Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 38711 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 194(@200wpm)___ 155(@250wpm)___ 129(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38711 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 194(@200wpm)___ 155(@250wpm)___ 129(@300wpm)
“So, what are you going to do about it?” Roman asked.
“A man’s home is his castle. You want to protect it. I understand that. In your place, I’d do the same. Nobody likes a pack of random strangers showing up on their doorstep and making demands. That’s why I’m going to make you an offer instead. Before I unleash hell, I must at least try.”
Ah. Personnel management. This wasn’t about him. This was about Wayne looking good in front of his crew. They saw themselves as elite. Attacking a peaceful man in his house and child trafficking didn’t exactly go with the whole glorious warrior shtick. But Wayne had taken the money, and now he was giving himself an out in case any of them grumbled about this incident later.
Oh, it’s such a shame we had to kill that deranged hermit in the woods. Poor guy. I gave him a chance to save himself, I tried to be reasonable, I warned him. If only he had listened to me.
“Let me level with you,” Wayne said.
“Oh, please do.”
“I’m willing to compensate you for the inconvenience. How much will it take to resolve this matter peacefully today?”
“Finn?” Roman called out.
“Yes?” Finn asked from inside the house.
“Are you here of your own free will?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want to go with these men?”
“No. I don’t.”
Roman stared at Wayne. Seconds ticked by.
“What’s your answer?” Wayne finally said.
“I’m waiting for you to say it out loud. Say ‘how much money will it take for us to buy a child and drag him out of your house?’ Listen to the words as you say them and then explain to me again how you are the good guys here.”
The faces of the two mercenaries behind Wayne told Roman that one had landed.
“It’s not like that,” Wayne said.
“I know your gods. I’ve met Odin.” And what a memorable, super fun meeting that had been. If he never saw another Norse god in his lifetime, it would be too soon. “They do not celebrate slavers in neo-Valhalla.”
That one also landed.
“What you’re really asking,” Roman said, “is the price of my soul. But I can’t sell it to you. It’s already claimed. All the money in the world would not make me give you this kid.”
Wayne heaved a sigh. “I fucking tried.”
“Yes, yes. Do what we both know you were going to do anyway.”
The mercenary leader spun around and jerked the blindfold off the priest’s face. The man stared at Roman with dark eyes. That was a hell of a thousand-yard stare. He didn’t seem to know where he was. The magic inside him had swelled like a raging river straining against a dam.
Wayne leaned to the priest and pointed at Roman. “Look, Farhang. Evil!”
Awareness sparked in Farhang’s eyes. A sluice gate had opened, and the chaotic maelstrom of his power had found a target.
Shit.
Roman planted his staff onto the porch.
Light exploded from Farhang, rolling like a blast wave, shaking the snow off the trees. It smashed into the staff and broke on its shaft, rattling Klyuv in Roman’s fingers. The house shook behind him. Inside Roro howled with an unearthly voice.
Farhang turned his hands downward and spun them.
What are you?
A loud, triumphant chant spilled from the priest’s lips. Unfamiliar words, a foreign language, channeling power. The snow swirled around him, mixing with golden light.
Finn stepped outside.
“Get back,” Roman told him.
“No.”
The light coalesced into rings that slid up and down around Farhang with an electric strumming sound. Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh. He was like a volcano about to blow.
The kid raised his head and took a deliberate step closer to Roman.
“What are you doing?” Roman growled.
“Being a human shield.”
“Do what now?”
“They won’t hit you if I stand close.” Finn edged a little closer.
Farhang clapped his hands. “…Ahura…!”
Oh, fuck it all.
Roman grabbed Finn and yanked him to the floor of the porch.
Missiles of golden fire erupted out of Farhang and streaked toward the house.
The bone hands burst from the ground, clamping together into a shield. The golden fireballs hammered into them. The skeletal shield shook under the barrage, sizzling from the impact.
Inside the house Roro yowled like a demon.
Of all the denominations, it had to be that one. What did those svolochi do to him? Had to be something really potent. A restricting amulet would’ve emitted its own magic, but Farhang was putting out so much power it was hard to sense anything in that blinding light.
“What the hell is he?” Finn squeezed out.
“Get into the house!”
“I will shield you! They want me alive!”
“He didn’t get that memo, kid. Inside. Now!”
Slivers of bone peppered the floorboards as the light struck chunks from the bone fingers. Finn scrambled into the house on all fours, landed just inside the doorway, and stayed there.
The mercenaries advanced in a ragged line. He could see them through the gaps in the damaged fingers, eight figures carefully moving in, Wayne in the middle, in the second line. The two shooters remained in their spots on the flanks, waiting for the right moment to put a bolt in his chest.