Lost Runes: A Montague & Strong Detective Novel

Lost Runes A Montague & Strong Detective Novel Orlando A. Sanchez Contents About the Story Quotation Dedication ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN ELEVEN TWELVE THIRTEEN FOURTEEN FIFTEEN SIXTEEN SEVENTEEN EIGHTEEN NINETEEN TWENTY TWENTY-ONE TWENTY-TWO TWENTY-THREE TWENTY-FOUR TWENTY-FIVE TWENTY-SIX TWENTY-SEVEN TWENTY-EIGHT TWENTY-NINE Author Notes Special Mentions About the Author Bitten Peaches Publishing ART SHREDDERS Acknowledgements Contact Me Thank you About the Story What some call lost, others call hidden. By returning to the foundations of the magical sects, Monty and Simon must locate one of the main sources of magic. The lost runes. There’s only one problem. The runes were never lost—they were hidden, kept away from mages and humanity because of the mind-numbing destructive power they contain. The Keepers of Arcana, who hid them, want them to remain that way. They will destroy anyone who tries to harness their power—starting with Tristan Montague. Now, Monty and Simon must find a way to unleash and control the power of the lost runes, accelerate Monty’s ability, avoid being disintegrated by the Keepers and pull all this off without obliterating, well…everything. “The most precious things are always invisible; they are always kept hidden.” ― Sunday Adelaja "All information belongs to everybody all the time. It should be available. It should be accessible to the child, to the woman, to the man, to the old person, to the semiliterate, to the presidents of universities, to everyone. It should be open…” —Maya Angelou Dedication To the keepers of the secrets, to those who hold the whispers in the shadows of the night as something precious. This is for you. ONE I stood across the street from the Moscow and looked up. Dawn was fast approaching, which would make the damage easier to see. Blue energy crackled on the building’s surface, running up and down its length. I thought taking the practice session across the street to the 14th Street park would minimize any collateral damage. I was wrong. I should’ve realized I was dealing with a mage—and, even though she was young, minimizing collateral damage doesn’t exist in their vocabulary. “Are you sure she had something to do with this?” I asked, examining the large, gaping, frost-covered hole in the side of the building. “We do have more than a few enemies who are capable of this kind of damage.” Monty, who was standing next to me, gave me a look that clearly said: You must be joking. He turned back, narrowing his eyes and looking at the newly perforated Moscow. He slowly shook his head and frowned. “That may be true,” he said, “but the damage, while extensive, was not aimed at our home. That, and the fact that a displeased Olga is currently standing in the entrance of the building, looking our way, seems to indicate this may have something to do with my young apprentice.” “That and the ice everywhere?” “Well, there is that,” he said. “Fortunately the structural integrity of the building seems intact. We won’t have to evacuate anyone.” “I don’t know,” I said. “Looking at Olga, I may want to evacuate the immediate area. It was so fast, I didn’t even see it happen.” “I’m sure Olga saw and felt it,” Monty said, still focused forward. “I am surprised her power has advanced this much.” “You haven’t really been teaching her much,” I said. “Could be you missed her power increase because you’ve been distracted. Verity has been keeping us busy.” “Indeed,” Monty admitted, still looking at the building. “However, I have been remiss in my duties as her instructor. I knew her power was increasing; I just didn’t expect her to start creating new exits in the building.” “What did you expect?” I said. “She’s a kid with power, more power than she knows what to do with. She’s going to try using that power. Actually, I’m surprised the building is still standing. She has more self-control than some adults, present company included.” He gave me a look and then turned back to focusing on the building. “I expressly forbade her any major casts while inside the building,” Monty said, glancing behind us. “It was a clear instruction.” “Forbade her? Really?” I said. “It must be a mage thing, then.” “How so?” “It’s the Wet Paint Syndrome.” “I’ve never heard of this Wet Paint Syndrome,” Monty said. “Elaborate.” “If you ever see a bench or a wall with a Wet Paint sign, it won’t last five minutes before there are fingerprints somewhere on the wet paint. Never fails.” “How is that related to anything we are discussing?” “Well, every time I hear about something that’s forbidden in the magical world, there is always that one mage who can’t resist trying to use that same forbidden thing. You know, like lost elder runes.” “That is not the same thing at all,” he said with a huff. “The lost runes cannot remain hidden forever. What if someone with evil intent finds them?” “What if someone with evil intent only finds them because a curious mage uncovers them?” I said. “Some things need to be classified; some things need to remain hidden. Don’t you think?” “No, I do not,” Monty said. “Information like the elder runes should be available to mages. Much good can come from the dissemination of ancient knowledge.” “Even if that knowledge consists of world-ending runes of power?” “I am a pragmatist,” he answered. “I don’t believe I am the only one searching for the elder runes. You heard Albert—it was my uncle Dex who stopped him when he was close to locating them. “Are these blood runes, too?” I asked, concerned. “If they are, you should walk away now.” “Not to my knowledge,” Monty said. “These runes require a different catalyst—power. Even unto his death, Albert was looking for them. His sole pursuit was power.” “It was,” I said. “Which is probably why they should remain hidden.” “At the very least, she seems to have followed my instruction about not casting inside