Deus Ex Magicka (Pantheon Book 1) by Jeremy Thomas Fuller

Author:Jeremy Thomas Fuller [Fuller, Jeremy Thomas]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Starmist Entertainment
Published: 2018-03-29T00:00:00+00:00

Twenty

I spun, but Crater wasn’t there. I heard his laugh echoing throughout the halls. Did he have some kind of speaker system? A medieval intercom? Was he watching my every move?

Of course he was watching me. And Missy had been right—the glass had been a trap. But now what? What was he doing to her? What was he doing to me? Where was the damn man?

“We have to find her,” I said to Chaahk, but then I realized he wasn’t there either. “Where did you—” I started, looking around the corner. Not there. I turned around and around, retracing my steps, trying to find him.

He was gone.

What the hell?

Then I heard Missy screaming.

So I started running. Not toward the screams, mind you. I wasn’t that stupid. I started running in the opposite direction.

The screams diminished behind me as I ran, footsteps echoing loudly in the halls. There were still no people anywhere. The whole castle was just empty, devoid of life. Is this how it always was? Did nobody live here? Or had Crater set something special up for me?

I took turns at random, never pausing, hoping to confuse Crater. The screams were gone, now—I’d moved far away from that part of the castle. I flew down halls and through rooms, past statues and sets of armor and several tapestries depicting Crater in lewd positions, massive gut included.

That artist must have made even more than the first one.

I suddenly skidded to a stop. I was in a huge chamber, with two spiral staircases heading upwards to my left and right. The chamber itself was beautiful, lined entirely with dark wood that gleamed in the flickering torchlight. There was a large hearth set against the wall between the stairs, with a roaring fire already going. A thick beige rug lay in front of the fire, and there was a collection of leather chairs that looked a bit too modern for the era.

Every torch in the whole castle had been lit, I realized. Everywhere I’d gone. Was that magic, or was there some shadowy attendant who lit them all and kept them fresh? Maybe Crater spent his days walking slowly from torch to torch, playing with fire. He seemed like the type that would do something like that.

“Where are you going?” a voice above me said.

I jumped. It was Crater. Just his voice, though. Not the man himself.

“I’m taking the tour,” I said.

“Stay there,” he said. I angled my head toward the sound and spotted a tiny speaker just above a tapestry. This one showed Crater jumping off a diving board into a massive pool.

Completely naked.

“Release my daughter,” I said, trying not to throw up, “and I’ll leave.”

“You won’t leave.” It sounded like Crater was moving. His voice was clipped, like he was already out of breath.

“I will,” I said, “you bastard.”

“See?”

“What? Calling you a bastard doesn’t mean I won’t leave. You kidnapped my daughter, you bastard. I want her back. Now. Then I’ll leave you alone to your tapestries and torches.”

“Just hang on.

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