Homecoming A Montague & Strong Detective Novel

by Orlando A. Sanchez

  “I said I’d try diplomacy, and so I shall,” TK said with a sigh. “If you go back and tell Oliver to cease and desist from this course of action before we are forced to stop him, I’ll allow you to leave here with your lives.”

  “Cease and desist?” Gideon sneered. “You’ll allow? There are three of us. You overestimate your abilities, mage. ”

  “No, you just underestimate them,” TK answered, her voice cold enough to cause frostbite in the Sahara. “I will not make this offer again.”

  “You think one rogue mage of questionable ability and some broken-down detective with a mutant dog pose a threat to us?” He scoffed and motioned to the Ghosts next to him. They spread out more but kept their triangle formation.

  I made sure my mala bracelet was accessible. I could draw Grim Whisper in less than a second. Peaches was anxious to chomp on all three of them. Somehow, I doubted we would get the chance to do anything.

  “No, Gideon. It’s clear you don’t understand the threat you’re facing.” I moved away from TK because I understood something Gideon and the Ghosts didn’t.

  Maybe it was the curse giving me immortality, or the times I’d sat down with Ezra. It could’ve been the many times I’d dealt with Karma or faced impending doom with Monty. In that precise moment, something became staggeringly clear: Gideon and the Ghosts were already dead. They just hadn’t gotten the memo.

  TK’s eyes were glowing green now. Black energy swirled around her body. A mini tornado of destructive chaos churned up the wooden floor around her. TK looked up without raising her head and put her palms together in a form of prayer. A smile, almost gone but no less lethal, played on her lips.

  “Say when.”

  EIGHTEEN

  GIDEON UNLEASHED THE flame orb as he stepped forward, drawing his handcannon. The Ghosts beside him also released their orbs and followed Gideon’s lead, drawing their guns as well. I pressed the bead on my mala bracelet and activated the shield.

 

 

  Peaches took two bounds and blinked out. I rolled to the side and drew Grim Whisper. I took aim at the Ghost on the right. Peaches blinked in and bore down on the Ghost on the left. We were both too slow.

  TK spread her hands and whispered something under her breath. The floor erupted orange as a wave of black energy engulfed the incoming orbs and slammed into the Ghosts. The two Ghosts flanking Gideon disintegrated into clouds of dust as the wave hit them.

  Gideon managed to gesture and form a shield as his handcannon turned to dust. The shield lasted all of two seconds before it was undone. The wave coalesced into an orb and punched a hole through his chest, tossing him against the far wall.

  I stood with my mouth open as I looked on in awe. TK dissipated the black energy around her and approached Gideon. I followed close, but not too close, in case she was still in a ‘destroy everything that breathes’ setting.

  “You won’t…” Gideon managed between gasps. Every breath was a wheeze and ended with a wet sound. He was bleeding internally, and I really didn’t want to ask what spell she used on them. “…stop us.”

  Peaches nudged close to me.

 

 

  We both kept our distance as she knelt down next to Gideon.

  “What does Oliver want?” She placed a hand on what was left of Gideon’s chest. “What is he after?”

  “What’s rightfully his, ours: the world,” he said, spitting up blood. “He will…unite all of the sects into…into one.”

  I was about to ask him how Oliver planned to do that, but TK closed his eyes as he stared off into space. He was gone. She stood and crossed to the entrance. She waited for me at the threshold.

  Once we were past, she gestured and sealed the Danger Room behind us. Angry black runes covered the door. I didn’t need to decipher them to know they were lethal.

  “What was that spell? What did you do? You just unmade them.”

  “A negation wave,” she said without turning as we headed down the corridor. “We must hurry. I don’t think Oliver will stop sending Ghosts. For some reason, he wants Tristan. We need to get to the Sanctuary as soon as possible.”

  We headed down several corridors until I saw the familiar form of LD waiting for us near a large door.

  “The Ghosts?”

  “They refused to listen to reason. I even gave them an opportunity to return to Oliver…who seems to have plans of taking over the world.”

  “How does he plan on doing that?”

  “Something about uniting the sects. The Ghost wasn’t in the best of conditions to elaborate, but it didn’t sound good.”

  “I have some bad news.”

  “The artifact?” TK said with urgency in her voice. “Did they reach it?”

  LD held up a hand. “Artifact’s fine. The room is sealed and still in stasis. No one can get in there. Except us.”

  “Where’s Monty?” I looked at his face and his eyes were filled with sadness. “What happened?”

  “He came out of the procedure intact. No internal damage thankfully and he’s still in his right mind.”

  “But? Damn it, LD, just tell me.”

  “The fact that he inhaled the obsidian ice made it easier to contain and remove.”

  “The ice in mist form was too potent.” TK put a hand on my shoulder. “I feared that might be the case.”

  “What are you talking about?” I reached for the door but LD held me back. “What are you doing?”

  “Preparing you. He’s not the same Tristan you remember. The obsidian ice has had some side effects.”

  “What are they? Is he hideously disfigured? Did he lose limbs?”

  “It will feel like that for him. He can’t cast or use magic.”

  “Shit.” I pushed open the door and saw Monty standing against the far wall. He looked thin, frail, and older. If I looked closer, I could still see the mage beyond the years. I caught myself staring and stopped.

  “That face you made…do I look that old to your young eyes?”

  “No, of course not. You don’t look a day over one hundred and fifty. Wait, did you just Jedi me?”

  “Judging from your reaction, I must look how I feel,” he said with half a smile. That reaction worried me more than the aging. Monty’s face wasn’t designed for smiling. Permanent scowl, yes. Smile, not so much.

  “What happened?” I couldn’t get over how old he appeared. “The mist aged you?”

  “Not exactly. We can discuss it on the way.”

  “On the way where? The only place you look like you should be going is a retirement home. I hear assisted living is quite comfortable…they even wipe your bum.”

  “I may not be able to cast my own magic, but I can still use it.” I noticed the thin bands of metal on each finger as he flexed his hands. “Don’t make me scorch you where you stand.”

  TK raised an eyebrow at LD. “You gave him the reservoirs? But I didn’t key them to his energy signature.”

  “I know. I did. He wasn’t doing well even after I tried a creative induction. I realized the obsidian ice blocked his access to magic. The reservoirs are keeping him alive.”

  “Wait, what happens when the reservoirs run out of magic?” I looked at Monty, concerned.

  “If I don’t have access to my magic by then, the Montague and Strong Detective Agency will need a shorter sign.”

  “We need to go.” TK gestured and a door materialized in the wall opposite us. “Where is Dex?”

  “He’ll meet us at the airport. He almost sounded relieved when we spoke.”

  “I can imagine. I hear the Morrigan has a voracious appetite. Can you get my vehicle? We’ll be right along. I need to have a word.”

  “Be delicate with the senior citizen.” LD chuckled and glanced over at Monty, who glared at him. “You know how cranky they can get.”


  LD left as Monty skewered him with mental daggers.

  “You tried to tether a Smith Bridge to my energy signature,” TK said matter-of-factly with her hands on her waist. “That would have ended badly had you tried to use it.”

  “Yes.” Monty straightened and stared into her eyes, which were thankfully not glowing green at the moment. “I felt you were a risk. I still feel that way but have realized that I may have been hasty in the execution of my concerns.”

  “Hasty is one word for it,” she said. “Arrogant and foolish would be another way to describe it.”

  “You’re volatile and vulnerable, TK.”

  “This is not news. I’ve chosen to have LD in my life, and yes, that makes me vulnerable. What you call volatility I call decisiveness.”

  “Your decisiveness is why I felt you were a liability and attempted the Smith Bridge.”

  She looked over at me and nodded. “Tell me, Tristan. What if something were to happen to Dex, or Simon, or even Roxanne?”

  Monty remained silent but looked away.

  “You’re more of a liability than I am. A megalomaniac is holding your father against his will. Your uncle makes me look stable and rational at times. Your closest friend is cursed by Kali, you seem to be allergic to intact buildings, and you’re in love with a hunted sorceress.”

  “Hunted sorceress? Who’s after Roxanne?”

  “You haven’t told him? And I’m the liability?”

  “She’s warded, as is Haven. No one and nothing can get close to her while I’m”—a fit of coughing interrupted his sentence — “alive.”

  “This brings me to your current state. You can’t cast anything beyond what’s in those rings”—she pointed at Monty’s hands—“which means your usefulness is limited. In addition, you’re aging at an accelerated rate. How much longer do you think you can function?”

  “Long enough to see my father free and in his rightful place as an Elder,” he answered, his voice as sharp as hers. “You will not prevent me from going to the Sanctuary.”

  “Oh no, we’re going to the Sanctuary, and we’re going to deal with Oliver. Once this situation is settled, and if you’re still alive, you and I will have a reckoning.”

  “Understood,” Monty said with a nod. “Your conditions?”

  “I’ve killed for less than what you attempted to do with your Smith Bridge,” she answered quietly. “Because of the regard in which I hold your uncle…blood and power.”

  “No, no, not understood,” I said. “You didn’t see what she did. She put her hands together and then whoosh—deathwave. She took out three Ghosts in a few seconds…with one spell.”

  “Blood and power,” Monty said, ignoring me. “When I get back from the Sanctuary… you will have your reckoning.”

  The throaty rumble of an engine cut through the tension. I looked outside and saw a 1970 Mercury Cougar Eliminator in glossy black and chrome waiting for us. The engine purred at me, and memories of the Goat rushed back.

  “Our ride is here,” she said, going outside.

  Monty and I stepped outside into darkness. We stood in a large empty parking lot. When I turned back, Fordey Boutique was gone. “Where are we? What time is it?”

  LD stepped out from the driver’s side and opened the door. TK gestured, and the air shimmered behind us, closing whatever entrance existed. She stepped to the driver’s side of the vehicle and got in.

  “We’re about five miles from Teterboro Airport.” LD motioned for us to get inside as he held the door. Monty got in first, followed by me. Peaches, the sprawler, got in last.

  “We’re in Jersey?” I looked around the area but saw no landmarks to indicate where we were. “Fordey is in Jersey?”

  “Not really.” LD closed the door behind him. “Fordey isn’t really anywhere, and it’s about five in the morning, give or take a few minutes. Ever since we installed the artifact, the boutique does some weird things to time.”

  “How long have we been in Fordey?”

  “Time is an elastic thing in the boutique. It gets compressed and stretched. Have you ever heard of Ziller?”

  “I’m familiar.” I really wanted to head-butt Ziller at this point, because all he gave me were headaches. “Monty may have mentioned his theories a few times.”

  “Ziller has some excellent theories on Quantum Runic Compression. I have a copy of Ziller’s laws of Quantum Entanglement.”

  “I heard that’s a rare one.” I was wary of jumping into this topic. Every time Ziller’s name came up, mages went fanboy on me and started trying to melt my brain.

  “It is,” LD continued, the excitement creeping into his voice. “Anyway, entanglement posits that time is a fluid construct in which different quantum particles effectively share an existence, even though physically apart. Which means the quantum state of each particle can only be described relative to other entangled particles.”

  “So all mages do speak this way.”

  “Wait,”—he lifted a finger—“Ziller went a step further. He added imaginary runic time to the entanglement and uncovered Quantum Runic Compression.”

  “LD, he isn’t a mage.” TK glanced back at me through the rear-view. “I doubt he’s as excited as you are about this subject.”

  “I just wanted to know how much time we spent in the boutique compared to out here.”

  “Boutique time, maybe a day,” LD said. “Real time, closer to a week. It’s hard to tell without a comparative analysis.”

  “A week? Because of the artifact?”

  LD nodded. “The effects of Fordey should help Tristan deal with the aging, since his body is still dealing with the environmental effects of being in proximity to the artifact in the boutique.”

  “And you thought I was bad,” Monty said under his breath when I sat back, slightly dazed from the conversation. “Wait until you meet Ziller.”

  My attention was suddenly diverted when Peaches tried to muscle me over for some more backseat real estate. I shoved him back, forcing him to move two or three inches.

 

  He growled in response and sat half on the floor and half on the seat.

 

 

 

 

 

 

  The engine roared as TK stepped on the gas, basking in the rumble. She glanced over at LD as he strapped in and adjusted his seatbelt. We shot out of the parking lot and onto the highway.

  “Who did you get to fly us over?” She adjusted the mirror and pressed her hand on the dashboard. Runes raced across the console as the engine settled into a low rumble. We raced along the highway, swerving around the minimal traffic.

  “RJ is flying us over in a G650ERX.”

  “RJ agreed to this? We couldn’t get Chris?”

  “Chris is off somewhere, and RJ insisted. I’m psyched.”

  “If that’s shorthand for psycho, then yes, I agree…I can’t believe you said yes to RJ.”

  LD nodded and rummaged through the glove compartment.

  “Yeah, can you believe it? This is going to be some flight.”

  “If by flight you mean hoping we don’t collide with a mountain or any large body of water, then yes, it will be ‘some flight.’ I swear, RJ will be the death of me yet.”

  “Why aren’t we flying out of a commercial airport?”

  “No commercial flight goes near the Sanctuary portal,” Monty said. “The only way to get near is a private flight, and a mage insane enough to go there.”

  “I’m guessing that rules out JFK.”

  Monty shook his head. “You plan on crating your hellhound?”

  �
�I don’t think they make titanium cages strong enough to hold him. Plus, all we need is for him to want a sausage midflight and blink into the passenger area looking for meat during dinner. That would go over well.”

  Monty looked out of the window for a moment, lost in thought. “Simon, I want you to do something for me.”

  “I’m not going to wipe your bum. I don’t care how old you’re getting. How old are you getting?”

  “Without direct access to my magic, my age will catch up to me in about a week. Possibly longer with these reservoirs”—he looked at the black rings on his fingers—“and if I manage to reach my true age, you’ll need a dustpan to have a conversation with me.”

  “Not a pleasant thought.”

  “Indeed. I need you to make sure my father gets out of the Sanctuary safely if we fail to stop Oliver.”

  I glanced up into the rear-view mirror and locked eyes with TK for a brief second.

  “How about you make sure he gets out okay? Can we go with that as plan A?”

  “Your word.”

  I looked into his aged face. His eyes burned with the same intensity I had always known, and I nodded.

  “Your father will leave the Sanctuary safely if we don’t stop Oliver.”

  “Thank you.” He rested his head back and closed his eyes. “That makes this next part easier.”

  I looked forward and caught LD’s attention. “Is this a SuNaTran vehicle? Reminds me of the Goat we lost.”

  “The Goat is a sweet ride.” He nodded in appreciation. “The Eliminator”—he tapped the dashboard lovingly—“is TK’s baby. It’s not SuNaTran, even though Cecil is good people. His vehicles weren’t strong enough for my TK.”

  “Not strong enough? His vehicles are tanks disguised as cars.”

  “I know, but TK can be rough on cars. This one can withstand both conventional and magical attacks.”

  “Our Goat was melted by a Ghost. He hit it with a black orb of nastiness and killed it.”

  LD nodded. “Sounds like an entropic dissolution. Did he hit it with a red orb first?”

  “The red orb bounced us all over the place, then he slammed it with that black orb of destruction.”