Free Gargoyle Quest by William Massa Page B

command of a magical puppeteer.  
    “The Archer collection, where do you keep the pieces?”
    The question hung in the air and for a moment as her mind threatened to go blank.  
    Keep it together. Think!  
    Rhianna sucked in a deep breath of air. She could push through this as long as she stayed focused on facts. Approaching the question like an academic problem calmed her.  
    Catching her breath, she mentally reviewed the information at her disposal: Real estate tycoon Robert Archer had loaned several pieces of art from his private collection to the MET for a six-month period. His great-great grandfather had used his wealth to assemble an impressive collection of medieval artifacts during his lifetime, and the collection had remained in the family for generations. As far as Rhianna could recall, the pieces consisted mostly of paintings and medieval furniture, not books. A carved wooden throne, an ornate suit of armor, and an iron maiden were among the highlights of the exhibit. She would definitely have remembered a medieval text on magic.
    “All the Archer pieces are here, in this room. But there’s no grimoire in the collection. Look for yourself.”  
    The warlock considered this. “Items of great value have a tendency to remain hidden,” he mused. “The book is here. I can feel it.”  
    The warlock’s intense gaze swept over the displays. He carefully examined the wooden throne and then turned to the iron maiden. Most people had heard of the heavy metal band of the same name, but iron maidens were actually medieval torture devices. The contraption had originated in Germany around the fourteenth century and resembled a steel Egyptian mummy sarcophagus, tall enough to enclose a human being.  
    For a moment, the warlock was distracted—and Rhianna recognized an opportunity. She had no idea what she was up against, but after Cael, she’d vowed never to play the role of the helpless victim again. Fighting back a wave of pity and revulsion, she turned to Robert. A beat later she spotted what she was looking for: his pistol. There was no hesitation as she went for the gun. In one smooth motion, she sprung to her feet, gun leveled at the fiend. The warlock almost seemed amused by her desperate effort.
    She squeezed the trigger and the stench of metal and cordite singed her nostrils. At first, every shot seemed to have missed the mage. Then Rhianna saw three scarlet bullet holes open up in the guard’s torso, putting the poor soul out of his misery. Without a mouth to release a scream, the guard merely twitched violently under the onslaught of the bullets.  
    Shock washed over Rhianna. She’d aimed at the warlock. There was no way the shots meant for the mage could have hit the now lifeless guard behind her.  
    Oh my God, what have I done?
    How could she have ever thought that a mere firearm would prove effective against a man wielding such terrifying power?  
    Rhianna screamed and dropped the gun.  
    As the sound rang out through the medieval wing of the museum, she caught sight of three men and one woman rapidly closing in on the warlock. To her surprise there was no fear in their faces, only grit and determination. With methodical precision, crossbows slipped from underneath black trench coats. How they could’ve gotten the weapons past museum security was beyond her. Maybe these newcomers had tapped into their own brand of magic.  
    For a crazed second, she wondered how these strangers could think crossbows would inflict damage where bullets had failed. The thought was abruptly cut off as the first two bolts seared overhead. Nonplussed, the man in black waved his hands and the iron maiden shot up into the air just in time to intercept the volley of bolts.
    Eyes blazing, the man in black now brought up his arms in a rapid move and cast the iron maiden at his attackers. It crashed into two of her would-be rescuers, sending them sprawling. Before the third could fire his crossbow, the iron maiden tore