Obsidian Son (The Temple Chronicles Book 1) (32 page)

He smiled as he spoke three words. “Your turn, Grimm.” The torches around us evaporated with a puff and I heard the strange horse-like neigh again. Then the sound of galloping hooves raced towards me from the sunset shadows. I heard Gunnar grunt as something slammed into him, knocking him completely across the clearing. But in the sudden lack of firelight, it was difficult for me to see clearly, even with the fading sunset, because the surrounding trees cast an army of shadows around us, and they still moved back and forth as if alive.

A place between worlds, the Minotaur had said. What was out there, and what were the shadows? A dark blur moved before me, and I leapt back onto the table, just missing a single gnarled horn from stabbing my thigh. Silky black feathers brushed my arm, and I leapt backwards off the table. I heard a heavy flap of wings as a huge silhouette rose up before me, and then it disappeared again. It was toying with me. I called Stoneskin around me before I consciously thought about it, just like I had against the gargoyles.

Panicked — but better protected — I swept the clearing with my eyes, trying to use my power to light up the clearing with fire so that I could see what the hell was attacking us. But my fire quickly flickered out, as if the darkness had simply swallowed it up. Before the light disappeared, I spotted Gunnar lying on his back, staring up at the sky, but he was breathing. I hissed at the Minotaur, not looking at him as the world plunged back into darkness. “This wasn’t part of the duel.”

“We each brought a pet. Don’t you like him? He’s rather territorial though, I must admit.” I heard something behind me only a second before I felt the impact knock me forward enough to blow the air out of me in a rush, the sound of crunching stone armor filling the clearing. I landed on my chest and rolled. I remained kneeling, hoping to use the sunset to outline my assailant while hiding my own silhouette from view. I hoped it had been using my silhouette to find me, and not that it had some seriously kickass night vision.

Then it suddenly appeared in front of me.

A horse the size of a Clydesdale pawed at the earth with a silver front hoof, fire tracing away from the ground in a smoky burn, helping me see it clearly for the first time. Its eyes were like blazing orange embers, and it was mostly covered in feathers like a peacock, but black with fiery red circles on the tips instead of the usual pretty turquoise. Similarly-feathered, monstrous, black and red-tipped wings flared out behind it, tripling its size, and more feathers flared out around its entire neck in a lion-like mane, quivering as it snorted at me.

One massively thick barbed-horn spiraled up from its forehead, looking more like a trio of horns braided together with tiny spikes curling off the sides like thorns on a rosebush. Then it surged forward. To say it was graceful was an understatement. It was so beautiful that I was frozen still in admiration as I watched the red-rimmed mane of feathers tug back against the force of its sudden movement. Its horn struck my chest, and my Stoneskin crunched before the aged bone. The pressure was immense, but just as suddenly, it stopped.

I opened my very brave eyes, which had somehow closed as it hit me, and stared into a silky smooth-haired face. The beast neighed at me, stomping an angry hoof, but didn’t bolt. Stupidly, I reached out a hand to pet the magnificent creature. Asterion and Gunnar both began to shout a warning, but stopped as my fingers brushed the snout. The feathers were just as smooth as they looked, but there was also regular velvety hair on its face. The eyes calmed as they watched me, and then it pulled its head away from my chest — as if apologizing — and snapped closed the red-tipped mane surrounding its head. I blinked, letting the stone slide away from my skin in sheets.

Asterion spoke. “It is finished. The book is yours.” He was somehow standing up, my restraining cords of power gone.

I blinked at him, lost in the feel of the creature’s fur beneath my fingers. “That wasn’t so bad.”

“Granted, I should have taken into account the myths involving unicorns.” Asterion muttered. “I should have remembered that they couldn’t harm virgins.”

I adamantly began to protest as Gunnar burst out laughing. “I am in
no
way a virgin! Of that I can assure you. Tell him, Gunnar”

The Minotaur smiled, reaching out a hand to help the werewolf stand. Instead of backing up my claim, Gunnar accepted Asterion’s assistance with an awed gaze as he stared upon the myth towering over him.

For future reference, I mentally noted that Gunnar was useless in a duel.

Asterion clasped a meaty arm around Gunnar’s shoulders. “That is where myth deviates from truth. You see, it’s not just a virgin that is immune to a unicorn’s wrath. It is also the last of a bloodline. It is just a coincidence that all of the documented survivors happened to be either a virgin, or both the last of their line
and
a virgin. It seems Grimm likes you.”

Grimm knelt before me like a servant to a king. I stepped back, unsure. “This isn’t really what I imagined a unicorn would look like.” I said.

Asterion chuckled. “No, but you are imagining the adapted stories of Pegasus. This is his brother, Grimm. Perseus never met him… lucky for him, I should say.” Until that moment, I had thought the unicorn and Pegasus were two different beasts, but didn’t want to flaunt my lack of knowledge. I had a reputation to uphold after all.

Asterion judged Grimm as he knelt with head bowed before me. “Grimm is obedient, and takes care of himself. All one must do is call him when in need, and he will appear out of any nearby shadow to help.” Just as quickly, Grimm suddenly disappeared. A single feather drifted down to the ground in his place. I picked it up, admiring the blazing red orb at the tip before carefully placing it in my pocket.

“What am I supposed to do with a horse?”

Asterion frowned. “You would be well advised not to demean his help. He is far more than a
horse
, as you just saw.” I nodded back, swallowing reflexively. “You beat me fairly, Master Temple. But why didn’t you simply battle me directly?”

“Sheer confidence in your superior ability to maim and murder, I assure you.” I replied grinning. “I have friends that need my help, and I couldn’t do that if I spent all my energy battling you directly. It was the path of the least consequences.” The Minotaur smiled at the compliment.

“One can’t die at the Dueling Grounds. You would have recovered from any injury in a day or so.
Any
injury…” He added with a grin.

I stared back in surprise. “Truly?” I asked, astounded.

“Truly.” Asterion smiled.

With knowledge like that, I wouldn’t have been so fucking stressed out about tonight, but I let it go with a heavy breath.
Woo-sah
, I rubbed my earlobe meditatively. “I would also like to add that your Karmic conversation with me hit a point that I couldn’t refute. So I tried the path that would be the least offensive. I incapacitated you, but didn’t hurt you directly. Hopefully Karma will remember that when it comes my way again.”

Asterion appraised me studiously. “How appropriate. You are, of course, correct. You would make an excellent student.”

I shook my head. “I would look terrible bald. Or fat. With both I would look positively ridiculous.”

Gunnar rolled his eyes. “Here.” Asterion handed me a book that I hadn’t seen him grab. “This is what you seek.” I accepted the aged leather tome from his hand without asking where he had grabbed it from, and tucked it away in my coat, noticing the picture I had drawn for him on the cover, and the faint smell of cold stone and snakes. Oddly familiar, but I couldn’t place why.

“Thank you.”

“Perhaps I should thank you, Master Temple. It has been in my care for so long now, and one can only hope that a better guardian was needed, and that is why I lost today.” Gunnar was still staring from one of us to the other, a stupid grin on his face.

“We must be leaving now, Asterion. I have dragons to face.”

“Of that I am certain.” He answered cryptically. Again, I wondered what the book was about, and what it had to do with dragons. He had said it was an original, but an original what? He turned to Gunnar. “It is nice to make your acquaintance,
Wulfric
. Perhaps the next time will be under a less stressful occasion.”

Gunnar smiled back. “It would be my pleasure.”

Then everything was suddenly gone, and we were left standing in the middle of a field, staring at each other. “You do lead the most interesting life, Nate.” Gunnar said, glancing around in surprise.

“Tell me about it. Come on. We have a nightclub to visit, but I need to chat with Peter first. You can take Tory home to change, and pick me up after. We’ll figure out something to do with Misha on the way.” We walked towards the car, the headlights blinding as I realized it was suddenly night. How long had we been gone?

Chapter 32

I
stumbled inside my shop, shouldering the door open wearily. Some of the lights were on. Peter must already be here. I headed back into one of the projection rooms, following both the light and the sound of epic music and dying screams. Ah, what a peaceful sound.

I nudged the door open to find Peter sitting before one of the screens, playing Gods of Chaos IV, leaning forward eagerly as if it would help against the dozen enemies he was battling. “Hey,” I said, falling down onto the couch beside him.

He started, but didn’t take his eyes off the game. “Sorry, didn’t hear you come in.” He gestured at the table to a full drink he had made. Another sat empty beside it. “Poured you one of your elixirs of life. Absinthe.”

“You will make a good wife someday, Peter.”

“Yeah, give me a minute. Almost killed him.” He continued playing, and I set down my satchel by the end of the couch, Asterion’s book resounding with a heavy
thunk
. “Yes! Eat it, Minotaur!” Peter crowed.

I pondered the screen as I sipped my drink, warmth blossoming in my stomach and throat. “He doesn’t really look like that, you know.”

Peter finally turned to face me. His eyes were red-rimmed, and he looked tired, or extremely hung over. “I didn’t even think about that. Here I was playing a video game against the Minotaur, and you fought him in real life tonight. I feel like an idiot. How did it go?”

I grunted, taking a deep gulp of my drink. “I survived, as you can see. I got what I wanted, and we parted on good terms. He was just fulfilling a promise he had made long ago.” I leaned back, sighing. “Works for me, I suppose.”

“Was it tough? I mean, he’s tough in the game, and in real life you said that Theseus was the only one to ever defeat him.”

“I didn’t fight him directly. I played his philosophy against him. Gunnar saw it all.”

“You took
Gunnar
? Why not me? I would have loved to see him! A real Minotaur!”

“
The
real Minotaur. And yes, I took Gunnar because I wanted backup.” I let the silence build between us until I saw Peter squirm a bit. “Backup I could trust.”

He looked at me then, cautious. “You don’t trust me?”

I laughed. I couldn’t help it. “
Trust
?
You
?” I spat. “I
used
to trust you. About two days ago. Then you just happened to whip out some magic like you had been doing it your whole life. And you never told me about it beforehand. How or why would I possibly trust you after that?”

He leaned back, resigned. “I was going to tell you. I swear. It just never came up. I wanted to be like you two for so long, and then I suddenly was, and I didn’t want to be your weak-ass apprentice. I wanted to appear formidable, strong, dependable.”

“Well, instead you just appeared untrustworthy. Satisfied?” I grouched. He shook his head, angry. “How did it happen?
When
did it happen? I would have known if you had an innate spark in you all these years. I sensed
nothing
of the sort though. What changed?”

He stood. “I need another drink first.” He tried to step over my bag, but his foot got caught up in the strap and he stumbled before catching himself, spewing the book from the Minotaur onto the floor. Peter stared at it for a second, and then stooped down to pick it up.

“Don’t, Peter.”

He looked over at me, chastising eyes demeaning my warning. “It’s just a book.” Then it was in his fingers. I scratched my fingers through my hair. No harm in glancing at it, I guess. Besides, I hadn’t had a chance to peruse it yet either. And I had risked my life for it. I watched Peter’s face grow pale. He tried to speak twice, but no sound came out. When he cleared his throat, it was barely a whisper. “How did you find it?”

I squinted, taking another sip of my drink. “I already told you. I got it from the Minotaur. It’s for a client.”

He was shaking his head. “Is this some kind of a joke? This is the book I wanted you to get for
me
. The one my client
really
wanted. How did you know?” He looked hungry, and lost at the same time.

My forearms pebbled with sudden anxiety. “Alright, Peter. I don’t know what you are talking about, but that book belongs to someone else. You look as if you have had enough to drink.” I slowly stood, not wanting to spook him. He was ignoring me, reading the cover page. I leaned over enough to see, and read it myself. I somehow managed to keep my face neutral.
Sons of the Dying Sun
was written across an entire page. My skin pebbled even further. The book Raven had asked for. The one Alaric wanted.