ONE
Dex glared at Monty.
We sat in the newly remodeled conference room in the Moscow. Olga had dropped by earlier to give her approval of the renovations and, I think, to warn us about any more destruction to the property.
Monty had assured her that there wouldn’t be any more destruction taking place. I kept my opinion to myself. If the Fifth Pillar or any of the multitude of the ‘Crush Monty and Strong’ Fan Club decided to pay us a visit, Monty would have to eat those words.
What she really wanted to know was about Cece and her preparation for her upcoming examination. I still felt it was wrong to put Cece through this, but I wasn’t an expert on Jotnar culture. It wasn’t my place to contradict their traditions.
That didn’t mean I was okay with it, just that I would be nice until it was no longer time to be nice. I really hoped it didn’t come to that, but I would be ready for it.
We had just finished speaking to Olga when Dex came into the space from his room. Apparently Dex could sense when Monty was home. This was news to me, but it didn’t surprise me; Dex was beyond ancient—not that I would say that out loud. It was usually the extremely old mages that were touchy about their age. That and the fact that Dex was old but he wasn’t powerless. Annoying him was a recipe for pain, and I had had plenty on our recent trip to Iron Fan.
It seemed that the responsibilities of the Montague School of Battlemagic had Dex in some high-powered meetings. He wasn’t doing casual Bohemian today. Today, he actually looked like he belonged to the official mage class—with his own flair, of course.
He was actually dressed, which was a surprising change from his usual half-naked method of fashion. He was wearing what I considered a typical mageiform. It was a black runed Zegna bespoke suit with dark green accents. On anyone else, it would have looked gaudy.
Dex made it look stylish and understated.
The shirt he wore was a deep green, almost black. If I focused, I could see the runes that flowed across the fabric. Since I had recently acquired the ability to read runes, I tried to decipher the ones on his shirt. I was still getting the hang of it, which meant I couldn’t read them easily.
From what I could make out, anyone attacking Dex while he was wearing this shirt was in for an agonizing time. Then again, with or without the shirt, anyone insane enough to attack Dex was looking to shorten their life expectancy in a hurry.
His mostly grey hair was pulled back, away from his face and held in place with a large, dark green raven pin. It wrapped around the bulk of his hair, forming a loose ponytail while keeping the hair in place.
The only thing that was typical Dex were his bare feet and the set of softly glowing rings which adorned his toes.
He tapped his feet as he gazed at Monty.
It was not a happy tapping.
In fact, if I had to define the tapping under the conference table, the only word that came to mind was menacing.
Only Dex could make something as mundane as foot tapping into something that conveyed an undercurrent of barely controlled menace and anger.
Everything about him today whispered a promise of maiming. He had just gotten here, so I had to assume that whatever meeting he had just come from, did not go as expected.
The energy around Dex was on the lower end of the mangling spectrum, and his expression was not happy as he focused on Monty. Every so often, he would glance my way as if to say ‘don’t think you’re off the hook’.
Every time he looked my way the temperature in the conference room dropped a few degrees, making me wonder if Olga had snuck back into our space.
I almost checked the walls for frost as I remained as still as possible, hoping that my statue imitation would hide me in plain sight.
It didn’t work as he turned his glare from Monty to me. Only my hellhound was spared the level two Clint Glint.
Dex was not pleased at Monty’s latest suggestion, and after hearing some of the details, I had to say I wasn’t thrilled either.
Peaches whined under the table, and for a brief moment I wished I could join him under there, if only to get away from the ‘angry uncle’ vibes Dex was giving off.
We sat around our newly purchased, rune-inscribed Buloke conference table in the freshly runed conference room in the Moscow.
Monty figured that the best way to prevent future destruction—and unneeded future run-ins with our landlord Olga—would be to systematically begin to reinforce all of the defenses in our space.
He started in the conference room, but was working his way around our space. I think he was going to work on the kitchen area next if only to prevent any hellhound-sized disasters from happening there.
From the way Dex was looking at us, we were a few wrong comments away from needing to flip the table over and hiding behind it.
Which is why I opted to remain silent…for now.
Elder Han and his learning pebbles had taught me that silence could prevent unnecessary pain. Then again, we weren’t getting anywhere with this high-level staring contest.
Sometimes mages took themselves way too seriously.
“Rough day at the school?” I asked, to break the tension in the room. “You’re looking very official today.”
“Aye,” Dex said, with a sigh as he ran a hand through his hair, dislodging the raven pin. He took it and put it inside his suit jacket pocket. I figured it was a gift from the Morrigan. “Some of the sects sent over a delegation of representatives to inquire about my intentions.”
“Your intentions?” I asked, still treading carefully. “The relocation of the entire Golden Circle wasn’t clear enough?”
“You’d think,” he said. “It was a scouting mission. They wanted to gauge how powerful the defenses were at the school. Since they were so curious, and in the spirit of diplomacy, I did the most courteous thing I could—I let the Head Dean give them a tour of the campus grounds.”
“Wait…the Head Dean?” I asked. “You don’t mean—?”
He gave me a wicked smile and nodded.
“Mo gave them an excellent tour,” he said. “So excellent in fact, that they chose to end it early. I wonder why.”
“That was cruel,” Monty said, shaking his head. “You know it won’t deter them. They will be back…eventually.”
“I know,” Dex answered with a growl. “I just gave them something to think about, while they plan on how to remove me and recapture the Golden Circle.”
“Can they?” I asked. “Remove you and recapture the sect?”
“I suppose anything is possible,” he said, rubbing his chin as he considered the Sect Elders removing him. “I never expected my nephew to actively seek to end his life, but here we are.”
The glare returned, focused directly on Monty.
I had to give Monty credit—he took Dex’s glare and appeared to be unbothered. He was either incredibly brave, or woke up today choosing violence for breakfast.
It had been some time since our recent mountain retreat at Iron Fan, and I, for one, was glad to be in a city, not having to climb murder stairs every morning.
I grabbed my enormous mug of Death Wish and took a long sip as Monty stared back at his uncle. He took his cup of tea—Earl Grey, of course—and took a small sip before methodically placing the cup back in its saucer.
There would’ve been less tension in the air if I were colorblind, and trying to defuse a bomb with only red and green wires to cut.
Peaches rumbled again under the table.
<Do you think the old man can make me some meat?>
<Now may not be the best time, boy. He seems angry.>
<Why is he angry? Is he not eating enough meat?>
<I don’t think it has anything to do with meat.>
<Everything has to do with meat. If he ate more meat, he would be happier.>
Of course, zen bliss could only happen with large portions of meat according to my Zen Meat Hellhound.
<He’s angry with Monty.>
<Is it because the angry man doesn’t eat meat?>
<Really? Not everything has to do with meat. It’s not that.>
<Then why is he angry?>
<Monty volunteered us for something dangerous, and I think Dex is upset because Monty’s suggestion makes sense, not that I think it’s a great idea.>
<What did the angry man suggest?>
<That we go to his ancestral home. It seems his home is filled with traps and failsafes.>
<If he ate meat…>
<I know—he could deal with the traps and failsafes easily. I wish everything could be solved with meat, I do, but I don’t think this is one of those situations.>
<When you become mighty, you will understand.>
<Can hardly wait. Now be still, I need to get the details on this ancestral home of the Montagues.>
He chuffed in response and angled his body next to my feet, getting comfortable by crushing my legs.
