Corpse Road

Book 22: Montague & Strong Case Files

by Orlando A. Sanchez

Genres: Urban Fantasy; Sword & Sorcery; Fairy Tales, Folk Tales, Legends & Mythology; Visionary & Metaphysical; Dragons & Mythical Creatures

Synopsis

Monty’s recent shift in power after using the First Elder Rune has awakened old enemies.

Enemies that were once dead have been cursed to roam the earth again…with one focus.

Destroy Tristan Montague and Simon Strong.

Now, together with the help of Simon and his uncle Dex, Monty must discover how the dead have risen, and more importantly, how to return them to their graves.

In order to succeed, they must locate a powerful necromancer rumored to be dead for centuries.

When it comes to old necromancers, the dead have a tendency to wander the night, and the rumors of death may be exaggerated.

If Monty and Simon don’t reverse the curse in time, they may soon join the Undead hunting them.

 

Release date: January 28, 2024

Publisher: Bitten Peaches Publishing Inc.

Print pages: 226

Sample

ONE

Battle form training.

More like battle form failing.

The storm was making this impossible.

If it was just rain, that would be doable. I could deal with fighting in the rain. It was the combination of rain and wind that made this difficult. I looked up into the sky as the wind threatened to rip me off the roof, and let out a low growl of disgust.

At this point, the rain was actually coming at me sideways, forcing me to turn my face away from the wind. My clothes, my everything, were soaked. I looked down at my hellhound who looked about as happy as I felt, and shook off some of the water from my face. He gave off a low rumble as he withstood the rain, giving me a massive dose of side-eye.

“Hey, don’t give me that look,” I said, futilely removing some of the water from his massive face, as thunder crashed in the distance. “This training wasn’t my idea. Blame Dex.”

<Will there be meat after this? I’m hungry and wet. I don’t like being hungry and wet.>

<First of all, you’re always hungry. As for being wet, we can’t help it in this storm. We may as well be training in the ocean.>

<I don’t want to train in the ocean. Can we go to the place after the training? The old man who smells like home always has good meat for me.>

<I’ll see what I can do. At the very least, I’m sure the Bear has some meat. I’ll ask her to share some with you.>

<I like her. She smells nice.>

<Sure she does. You know she’s probably the reason we’re standing in this storm right now.>

I glanced over at the large werebear standing off to the side, keeping dry under the canopy on the roof. She waved at me as I glared at her.

<She made it wet?>

<Not her, but I have a feeling that hammer of hers had something to do with it.>

<I still like her. She gives me good meat when we visit.>

<You would. Are you rested? This break isn’t going to last forever.>

<I’m not tired. She said we were taking a break for you. You still don’t understand our battle form.>

<She did say that, didn’t she? Fine. We try it again when she attacks. This time we make it work.>

<I can make it work every time.>

<I’m sensing some judgement here. I’ve never had a battle form, you know. Some of us aren’t hellhounds.>

<If you would eat more meat, you would be stronger. Then you could use our battle form every time.>

<I’ll get right on a new diet. In the meantime, we have to make this work or we’ll be out here all night. Who trains like this at night?>

<We do. I’m ready, bondmate. Let’s show her how mighty I am.>

<How mighty you are?>

<You will become mighty…when you get stronger. Right now, I will be mighty for both of us.>

<Of course you will. Let’s do this.>

Peaches rumbled again in response and hunkered down against the unrelenting wind and rain, as he looked across at our target.

We had been at this ‘training’ for close to an hour.

Our opponent appeared to be enjoying herself. I made a mental note to devise some sort of revenge thanks for Dex for his suggestion of this specialized training session. Maybe I could have Peaches chomp on one of his legs.

Knowing Dex, he would just ply my ever-voracious hellhound with premium sausage and ruin my plan. For a nearly indestructible and unstoppable hellhound of destruction, he was easy to distract if you knew the right strategy.

I stretched my back and twisted out some the kinks.

My body was feeling the wear, even if it had been repairing itself. My curse had kept me alive from a few close calls and near misses.

Her last attack, a bare-knuckle fist to my face, nearly rearranged my jaw to the back of my head. I rubbed my face as my body flushed with heat and dealt with the damage.

“There is no block,” Nan said, calling out from across the roof with a wide smile as she stood in the downpour opposite us. “Have you not learned this yet?”

“My face disagrees,” I said, still rubbing my jaw as Nan hefted her weapon while keeping her gaze fixed on me. “Are you sure Dex agreed to this?”

Still smiling, she gave me a slow nod.

“Horrendous,” she said. “Oh, and subpar. Those were some of the words he used to assess your performance in your battle against Keeper Gault. Something about you should have died several times over.”

“So nice of him to cheer me up that way,” I said. “I can always count on a mage to lift my morale.”

“That old man doesn’t do nice,” she said. “He said some other, more colorful things. That man knows curses I’ve never even heard—and I’m a seasoned valkyrie. We know curses. We even invented some of them. Would you like the full assessment?”

“Pass,” I said, raising a hand. “My ego can only take so much encouragement. I get the general message—I should’ve done better. Is that why he sent you and arranged all this?”

“Aye,” she said, her voice serious, but her smile mischievous. “Said he had matters to attend to at the school, and didn’t want us renovating the grounds…again. Something about having you both there would be too much damage at once.”

“He kept Monty at the school and sent me here? Really?”

“Tristan is facing the Chooser of the Slain,” she said with a slight shudder. “You get me. All things considered, I’d say you got the better end of that arrangement. As far as training halls go”—she looked around the roof—“this is one of the better ones I have had the privilege of doing battle in. Thank you, Favored of Ukko, for your hospitality.”

“You’re welcome,” Ursula said from where she stood, off to the side. “At least some people understand the word gratitude.”

“I’m supposed to be grateful that you loaned us your roof so I can get pounded on?” I asked in disbelief. “You must be joking.”

“You should be grateful that you can test the outer limits of your newfound ability here, on my training floor, and not while facing someone or something that wants to rip your face off, only to discover you can’t access this battle form when you need it the most.”

She had a valid point.

I bowed in her direction, which she returned.

“Thank you for the privilege of training on your floor,” I said. “The more we bleed in training—”

“The less we bleed in battle,” she finished. “Not the exact quote, but it works if you learn the lessons.”

I nodded and took in my surroundings.

We were on the roof of the DAMNED Headquarters.

I looked around the roof of the renovated and modified carriage house. It appeared to be more a contained training area than a normal roof. High walls, which I was certain violated some kind of air rights code, prevented neighbors from easy viewing.

The roof was divided into several sections, and all the equipment was weatherproof. Apparently, Ursula enjoyed training outside just as much as she did training indoors.

Must’ve been a bear thing.

Despite the fully equipped training facility inside the building, Nan suggested we conduct the battle form training on the roof, to supposedly ‘get some fresh air’ while we trained.

The indoor training space on the bottom level was designed to withstand use from Ursula, a werebear, who conveniently stood just inside the covered patio and out of the torrential downpour I was being subjected to.

I shot her another look, as lightning raced across the sky.

“Well, that explains why we’re here,” I said. “What it doesn’t explain, is the monsoon I’m currently standing in. Any thoughts on that, Bear? You have something to do with our wonderful training weather?”

“Perhaps,” Ursula said with a small chuckle. “Ask your trainer.”

Nan laughed.

“You must be able to fight in every condition and on any terrain,” Nan said. “You must be able to adapt to every eventuality. You and your mighty hound must be able to fight as one.”

“And you anticipate us facing our next enemy in a hurricane?”

“I anticipate you facing your next enemy wherever you need to—a hurricane or the depths of hell itself,” she said, the smile across her lips turning into something darker and scarier. “Wherever that battle occurs, you two must be ready. That is the task I was given, and you will be ready or die in the training.”

“I’m not a valkyrie, you know,” I said, sliding into a defensive stance and holding Ebonsoul across my body as Peaches entered ‘tear and shred’ mode. “I’m not applying for the Midnight Echelon.”

“I know,” she said, her voice somber as she gazed at her axe. “Did you know that every member of the Echelon does battle under one truth?”

“What? Pain is part of the process?” I asked. “If you’re not bleeding, you’re not training hard enough?”

“Both true, but no,” she said. “We have a simple saying: unus exercitus. Do you know what that means?”

I nodded.

“My Latin is rusty, but that one is easy: one person is an army.”

She nodded in response.

“Do you know why that is the driving philosophy of the Midnight Echelon?”

“Each of you is powerful enough to hold off an army?”

“No,” she said with a shake of her head. “Although…probably true. It is to remind us no one is coming. No one is going to rescue you and no one is coming to your aid. It doesn’t matter how many stand against you. Unus exercitus.”

“Even if that means falling in battle?”

“If my death can save the lives of my sisters, then it is an honorable death,” she said without hesitation. “Do you understand this concept—an honorable death?”

I nodded again.

“I do,” I said. “Not a concept I actively pursue—you know, enjoying life and all-but I do understand and accept it, yes.”

She smiled again and cracked her neck, never taking her eyes off me.

“Good,” she said, lifting up Stormchaser, her double-bladed axe, and rolling her shoulders. “Tonight, our conversation will be about death…yours.”

She ran at me.