Gathering Storm: An Alastair Stone Urban Fantasy Novel (Alastair Stone Chronicles Book 17)

by R. L. King

  He pointed. “Stand here.” When Stone did, he drew a small knife, barely larger than a pocketknife, from the inner pocket of his suit jacket, and removed it from its sheath.

  Stone, watching with magical sight, narrowed his eyes. The little thing was practically incandescent with magical energy. “A blood oath?”

  “Yes. It requires only a drop from each of us.” He held out the hand that wasn’t holding the knife, and motioned for Stone to do the same.

  Point of no return, he thought, but did not hesitate. “Do it.”

  Kolinsky made a small nick on Stone’s palm, and then another on his own. When the beads of bright red blood welled up, he inclined his head. “Clasp my hand.”

  Stone did as requested, and immediately felt the hum of powerful energies swirling around them. His aura, purple, gold, and silver, swirled around Kolinsky’s purple, red, and eerie ultraviolet, mingling but each retaining their own distinct colors.

  Kolinsky studied it for a moment, and then said in a flat, steady voice, “Alastair Stone, by accepting this oath you swear never to reveal anything I share with you regarding the nature of the extradimensional rifts appearing around this world. You will tell no person or entity, living or dead, nor will you set the information into any form, including written, spoken, or recorded. This includes any inferences to which you might arrive based on the information I share. You will keep the information to yourself and yourself only. By accepting this oath you acknowledge that upon its execution, you will be physically and mentally incapable of sharing the information in any form, except with me, whom you know as Stefan Kolinsky, or anyone whom I specifically allow. If you agree, state your name and affirm as such.”

  As Kolinsky spoke, Stone felt the power growing around their clasped hands. The writhing auras, still separate but joined, swirled outward until they engulfed both of them, creating a glowing, shifting barrier around their bodies. Whom you know as Stefan Kolinsky, he thought idly. I wonder what your other names are…

  He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and then met Kolinsky’s gaze. “I, Alastair Stone, do so affirm.”

  His curiosity had gotten him into some deep trouble in the past—he hoped he hadn’t just made a big mistake.

  38

  As soon as he spoke the final word, the humming increased, flashing so bright and clear that for a second, Stone could see nothing but the beautiful, otherworldly colors. Something like a multi-pronged jolt of electricity passed through his body, flowing through his limbs and setting his nerves on edge. And then both the sensation and the colors were gone, as if someone had flipped a light switch.

  Stone took a staggering step back, breaking the contact, and stared at Kolinsky. “That’s it?”

  “It is a simple oath, but powerful. It will suffice.”

  “Right, then,” he said, quickly healing the nick on his palm and then taking another drink. “I kept my end of the bargain. Now you keep yours.”

  Kolinsky returned to his chair as if nothing had happened, and motioned for Stone to sit as well. “You are correct that the rifts have existed previously. I am not certain how you determined that, but it is true.”

  “How long ago?”

  “Several hundred years, the last time.”

  “The last time? You mean they’ve appeared more than once before?”

  “Yes. “

  “So…it’s a cyclical thing? They reappear every few hundred years?”

  “No. There is no way to predict their appearance. It could be a few hundred years, or a few thousand.”

  “How do you know this?”

  “That is not relevant to our discussion.”

  Stone tilted his head, glaring at Kolinsky. “You’ve either got access to research I’ve never heard of, or you’re actually old enough to remember. Honestly, neither one would surprise me. Go on, then—what are the rifts for? What’s their purpose, and why are your lot trying to get me to stop closing them? They’re dangerous. People have died, and been driven insane, because of them. How is that a good thing?”

  “It is not a good thing, per se. But in the greater scheme, it is an unfortunate but unavoidable consequence.”

  Stone started to protest, but Kolinsky held up a hand. “Consider the earthquake.”

  “What?” When Kolinsky did not reply, he leaned forward. “What the hell are you on about? What have earthquakes got to do with anything?”

  “You are, I trust, familiar with the way in which earthquakes occur.”

  Fine, I’ll run with it. For now. “Of course. The Earth is made up of a lot of tectonic plates, and they move around. Earthquakes occur when enough pressure builds between a pair of adjacent plates, causing them to slip, or jerk. The more pressure, the greater the quake’s intensity. The earthquake releases the pressure between the plates—sometimes violently, sometimes not.”

  “A simplistic explanation, but sufficient. Just so.”

  Stone pondered. “All right…I’m trying to work out why you’re telling me this. Are you saying there are some sort of magical tectonic plates? I’ve done some fairly extensive study of magic and ley lines, and I’ve never heard of any such thing.”

  “No. The analogy is more…general than that. But consider your own knowledge—how you were able to locate the rift in Wyoming.”

  Unable to sit still any longer, Stone got up and paced. “I located it because I have access to information that marked locations of rifts I’d already discovered. I extrapolated, assuming the other similar marks indicated similar rifts.”

  Kolinsky nodded, like a teacher encouraging a prized student. “Yes.”

  Stone narrowed his eyes. “Wait a moment…you said the rifts have appeared before—perhaps multiple times—and apparently in the same place each time, since I was able to use my source to locate them now. So what you’re implying is that their locations are on some sort of…magical pressure points? That makes sense, given that they’re all near ley line confluences—though unless my information is incomplete, they’re not near all ley line confluences, and the number of converging lines doesn’t seem relevant to whether a rift shows up.”

  Again, Kolinsky inclined his head. “Yes.”

  “So…the rifts appear periodically. And you and your lot don’t want them sealed, despite the fact that they’re bleeding magical energy into our world from other dimensions, and potentially causing harm.”

  “Yes.”

  He let his breath out, still pacing. “I know you, Stefan—you’re not a cruel man, but you don’t exactly work yourself into a fit of depression over a few mundanes being lost to collateral damage. So if you’re content to allow this to happen, it’s got to be because there’s some greater purpose served by it.”

  Kolinsky’s eyebrow rose. “You are doing very well, Alastair. You are correct in your assumption. Please continue. And once again: consider my analogy.”

  Stone took another drink and glanced at Raider, who was still lurking in the doorway. “Earthquakes…tectonic plates slipping…I don’t see what that has to do with—”

  He stopped. Slowly he turned back to face Kolinsky, the sudden chill running through his body mimicking the electrical surge he felt during the oath. “Bloody hell, Stefan…”

  “Do you see?” Kolinsky leaned forward in anticipation.

  “Bloody hell…” he whispered again, dropping back to the sofa. When he spoke again, he chose his words with careful precision. “Are you suggesting that these rifts are acting as…pressure valves? Fault lines, to continue your analogy? That the dimensions are bumping against each other like the Earth’s tectonic plates, and when they get too close to each other, these rifts appear?”

  “Yes. Excellent.” He leaned back. “I assume you are aware that it is common for adjacent dimensional spaces to…shift relative to each other over time, unless anchor points are established.”

  Stone thought about the Obsidian’s tower on Calanar. He thought about a band of insane women in England, waiting for the confluences to be
right every twenty years so they could attempt to summon a massively powerful entity from another plane.

  “Yes,” he said numbly. “I’m aware.”

  “The phenomenon you refer to as a ‘rift’ occurs when a pair of dimensional spaces come into particularly close contact with each other, in a location where the veil between the two spaces is weak. As you might suspect, not all of them occur at the same time—they tend to move in waves, for the most part, with those in a particular area appearing around the same period.”

  “So…” Stone said, speaking slowly, “right now, the ones in North America are active. Are you saying that if I tried to hunt down those in Europe, or Africa, I might not find them, even though I know where they should be?”

  “Likely not. As you well know, dimensional study is not an exact science, and even the others who are aware of this phenomenon cannot predict its specific activity. As it happens, you discovered it before many who should have noticed it sooner—because the intervals are not precise and can vary by thousands of years, it is not surprising that watching for their appearance is not high on these individuals’ list of priorities.”

  Stone swallowed and took a few breaths. “So…these rifts appear at the confluence of two dimensional spaces. They vent energy, taking the pressure off until the dimensions move out of phase again. Is that correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “And how long does this process take? I assume it’s not permanent.”

  “No. Again, the intervals are imprecise, and there is no way to predict the duration, but based on previous study it can be anywhere from a few weeks to several months. They wax and wane during that period, so they are not always at full strength.”

  “This is…” Stone ran both hands through his hair, trying to get his mind around everything Kolinsky was telling him—or not telling him—and then another chill struck him. “Dear gods…I see it now.” He leaped back up. “When I seal the rifts—that’s the equivalent of preventing the small earthquakes that occur when two plates run into each other. I’m not stopping the pressure—in fact, it’s building up more because it has nowhere to vent.”

  “Yes.” Kolinsky inclined his head gravely.

  “And—every time I do it, I’m making it worse.”

  “Precisely.”

  “So…if I were to continue sealing them, eventually the pressure would build to the point where…something blew.”

  “Yes.” Kolinsky leaned back further and crossed his ankle over his leg. “There is more to it than that—more that I cannot tell you. As I’ve said, I am taking a risk by coming here at all, but I have discussed it with others—some of the cooler heads among us—”

  “Like Madame Huan,” Stone said dully.

  “Yes, she was included in the discussion. And we have agreed that, given your dangerous combination of intelligence, stubbornness, power, and insatiable curiosity, it might be best to—with proper safeguards in place—share the knowledge with you. Now that I have, do you understand why you cannot be allowed to continue in your efforts?”

  Stone looked at his feet. “Because if I do, I might—what—blow up the world?”

  “No. I will tell you one other thing—something perhaps I should not tell you, since it is not directly relevant, but I think it will help to ease your mind about whatever decision you reach.”

  “Yes…?”

  “The appearance of the dimensional rifts is a natural thing. It is expected, and it must occur. If you continue to disrupt them, you will cause certain events to occur more quickly and violently than expected—but these events will occur, regardless.”

  “What events?” Stone jerked his head back up.

  “I cannot say, precisely. But they relate to an increased amount of magical energy in the world. This is natural, as I said. It has occurred before, and it will occur again. But if you interfere, what would normally be a controlled progression could instead become a violent cataclysm—and the world is not ready for that yet.”

  Stone stared at him. “Wait a moment. I know magic used to be more powerful, hundreds of years ago. Thousands of years ago. We know this because artifacts still exist that were created during those times, and they have power we couldn’t hope to re-create in the current time. Are you saying that level of magic is coming back?”

  Kolinsky rose. “I can say no more, Alastair. I have already told you more than some think wise. But everything I have said has been true—I give you my word.”

  He straightened his suit jacket and buttoned it. “So, I ask you—based on the information I have given you, do you see now why you cannot be permitted to continue interfering with the rifts?”

  Stone bowed his head. He didn’t want to see. Allowing rips in the fabric of reality to pump foreign magical energy into the world, bringing down unknown effects on the local mundane population, went against everything he believed in.

  But…

  He sighed. “Yes. I see it now. This is happening. I could stop it, but…”

  “But as you have been told previously, you could cause irreparable harm if you do.”

  “So I have to let innocent mundanes die, be driven insane, be transported to gods know where…” He barked a bitter little laugh, remembering a film he saw a long time ago, on a date with a young woman who’d been into Star Trek—“The needs of the many…”

  Kolinsky tilted his head, obviously not getting the reference. That was probably good—finding out Stefan Kolinsky was a Star Trek fan would have put the weird little cherry on top of the rest of this profoundly strange evening.

  “It is the only reasonable decision,” he said. “Do you agree?”

  Stone spread his hands. “I hate it…but yes. I agree.” He glanced up. “Stefan…”

  “Yes?”

  He didn’t want to ask the question, but he had to. “I’ve already sealed three of the rifts. Could I have already…contributed to something happening sooner than expected?”

  “I…fear that is possible, yes.” Kolinsky’s tone, as always, was even and unemotional. “Only time will tell at this point. We can only hope that the disruption has not been sufficient.”

  He retrieved his coat from the rack by the door. “I must go now. I am pleased we have come to this understanding, Alastair, and that my instincts to share this information with you were not in error.”

  Stone only nodded. As Kolinsky reached for the doorknob, he glanced up again. “May I ask one other question?”

  “You may ask. I cannot promise to answer.”

  “Why did they call me ‘scion’? Scion of what? Is this related to my family somehow?”

  For the first time, the black mage didn’t meet his gaze. “I cannot tell you that. It is something you will no doubt discover in time, but it is not something I can reveal at this point.”

  “But you know.”

  “Yes.”

  He let out another loud sigh. “Bloody hell, Stefan, but you can be irritating sometimes. You know that, right?”

  Kolinsky’s eyebrow rose. “So I have been told, on many occasions. Good night, Alastair.” Before Stone could reply, he slipped out through the door and closed it softly behind him.

  Stone stood there a moment, then strode over and flung it open. “Stefan—”

  But Kolinsky was gone. There was no sign of either him or a vehicle. Off in the distance, the lights on either side of the front gate revealed it to be closed and locked.

  Something soft brushed against Stone’s leg, and he glanced down to see Raider looking up at him with his usual curious, wide-eyed stare. He continued to stand for a moment, letting the chilly night air swirl around him as he watched the deserted yard, and then bent to scratch the cat behind the ears.

  “Come on, Raider,” he said, closing the door. “I think I need a good stiff drink.”

  When he reached the living room, his phone buzzed in his pocket.

  Eyes narrowed, thinking for a moment that Kolinsky was calling until he remembered Kolinsky didn’t use phones, he
pulled it out. He smiled at the familiar number.

  “Hello, Ian. How are you?” He dropped back down on the sofa and retrieved his drink, and Raider immediately settled into his lap.

  “Hi, Dad.” The connection sounded scratchy, and Ian perhaps sounded as if he’d had more to drink than Stone had. “It’s not too late there, is it? I can only talk for a few minutes—need to get some sleep after last night.”

  “I’ll just bet you do. I trust you’re still having fun?”

  “Oh, yeah. We’re heading to Paris tomorrow.”

  “Any idea when you might be back?”

  There was a pause. “Not sure yet. I was thinking I might go to England after this—in a month or so, maybe, depending on how things go. Do you want to meet up there? You can introduce me to Aubrey and show me around the ancestral home.”

  Stone smiled. “Yes, of course. I’d like that, and I’m sure Aubrey will be pleased to finally meet you. I haven’t got much going on this summer at the University, so just let me know when you’re planning to go, and I’ll make it work. I’m glad you’re doing well.”

  “Doing great. Listen—I’ve got to go, the guys are about ready to leave, but it’s good to talk. Anything interesting happening with you?”

  Stone lifted his gaze to the door where Kolinsky had exited only moments before. He thought about everything the black mage had told him: about the rifts, about the harm their existence might cause and the greater potential harm he might have already done with his well-intentioned actions. He wondered who Kolinsky really was, and what his connection was with Madame Huan and the others who’d been trying to stop him from his crusade. He thought about his family, and what Ian would think when he found out what kind of mages he was descended from. He thought about what—if anything—he would do about the effects of the rifts, even if he could no longer affect them directly.

  “No…not really,” he said at last, and was surprised at how casual he sounded. “Same old thing, I suppose. And I could definitely enjoy a few peaceful days back home.”

  Alastair Stone returns in