“We’ll have to revisit that at a later date,” Ezra answered. “We need to discuss the golem.”
“Sure, why don’t I put that in my planner? Should I pencil that in after I fix the Dark Council, or before?”
“I’d put it in the ‘things to do before I’m crushed’ section, if I were you,” said a voice behind me. “You were right, Ezra. He is exactly as you described him. I think he’ll do nicely.”
“Oh, great, now I sound like a pair of shoes,” I said, turning to face a short woman who stared at me with eyes reminiscent of Syght. Her irises were milky white, but she didn’t stumble around. “Speaking of shoes…where are yours? Wait a second—you’re blind?”
She wore a simple brown robe with golden runes inscribed across its surface. I noticed hints of red, blue, and green runes appear in the fabric as she moved toward us.
Her bare feet seemed to float slightly above the ground as she walked. Her deep crimson hair was pulled back in a tight bun and held in place with what looked like small daggers—small, lethal-looking daggers.
“He’s sharp, too,” the woman said with a small smile and a bow. “Nothing escapes you, Simon.”
“Like a butter knife,” Ezra added. “This is Orahjene, highest elder of the—”
“Red Mountain Sect,” Monty finished. “You’re an elemental mage.”
“Well met, Mage Montague of the Golden Circle,” Orahjene said with another bow. “Magus Bellum Ordaurum.”
“I don’t use that title any longer,” Monty answered. “We are not at war.”
“You are mistaken,” Orahjene answered. “We are always at war.”
“Okay,” I said, holding up a hand. “That’s our cue. Listen, Orajel, Orangina, or whatever your name is—”
“Orahjene, but you can call me Jen, if it’s easier to remember.”
“Sure, Jenny, now listen—”
“Jen or Orahjene,” she interrupted, her voice hard. “No one calls me Jenny anymore.”
“Sorry,” I said, surprised at her reaction. “Jen.”
“Simon,” Monty hissed, “this is an elder of one of the most ancient sects in existence—”
“Tristan, please, let him finish,” Jen said, raising a hand. “Please continue, Simon.”
“Yes, Tristan, let me finish,” I repeated. “It always starts this way. They hype you up with the, ‘Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You’re my only hope,’ line. Next thing you know some creature is trying to rip our faces off. Pass. Tell her, Monty—we pass. Whatever she’s selling, we’re not buying.”
“I deeply apologize, Elder,” Monty said with a bow. “Please forgive him. He’s young and still ignorant of this world.”
“Right, I’m the ignorant one,” I said. “I’m going to remember my ignorance when something wants to rip your arms off and beat you silly with them.”
Jen turned to Ezra with a nod.
“Yes, I agree with your choice, but I still need to see the core.”
“Are you certain they can withstand your examination?” Ezra asked, giving me a concerned look. “He is still inexperienced.”
“Examination? What examination? Who’s getting examined?”
“They will face Toson,” Jen answered. “I must be certain they can.”
“Very well,” Ezra said. “Who do you choose first?”
“Only him. The shieldbearer,” Jen said, pointing at me. “He will make the choice. The mage is ready, but will falter without the immortal. So, it is set. Let it be done.”
She turned and walked toward the lawn.
“Excuse me? What core? Who is Toson and what is she talking about? An examination? I’ve already had my annual physical.”
“Be still,” Ezra said, standing in front of me. “The Red Mountain sect is an elemental sect.”
“I gathered that,” I said, peeking around Ezra and looking at Jen, who had removed her robe to reveal what looked like a brown karate uniform underneath. “What is she doing?”
“She is going to task you with an urgent mission.”
“What did I tell you?” I said, glancing at Monty. “Help me, Obi-Wan. Never fails. Can I just say no?”
“No,” Monty and Ezra answered together. Ezra sighed and continued. “You haven’t earned the mission yet.”
“Is no one listening? I don’t want this mission. I want to go home and sleep for about a week. Why doesn’t she give this mission to Boobhead and Mulch or whatever their names are?”
“Your reluctance is precisely why she chose you,” Ezra answered. “This mission…this adversary, will be dangerous. Not only physically, but mentally—he will attack you in ways you’ve never been attacked before.”
“That’s what she means about my core?” I asked soberly.
“Yes, that is what this examination is.”
“By examination, does she mean like an in-depth interview? I can handle that.”
“Not exactly,” Ezra said, placing a hand on my shoulder. “The Red Mountain sect believes that the only way to know someone, truly know someone, is to engage in—”
“Excessive coffee drinking together?” I asked hopefully, knowing the real answer. “Let me guess, she doesn’t really drink coffee, does she?”
“Not really, no.”
“This is one of those fight to the death things, isn’t it?”
Silence.
“Right,” I said, cracking my neck. “At least that’s not much of an issue. It’s not like I stay dead.”
More silence.
“This place is in stasis,” Ezra explained. “Similar to what happens when you press your mark. Time stops, which means Kali’s curse—”
“No longer applies. I’m mortal in here. Wonderful. Hey”—I looked around at the serene garden and river—“there are worse places to end it, I guess.”
“The effects should be present by now.”
“That explains why my digestive agony is still present. Or it could be the whole ‘fight to the death’ thing.”
“I’m here for you, if that’s any consolation,” Ezra added.
“Are you serious? No offense, but that is the opposite of consolation,” I said, shaking my head. “Are there any rules, or am I going to get blasted by elemental runes the moment we begin?”
“No magic, no firearms. Only bladed weapons.”
Ezra waved a hand and produced a small, long case. He opened the lid and showed me the knives inside. They glistened with an internal light of their own. Both of the blades were identical. I had seen them before, in the hands of the Lucent who served Tartarus and tried to skewer me several times.
It was a pair of kamikira: god-killers.
FOURTEEN
“Thanks, but no thanks,” I said, pushing the case away slowly.
