Requiem: A Montague & Strong Detective Novel (Montague & Strong Case Files Book 13)

by Orlando A. Sanchez

  I followed her gaze, wondering the same thing.

  FIFTEEN

  Monty stood still.

  “The answer, Tristan,” Roma said still immobile. “Reply, or forfeit the audience.”

  From his expression, I could tell he was upset. There were certain topics he avoided, and then there was the topic of Roxanne. Bringing that up was like running through a minefield, blindfolded, at night. You didn’t know how far you’d get before something was blasted off, but it was guaranteed.

  “I’ve known Roxanne for many years,” Monty said. “She knows how I feel about her.”

  “Does she?”

  “Yes. I’ve risked my life for her, more than once.”

  Roma smiled and gestured, disappearing the golden star. Monty raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed.

  “That’s not the same as expressing it,” Roma replied, taking a few steps forward. “You were willing to risk bodily harm on the skywalk at Haven, even when you suspected it was a trap.”

  “She was in danger.”

  “It’s a simple question, Tristan. Why not?”

  “The last person I expressed my affection for was taken from me,” Monty said, his expression hard. “It will not happen again.”

  “What happened to your mother is not your fault,” Roma said, gently. “You were a child.”

  “What happened to his mother?” I asked under my breath. “He’s never shared that.”

  “That is for him to share with you,” Jean said. “Ask him one day.”

  “I don’t see how my response to this question is pertinent to the matter at hand,” Monty replied, turning to Jean. “You, of all people, know the answer to that question.”

  “I’m not the one who needs to know it,” Jean said. “The rules stand for a reason. Answer or forfeit the audience.”

  Monty stared hard at the Auer. For a brief second, I thought he was going to turn around and walk back to the Dark Goat. A flash of anger flitted across his face—but then he took a deep breath and let it out.

  “Fear,” Monty said after a moment. “I will not risk losing her. Expressing my feelings or emotions will cause her to alter her behavior. This in turn can expose her to danger she will not be prepared to face.”

  “You underestimate her abilities,” Roma said. “Roxanne is a powerful sorceress.”

  “I have never underestimated her abilities,” Monty said, still looking at the Auer. “Words have power. You feel she is my vulnerability? Yes, she is. So is my uncle; so is Simon. Anyone close to me”—he glanced at me—“anyone within the very intentional small circle of my family is at risk. I will protect them from those who would attack. If need be, I will unleash my complete wrath and tear this plane asunder to keep them safe, but I will not subject them to undue danger. Being close to me is enough.”

  “You feel that justifies keeping your feelings from Roxanne?” Roma asked. “You don’t think she needs to hear the words?”

  “Yes it does, and no she doesn’t,” Monty said. “She knows my feelings, and that is all that matters. No words can convey the depth of my emotion for her. And I believe that now, in accordance with the rules of the duel, I have answered the question posed. The matter is closed.”

  Monty crossed his arms and stared at the Auer. Roma looked like she still had more to say, but the Auer shook her head. Roma nodded and motioned with one hand. The blue beams of the Archive Guard shifted to a deep green. The Auer turned and started walking.

  “This way, please,” Jean said. “You have your audience.”

  We followed her into the green beam. One moment we were in the park, and the next we were in a large lounge area surrounded by immense, rune-inscribed wooden bookcases. I looked around, taking in the area. The book cases were easily forty feet tall and twice as wide. They were arranged in rows that seemed never ending. I walked to one end of the closest bookcase and saw more rows.

  The lounge area was a series of small desks, large sofas, a few wingback chairs, and a counter holding fresh fruits and water. It was a well-lit area, brighter than the surrounding space. When I looked down the rows of bookcases I noticed other pockets of light spaced out every thirty bookcases or so: small oases of rest in the desert of books we stood in.

  “How big is this place?” I asked, looking around again. “This can’t all be on this plane. Really, why haven’t you gone digital? You could probably fit the bulk of this information on a few Fugakus and call it a day.”

  “This is my reception area,” Jean said. “Information storage is several levels below us. We have a total of ten-thousand Orions which can exceed one thousand exaflops to process the several million exabytes contained within them.”

  “Impossible,” I said, awestruck. “Something that fast hasn’t even been created.”

  “I know,” the Auer said. “Rest assured, we have several, and most of the information you see contained within these books has been duplicated electronically. But we aren’t here to discuss the Archive’s computing power and storage, are we?”

  She motioned for us to take a seat. She sat in one of the wingback chairs and waited.

  “No,” I said, “I need to find dragons, specifically the Balfour Enclave.”

  “Are you looking to test the power of Kali’s curse?”

  “No,” I said, about to explain, but stopping myself. “Wait, do you know why?”

  “What do you think?”

  “I think you already know,” I said. “Roma said you can’t see the future, but you know what has already happened. You know about my conversation with Shadow Company and why they called.”

  “I do,” Jean said with a nod. “Do you?”

  “According to Douglas, they need my help,” I said. “Rott wants vengeance and Douglas wants—I don’t know what Douglas wants. This is not a usual Shadow Company mission, or at least it wasn’t when I was there.”

  “You sound uncertain, why?”

  “Rott was dead, and now he’s not,” I said. “I’m not one to talk about people not dying—in fact, I should be the last person discussing this—but something is off about Rott still being among the living.”

  “His presence makes you uneasy?”

  “I left uneasy the moment I heard his voice,” I said. “It freaks me the hell out.”

  “Tristan, your thoughts?”

  Monty was deep in thought as he sat in one of the other wingback chairs. He held his steepled hands in front of his face and looked off into the distance before answering.

  “Rott’s motivations are simple to understand, at least on the surface,” Monty said. “He blames Simon for the loss he suffered and wishes to exact some measure of vengeance on both the dragons who killed his daughter, and the person he feels responsible for her death.”

  “Except he’s supposed to be dead,” I said. “He blew himself up with an entropy bomb. I saw him.”

  “You saw an explosion, we both did,” Monty replied. “We never saw what happened to his body.”

  “What body? How could there be a body after an entropy bomb goes off?” I asked. “The Kragzimik was torn apart and turned into atoms. I’m supposed to believe Rott survived that blast? No way.”

  “What about Douglas?” the Auer asked. “What are his motivations?”

  “Unknown,” Monty said. “It’s evident he dislikes Simon, but is not above using guilt tactics to manipulate him. I don’t understand his motivation, and that concerns me.”

  “As it should,” Jean said. “Like Roma mentioned, I’m not omniscient, nor can I foretell the future. I can predict outcomes based on past events, but all that is, is an educated guess.”

  “The present is formed in the past, and the present shapes the future,” Monty said. “Except when it doesn’t.”

  “Precisely, or rather imprecisely, put,” Jean said. “Simon, if I give you this information, will you still meet with Shadow Company?”

  “Yes,” I said. “I need to close this part of my past.”

  “And if I don’t?
”

  “I still have to do this,” I said. “Shadow Company doesn’t know how to take no for an answer. The next time they contact me, it won’t be polite. You don’t know these people; the first knock is soft, the second time they use C4.”

  “I’m somewhat familiar with their methods,” Jean said with a smile. “It comes with the position.”

  “Oh, damn,” I said, realizing she probably knew more about Shadow Company than I would ever know. “Sorry, I keep forgetting…”

  “Are you putting yourself in danger by providing this information?” Monty asked. “I’m certain we can try another method if this act endangers you.”

  “You could try,” Jean said, “but you won’t find the location you need before your meeting tonight.”

  “Not without your resources, no,” Monty agreed. “I respect your power and ability, but I,—we—have no wish to cause you…”

  “What he’s trying to say,” I interrupted, “is that we don’t want your helping us to come back and bite you in the ass. What if the dragons get pissed because you revealed their location?”

  “Simon,” Monty began, “this is the Auer. A modicum of respect is warranted.”

  “Exactly,” I said, focusing on Jean, “She’s the Auer. I bet she’s heard curse words we haven’t even discovered, right? Can you share some?”

  The Auer chuckled as she stood.

  “Follow me, please,” she said and started walking down one of the rows of bookcases. “I have a formidable Archive Guard and am not without my own defenses. If the dragons wish to pay me a visit of violence, they will not be disappointed.”

  “How would they even know?” I asked as we walked by several bookcases. “It’s not like we’re going to tell them.”

  “Yes, you will.”

  I stared at the Auer for a few seconds.

  “No, we won’t,” I said, letting the anger seep into my words. “That’s not who we are, especially if we know it would endanger you.”

  “Be that as it may,” Jean said, “you will reveal where you obtained your information. I will make certain of it.”

  At this point I could barely follow what she was talking about. I remained silent for all of three seconds out of respect.

  “What do you mean?” I blurted suddenly as we kept walking. “You want them to come here and roast you? Have you faced a dragon? They’re nice until they want to barbecue you to ash.”

  She stopped walking and pointed down one of the bookcases.

  “You let me worry about that,” Jean said, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Remember, dragons, like any other powerful being of magic, only respect one thing…”

  “Power,” I finished. “They respect power.”

  “Correct,” she said. “You need to go to the Balfour TINY and speak to Gant. Tell him, and only him, that Magnus would like a word. He will facilitate the rest.”

  “The tiny what?” I asked. “Are we shrinking now?”

  “The TINY is where you’re going to need to go.”

  “We need to go tiny? Am I the only one not understanding here?”

  “Yes,” Monty said. “Let her finish.”

  “There you will meet Gant. You will speak to him.”

  “Are we looking at another duel?” I asked. “Just want to know what to expect.”

  “You’re dealing with dragons,” Auer said. “Expect the unexpected. Be wary. When they place an arm around your shoulder to befriend you, always look for the concealed dagger. Do not trust them. Always remember that, to them, you are insignificant—a tool to be used and discarded. If Magnus wants to meet the slayer of his enclave sister, it is only to determine how best to remove you from existence.”

  “That’s a cheerful thought. Thanks for that.”

  “You’re welcome,” Jean said, then turned to Monty. “As for you, stop being such a mage. Get over yourself. Go tell that woman how you feel, before you lose the opportunity.”

  I had never seen Monty turn that particular shade of red before. He struggled for a few seconds to find the words, before composing himself.

  “Thank you,” he said with a slight nod. “I will certainly take that into consideration.”

  “You do that,” the Auer said, pointing again. “That will take you back to your vehicle. Once there, you will have the location you need. Come visit me when you’re not pressed for time.”

  “We will,” Monty said and headed down the row bookcases. “Thank you, again.”

  I watched him take a few steps and then disappear in a blue flash.

  “Is that a teleportation bookcase?” I asked warily, eyeing the bookcase. “I’m not a big fan of teleportation. Maybe I could just go back the way we came?”

  The Auer laughed.

  “Your bonds are reconciled; teleportation should not be an issue for you, unless you make it one,” she said, gently pushing me by the shoulder. “One more thing: please be vigilant with Tristan.”

  “What? Why?”

  “I accepted his answer to the duel question because that is what he believes,” the Auer said. “That doesn’t mean it’s the truth. You need to find out the true answer.”

  “This is Monty you’re talking about,” I said. “I think I’d rather take my chances fighting the dragons—unarmed.”

  “You underestimate your power,” the Auer said, as a soft blue glow flashed across her eyes. “You are a shieldbearer.”

  “I know. It means I have to keep him safe.”

  “Yes, but that is not your only function,” the Auer said, tapping my chest. “Did no one inform you? A shieldbearer does not only protect his charge; he protects all those around him. Your ability is warding, like the first light of dawn after a night of darkness and death. The same must be said for your presence.”

  “That is completely unclear,” I said.

  “Right now it is, yes,” she said, continuing the gentle not-so gentle shove out of her library. “It won’t always be. Get to Tristan’s truth and it will begin to make sense.”

  I was about to answer when she gave me one last shove.

  The world disappeared in a blue flash. When I could see again, I was standing next to the Dark Goat. Monty and my hellhound were already inside. My stomach rumbled, but surprisingly, that was the extent of my discomfort.

  I jumped into the Dark Goat, and started the engine, revving it for a second before letting it settle into its familiar purr.

  “Did she give you the information?” Monty asked.

  I was about to say no, when the location of the Balfour meeting place became clear in my mind. It was the kind of memory that lingered, like some odd deja vu. I knew exactly where we needed to go.

  “Yes,” I said with a nod. We still had several hours before our meet tonight. “I know exactly where it is.”

  Monty nodded as I put the car in gear and sped off.

  SIXTEEN

  We crossed over the 59th Street Bridge and headed back downtown.

  The Balfour TINY was a three-story brownstone located at 135 West Broadway, in the heart of Tribeca. I parked the Dark Goat and stood outside the pink building, looking at the facade.

  “It’s pink,” I said as Monty got out. I held the door for my hellhound, Sprawler DeSprawl, as he stretched his way out of the car. “This building is…very pink.”

  I placed a hand on the roof of the Dark Goat and locked it.

  “I believe the color is called rose,” Monty said, stepping to the door of the restaurant located on the ground floor. “This is a pastel shade in the pink family.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Pantone,” I said, staring at him. “I’ll stick with pink.”

  “Are you certain this is the place?”

  “What do you mean am I certain? Didn’t she tell you, too?”

  “If she had, why would I ask?”

  “Good point,” I said, nodding and searching my memory. “This is the place, but I don’t think we’re going to find any Balfours here. I mean, it has charm, but upscale this is not.”
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  “Let’s not be fooled by appearances,” Monty said. “For all intents and purposes, you and your creature look like an average man and his dog. We both know that is far from the truth.”

  “Yes, we are both way above average,” I said, patting Peaches’ head. “It’s actually not that hard to see.”

  “I’d say one of you is above average in ability, and the other, above average in his capacity to induce migraines,” Monty said. “I’ll leave you to figure out which is which.”

  “I’ve never heard of this place before,” I said, looking around the entrance. Everything was turned off and the restaurant looked closed for business. “What kind of name is TINY?”

  “A small one,” Monty said, moving to the door and locating a barely visible rune. “Here.”

  “Was that mage humor?” I asked. “Because that almost sounded droll. Did the schism activate your inner comedian?”

  “I don’t even know the meaning of the word,” Monty said, pressing a sequence of runes. “TINY stands for Temporal Interstitial Neutral Yard. Think of the Randy Rump as a portal to another location—that is what a TINY is. This one happens to lead to the Balfour Enclave. There.”

  The runes on the door flashed with orange light for a half a second before disappearing. The lock mechanism unlocked with an audible click as Monty pushed the door.

  We stepped into a large dining area, complete with fireplace. A large bar dominated one side of the floor. Several people were seated there, enjoying drinks and engaging in conversation. The main dining area was filled with small round tables.

  Patrons sat at the tables, most of them couples. The first thing that made me realize this place was different was the lack of attention. No one gave us a second glance. Everyone was completely immersed in their conversations.

  I could understand not looking at Monty or me, but ignoring a hellhound? It took me a few seconds to adjust to the feeling of normalcy. Monty motioned to the bar with his chin.

  The bartender was a short man, broad around the shoulders, who looked like he spent plenty of time in the gym. Actually, he looked like he spent plenty of time lifting the gym. He was cleaning a glass with a large chamois.