Page 47 of Killian
Killian nodded. “I’m Killian.”
“Oh, we’re exchanging names like we’re proper friends?” He snorted. “Well, maybe you want to know who’s going to put you down. Lonnie Brutus.”
Lonnie Brutus. Killian tried to get a feel for the tall man. There had to be something else there. Something besides the boiling hatred and arrogance that was written across his face.
“So other than my name, what you want, boy?” sneered Lonnie.
“Funny,” said Killian, “that’s what I was going to ask you.”
Lonnie flashed a grin, showing two silver fronts. “This is a library, ain’t it? I’m here for a book.”
“That seems unlikely,” said Killian.
“Why? Don’t I look like a book lover?”
“We have extreme doubts about your ability to read,” said Cynog.
“You want to come out from behind your dog and say that,” said Lonnie.
“No, thank you. Ah. I see what he has done there. I have been tricked into insulting you, Killian. My apologies.”
Lonnie smirked. “I tell you what, dog. I think you need to fetch me my book.”
Killian supposed he ought to be angry about the insults. Mostly what he felt was impatient and tired. Every fucking day was a day that someone thought they had the right to say something about him. Every day was a day that his existence bothered someone. Was there ever going to be a point when he didn’t have to put on mental armor against shitheads just to go outside?
“And then what?” asked Killian.
“What?” Lonnie was thrown off.
“You get the book that you want—”
“TheBook of the Dead,” said Lonnie.
“Which one?” asked Cynog.
“What do you mean which one? I want theBook of the Dead.”
“Well, we’ve got lots of those,” said Cynog. “Which edition?”
“The first one,” said Lonnie
“That’s not really a book. It’s more of a collection of scrolls,” said Cynog. “The name was applied later. Also, it’s extremely delicate, and I don’t think you have proper transportation. Also, come to think of it, it might just disintegrate upon contact with Earth’s atmosphere.”
“I want whichever one brings people back to life,” snapped Lonnie, leaning in and speaking clearly as if Cynog was the one being an idiot. Cynog opened his mouth again, but Killian held up his hand.
“So,” said Killian, “to clarify, your plan is to get the book and return to Earth. Where you will do what? Bring someone back to life?”
“That ain’t none of your business, reject,” said Lonnie. “What? You think we don’t know about you dogs out in Greece? That’s right. I know whatpackyou come from. Not too many black dogs like you running around. I recognize you. You’re on our most wanted list. You and your traitor human. You think we don’t know what you’re up to? Looking for theStrumwolkelike that’s going to solve anything. You’re looking at the past, but we’re looking to the future. TheStrumwolkewill be nothing compared to what we do with theBook of the Dead.”
Killian thought that the speech was supposed to be insulting or terrifying. Lonnie was throwing words down like they were aces. The problem was that Killian didn’t know what any of them meant. He wasn’t sure he even knew what game they were playing. He wanted to ask what else Lonnie knew about him. It seemed like he had information Killian didn’t, but he also thought that if he asked, Lonnie would never answer just out of spite.
“And what happens when you don’t get the book?” asked Killian.
“You want to test me?” demanded Lonnie taking a step forward.
“I want to know the entire situation,” said Killian, without moving. Lonnie was the one that sounded like a dog. Posturing, yipping, barking, but never quite coming within reach.
“Well, here’s the situation. I may not know much about this place, but I know that every damn surface of that temple is covered in drawings of trees. So I figure that this big tree is kind of important to them. And that means that you’re going to get me that book or I’m going to drill a hole straight into this tree and fill it with every stick of dynamite and piece of C-4 that we brought with us. I don’t know if we can bring it down, but I figure we can hurt it bad enough to make it die.”
