Faerie Protective Services: An Action Packed Urban Fantasy Thriller (Faerie Protective Services Inc Book 1) by Robert McKinney

Author:Robert McKinney [McKinney, Robert]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: McKinney Can't Press
Published: 2020-07-03T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHT

No one kept watch over me as I entered the Erlking’s buried keep. From what I could tell, the prevailing opinion was that any assassin, spy, or miscreant foolish enough to brave the Erlking’s iron fortress was welcome to try.

The inside of the complex contained a mix of features that ranged from the antique to merely outdated. I passed by cabins where half-blood clerks clacked away on typewriters that looked older than three or four of them combined, and through passageways that carried the torn, blood stained banners of both mortal and semi-mortal knights who’d been slain as far back as the crusades. A pair of boar-spear wielding guards wearing iron breastplates, hand grenades, and khaki field uniforms were stationed at the first intersection I passed, while a pair manning a crew-served, WWI-era Vickers machine gun were set up at another. Even though the breadth of things that could kill you in Faerie was almost too wide to imagine, the Erlking’s guards were intent on meeting the challenge.

The downside of having no one looking over my shoulder was that I also had no one to guide me through it. The place was a maze of claustrophobic intersecting passageways, and I was more than aware that each blind turn I took could bring me face to face with an over vigilant guard. I had no intention of winding up as some hallway gunner’s target practice, so I made sure to always announce myself before approaching intersections, and decided that the next time I came here, I’d ask for directions before entering.

Even without guidance, the Erlking’s throne room was hard to miss. All passageways eventually led to the large, torch lit space, which was set into what had once been the warship’s command bridge.

The Erlking himself rested on a simple, uncushioned chair, which in turn sat on a stage just high enough off the floor to give him a clear view of anyone who entered. Like most goblins, he was no more than five feet tall, with long slender fingers and long, pointed ears. Though a wide crown of antlers obscured his face from my view, I had little doubt he took note of each and every thing within range.

He was also surrounded by a buzz of activity. Clerks handed him sheets of paper, which he signed one handed on a table to the side of his throne. Advisors sat at desks that filled the bulk of the room - their noses either hovering above the reams of papers they studied or buried in the thorny mass of the Erlking’s crown as they whispered in his ear. It reminded me more of a junior officer’s grind than a place for palace intrigue, which is, I suspected, exactly how the Erlking liked it.

A lithe clerk passing by asked me who I was, so I gave him my name and asked for a moment of the Erlking’s time. The clerk told me that it may be a while until the Erlking got around to me, so I found a free spot of wall, leaned against it, and settled in for a wait.

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