Read Online The Green Lama: Unbound (The Green Lama Legacy Book 3) by Adam Lance Garcia - Free Book Online

know what that means? The Lama wasn’t all that forthcoming.”
    “Cthulhu,” Dumont corrected.
    “Well, however the hell you pronounce it, it’s bad news,” Ken said. “Hands down. Trouble with a capital ‘Kuhchoo.’”
    “According to the Green Lama, whatever Cthulhu is,” Dumont began as he got out of his chair, thoughtfully placing his hands behind his back as he paced the room, “its power was somehow tied directly to the golem creature the Green Lama recently defeated.”
    “That Jean defeated,” Ken corrected.
    “And that I shot in the eye,” Caraway added.
    Dumont nodded in concession. “I also have reason to believe the creatures we faced aboard the Bartlett are somehow connected, though I cannot be certain.”
    Caraway’s gaze briefly dropped to the floor. While he claimed to have no memory of his possession, there were still nights when he awoke to the sensation of nails scraping against his spine, his mind filled with visions of the evil that had briefly taken hold of him only a few months prior.
    “Either way,” Dumont added, “there is no doubt that it is something much more terrifying than anything we have ever faced before.”
    Caraway snorted. Maybe it was just his imagination, but it was as if Dumont were trying to sound like the Green Lama. “No offense Jethro, everything we’re dealing with is more terrifying than you’ve faced before… unless you count Bette Davis. Look, I know you’re into that whole Buddhist thing like the Lama, but you,” he stifled a chuckle—“are not the Lama.”
    Dumont risked a smile, but otherwise disregarded Caraway’s comment. “From what we’ve witnessed it’s reasonable to assume that this town sits at the center of its power. And that power is growing.” Dumont paused and whispered quietly: “‘ Ph’nglui mglw’nafh Cthulhu R’lyeh wgah’nagl fhtagn .’”
    “Speaking Tibetan over there, Jethro?” Caraway asked.
    Dumont shook his head as though trying to clear the cobwebs from his mind. “It was something the Tulku heard… Though he failed to translate it, I think he believed that it portends the…” Dumont paused and shut his eyes, as if in pain. “That it’s an omen of the coming of Cthulhu.”
    “So, what do you think we should do?” Ken inquired. “Go around and ask everyone we meet: ‘Hey, what’s with all this Kuhchooloo jazz?’” he cordially asked a potted plant. “‘And while you’re at it, have you seen our friend Jean? Actress… redhead… carries a gun, accused of killing your mayor?’”
    Caraway shrugged, playing with his mustache. “Dumb as it sounds, that’s not quite the worst idea.”
    Ken raised a forefinger. “One problem, though: only one of us here speaks Greek,” he said, pointing his raised finger to Dumont. “And you saw how the shop owner got when he found out you were you .” Ken paused, his face falling. “Do you think she did it? Jean, I mean. You think she really killed the mayor like the shop owner said?”
    Dumont furrowed his brow. “If she did, I’m certain it was not without cause.”
    Caraway snorted. “ That was diplomatic. But you’re right, Clayton, if we’re gonna start doing any sort of detective work, going incognito ain’t an option for Jethro. There’s no way he can be anyone but Jethro Dumont.”
    “That’s an assumption,” Dumont said quietly. With his back turned, his associates failed to notice the smile touching the corner of his lips.
    “But, maybe we can use that,” Caraway said. “Jethro, you’ll be more use to us in the public eye, meeting with local officials and keeping everyone’s attention on you while Clayton and I work undercover in the town’s underbelly.”
    Ken held up both hands defensively. “Once again,” he said, now gesticulating heavily for effect, “we no speaka da Greek.”
    Dumont raised an eyebrow. “That will actually be to your benefit.”
    Ken massaged his temples. “Oh, I don’t like where this is