by R. L. King
“Score one for inconvenience.” He patted the sofa next to him. “Verity—if you want me to go, I’ll go. Just say the word. But if you want someone to listen…well, I’m good at that.”
She remained where she was for a long time. He watched the indecision dancing in her aura and stayed silent, waiting. Finally, she let out a loud sigh, stalked over, and dropped down next to him. “It sucks, Doc.”
“I know.” He didn’t move closer, letting her come to him if she chose. “Do you want to tell me about it?”
“Not really. I don’t want to dwell on it. I’m probably blowing it all out of proportion anyway. It’s not like they—like Kyla—told me to fuck off or anything.” She leaned in, resting her head against his shoulder.
“Well…that’s something.”
“Yeah. I hope they’ll come around, anyway. It’s just…it all kind of came crashing down on me, you know? I moved up here to be closer to Kyla and Hezzie, and after what happened, I feel like maybe I might have screwed everything up.” She turned her head, her searching gaze meeting his. “They’re pissed because I didn’t let them have Daisy, and I don’t blame them. But what was I supposed to do?”
“I understand. You didn’t have a lot of choice, did you?”
“No. I know they’re upset about what happened to Greta. Hell, I’m upset about what happened to Greta. But Daisy’s just a kid. She needs help, not a bunch of people hunting her down. It’s Ben we need to find. He’s the one behind this.” She sat up, carelessly waving her hand to switch on the light on the table. “Doc, that reminds me. I wanted to tell you a couple things Daisy told me last night. Things I didn’t tell Jason, because I figured I’d talk to you right away. Then they got lost in…all this.” She spread her hands to encompass everything around her.
“What did you find out?” He didn’t smile, but inwardly he was pleased to see her dejected aura perking up. It was just as he’d hoped: talking about their shared mission seemed to have taken her mind off the Harpies.
“She said she thinks there’s something wrong with Ben—that he started out as a nice guy, but now he’s gotten scary. And…she said he found her and the other kids and told her about their magic, even though they didn’t know they had any.”
Stone stared at her in shock. “You’re sure?”
“Yeah. She said she had no idea she could even do magic until he told her.”
“So it’s not like the other girl—the one at the mall? That one already knew she had magic when he found her, which was odd enough, but Daisy was a latent talent?”
“All of them were, I think. She didn’t say how Ben found them, but apparently he did. That’s big, isn’t it?”
“That’s bloody big. Just—give me a moment.” Stone sat up straight, thoughts spinning as he tried to come up with some way Ben Halstrom could have identified latent talents. That sort of thing should have been impossible, under normal circumstances. Even he, with all his power, couldn’t see unmanifested magical talent without a close astral examination. As far as he knew, no mage could.
But mundanes shouldn’t spontaneously develop the ability to see auras, or heal injuries, either.
Bloody hell.
Verity gripped his arm. “Doc, you’re on to something, aren’t you? Did you find out something last night? Did your tracking ritual work?”
“No. It didn’t work. I couldn’t find him.”
“But—that shouldn’t happen, right? Could you not find his stuff? Something to use for the ritual?”
“No, Blum took me to the storage unit where they’re keeping his and his mother’s belongings. It should have worked. But…it didn’t,” he finished lamely, realizing he might have talked himself into a corner.
Verity was quick to pick up on his discomfort. Her eyes narrowed. “What do you mean, ‘it didn’t’? There must be a reason. If he’s dead or out of range, the ritual would tell you that. So you’re evading. You know something, don’t you? Something you’re not telling me.”
“Verity, I—”
She glared. “Doc, this is bullshit. I thought we were working together on this. If you’ve got something you aren’t telling me, then why should I—”
She stopped, her glare sharpening. “Wait a minute.”
“What?”
“Is this about that business with the ley line? The one you told me there was something wrong with?”
Damn, but he needed dimmer friends sometimes. He didn’t answer.
She grabbed his shoulders and spun him around to face her, burning her gaze into his eyes. “You’re holding back. You promised you’d tell me if you discovered the ley line business and the magical crimes were connected. Are they?”
Tension building, he shook free of her grip and stalked to the window. “Yes. They’re related. But I can’t say how.”
“What do you mean, you can’t say how? You don’t know? Or you won’t tell me?”
His heart beat faster. “I can’t tell you.”
“Why not?” she demanded. And then she was there, standing behind him. “Why can’t you tell me?”
He let his breath out and faced her. He owed her this, at least. “Verity, I literally can’t. I took a magical oath, and I couldn’t break it if I wanted to.”
Her eyes widened. “A magical oath? With who?”
“Kolinsky.” He half-expected to be unable to even speak the name. But then, magical oaths were precise things, and he was bound only by the specific terms he’d agreed to. He couldn’t tell Verity about the rift, but—
But wait. He could work with this. With what she already knew, he could work around it.
“Kolinsky? The guy you trade favors with? He knows about this, but you can’t tell me?” Her brow furrowed and her eyes flashed. “I thought we didn’t keep secrets, Doc. Maybe I was wrong about that. Maybe I’m not supposed to keep secrets, but it’s okay for you? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”
She started to turn away, but he grabbed her wrist in a gentle grip. “I want to tell you, Verity. Believe me, I do. I hate keeping secrets from you. But in this case, I can’t. I physically can’t speak the words, or write them down, or anything else. Those were the terms of the oath, and it’s too strong for me to break. But I think I see a way I can circumvent the oath, if we’re careful.”
“How?”
He considered his words carefully. “You know about the ley line.”
“Yeah, you told me before. So whatever this oath is, it’s not about that?”
“Not…directly.” He looked at her, making a ‘go on’ gesture. She’d have to do most of the heavy lifting for this.
She paced. “Okay. But the ley line is related to it.”
“Yes.”
“And you said something’s messing with the ley line. That there’s something wrong with it. That’s not supposed to be able to happen, right?”
“No. It’s a minor ley line, but even so, this is highly troubling.”
“Okay, so…something’s upset the ley line, and it’s in Oakland. You were near the Fruitvale area when you told me about it.”
“Yes. And, as an aside, the police found Ben Halstrom’s stripped van very close to that location. So he was near there too, shortly before the magical crime wave began.”
“Wait…” She let him go, whirling away as she thought. “So whatever messed with this ley line might have messed with Ben too. Maybe it’s the reason he can find latent mages?”
“And probably why he’s becoming unstable. Yes.”
“But it’s not the ley line itself?”
“I don’t think so. I’m reasonably sure it isn’t.”
“So…it’s whatever is causing the problem with the ley line. But why would you think I’d know about—”
She stopped, and Stone flashed her an encouraging grin. It wouldn’t have been any more obvious that she’d caught on if a literal lightbulb had popped into the air above her head.
“Wait,” she said, taking both his arms in a crushing grip. “This
is another one of those things, isn’t it? Those rifts, like the one in Wyoming?” Her voice held triumph now.
He didn’t answer. He wanted to, but he couldn’t.
He didn’t need to, though. “That’s got to be it! You found another one, didn’t you? And you couldn’t say anything about it because of this oath. Come to think about it, you haven’t mentioned them at all since just after we got back from Wyoming. Is that why?’
Once again, he didn’t answer, except to squeeze her hands. He couldn’t put the feeling he was experiencing into words: it was a tightness in his head that wasn’t pain, but more pressure, as if something was pushing into his brain and preventing him from forming the words.
“Okay,” she said, breathless, letting him go. “That has to be it, because you’re not saying anything. You can’t say anything. But there’s another rift in Oakland, and it’s causing trouble. And you haven’t closed it, right?”
Stone swallowed hard, trying to force even a single, simple word past the oath’s barrier, but he couldn’t do it.
“You haven’t closed it, or else Ben wouldn’t have these powers anymore. So that means there’s got to be a reason you haven’t closed it. And that’s part of the oath too. You can’t tell me why, can you?”
When he still didn’t answer, she nodded. “Okay. I get it. So this rift is somewhere in Oakland and it’s messing with at least one guy, and you can’t close it. Can I see it?”
The cotton-headed feeling increased. Stone took a step back and dropped onto the couch, suddenly tired. “Verity, I—”
“No. Wait. It’s okay. I get it, you can’t tell me.” Her expression turned sly. “But I know where this ley line is. You told me. So if I went over to that part of Oakland to look at it, maybe I might be able to find what’s messing with it. You found it, so I probably can too. And if you just happened to come with me…”
Stone’s heart thudded. He didn’t think that was a good idea at all. The last thing he wanted tonight was Verity anywhere near that unstable and unpredictable rift. Once again, he chose his words carefully. “I…don’t think you should go look at the ley line. I’m not sure it’s safe.”
She snorted. “Like that would stop you. I’ll be careful. Look, Doc—I’ve been moping in my apartment all day. I need to get out. I need to feel like I’m doing something useful. So I’m going, whether you want me to or not—and honestly, I think you do want me to. So are you coming? We can—”
A knock on the door interrupted her.
Stone tensed, suddenly and irrationally certain that the visitor was Stefan Kolinsky, showing up to punish him for trying to circumvent the terms of his oath.
Verity’s vision went fuzzy for a moment and her shoulders slumped. “It’s Kyla.”
Relief flooded Stone. Maybe Kyla’s presence would distract Verity from her plan to go to Oakland. “Should I go? I could sneak out the back window—”
“No way. You’re not going anywhere. Just—stay here a minute. I’ll tell her I’m busy and then we’ll go.”
Before Stone could protest, Verity had crossed the room and opened the door.
As she’d predicted, Kyla stood in the hall. She wore jeans and a gray T-shirt, and her expression looked troubled. “Hey, V.”
“Hey, Kyla.”
Kyla appeared not to have noticed Stone in the background. He felt like a voyeur and wondered if he should make himself scarce, but there weren’t many places he could do that.
“Can I come in?” Kyla was asking. “I thought we could talk.”
“Uh—this isn’t really a good time. I was about to leave.”
Stone didn’t miss the reluctance in Verity’s tone, her loyalties obviously split between a necessary conversation with her girlfriend and tracking down the mysterious rift in Oakland.
Kyla looked past Verity and spotted Stone. Her eyes narrowed and her tentative expression hardened. “Oh. I get it. You’re busy.”
“Verity,” Stone began. “I could—”
“No,” she insisted, shooting a glare over her shoulder. “You stay put. Both of you stay put.” She redirected the glare to Kyla. “Don’t give me that, Kyla. You don’t call all day—what am I supposed to do? Sit here and mope until I hear from you?”
“I—”
“I know. We need to talk. I want to talk. But it can’t be right now, okay? I have to go.”
“Go where?” Kyla looked at Stone again, obviously putting two and two together.
“It doesn’t matter. Can I call you later? Maybe tomorrow?”
Kyla shrugged. “Yeah. Whatever. You do what you need to do, I guess.”
Stone, watching with magical sight, bowed his head. Kyla’s aura showed hurt, frustration, and a little bit of anger. “Verity—”
“No, Alastair.” Her voice was sharp now. Determined. “Kyla, I’ll talk to you later, okay?” She motioned for Stone to follow her out.
There was clearly no point in arguing with her when she got like this. Wordlessly he left the apartment, trailing behind her as she stepped around Kyla and closed and locked the apartment door. As she passed her girlfriend, the two of them exchanged a sad, regretful look for only a second, and then she was past and striding down the hallway toward the stairs. Kyla remained where she was, and didn’t watch the two of them as they left.
Verity waited until they’d reached the ground floor before allowing her shoulders to slump. “Shit…” she whispered, surprising Stone with the amount of despair she could put into the single word.
He squeezed her hand. “It will be all right. You two will work it out. Didn’t you see her aura? She wants to talk to you.”
“Yeah, but will she still want to talk to me after this?”
“Look—I get it. If you want to go back up there, I’ll clear out. We can always…go look at the ley line some other time. I doubt it’s going anywhere.”
But she shook her head. “No. You’re right—Ben’s got to be stopped. If what Daisy says is true and he’s unstable, maybe this will help us figure out a way to deal with him.” She threw one final glance up the stairs, where Kyla had still not appeared, and then stalked out the door. Stone hurried after her.
On their way out to the car, Verity suddenly spoke up. “Oh, Doc?”
“Yes?”
“I forgot in the middle of all this—you said in your message that you needed my help with something that wasn’t urgent. Did you get it handled?”
“Er…yes. All good.” Stone touched his shoulder as he walked. When he’d gone to take a shower this morning he’d studied what had formerly been a nasty slash, even before he healed it. Now it was nothing but a tiny pink scar where its deepest point had been. He’d stared at it in the mirror for several moments, his astonishment tempered with a growing sense that something had changed with him—probably on Calanar. But he had enough things to occupy his mind now—that one would have to wait for later.
And at this point, he had no intention of telling anyone else about it. Not even Verity.
39
They took the Bay Bridge across to Oakland. The Saturday-night traffic was heavy, and by the time they fought their way through San Francisco and across the bridge, it was after ten.
“How did you find this place?” Verity asked. Stone was driving; after a brief discussion they’d decided to take the BMW instead of her SUV. “How did you even know where to look?”
“It was the ley line that tipped me off. I haven’t got them all memorized, of course, not even around here. But when I was driving around, hoping I might spot something suspicious but not really expecting to, I noticed one that seemed out of place. That’s when I called you to check.”
“What were you looking for, though?”
“I have no idea, honestly. I was getting a bit desperate, and I wanted to do something. But then when I noticed the ley line pulled off its expected path, naturally that caught my interest.”
“Shouldn’t that be causing a lot of problems? I didn’t even think it was possible. Ley l
ines are part of the earth’s energy. To pull one off course—”
“Yes. You’re having exactly the same thought process I had at the time.”
“So this rift must be big. Bigger than the other ones. Right?”
Stone didn’t answer.
“Oh, right, you can’t say. It’s okay. Are we getting close to where the ley line is getting wonky?”
“Not too far now. But Verity…”
“What?”
Stone gripped the steering wheel in frustration. There were so many things he wanted to tell her—the feeling he’d experienced when he got near the rift, his concern that if it could affect Ben Halstrom so strongly it might affect her as well, and especially the concern that she would decide she needed to try to close it. The latter was unlikely—because he’d used Calanarian energy to do it the last few times and he’d never told her how he did it, he doubted she’d be capable of it—but he had no idea how the thing would react if it felt threatened. It might lash out at her in a way she couldn’t defend against.
But he couldn’t say any of those things. Every time he tried, the cotton-headed feeling increased, until he felt as if his entire skull was full of expanding foam. He shook his head in disgust. “Nothing.”
She touched his arm. “Doc, I’m not gonna be an idiot. You didn’t train me to go blundering into magical situations without studying them first. If you’re worried about something, don’t be. I just want to see it. If you have a reason why you didn’t close it, it would be stupid for me to try doing it until I know what that reason is.”
She watched the traffic in silence for a few more moments, then said, “Did you ever try talking to him?”
“Who?”
“Kolinsky. I mean, I already know about the rifts, so it’s not like you’d be telling me something new. I guess the only new part is why you aren’t closing them, but maybe if you tell him I know about them already he’ll at least let you talk about them with me.”
“I did talk to him. He’s…thinking about it. And unfortunately, since he doesn’t use phones like normal people, I can’t just ring him up and ask him to get on with it.”
