “Good plan,” she said. “I’ll be back shortly. I need to reset the wards your friend inverted.”

  “Will that let me leave the ward circle?”

  “Not while you’re alive, no. I hope the test your friend wants to run can help you find a way out of here. If not, you’re stuck.”

  NINE

  “Can we run the less painful version of the test now that we know what we’re dealing with?” I asked, as Monty created runes in the air around me. “Something like the torture-lite version?”

  “I appreciate you stepping into the tether,” Monty said, as he kept tracing runes in the air. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” I said. “Glad to keep you around, even if you’re still grumpy.”

  “Surviving the tether means you’re still somewhat immortal, which is good.”

  “I’d like to think so,” I said. “I’m kind of used to breathing.”

  “We still need to run the test,” Monty replied. “It’s the only way to determine if what Calisto said is correct.”

  “She seems pretty trustworthy. I think we can take her at her word.”

  “We can’t,” he said. “You even said so yourself. She feels out of her depth with your condition.”

  “What about Sid?” I asked, suddenly remembering a pain-free option. “Maybe he could help? It seems like this would be his area of expertise.”

  “Of course. Sid,” Monty said. “Why didn’t I think of him? Do you have his number?”

  “Well, no.”

  “How exactly should I reach out to him? Does he have a special signal I could light up the night sky with?”

  “Oh, hilarious,” I replied. “Really?”

  “Maybe he lives in a manor with a butler, and beneath, he has a convenient secret cave base of operations no one knows about?” Monty asked. “Do you have the cave address? We could head over there immediately.”

  “You really have missed your calling. For the record, we do not mock the Bat.”

  “Do you think Sid is really Batman?” Monty asked with feigned seriousness. “Are you sure his name isn’t Bruce?”

  “How much blood did you lose from that tether?” I asked. “Sounds like not enough is reaching your brain.”

  “Do you hear how preposterous your suggestion sounds?” Monty retorted. “You want me to reach out to someone who, what did you say he was, oh yes, I recall…a designer.”

  “That’s what he said he was,” I answered. “A Lead Designer.”

  “What exactly does this Sid design?”

  “Streams, specifically time streams.”

  “A time stream designer,” Monty said, nodding. “When you saw him, was there a large blue telephone box nearby?”

  “What? No,” I said. “I was inside the Randy Rump waiting for you when he came in.”

  “Did he show you a specific device, something sonic? A screwdriver, perhaps?”

  “All he gave me was the box,” I said, slightly upset. “I showed it to you, if you remember.”

  “Of course, the keepsaker,” Monty said, with a nod. “Did James manage to see him? Anyone else?”

  “Are you saying I imagined Sid?”

  “No, I’m asking if anyone else saw him enter the Randy Rump when he appeared.”

  “Don’t think so. He kind of stopped time when he appeared.”

  “Well, that’s convenient,” Monty said. “How exactly are we supposed to contact Sid, the Lead Designer of time streams?”

  “I didn’t contact him at all. He just showed up. You’re the mage. I thought you’d have some idea, seeing as he sounds like he belongs more to your world than mine.”

  “My world is your world,” Monty said. “You do realize we’re having this conversation in an alternate plane? Your idea of normal left the station without you long ago, Chosen of Kali.”

  “No need to rub it in,” I groused. “I’m aware of how different my life is, trust me.”

  “I do,” Monty answered. “With my life.”

  “But we still have to run the test, don’t we?”

  Monty nodded.

  “I’m not refuting that there are entities out there that may indeed manage time streams,” Monty said. “There could be an entire organization of designers devoted to the time streams alone. Just your suggestion to call him now, in order to avoid an excruciating energy signature test is futile. I wouldn’t know where to start. Would you?”

  “I don’t know,” I snapped, frustrated. “He gave me the keepsaker and called it purpose, a ripple in the pond. That was about as clear as a mage.”

  “Did you open it?” Monty asked. “At least to see what this Sid person was trying to say?

  “No,” I said. “In fact, I still have it in one of my”—I patted my pockets—“in one of my…wait, here.”

  I pulled out the keepsaker box that Sid had given me.

  “Open it,” Monty said. “At least that way we can put this entire Sid topic behind us.”

  “The last time I tried to, I nearly sprained a wrist,” I said, handing the small box to Monty. “It was sealed tight. You try.”

  Monty examined the keepsaker closely, turning it in his hand and shook his head.

  “This is covered in runes particular to you,” he said. “Did you know that?”

  “Hello? Not a mage. My runic reading is basic at best, which is dangerous on a good day. How do you know?”

  “Some of these characters allude to a ‘Chosen of Kali’ who steps out of time,” Monty replied, still turning the box. “Sound like anyone you know?”

  “Okay, so it’s meant for me,” I answered. “Does it say there how to open it? Can you decipher that part?”

  “This wasn’t given to me,” he said, returning the box. “It’s quite possible this box is meant to be opened only by you.”

  “I’m not a mage,” I said. “I don’t know how to deal with these kinds of artifacts, except to put them in a pocket or on a shelf somewhere.”

  “When keepsakers were first created, they were unique to the person receiving them,” Monty said. “I’m sure the method of accessing this one will come to you at some point. In the meantime—”

  “The test?”

  “Indeed,” Monty said, looking around. “I will have to thank Calisto for providing us with this space.”

  We stood in an empty room. Every surface held intricate shimmering designs etched into the stone. The entrance, which was also the exit to the room, was sealed off with a section of vibrating blue energy.

  “Why couldn’t this place be built back home?” I asked, looking at the designs. “Not that I’m some expert in runic design.”

  “The closest anyone has ever come to building a sequence room on this scale is the ‘migraine room’ you experienced at Fordey. Even then, that room needed a catalyst.”

  I shuddered at the memory of visiting the migraine room.

  “This p
lace doesn’t have a Black Heart though,” I said, looking around. “And I don’t have a migraine trying to liquefy my brain.”

  “It doesn’t need one. Look at the designs again.”

  I stepped over to one of the many designs and examined it closely. Inside the groove, I saw small crystals which gave them their shimmering effect.

  “Are these crystals—?”

  “They would be the equivalent of the Black Heart ground to dust and then spread throughout this room.”

  “This room is easily ten times larger than the one in Fordey,” I said. “That would make the center gem—”

  “Roughly ten feet across,” Monty said. “If it were concentrated in that form, it would be lethal. Like this,”—he waved an arm around the room—“it maintains its power without overloading the subject.”

  “The subject. Which would be me in this case.”

  “Precisely,” Monty said, pointing to the floor. “Please stand in this circle. Whatever you do, do not leave the circle.”

  I put the keepsaker back in a pocket, and stood in the circle he indicated in the center of the floor. It was a slightly raised area, roughly four feet in diameter, covered in seven concentric circles, and interlaced with more runic designs.

  “Fine, let’s get it over with,” I said. “Where’s Peaches?”

  “You won’t need your creature for this,” Monty said, touching parts of the circle around my feet. “You aren’t in imminent risk, at least not to my knowledge.”

  “I call excruciating pain a high-risk situation.”

  “It can’t be helped. Besides he’s currently indisposed.”

  “He’s stuffing his face somewhere, isn’t he?”

  “Kitchen,” Monty said, somewhat distracted as he paced the circle. “Calisto is providing him and her mammoth bear with food.”

  “Of course, the traitor would leave me for meat. He has a one-track stomach.”

  “He doesn’t need to be here and it’s best if he isn’t. Your creature may think you’re in danger and try to save you.”

  “Can’t have that happening. Depriving me of the agony would be unacceptable.”

  “Indeed,” Monty said with a nod. “It would also take time. Priming this room is a complicated process. One I don’t wish to repeat.”

  “Is it still night, or have three weeks passed?” I asked. “Time is crazy in this place.”

  “Only for us,” Monty said. “Since we are not native to this plane, I do think that time flows differently here for us. The sooner we conduct the test, the better.”

  “For you.”

  “Stop pouting,” Monty answered, standing in the middle of the room. “This will only be excruciating for a few moments…I think.”

  “Your certainty instills me with so much confidence. I’m just brimming with anticipation at how fun this will be.”

  “There are variables,” Monty said, motioning for me to stand in the center. “Chief among them, your curse and being a non-mage.”

  “When you went through this,” I said, moving to stand over the specific runes he pointed out, “how bad was it?”

  “It was…unpleasant,” he said after a pause. “At least what I could remember.”

  “How long will this thing take?” I asked. “I may have other things on my schedule today.”

  “Such as?”

  “I was thinking of having a no anesthesia root canal followed by having my fingernails removed with some pliers,” I deadpanned. “Nothing major, just a splash of evening torture to cap things off.”

  “I’ll make sure to clear the schedule, then,” he answered. “You may also want to look into that dental trauma.”

  “I don’t have dental trauma, I just dislike dentists with a passion,” I said. “So do my teeth. It’s a mild case of PTSD.”

  “Since when have you had post-traumatic stress disorder?”

  “Post Traumatic Stress of Dentistry…not as bad, but I feel scarred or something.”

  He reached into a pocket, pulled out a small case, and handed it to me.

  “Or something, indeed,” Monty said. “You’ll need this. Put it in before the third ring is filled, or your dental nightmares will become a reality as you grind your teeth to dust.”

  I took the small case and opened it. Inside, was a mouthpiece, similar to those worn by boxers when they fought. This one appeared to be industrial strength, and was designed to cover both upper and lower sets of teeth.

  “Really, Monty,” I said, closing the case. “You shouldn’t have. Does this mean we’re going steady?”

  “If by steady, you mean the steady decline of your mental capacities, then yes.”

  “How long?” I asked. “Seriously.”

  “Not long,” he answered, heading to the door. “Remember to stay in the circle, or we have to reset and do it again.”

  “I won’t be leaving the circle,” I said. “We aren’t doing this again.”

  “Hopefully we’ll have some conclusive results…if you survive the process.”

  I stared at him.

  “Get out.”

  TEN

  Monty headed to the doorway, pressed his hand on the wall next to the door, and stepped through the blue energy field.

  “For the record,” I said, “the fact that you’re out there while this test is going on doesn’t make me feel any better.”

  “I know,” Monty said. “The energies released during this process are volatile. Remember when I said we all vibrate at a specific frequency?”

  “Vaguely, I start tuning you out when you get Zillerfied.”

  “Well, my presence in there with you would negate the test and possibly put us all at great risk,” Monty answered as he gestured. “The outcome could damage the Keep, something I’m sure you’re averse to being a part of.”

  “Extremely averse,” I said. “Calisto looks dangerous. Let’s not piss her off, thanks.”

  “Very well,” he said. “Are you ready?”

  “To go through an unknown amount of excruciating pain for an unspecified period of time?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do I look ready to you?” I asked. “Just begin.”

  He gestured one more time. I made sure I was standing inside the circle. The blue section of energy grew opaque. I could still make out his silhouette, and saw him raise an arm. The next moment, he slammed a hand into the wall of energy and yelled something unintelligible.

  For a few seconds, nothing happened. I was about to tell him that his test was broken, when the runic designs etched into the walls blazed with blue energy. The room thrummed with power as the energy flowed down the walls and into the floor.

  I stood on the circle, a cold sweat covering my brow as I noticed the energy creeping closer to where I stood. It was the same feeling of dread as hearing the whirr of the dentist drill as it slowly approached. Clearly, I had a dental trauma.

  The temperature of the room dropped. After a few seconds, I could see my exhalations as it entered Arctic meat locker conditions. The outer ring of the circle filled with energy, and a jolt ran through my body. It started off subtly, then ratcheted up to extreme pins and needles, moments later.

  “This…is not fun!” I yelled, as the current of energy ran through my legs. “Definitely not…fun!”

  “Conserve your energy, Simon,” Monty called out. “Each ring that fills will increase the discomfort. You may want to focus on remaining within the circle.”

  I tried to move my legs and realized they were rooted to the center of the circle.

  “Like I’m going anywhere,” I muttered. “I’m stuck in this circle.”

  “That means it’s working. Not much longer now.”

  “We are going to need to discuss time frames when this is over,” I said. “I think we have a different understanding of…AHH!”

  “That would be the second ring,” Monty said calmly. “I’d refrain from speech at this point. Please insert the mouthpiece.”

  I wanted to answer, bu
t my jaw started to clench. I quickly put in the mouthpiece as the energy in my body increased. So far, everything above my waist was still mobile, barely, but I could feel the energy creeping up my spine. It started with a jab in my lower back, which quickly became a muscle spasm, followed by a searing sensation barbecuing my midsection.

  “Oh….shit,” I mumbled through gritted teeth. “This is going to be bad.”

  The third circle filled with energy.

  A spike of ice drove itself through the top of my head and into my brain, giving me the worst case of brain freeze in recorded history. The energy that was slowly creeping, stood and sprinted up my spine, slamming me in the base of my neck to meet the ice spike drilling down.

  A migraine of epic proportions spread through my skull, partially blinding me. At this point, all I could do was groan in pain as I noticed the fourth circle slowly filling with energy. Tears streamed down my cheeks and ears.

  Something was wrong. Even through the haze of pain, I had the strangest thought. Since when did I start crying from my ears? I struggled to raise my hand to the side of my head. It came away bloody.

  That can’t be good.

  The fourth circle filled and I lost all sight to the pain. It gripped my body and squeezed, a vise of agony and delirium. For a moment, the pain overwhelmed me and I blacked out.

  “Hello, Splinter,” a familiar voice whispered. “This looks invigorating.”

  “Ka…Karma?”

  “It’s been a while.”

  “Before you get slaphappy, I didn’t press my mark.”

  “I know,” she said. “It’s possible you’re imagining this. Your grip on reality seems to be tenuous these days.”

  “My grip is just fine, it’s reality that’s acting shaky.”

  “Probably more than usual, lately.”

  “Wouldn’t even know where to begin,” I said. “How are you even here?”

  “Where you go…I go.”

  “Now you sound like Peaches,” I replied. “Why can’t I see you?”

  “Right now, you can’t see…in more ways than one.”