by R. L. King
He looked at the shabby wooden door. Kolinsky hadn’t even left his customary note revealing when he’d be back. It was definitely beginning to look like he was avoiding Stone on purpose.
In frustration, he pounded on the door several times. “Stefan, damn you, if you’re in there—if you can hear me, wherever the hell you are—open the door! I’ve got to talk to you!”
He took a step back and waited.
Nothing happened. He hadn’t really expected it to, but it had felt good to let out some of his excess energy.
Well, all right—you can try to avoid me. But let’s see what you think of this.
Before he thought about how foolish his plan might be, he raised his shield, then focused his magic on the door lock and tried to pop it open. If it was a magical lock—or if Kolinsky had added his own customized wards to deal with anyone who attempted to break in—he might be in trouble.
The lock sprang open instantly, with no more effort required than any other mundane mechanism.
Okay, that’s odd…
Once again not giving himself a chance to back out, he shoved open the door and descended the familiar staircase to the shop. As he did, he remembered what happened when Zack Beeler, the ward-breaking wild talent Trin Blackburn had hired to break into Kolinsky’s shop before, had managed to do so. He’d been captured almost instantly, held immobile and floating above the floor as Kolinsky and Stone had discussed what to do about him.
Would he suffer the same fate, ending up at Kolinsky’s mercy—which might not be abundant in this case?
He didn’t care. He doubted Kolinsky would kill him, at least not before giving him a chance to explain his presence.
He grasped the knob of the door at the foot of the stairs. When nothing zapped him, he tried to turn it.
Unlike the one at street level, this one wasn’t even locked. The knob turned easily. Stone switched to magical sight and stepped into the darkened room, raising a light spell around his hand. “Stefan?”
For the briefest of instants, less than a second, he thought he had entered the wrong place. The room that flashed in front of him as he entered was about the right size to be Kolinsky’s shop, but instead of the familiar fine but threadbare carpeting and scattered display cases, he saw only an empty space with white walls, a concrete floor, and a nonfunctional light bulb hanging from the ceiling.
That lasted only for an instant, though—not long enough for Stone to get any kind of good look—and then the usual shop was back. Stone frowned, sharpening his magical sight, but all he could see now were the cases, Kolinsky’s roll-top desk along the back wall, and a few other cabinets and storage cubbies lining the sides. The only other exit was the closed door leading to the storeroom. Same as ever, in other words. The only missing feature was Kolinsky himself.
“Stefan?” he called again, more loudly. He moved into the room, tensing, expecting magical energy to grip him at any moment and hold him fast like a fly in a spider’s web. “Come on! I don’t know if you can hear me, or if you’ve got some kind of magical alarm that alerts you when someone enters your shop, but I’ve got to talk to you. It’s about the rifts.”
Still no reply. The room remained silent and undisturbed, with the faintest hint of furniture polish on the air.
“Stefan!” Stone clenched his fists and tried to keep his voice even, turning in place to take in the whole room. “Damn you, you can’t make me agree not to discuss this with anyone and then disappear on me! I’ve found a new one that isn’t on the maps, and if you don’t get your arse in here and explain that to me, I’m going right back up there and close the bloody thing, and damn the consequences!”
“Alastair.”
Stone spun toward the back of the room at the soft, unruffled voice.
Stefan Kolinsky, dressed in his usual immaculate, old-fashioned black suit, stood near the storeroom door, regarding Stone with the mild interest of a parent observing a child hard at work on a project.
“Bloody hell, Stefan!” Stone bit out, glaring at the black mage. Had he come in through the storage room, or merely appeared there? “Where did you come from?”
Kolinsky didn’t reply, except to move over with the same unhurried calm and take his seat behind the rolltop desk. He regarded Stone with an expression so blank he might as well have been sitting across from him at a high-stakes poker game. “Perhaps you might wish to tell me why you have broken into my shop.”
Stone paced the floor near the desk, suddenly brimming with restless energy. His heart pounded hard as he wondered what Kolinsky would do with him. “Look—I’m sorry about that, but you’re not an easy man to get hold of. If you’d get a bloody phone like the rest of the civilized world, I wouldn’t have needed to break in, would I?” He wheeled on the black mage and fixed him with a hard stare. “Besides, we both know I’d never have got in here if you hadn’t let me, don’t we?”
Kolinsky inclined his head in acknowledgement. “True. And you are fortunate that I did allow it.”
Stone thought briefly about what might have befallen him otherwise. Kolinsky wasn’t known for his mercy, especially against those who moved against him. “Well, thank you for not frying me to a cinder. And thank you for finally turning up. You’ve been avoiding me ever since Caventhorne.”
“I have,” Kolinsky admitted. “Although in my defense, I have had other matters to attend to as well. Do not flatter yourself that my absence is wholly related to you.”
“Whatever it was related to, I need to talk to you. About a lot of things, as it happens, but one in particular right now. We can talk about what’s going on between you and Aldwyn Stone later.”
Kolinsky’s expression settled into a resolute calm. “No, I do not think we can.”
“What?”
“I told you before, Alastair—that is a subject I am not ready to discuss yet. Please respect my wishes and do not ask questions. I will not answer them, so you will be wasting both our time.”
Stone’s anger grew, but he paused to get it under control. Yes, he was pissed at Stefan because the man obviously knew far more than he was telling about his newly-revived ancestor, but that was for another time. “I’m not here about Aldwyn. I’m here because I’ve discovered another rift. A big one. One that’s not included in the source I used to find the others.”
Kolinsky tilted his head, and his eyes narrowed. “Indeed.”
“Indeed. Yes. It’s not far from here, and it’s powerful. Powerful enough to warp a nearby ley line.”
That got a noticeable reaction. Kolinsky leaned forward in his chair, his brow furrowing. “Are you certain?”
“Quite certain. I was just looking at it earlier tonight. That’s the only reason I found it—because I happened to be searching for something else, and I spotted a minor ley line acting suspiciously. I followed it, and discovered a rift hidden in an old warehouse. It was trying to…I don’t know…suck the ley line into itself.”
“Did it succeed?” Stone had Kolinsky’s full attention now.
“No. Not quite. The two were in fairly close proximity to each other, but then the ley line seemed to break free of the rift’s hold and return to its normal direction. But it was a bloody odd thing to see. I’ve never even heard of such a thing. Have you?”
For several seconds, Kolinsky didn’t reply. He turned in his chair, studying a stack of papers on his desk.
“Stefan?”
“Yes. I have heard of it—in theory, at least. But not…recently.”
“Not recently.” Stone resumed his pacing, once again cursing Kolinsky for his secretive ways. “You’re saying this could have happened last time the rifts popped up. Whenever the hell that was.”
“Yes.”
“So…what’s it mean?” A chill ran through him, and he almost didn’t want to ask the next question. “Is this my fault? Because I closed the other rifts? Is this what you were telling me about, where others might occur spontaneously if the normal pressure points were blocked?”
“The truth.”
He sighed. “The truth. Then yes. If you are correct and another rift has spontaneously manifested in an unexpected location, it has probably done so because the others were closed.”
Stone let his breath out and bowed his head. “Then this is my fault.”
“Possibly it is. But there is no point in regret now. What is, is. You can do nothing to change it at this point.”
“I could close it.” Stone’s heart beat faster and he stopped again, facing Kolinsky. “This one isn’t in one of the expected locations. Does that matter? If I close this one, will it cause even more to pop up?”
“I cannot say. As far as I am aware, it was not an issue during the previous time.” He pondered, picking up a fine pen and writing a note on a nearby sheet of paper. “But based on my knowledge and study of previous instances, I suggest it would be highly dangerous to attempt to close the new rift.”
“Because it will spawn more?”
“That, and because it will likely react unpredictably. As I said, I have heard of the phenomenon where a rift and a ley line interact with each other. The fact that it occurred—even considering the ley line is a minor one—indicates that the associated rift is both highly powerful and not behaving in the same way as its standard brethren.”
“So you’re saying I could cause more trouble by closing it then by leaving it alone?”
“Yes.”
“But Stefan—” Stone made a futile gesture, the sudden need to move overtaking him again. “It’s in the middle of a bloody city this time. A big one. I think it’s somewhere that doesn’t get much mundane traffic—an abandoned warehouse—but it won’t stay abandoned forever. How will it affect any mundanes who blunder into it? Sure, they can’t see it—it’s not visible except to magical sight, like the others—but who’s to say what kind of effect it might have on them?”
“Who is to say what kind of effect a hurricane or a blizzard would have on the mundane population?” Kolinsky asked mildly.
Stone glared at him. “You’re saying I should treat this thing like a force of nature? An act of bloody God? Just let it do what it does, and then let the mundanes clean up the mess after?”
“I am saying,” Kolinsky said, refusing to be baited, “that you have little choice. It would be unwise in the extreme to close the rift. I am not even certain that you could do so. You are powerful, but I think such a thing might require techniques you do not possess.”
Unbidden, Aldwyn’s words came back to Stone: I have access to vast stores of knowledge—old knowledge—that has long been lost in this world. Practices and techniques that have not seen the light of day since before most of the nations of this world existed. I can share them with you. He had no doubt Kolinsky had access to the same techniques. The black mage wouldn’t teach him…but his ancestor had offered to do so.
Kolinsky must have noticed something change in his expression, because he frowned slightly. “Alastair, I do not know what you are considering, but I ask you: have I ever lied to you?”
“No.” Stone bowed his head. He recalled the instant-long flash of an empty room and a bare bulb, then felt shame that he’d even considered approaching Aldwyn, the man who’d murdered at least forty-one innocents to further his own ends. “Not that I’m aware of, anyway. Though I suspect if you wanted to, you’d have no trouble.”
“You might be surprised.”
Stone flung himself into a chair. “So what do I do, Stefan? How do I just…let this thing be, now that I know it’s here? What will it do if I leave it alone? Will its power…I don’t know…seep out and affect mundanes? Mages, even?”
“How far did its influence extend? I am sure you must have taken some readings.”
“Not far. The warehouse has a razor-wire fence around it, and a lot of empty space between the fence and the building. I couldn’t feel anything once I got out into the space.”
“So it is not likely that large numbers of mundanes will stumble into it.”
Stone sighed. “No. I suppose not. But still—”
“My advice would be to leave it alone, then.”
Of course it was. But then, Kolinsky didn’t care about what happened to mundanes who got caught in the crossfire of mages’ machinations. “There could be more, you know,” he mumbled.
“Do you know of more?”
“No, of course not. But I didn’t know about this one until tonight. As I said, I wasn’t even looking for it. I was trying to track down a group of teenage mages committing petty crimes in Oakland.”
Kolinsky arched one eyebrow. “This is the best use of your time?”
Stone glared at him again. “Since when did you give a damn what I do with my time?”
Kolinsky’s eyebrow settled back down. “Forgive me. Of course you are correct—this is none of my concern, nor do I wish for it to be.”
“Look—I need to be able to reach you. In case I find any more of these rifts. I assume you want to know where they are, especially the spontaneous ones.”
Kolinsky made a minimal shrug with one shoulder. “Not particularly. I have no plans to interact with them.”
“Maybe you don’t. But if one of the damned things turns up in the middle of Union Square, I might need to take a bit more of an active interest. I get that I should leave them alone, but I can’t stand by and let a bunch of mundanes get hurt because I did nothing.”
He stopped, meeting Kolinsky’s gaze face-on. “Please, Stefan—just don’t ghost me again. I promise, if you’re not ready to talk about Aldwyn yet, I won’t ask. I’ve got other avenues to investigate that don’t involve you. But if you’re going to insist I keep this whole rift thing to myself, I need someone to talk to about it.”
Kolinsky held his gaze as he considered. Finally, he nodded once. “As you wish. If you need to contact me, do as you have done tonight. Enter my shop.” He indicated his desk. “Leave a note regarding the purpose of your inquiry, and I will respond at my earliest convenience.” His eyes narrowed. “But have a care—I am not a minion to be summoned at your leisure. I have many important matters that require my attention, and I will not react kindly to being diverted from them without good reason. Your teenaged miscreants or a few inconvenienced mundanes do not constitute a good reason.”
“Yes, I get it.” At this point in their long association, Stone had to occasionally remind himself not to allow too much familiarity with Kolinsky. There was still a lot more he didn’t know about the man than what he did know, and forgetting that could come back to bite him. “I won’t bother you unless it’s important.” He looked around the shop again, switching to magical sight, but saw nothing unexpected. “One more thing before I go, though.”
“Yes?”
“Verity—my former apprentice—is suspicious. She’s helping me hunt down the teenage mages, and I happened to be on the phone with her when I discovered the ley line. She already knows about the rifts. Hell, she got caught in one of them. I want your permission to share what I’ve learned with her.”
“You took an oath, Alastair.”
“I know I did. That’s why I’m asking. As I recall, the oath stated that I wouldn’t reveal anything about the rifts without your permission. So I’m asking your permission.” He offered a faint smile. “It’s to your advantage, Stefan. Verity’s quite bright and an excellent sounding board. If I talk to her, I might not have to drag you away from whatever momentous projects you’re dealing with.”
Kolinsky considered. “I will…give it some thought,” he said at last. “But as I am sure you are aware, revealing any of this to another individual would require a similar oath on her part.”
“Of course. You think about it, and let me know. For now, I suppose I’ve got no choice but to leave the rift alone. I do plan to keep an eye on it, though. If it starts getting up to shenanigans—like sucking that ley line into itself—then things might change.�
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“If the rift is strong enough to draw a ley line fully inside itself, many things will change.” Kolinsky closed his desk and stood. “Now, if you will excuse me.”
Stone didn’t bother to ask him what he meant by that. He knew he wouldn’t get a reply.
22
Prague
Ian Woodward Stone had traveled all over the world since his father had introduced him to the Overworld portal network, but he always found himself returning to Prague.
Maybe it was because it had been one of the first places he’d visited when he’d begun his world tour, accompanied by a smoking hot young mage who’d assured him that both the nightlife and the magical community there were unparalleled. The relationship hadn’t lasted, but Ian’s love affair with the city had.
He was back now, following a brief trip to Tokyo with some other friends. He’d enjoyed Japan and planned to go back there again sometime, but after two of his companions had a bad—and loud—breakup in the middle of Ueno Park, Ian had decided to make himself scarce until everybody had gotten over it.
He’d thought about going back to California to visit his father, or perhaps to England to check out Caventhorne, but he decided it might be best to give Dad a bit more advance notice before showing up. He’d been meaning to get back to the magical library in Prague and look up a few of the techniques his friends had been teaching him, and this seemed a good time to do it while figuring out where he wanted to go next. Besides, he might even find himself some new friends to travel with. Prague was one of the few cities he knew of with a thriving magical population, including a handful of small nightclubs that catered to the arcane community.
The research had gone well, at least for the couple hours he could bring himself to do it before boredom had driven him away. He had no idea how his father could spend as much time as he did poring through dusty old books—sure, the information in them was often interesting, but Ian preferred the “learn by doing” method whenever possible. He wondered if he’d ever find an instructor whose style he could deal with; despite his father’s not-so-subtle hints about wanting him to do just that, every time he thought about it he discovered he still wasn’t ready to give up his eclectic way of learning to settle down to a more academic style.
