The Green Lama: Unbound (The Green Lama Legacy Book 3) by Adam Lance Garcia Page A

normal circumstances this sight would mean little to a girl with Montana running through her veins, but Jean knew they weren’t just taking in the scenery. She ran an exasperated hand through her hair. “You’re gonna ask me to climb a mountain. You never said anything about climbing a mountain! Why would you hide something on top of a mountain?”
    Aïas furrowed his brow. “Thought that would be obvious.”
    “Try me.”
    “Because no one can get up there.”
    Jean nodded her head sideways, conceding the point. She looked up at the mountain and tried to calculate the height. She thought she could see something at the summit, almost like a building with glowing white pillars, but before she could get a better look, a cloud moved past and it was gone.
    “How far up?”
    “Top.”
    “I hate you,” she grumbled as she stormed off.
    “No. No, you don’t,” he said under his breath. “Not yet.”
    • • •
    “So, where is this chap you wanted us to meet, my good man?” Ken asked.
    Petros gulped down a shot of whiskey and shrugged. “Probably out doing whatever it is he is doing, so help yourself to a drink.”
    Ken looked over at Caraway. “What do you think, old boy?”
    “Yar,” Caraway said, an aggravated smile plastered on his face.
    “Two scotches, my friend,” Ken called to the bartender, who responded with a quizzical eyebrow.
    Petros shouted in Greek and the bartender quickly obliged, sliding them two glasses across the bar. Ken caught his easily, but Caraway succeeded only in batting it over with his fingers, spilling most of the liquor.
    “Your friend seems to be having a little trouble there,” Petros commented.
    “Uh… yes,” Ken began. “Lost his eye recently, I’m sad to say. Seagull, you see. Just came down and plopped it out,” he said, miming a bird’s beak attacking his right eye, ending with a demonstrative pop! He turned to Caraway. “Isn’t that right, old boy?”
    “Yar…” Caraway grumbled. He missed New York, but more than anything, he found himself, not for the first time, missing Francesca. He had so long ago given up on their marriage, that there was the promise of a new future together was exhilarating. To be dragged halfway across the world so soon after their renewed commitment just felt unfair. But he hadn’t been dragged… Not really. He could have told the Lama no, turned on his heel, and headed straight back home. But he didn’t. Sure, he had groused and complained, but he had climbed aboard that airship all the same. He hadn’t even hesitated a step when the gangplank came down. Maybe it was just a side effect of working with the Lama, or maybe it was just the badge, but had he been given the same option a hundred times, he knew he would have made the same decision a hundred times over. He sighed. Francesca was definitely going to kill him.
    But not before he killed Ken first. Watching the actor work undercover was a grating experience at best. For all his bluster the boy was clearly over his head, but here they were, dressed up like a couple of dime store pirates so they could… do what, exactly? Find out what happened to Jean? See if anyone knew about this ‘Kookookachoo’ monster? Caraway shook his head. All this supernatural hocus-pocus mumbo-jumbo was beginning to get to him, and if this was really tied to Brickman’s golem and the creatures from the Bartlett … What he wouldn’t give for a simple fistfight right now.
    “American, yes?” a woman said behind him.
    Caraway turned begrudgingly on his barstool to find himself face-toface with one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. She was slender, dressed in a simple yet attractive dress that showed off her figure while revealing nothing. Her raven hair was pulled back into a ponytail, a thin strand hanging over her left eye. She took a slow drag of her cigarette before she reiterated: “ American, yes?”
    “Yes,” Caraway replied, unintentionally dropping his cover. “How