Creation Mage 6 by Dante King (detective books to read txt) 📕

the pool. Being careful to keep one eye on the miniature Abomination, I glanced over at the shallow pond and saw that a small podium had risen out of the waters.

“You fucking good thing, you,” I said.

On the dais was what surely must have been the second relic—it certainly tied in nicely with the first.

It was a bottle of red writing ink, complete with a cork stopper and sealed with wax.

I was still of gnome height, and so hopping back down into the pool, picking up the bottle of ink, and lugging it on my shoulder back to the edge of the pool was actually a fairly arduous task. But I managed it, and was able to carry it all the way back across the Garden of Ward and Curse to the exit, from which the metal vine portcullis had been withdrawn.

I did not relish the walk back through the stony passageway in my new height. Despite the corridor now resembling the Siq Canyon rather than a narrow passage, I could barely squeeze through. With legs only a couple of inches long, it promised to be quite a long walk. Thankfully, on stepping over the threshold and into the shadows of the corridor, I was hit by a rolling wave of nausea and shot up to my usual height and build.

“Thank the gods,” I muttered, waiting for the blurry vision and sickness to pass.

By the time that I had wended my way through the claustrophobic corridor and reached the exit that led to that goddamn staircase, I was feeling almost as fit as I had been walking in there in the first place.

“He lives!” Leah cried overdramatically as I rounded the final jagged corner.

“You sound like you doubted it would happen,” I said.

“Do you have the relic?” Mallory asked, running her eyes over me. “I don’t see it.”

I pulled the bottle of ink from a pocket and held it up. “Got it,” I said.

Mallory let out a breath that might have been a sigh of relief.

“Why are you so wet?” Leah asked.

I tucked the bottle back into my pocket and laughed drily. “Man, I would love to relive that again, but I think it’s going to have to wait. Suffice to say that the garden had a pond and I got to enjoy it on a couple of occasions.”

“Lucky for some,” Leah said absently. “I wouldn’t have minded a quick dip.”

I eyed the stairs with deep dislike, then scanned the faces of the other two women. They looked about as exuberant to tackle the eleven-hundred and eleven steps as I felt.

“Come on,” I said, “let’s get going. Only one more relic to get our hands on now. Then we can head back to the ranch for some lunch and some time by the fire.”

“Or the hot tub?” Leah said casually.

I made a face of pained keenness. “Or the hot tub,” I agreed.

We descended the stairs more quickly than we had ascended them, but with the same amount of puffing and sweating.

We were just about to sneak out of the door and into the hallways beyond, when I grabbed Mallory by the elbow. My brain, probably coaxed into a supreme effort after having to face all those fucking stairs, had coughed up an unexpected idea.

“Mallory,” I whispered, “something happened back with the second relic that has got me thinking… Are you able to use your Holy Magic to shrink us by any chance?”

Mallory gave me a surprised look but said, “Yes, I should think so. Why?”

I outlined my plan to her. After I was finished, the Holy Mage smiled radiantly.

“Clever, Justin Mauler,” she said approvingly. “Very clever.”

A few minutes later, the door to the staircase of eleven-hundred and eleven steps creaked open. If there had been any guards about to see, they would have watched as three miniature figures, riding on the backs of a trio of undead wolverines the size of hares, raced out of the cracked door and pelted up the corridor and out of sight.

Chapter 16

To my profound disgust, the location of the third relic was at the top of yet another lengthy staircase. Thankfully, it was not as long as the last one and switched back and forth in short lengths rather than spiraled. Having been transformed back into our usual sizes by Mallory’s clever Holy Magic, we ascended and soon found ourselves outside yet another door.

“This is more what I would have imagined if someone had told me we’d be hunting three relics,” I said as the three of us caught our breath from the climb and stared at the doorway looming in front of us.

“How so?” Leah asked dreamily.

“How so?” Mallory repeated. “Come, Leah, simply look at it.”

The doorway must have been all of fifteen feet high and was shaped in the Gothic design—the top curving up to meet at a rounded point at the pinnacle. Constructed of dark wood and rusted metal, it was carved in the likeness of some horrifying creature, one that I could not identify no matter which way I tilted my head. Even so, the purpose was clear: to invoke a sense of inescapable dread in whoever was standing in front of the door.

“I kind of like it.” Leah cocked her head to first one side and then the other. “It’s… invigorating. It conjures up all the sorts of feelings that someone should feel when they’re standing outside my bedroom door.”

Mallory turned to look at the slighter woman and arched a blonde, stately eyebrow. “Dread, despair, and overwhelming feeling of ominous doom?”

“No, silly,” Leah breathed. “No. The very real and tangible feeling that you’re about to step into something else’s domain. Something that shouldn’t be taken lightly. Something that should be respected. The feeling that you’re taking your future in your own hands and