by R. L. King
“Sounds good.”
“Brilliant. I’ll let you get back to your friends. I’ll see you at the portal at, say, ten tomorrow?”
“See you there.”
2
A small part of Stone wondered if Ian might be late, or even not show up at all. But no, his son popped out of the public portal in London, which was located in a back room of Tolliver’s Magic Shop, a little before ten.
Stone looked him over. Not much had changed in the few months since they’d first met: he still wore the same kind of casually stylish clothes, his windblown dark hair was still tipped with white-blond and artfully spiked, and his slim physique still showed he managed to find time to hit the gym regularly. He hadn’t added any new piercings beyond the ones in his ears and his left eyebrow, but he now sported several intricate tattoos on his forearms courtesy of Scuro. Stone hadn’t asked how he got power—it wasn’t any of his business—but Ian had assured him he had it under control and hadn’t injured anyone.
Ian smiled when he spotted Stone. “Hey, Dad. How are you? It’s good to see you.”
Stone shifted to magical sight, taking in his son’s blazing, silver-and-purple aura, and noticed another glow of magic near his chest. When he switched back, he identified the source immediately: a pendant on a silver chain around the boy’s neck. “I’m doing well.” He pointed. “Is that a new one?”
Ian glanced down. “Oh—yeah. My friend Mihas gave it to me, in Romania. He taught me a few things. Some of them were even related to magic,” he added with a sly grin. “Says it means ‘good fortune.’”
Stone recognized the rune, an ancient magical symbol. Whoever Ian was learning ‘a few things’ from no doubt knew his stuff. “It does indeed. You’ll have to tell me about him some time. I’d like very much to hear about your travels in more detail.”
“Sure, yeah, I’d like that too.”
Stone noticed he didn’t say anything about when he might like to do it, but he didn’t push it. This wasn’t the time for that. “Let’s go—we don’t have a lot of time today. The wedding starts at six tonight, so I’ve got to leave a couple of hours early if I’m to get to Canterbury on time, since there’s no portal there. I’ll show you the house today, and if you’ll stay tomorrow as well, we can see the London place and Caventhorne. Give me a moment to calibrate this portal, and we’ll go.”
Ian paced the room, examining the walls covered with posters from old-time magic shows. “What’s Caventhorne? Is that another one of your properties?”
Stone finished the calibrations before replying. “No. It belonged to my old master, William Desmond. Enormous old place, much larger than our ancestral home. When Desmond died, he left me in charge of arranging its conversion to a sort of magical library and resource center. Some friends of mine have been working on it for quite some time, and it’s almost ready to open.” He indicated the portal. “After you.”
The journey from London to Surrey took nearly no time; only a few seconds passed in the foggy Overworld tunnel before they emerged into a small, stone room with a wooden table, a bookshelf, and a single door. “Is this in your house?” Ian asked.
“Not…exactly.” He opened the door, led the way down a short hall, and pulled down a wooden staircase ladder. “Let me go first here—this is the tricky part I was telling you about.”
Stone ascended the ladder, moved aside the fake top to the sarcophagus in the mausoleum, and leaped out. “Come on up,” he called down to the curious Ian.
Ian scrambled up and looked around in wonder. “Wait…is this some kind of mausoleum?”
“Exactly.” He used a light spell to illuminate the small space, shining it around so Ian could see the sealed alcoves set into the walls. “This is the Stone family crypt. Don’t say it—I know it’s a bit creepy to have a portal in a mausoleum, but it wasn’t my idea. One of our ancestors must have had an odd sense of humor.”
“It’s kind of cool, actually.” Ian moved around the sarcophagus as Stone returned the top to its spot, and examined the plaques below each sealed niche. “So these are my ancestors.”
“Yes.” Stone kept his tone even; this wasn’t the time to give his son the whole sordid family history. He’d have to do it at some point, but they only had a few hours together today.
He stopped in front of one crypt. “Orion Stone. He only died around twenty years ago. Was he your father? My grandfather?”
“Yes.” Stone walked toward the door, hoping Ian would do the same.
He remained next to the plaque. “He died young. What happened to him?”
“It was an…accident.” Not the whole truth, but once again he didn’t want to bring up the details until he had time to frame them properly. He’d already decided he would tell Ian the entire story, but like his son’s travel accounts, it would happen at some unspecified later date when they had more time together. It wasn’t a tale that should be rushed.
Ian pushed his hair off his forehead and rose from his crouch. “You must have been around my age when he died. That had to be rough.”
“Bit of an understatement, yes.” Stone opened the door and waved him out.
This time he followed, but he still looked contemplative. “Wait…before you said you were going through a rough patch when you met my mom. That was around the same time, wasn’t it?”
Stone was surprised he’d remembered that, given everything he’d had to deal with during the early days of their acquaintance. “It was. Your mum helped me work through some of it during the short time we were together. I’ll always be grateful to her for that.”
Ian shot him an odd glance, almost as if trying to determine if he was telling the truth, then stepped outside the mausoleum and looked around the overgrown, windswept cemetery surrounding it. “So our family has its own graveyard. That’s…different.”
“We’ve got a long history.” Stone pointed off to where the dark bulk of the mansion rose in the distance. “Come on—it’s a bit of a walk to the house. You’re welcome to come back here and look around whenever you like, but let’s not keep Aubrey waiting.”
As they trudged through the field, Ian took it all in. “So who’s getting married tonight?”
“A dear old friend—William Desmond’s daughter Imogen. I wish I could bring you along, but…” he paused. “I—er—haven’t actually told her about you yet, and it might be a bit awkward if I turned up with you as my plus-one without any explanation. I’d originally planned to go with Verity, but she had something come up at the last minute.”
Ian flashed his easy, sly smile. “Haven’t told her about me yet? Keeping me a secret for some reason?”
“No, it’s not that. I honestly haven’t seen much of her since you turned up. But as I said, she’s a dear friend—we almost married, many years ago—so it’s not something I want to spring on her without proper…preparation.”
“Got it. No problem—I don’t really want to go to a fancy wedding with a lot of people I don’t know anyway. Maybe I’ll take the portal back up to London tonight and check out some clubs.”
Stone didn’t let his exasperation reach his face. He knew his son had been through a lot of unpleasantness in his life, and he didn’t begrudge him some time to cut loose and explore a life of hedonism—for a while, at least. But at some point, he hoped the boy would settle down, take his magic studies seriously, and either find a job or choose a school instead of constantly globe-hopping in search of new sensual experiences. He’d certainly gotten up to his share of the same thing when he’d been Ian’s age, but he’d also already finished his apprenticeship and his first year of university by that point. This was a talk he and Ian would have to have at some point as well. There seemed to be a lot of those turning up.
“I rather thought you might stay in tonight and spend some time with Aubrey,” was all he said.
Ian’s brow furrowed in a slight frown. “I know you want me to meet him, and I want to. But you want me to spend the evening with him, without you arou
nd? I’m not sure we’d have a lot in common, would we?”
They were approaching the house now. Surprisingly, Aubrey hadn’t emerged from the house to greet them. Stone suspected the caretaker’s sixth sense about his arrival was operating as well as it always did, which meant he was probably giving them space to show up when they were ready.
“You might be surprised. I’m not sure I explained Aubrey adequately. He’s not just the caretaker of this place. He’s my oldest and probably closest friend, and since my father traveled often when I was young, he served as perhaps more of a father figure to me than the real thing.” He chuckled. “If you want to find out any embarrassing dirt about my childhood and early teenage years, he’s the one to ask.”
Ian’s grin mirrored his. “Now that has possibilities.”
As they approached the house, he slowed his long stride and tilted his head back to examine it. “Wow. This place is pretty impressive. Spooky as hell, but impressive. Even with the money you gave me, I’m still getting my head around what a big deal our family seems to be.”
“There isn’t much left of the family these days, actually. It’s mostly me, you, and…a few others on my mother’s side, up north.” Yes, let’s not tell him about that barking mad side of the family yet…or perhaps ever.
“So you aren’t going to introduce me to a whole pack of aunts, uncles, and cousins?”
“Does that disappoint you?”
“Not sure,” he admitted. “I suppose it would be weird to suddenly discover I’m part of a huge family, even if they weren’t all mages.” He indicated the house and started moving toward it again. “So it’s just you knocking around this big old place? Are there a bunch of servants? I mean, this place does sort of look like Downton Abbey meets Castle Dracula.”
Stone laughed. “I’ve never heard it described in quite that way before. But no, no bunch of servants. Aubrey looks after the place, but since I’m here so rarely and I don’t do any formal entertaining, it doesn’t need that much looking after beyond basic maintenance.” He pointed toward the east wing as they mounted the stairs to the front door. “We’re having some work done—renovations and whatnot—so you might see a few workmen around. I don’t think they’re here on the weekend, though.” He opened the door and waved Ian inside, then led him into the massive great room. “Aubrey? Are you here?”
The old man appeared in the doorway on the other side. “Hello, sir. I didn’t know when you’d get in.” He stopped when he saw Ian standing behind Stone.
“Yes. Well…” he strode forward, motioning for Ian to follow. “Aubrey, this is Ian Woodward Stone. Ian, Aubrey Townes, who’s the reason this place hasn’t fallen down around my ears many years ago.”
They approached each other slowly, like a pair of wary animals taking each other’s measure. “Hello, Aubrey,” Ian said, offering his hand. “Dad’s told me a lot about you. Glad to finally meet you.”
For a moment, Aubrey was speechless. Stone didn’t blame him: he’d told the caretaker about Ian’s existence quite some time ago, but being told your employer had a long-lost, nineteen-year-old son wasn’t anything like the same thing as being presented with him in the flesh. Finally he swallowed, smiled, wiped his hand on the cloth again, and accepted Ian’s handshake. “It’s…such a pleasure, sir. I’ve likewise heard quite a lot about you, and I’ve been looking forward to finally meeting you.”
“You don’t need to call me ‘sir,’ you know.”
“Good luck getting him to stop that,” Stone muttered. “I’ve been trying for more than twenty years now.”
“Are you hungry?” Aubrey asked both of them. “I’ve got some light refreshments ready, or I can put together an early lunch if you like.”
Stone glanced at Ian. “No, I think we’re good, Aubrey. We haven’t got a lot of time today, since I’ll need time to get ready and leave for the wedding this afternoon. I thought I’d show Ian around the place and the grounds a bit, and then we can sit down for lunch in a couple of hours and have a long chat, the three of us.”
“Excellent, sir. I’ll have something ready by noon, if that’s acceptable. And I’ve prepared the suite near yours for Ian.”
“Oh, I don’t need a suite,” Ian said. “I’ll probably only be staying until tomorrow, right, Dad?”
“That’s up to you. I’ve not got much going on at the University this summer, so if you’d like to stay longer that’s fine. But come on—let’s get you settled, and I’ll give you the whirlwind tour.”
The “whirlwind tour” took most of the two hours before lunch was ready. Stone showed Ian the inside of the house, beginning with the main living area and ending with the rooms in the west wing. “We won’t go into the east wing,” he said as they returned to the great room. “That’s where they’re doing the renovations, so it’s probably not much to look at. What do you think so far?”
Ian had followed him around, examining the elegant, old-fashioned furnishings, artwork, and architecture in silence. “It’s…a lot to take in,” he said. “Definitely not the sort of thing I’m used to. It’s beautiful. A little grim, though.”
“It is that,” Stone agreed. “It needs a lot of work, so I’m glad we’re finally able to get started on that. But I suppose it suits me—I grew up here, so I’m used to it, warts and all. Wait until you see Caventhorne—it makes this place look quite shabby by comparison. That will probably have to be another time, though, unless you can stay longer. Anyway, come on—I want to show you the good stuff.”
“Good stuff?”
“Everything I’ve shown you so far has been fairly mundane, hasn’t it?”
“Ah, right. The magic. Should have guessed.”
Stone led him downstairs. As they passed through the illusionary tapestry leading to the hidden staircase, he said casually, “Have you given any thought to what we’ve discussed, about your future plans?”
“You mean studying magic?”
“Well, that too, if you want to. But have you thought about whether you want to pursue going to university?”
Ian shrugged. “Not really—not yet. I’ve got plenty of time for that. And I have been learning magic. Some of my friends have been teaching me some techniques.”
Stone picked up his stride so Ian couldn’t see his face. “Ian—”
“What is it?”
He sighed. “Look—I know we haven’t known each other very long, and I’ve no intention of going all parental with you. I doubt it would do any good even if I did, at this point. But if you’ll listen to a bit of advice from someone with more experience…”
“Sure. Of course.”
“It’s not a good idea to pick up magic piecemeal, especially not from people who haven’t been studying much longer than you have.” He turned back around, keeping his aura carefully under control. “You’ve got such immense potential power, Ian. If it’s trained properly, you could be a stronger mage than I am—and without bragging, that’s saying something. It makes me angry every time I think about Trin buggering you up when you first discovered your power.”
“Buggering me up? You mean making me into a black mage?” Ian’s gaze was challenging. “You do all right, don’t you?”
Stone let his breath out, considering his words. He couldn’t afford to lose his cool with the boy—that would be the fastest way to drive him away. “No,” he said. “Not making you into a black mage. That isn’t what I meant. But she left out so much of your core training—the stuff most beginning mages get at the start of their apprenticeship—to focus only on the bits she wanted you to have to serve her ends. It means if you begin a proper apprenticeship, you’ll have to unlearn some bad habits. It shouldn’t delay your progress for long because you’ve got so much to work with, but…” He spread his hands. “If you’re going to do it, you’ve got to think about getting started.”
“I will get started. But…”
“But?”
Ian shrugged. “Things are changing, Dad. How much contact do you have wi
th mages my age these days?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Aside from Verity, I mean. I’ve met quite a few of them while I’ve been traveling around. Nowadays, a lot of them don’t do formal apprenticeships. They learn as they go, figuring out what they want to know and finding teachers—or else getting together and teaching each other. Hell, in parts of Africa and Asia they don’t even use the one-teacher, one-student model these days. It’s more of a community thing, with a group of mages learning from a group of teachers, according to what they consider most important.”
He passed through a hidden doorway behind Stone and descended the stairs downward. “I’m still learning a lot, since I didn’t grow up with the idea that I’d train in magic when I turned eighteen. But I’m finding out that your way of doing it is very Western-European- and American-centric. It’s a great way to learn, but it’s not the only way. And…” he began.
“And what?” Stone turned back around, stopping in front of the door that led to his magical library and workroom.
“Well, don’t take this wrong, because I promise I don’t mean it that way—but in a way, what you’re trying to get me to do is as restrictive as what Trin taught me.”
Stone sighed. He had no idea what he expected when he’d met Ian—he supposed in the back of his mind, he assumed the boy would be a lot like Verity: highly intelligent, eager to learn, and full of questions, but still accepting the paradigm of modern Western magical teaching. Apparently, that wasn’t to be the case.
This was exactly why parents didn’t teach their own children. He hadn’t internalized it before, but over the past few months he’d truly come around to the wisdom of it. After all, was this really any different than when Verity had decided she wanted to train with Edna Soren, to learn a more nature-based form of magic to complement his own more classical, formula-based approach? He’d not only approved of that, but helped Verity arrange alternative study methods.
“Look,” he said at last. “This probably isn’t something we should discuss now. I’m sure you have valid points—it’s entirely possible that I’m out of touch with certain areas of modern magical teaching. I’ve got an open mind. All I want to do is make sure you have the chance to take your potential as far as you want to take it, and I hope you’ll listen to me when I tell you that blundering about in the dark picking up random bits and bobs from a load of students who know as little as you do isn’t the best way to do that.”
