Endless Knight (Darkling Mage 9)

He raised one eyebrow, giving me a weary look. “Listen. There’s a reason we get along, you and I. Several reasons, in fact, but one of the most critical is how we’re both sneaky, like. Slippery. You deal with all-powerful entities all the damn time, and I have to dodge the demon princes. Did you know I had to cut my contract with that wizard I was working for? It’s been that wild. The point is, that’s our defining trait. We’re survivors. Improvisors. Big old fakers.”

I laughed heartily, feeling oddly at ease around, let’s face it, this tiny demon straight out of hell. “Fakers?”

Scrimshaw burped. “That’s right. Fakers. Charlatans. Rogues. We just fake it till we make it, ’cause that’s what we are.”

I leaned into the sofa, raising my beer to my lips. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to fake my way out of this one, Scrimshaw. Not at all, if I’m honest.”

“Pssh. You’ll find a way. What’s that stupid thing you like to say? Trust in yourself. Trust in Dustin.”

I smiled at him, not even bothering to guess how he knew about my dumb little catchphrase. “You know, I really needed to hear that. I don’t know how much of my situation I can really control anymore, but – thanks, Scrimshaw. You’re good people.”

He nodded sagely, waving a tiny hand. “I know, I know.” He looked up at me with metallic eyes, blinking innocently. “Now what’s a good person like me got to do to get a beer around here?”

Chapter 14

For a gaggle of misfits and mages, you’d think that my friends and I would spend more time in libraries sifting through dusty tomes and ancient grimoires. It’s not that I hate reading. I quite enjoy it, really, as an inexpensive method of learning even more ways to fake and fiddle my way through life.

It’s just that life in the arcane underground teaches you to be cautious and wary about things you never knew to be cautious and wary about, and that includes destructive grimoires that could be lurking in wait. A misplaced scroll of disintegration, maybe, or even a tome left by someone as a trap – the kind that captures you between its covers, never ending no matter how many times you flip its pages, eventually driving you completely insane.

At least that was my excuse for staying out of libraries.

“You’re not going to find any of those here,” Herald grumbled. “And if you want any hope of securing the third sword, you’re going to have to help me look through at least some of these books.”

Drastic times called

for drastic measures, so I let him drag me by the scruff into an actual library. To be fair, Herald was right. You don’t really find any of the more lethal literary works sitting out in plain sight. Stuff like the Tome of Annihilation and the Book of Plagues you’ll only ever see sleeping in the personal library of some crotchety old wizard, or some wealthy yet ignorant collector, or worst of all, as part of the coveted treasures of the demon prince of greed.

But Valero Public Library? That’s not the kind of place where you’ll randomly stumble upon books of shadows, or booby-trapped old grimoires with a taste for human fingers. It was the same library we unsuccessfully searched for the Tome of Annihilation, after all. Incidentally, it was also the first time I met Samyaza.

Valero Public was, however, a good place to start for finding some easily accessible information, specifically the name of any kind of sword that was attached to the human realm. All we needed were some books of fables and mythology, and a willingness to scour through them all afternoon long.

“Ideally, we’d also want for these stories to be true,” Herald said. “Because what the hell is the point of going out to find a mythical sword if it never existed in the first place?”

I rubbed my hands through my hair, groaning as I stared at the pile of books Herald had assigned me to sift through. “Why couldn’t we have just used the internet?”

He gave me the kind of look a teacher might give a student just before he rapped them across the knuckles with a wooden ruler. “You know very well that you can only find some things in books. The internet isn’t the answer for everything, Dustin.”

I scoffed, smearing myself across the table and splaying my arms over the books. “It is for porn.”

Herald smirked, then smacked me on the forearm. “Get to work.”

“I don’t wanna.”

I was exaggerating, of course. We had pretty much everyone we knew on the case helping to narrow down the choice of blade for the hunt. And this meant that I could spend more time with Herald. Every precious day with him counted, the closer we got to completing the reagents for the Apotheosis. Every second with him seemed to be worth so much more.

“I’m pretty confident we’ll find something,” Herald said. “Historically speaking, there have been tons of legendary swords explicitly wielded by purely human users. Kings, knights, heroes, that kind of thing. The trick is finding something that isn’t locked up in a museum somewhere.”

“This one,” I said, stabbing randomly at an image in an open book, mainly because the pictured sword looked so damn pretty. “I say we look for this one.”

He nudged the book closer to himself, narrowing his eyes as he peered at the entry before giving me a disapproving frown. “What did I just say? That’s Joyeuse.”

“Pretty name.”

“I agree. But it’s also locked up in a fancy display in France. Belonged to a French king. Charlemagne? You may have heard of him. They used Joyeuse for coronations and stuff. Keep looking, and no more museum artifacts, unless you like the idea of breaking in to steal them yourself.”

“You’re so smart,” I mumbled lazily, grinning at him. “How do you know so much?”

“Don’t patronize me, Dust,” he said, smiling to himself anyway, visibly tickled by the non-compliment. “Good thing we have Team Borica to pick up the slack for you.”