“Signing my death warrant with Roxanne?” I said. “No way is she going to let you leave. Can you even cast safely?”
“The most dangerous weapon a battle mage possesses is his mind,” Monty answered, tapping his temple. “How many times must I demonstrate this to you?”
“You just suffered a schism. Isn’t that kind of serious in the mage world? Doesn’t your brain need a break? I know mine does.”
“A schism, when severe, is a cause for concern, but I’ve mostly recovered from my episode,” Monty answered. “Barring some insignificant side effects, I’m good as new.”
“Insignificant side effects, like?”
“Nothing major,” Monty said. “Possible miscasts, orbs being stronger than intended—that sort of thing. Nothing serious.”
“That all sounded serious.”
“Nothing to be overly concerned about,” Monty said. “I’m practically fully recovered.”
“Does Roxanne share this opinion?” I asked, looking around. “Judging from the security teams downstairs and upstairs, the runes on this floor creating a null zone, plus the fact that your room is a glorified cell, I’d say she disagrees with your assessment.”
“Roxanne has always worried about my well-being, sometimes overly so.”
“You didn’t answer my question. Can you cast or is the tri-state area in danger when you start your little finger wiggling?”
“I don’t do finger wiggling, and you are aware I possess other methods of attack besides my orbs?”
“That’s what I’m scared of,” I said. “Next thing I know, you’re going to pull out your crybabies and wreak havoc all over the place.”
“The Sorrows,” Monty corrected. “Yes, I do use them, among other methods at my disposal. I don’t seem to recall hearing any complaints on their use when Evers was bent on testing your immortality.”
“I’m not complaining, it’s just that—”
“Yes?” Monty asked. “You don’t hear me mentioning your siphoning dark blade of destruction, do you?”
“That’s because my blade has the sense to keep quiet,” I snapped. “Your blades keen, wail, or do that moaning thing. It’s disturbing.”
“What’s this about? They’ve never disturbed you before,” Monty said. “It’s ‘wail,’ by the way.”
“Okay, listen,” I said. “The truth is, I haven’t fully recovered from Dex’s screaming mace-axe. Could you not use your moaning blades for at least two or three years? I’d really appreciate it, thanks.”
“My uncle used Nemain on you? That is quite the privilege. He only wields that when he’s serious.”
“Oh, he was serious, trust me. Seriously trying to scare me to death.”
“You must tell me why, and how that went. Did you know the Morrigan herself cursed that weapon? It’s quite lethal. Drives whoever uses it mad with prolonged use. Typical of her curses.”
“That actually explains so much about Dex,” I said. “How often has he used it?”
“Not very, like I said; he must think highly of you to unleash Nemain,” Monty said with a slight smile. “He doesn’t just whip out his weapon for anyone. Either he was quite upset or terribly concerned.”
“I’d say a mix of both,” I answered. “He was busy defending the gate he had created to the Golden Circle, and wanted to make sure I was ready to bring you back.”
“The fact that he sent you, no offense intended, is surprising,” Monty said. “I was in the midst of a schism. If I had lost control, I could have harmed you, or worse.”
“None taken. Dex is full of surprises,” I said. “Most of them scary and heart-stopping.”
“Indeed,” Monty said. “I suppose it makes sense, you being my shieldbearer.”
“Not just yours,” I said. “Kali gave me an upgrade.”
“Upgrade? Is that code for another curse?”
“Do your squinty thing, you’ll see. Apparently it’s easy to see now.”
“Really?” Monty said, narrowing his eyes at me. “I saw your signature had been unraveled, but I didn’t notice…Oh, I’d say that is a considerable upgrade, yes.”
“She said I’m now the Marked of Kali,” I said. “It’s suppose to warn off enemies.”
“Really? Because this mark of hers will only signal that you are a target to be eliminated. Your potential power has increased significantly.”
“I know,” I said. “Not exactly the benefit I was expecting.”
“You knew this and still accepted the mark?”
“She told me this after giving me the mark,” I said. “Not like I had much of a choice. Besides, what do you suggest I should’ve done? Hey, Kali, goddess of death and destruction, possessor of a short temper, no thanks on the new mark? I’m good, thanks.”
“That would have been a bad idea,” Monty answered. “She’s not known for her pleasant disposition.”
“You think?” I said. “Anyway, I’ve had enough of screaming and sobbing blades to last me several lifetimes. Keep your crybabies sheathed for the time being, at least until my post-traumatic sword distress eases up.”
“It’s simply fascinating Dex would use that weapon on you,” Monty replied. “The fact that you survived facing it is astounding. My uncle, when using that blade, is known as the—”
“Harbinger, I know,” I finished. “The Harbinger of Destruction.”
Monty nodded.
“He’s infamous with that thing. The mere mention of his name would send hardened soldiers into a panic. Scores of men would flee before him—those who weren’t driven mad by fear, of course.”
“Of course. So glad your uncle unleashing his screaming, madness-inducing death axe on me has become the highlight of your day,” I said, pointing to the bed. “Can you get back in bed?”
“Out of the question,” Monty answered, putting on his jacket and straightening out his sleeves. “You must address this business with Douglas and the Shadow Company. For that, you will need assistance. Competent assistance. Now, how much time?”
“If Roxanne finds out you’re trying to esca—I mean, discharge yourself—I would say exactly ten seconds after she finds out.”
“It’s good to see you haven’t acquired a proper sense of humor in my absence. How long?”
“Monty, look,” I said, holding up a hand. “I really appreciate the gesture. I do. But this is a horrible idea. Have you even tried casting since the schism? For all you know, your orbs could explode
