Grimoire of the Lamb by Kevin Hearne Read Free Book Online

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    “Yes, there is. We’ll hide you well. I don’t want anyone to think you’re up for grabs.”
    I bought some food and water for Oberon and a few bones for him to gnaw on, and then we found a nice roof—there were plenty of the flat kind in Al Fayyum—where he could lounge unseen and undisturbed. After wishing him an excellent nap, I returned to the bazaar to purchase a good length of rope, a small anchor, and a single length of steel rebar. These would allow me to negotiate the moat.
    Back on top of Elkhashab’s wall—this time with camouflage cast on myself—I set the steel rebar about halfway into the hardened mud, with a little magical encouragement. After tying one end of the rope to the rebar and the other to the anchor, I created a binding between the steel of the anchor and the wall of Elkhashab’s back patio; his house was constructed of the same adobe material. Once I energized the binding, the anchor flew to the house and stuck there without me having to throw it.
    I had rather a lot of slack to take up—I’d overestimated the distance—and had to retie the rope on my end to make it taut.
    All this activity had drawn the attention of Elkhashab’s crocodiles. Even though I was in camouflage, once I began to swing over their heads they threw off their customary torpor and became quite excited, scrambling over one another and trying to position themselves underneath me. They smelled what they couldn’t see. Hissing, snapping fights broke out. I have never felt so potentially tasty.
    Once I had passed over the moat and it became clear that I wouldn’t fall into their waiting mouths, most of them gave up, but a few pursued me onto land, cleverly deducing that I’d have to drop down at some point. I slowed and found the small, hungry threads of their conscious minds and told them I wasn’t breakfast. Really. Go away. Back to the moat, there’s a good croc. They obeyed sluggishly, but they obeyed, one at a time, and I was able to make a soft landing next to the crocodile priest’s patio and dissolve my camouflage.
    A quick glance at said patio in the magical spectrum revealed that—besides beingexpensively furnished—it was warded. So were all the windows. I didn’t intend to use any of them, anyway. I snuck around counterclockwise, to the side of the house where there was a thin strip of glass block high up in place of a full window. My guess was that this was a bathroom. Chances of plumbing being right on the wall beneath the blocks were slim. The chances that Elkhashab had warded his bathroom were even slimmer.
    This adobe made of river mud was precisely the sort of thing I appreciated in construction materials. Though it took longer than I may have wished, it was not difficult to unbind it and watch a me-shaped hole appear in the wall. I still had to cut through some insulation with a dagger and then kick through some thin drywall inside, but it was easier than trying to dismantle an accomplished magician’s wards.
    The first of many shocks in Elkhashab’s house came in a whiff of cinnamon apples. He had one of those plug-in air fresheners glowing softly next to the sink. Neat patterned towels, fluffy and folded, waited to complete hand-washing rituals. Not what I expected from a crocodile priest. Apart from that, the room looked unused—far too clean for an evil warlock’s daily use. I concluded with satisfaction that this was a guest bathroom and Elkhashab wouldn’t check it when he came home.
    I stepped back outside for a moment to top off my bear charm. Fully charged, I crept back in with my faerie specs on, looking for more wards, and worrying a bit about mundane security as well.
    I closed the bathroom door behind me, hoping he wouldn’t notice in his hurry to play with the grimoire. Outside, there was a short hallway leading to what I presumed were bedroom doors. Elkhashab didn’t strike me as the sort to share the same side of the house with guests, so I ignored these