Night Rune (Prof Croft Book 8) by Brad Magnarella (best e reader for academics txt) 📕

of the demon lord Sathanas, who represented Wrath. How in the catacombs beneath St. Martin’s he’d tried to stoke my anger into a force he could command. How he’d almost succeeded.

“Elemental expressions of our darkest urges,” I replied.

“Which makes all demonkind elemental beings,” Arnaud said. “I’ve been thinking deeply on our conversation in the cave. We concluded that Malphas chose the mer, half-fae, and druid races for their ‘particular properties’ is how you put it, yes? Well what if those properties were elemental?”

“Elemental,” I repeated.

A memory struck me. The Met. The frigging Met.

I was ten when Nana first took me to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. She’d known I was fascinated with ancient mythology, and the museum was featuring an exhibit on the Greeks and Romans. The pottery and sculptures all ran together in my memory, but in a section on philosophy, one drawing stood out: a depiction of Aristotle’s five elements, also known as the Aristotelean Set. I’d become lost in it, the alchemy-like symbol speaking to some as-yet-awakened aspect of my bloodline.

Is that why Gretchen transported me there?

I pulled another book from my shelf and flipped it open until I was looking at the same depiction—a cross-like arrangement of the elements Earth, Air, Fire, and Water, with Aether in the center.

And with it came a vision I’d had twice now, of lying in a cross-like formation with four others, a dark energy building around us.

Arnaud stood and peered at the image too. “Yes, I was thinking of something similar.”

I tapped the Water symbol and said, “Merfolk essence.” From there I traced my finger to the Earth symbol. “The basis for druidic magic.” I moved my finger to the symbol for Air. “The original fae were said to be Sylphs or air spirits.”

Arnaud nodded. “I believe Malphas is using their essences in some form of elemental magic.”

I looked at the remaining symbols. “That leaves Fire and Aether.”

“Malphas can manifest Infernal Fire himself,” Arnaud said. “He’ll no doubt use his mystery demon as a focal point.”

“Leaving Aether, which is synonymous with Spirit.”

“And there, I believe, is your holy man,” Arnaud said. “Malachi.”

More understanding hit me. That’s why the soulless mobs appeared when they did. To claim Malachi before we could. It also explained why the mystery demon was staying away. With the power Malachi wielded, my teammate could easily destroy the demon, and thus Malphas’s plan to use them in his final elements.

“I’m now inclined to believe that my former master didn’t mean ‘Night Rune’ at all,” Arnaud said with a grim smile. “But rather ‘Night Ruin.’ A conflation of the terms ‘eternal night’ and ‘mortal ruin.’”

The elements of the Night Ruin gather.

I looked over the Aristotelean Set again. The races-as-elements theory worked, but the pattern was meant to induce balance. It could amp up the energy at the St. Martin’s site, sure, give it shape, but I wasn’t seeing a demonic portal.

“We’re making progress, I believe,” Arnaud said. “But any further help I lend will require a formal agreement.”

I turned toward him. “An agreement?”

“In exchange for my assistance, you’ll release me from my bondage. In addition, you’ll forego any and all acts of retribution—by you, your Order, or anyone you can think to contract. I, in turn, will pledge to leave you and your loved ones in peace. I’m proposing a permanent truce, Mr. Croft.”

“You’re proposing a lot more than that, and you can forget it.”

“Not even for your family?” he asked, affecting surprise. “I’ll fashion the agreement anyway. In case you have a change of heart.”

“Don’t bother.” But I could already feel the demonic agreement taking shape in the psychic space between us.

“You have but to accept it,” Arnaud purred.

I was telling him to get rid of it when the door opened downstairs.

I went silent and froze in place. Oh, please don’t let that be—

“I’m home,” someone called.

Shit. It was me.

38

I waved Arnaud toward a slot under the table, next to the bookcase. The demon-vampire gave me a withering look, but still under Caroline’s enchantment, he obeyed, folding his slender form into the small space.

Downstairs, Tabitha murmured, “Again?”

I held my breath, but her remark didn’t give the time-catch me pause. I could hear him cycling through my homecoming routines: hanging coat and cane, dropping a clutch of mail onto the table, rooting through the fridge. He’d be coming up here shortly to check the hologram. If only my damn stealth potioned was ready.

“You hungry?” I heard the time-catch me call.

“Are you really asking me that?” Tabitha said.

“Let’s see, I’ve got swordfish or flat iron steak.”

“Can you stop pestering me with questions and just prepare both?”

“We have to save the other one for tomorrow.”

“Like a concentration camp in here,” she muttered.

“I can always start serving cat food, you know.”

“Fish,” she said.

As he began pulling out pans, I quietly slid the books I’d selected back into their slots, arranged the desk as it had been, and retrieved my cane from the table. I stood over the steaming pots. If he could give me about ten minutes, I could bottle the potions, get a stealth potion into Arnaud and me, and slip out.

Sure, it would have been fascinating to meet myself from five years earlier, but there wasn’t time to convince him I was from the future. Also, I didn’t want to have to tell him he was just an artifact and would cease to exist when the time catch collapsed, which could be in, oh, a few hours. I knew myself well enough to know he’d be skeptical of the first and super depressed about the second.

C’mon, c’mon, c’mon, I thought at the cooking potions.

“What happened to your friend?” Tabitha murmured.

Oh, crap.

“What friend?” he asked.

“The one with the hideous face and stench.”

Arnaud glared at me from under the table. Downstairs, sizzling sounded as the fish landed in the pan.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” time-catch me replied.

I peeked over the railing. Tabitha was still curled in a mound facing the window.

“Oh, stop being an ass,” she continued in