by King, R. L.
Surprisingly, Jason’s unemployment problem solved itself in an unexpected way. All three of them attended David’s funeral, a somber but elegant occasion that included many of the restaurant’s regular customers, as well as a small contingent of west coast mages who were regular users of the portal. After it was over, Marta surprised Jason by taking him aside. She still looked devastated, but already showed signs that she was moving forward with what she knew she had to do.
“I’ve been thinking,” she said. “I told Alastair I wasn’t sure I wanted to reopen the restaurant, but it wouldn’t be fair to my employees to put them out of their jobs with the economy the way it is now. Most of them have been with us for years, and they’re like family. Besides, I can’t exactly sell the place with what’s in the basement, can I? It won’t be easy, but I’ll manage. Alastair was telling me that you’re good with your hands and pick new things up quickly, and that you need a job. With David gone—I could use another person I can trust to help me.”
He stared at her, not sure he’d heard her right. “I—I appreciate it, Marta. But—I’ve never waited tables before, and believe me, you don’t want me to cook. If you want a dishwasher or somebody to clean up, though—”
She smiled faintly. “I know about your circumstances, Jason. I know you might have to take unexpected time off. I’m fine with that. I understand. And as for the job—I thought I might start you out as a waiter during the lunch shift and general handyman when needed, and then if things work out you can work up to helping me manage the place. I trust Alastair’s judgment, and he said you learn fast.”
He could still only stare at her for several seconds. “I—Thank you,” he finally got out, relief evident on his face. “I have been trying to figure out something I can do where they won’t have a problem with me bugging out occasionally.” The job boards at Stanford had been stubbornly unhelpful, full of either positions requiring the kind of education he didn’t have, or those where they wouldn’t look kindly on an employee whose availability was as variable as his was. “Um—you’ll have to teach me about Indian food, though. That first time I came in with Al? That was the first time I’d ever had it.” He couldn’t help chuckling. “And then I lost it all over Al’s floor in England after we went through the portal.”
A brief smile crossed her downcast face. “I’ve heard that can happen sometimes,” she said. “Give me a call tomorrow, and we’ll discuss details, all right?”
“I’ll do that. Thank you,” he said again, patting her arm. A big load off his mind, he headed back over to where Stone and Verity chatted with the group of mages.
“Did you tell them what was going on?” he asked on the way back to the car, after he’d given Stone and Verity the details about his new job.
“Sort of,” Stone said. “Same as I did for the lot back East—told them to be on guard for possible danger, mental influence, that sort of thing. Asked them to let me know if they spotted anything unusual.”
“Were they suspicious?”
“Not really. Bit frightened, but I don’t think they suspected I knew more than I was telling. As long as they know they might be in danger, they should be able to keep themselves safe, though.” He sighed, his expression bitter and frustrated. “Should have done it before. I’ll need to make some more calls, I think. If this is happening all over, best to get the word out as soon as possible.”
Jason nodded. They’d reached the car; he was about to get in when the roar of a motorcycle startled him. Glancing quickly in that direction, he spotted the bike disappearing into traffic. The rider wore a leather jacket with the black-and-red symbol of the DMW on the back. He gripped Stone’s arm and pointed it out.
“I’ll make those calls today,” Stone said grimly.
Verity did her best to keep quiet about her upcoming birthday, but it would have been obvious to a blind man that she was excited about it. Stone said nothing about it beyond a quick “Happy birthday” that morning when she showed up for her training, but Jason had told her the night before that the mage had asked him to come over to the townhouse when his lunch shift at the restaurant was over.
“So, apprentice,” Stone said when Jason arrived and the three of them met up in the kitchen, “It seems you’re an adult now. Feel any different?”
She grinned. “You mean aside from the fact that I don’t have to ask Dad—I mean Jason—for permission when I want to go somewhere...not really.”
“Well, just see to it that your impending wild adult life doesn’t interfere with your studies,” he told her.
“Are you kidding? You think I’m gonna let parties get in the way of learning how to blow things up?”
He rolled his eyes; it was a standing joke. “I told you, the ‘blowing things up’ lessons don’t start until next year.”
“We’ll see,” she said, eyes twinkling. “I’ve been reading ahead in the textbook, Teach.”
“She always was a teacher’s pet when she was little,” Jason said, grinning.
“Anyway,” Stone said with a sigh, before he lost complete control of the conversation, “Unless you’ve got plans for the evening, I thought we might go up to San Francisco. I’ve got reservations at Castagnola’s.”
“And,” Jason said, “after that, I’ve got a couple of tickets to see that band you like—the one with the gloomy chick in too much makeup—at the Warfield.”
Her eyes widened. “You got tickets to see Shadowsbane? I thought that show was sold out!”
“Hey, Al isn’t the only one around here who can pull strings.”
She glanced at the mage. “A couple of tickets? You aren’t going, Dr. Stone?”
Stone shook his head. “We can take BART up. We can either drive up separately or go together, and I’ll catch a cab home from the station in Millbrae. Not exactly my crowd. Besides, you need to spend more time with people your own age. You don’t need an old bloke like me cramping your style.”
Verity grinned. Stone was about as far from an “old bloke” as anybody his age she’d ever met, but still, she was clearly pleased with the idea of this new adventure. “Thanks, guys,” she said. “Beats a cake and party hats.”
“Who says there won’t be party hats?” Jason asked.
“Damn,” Stone muttered. “Jason, remind me to call and cancel the pony rides.”
Dinner was excellent—clearly Stone had greased a few palms, because they had one of the best tables available, with a beautiful view of the marina. Jason was glad the mage hadn’t picked an overly fancy place with snobbish waiters and a dress code, because he and Verity were both dressed for the club later that night. Verity had gone all out with leather jacket, miniskirt, ripped fishnets, combat boots and spiked hair; Jason, as usual, kept things much more understated. He didn’t like standing out in crowds. He’d thought about bringing along his pistol, which he’d finally had a chance to retrieve during the trip to Ventura, but reluctantly decided against it. Still, he didn’t think he was the only one among the three of them who had glanced around looking for Forgotten symbols and DMW gangers near the restaurant, and who was relieved when he didn’t see any of either.
They finished up the last course around ten, Jason and Verity splitting an enormous, decadent slice of chocolate cake while Stone opted for an after-dinner liqueur. “You know where you’re going, right?” Stone asked.
Jason nodded. “Yeah. We’re gonna take a cab over there, and the BART station’s only a couple blocks from the theater.”
“Good, good.” He reached into the pocket of his overcoat, which he’d slung over the chair next to him. “Verity, I have something for you before you go.” He handed her a small, elegantly wrapped package.
She stared at it, then up at him. “You didn’t have to get me anything, Dr. Stone. You’ve already done so much for us—”
Stone waved her off and put it down in front of her. “Just open it.”
/> She looked at Jason, who shrugged, and then she carefully removed the paper from the small box and lifted off the lid. Her eyes widened. “It’s—beautiful.”
Inside the box, the silver bird skull amulet Stone had retrieved from his home in England rested on black velvet. Its red gem eyes glowed with eerie life in the restaurant’s indirect overhead lighting. She pulled it out by its silver chain and held it up—it looked like it would go very well with her current outfit. She clasped it around her neck, where it hung below her leather dog collar choker like it belonged there. “Thank you.”
He smiled. “You’re quite welcome. And as you might suspect, there’s a bit more to it than simple aesthetics.”
Judging by her expression, it was obvious she hadn’t suspected that. “There—is?” Her hand came up to touch it gently.
“It’s attuned to you. I know you don’t know much magic yet, but should you need to use any of it, that will help you do it without as much psychic aftereffect, similar to my ring.” He held up his hand, where his familiar silver ring with the blocky purple stone glimmered. “I still need to have you practice with Jason to see if that amazing ability of his works with you as well, but he won’t always be around, and it’s never a bad idea to be cautious, especially in light of recent events. That confusion spell we went over the other day should serve you well if anyone bothers you.”
She was clearly affected by the gift, but covered it with a grin. “You’re not so bad as a master after all, Teach. Thanks for this—and dinner, too. This is way better than a party hat and pony rides.” She glanced at her watch and looked rueful. “We should probably get going, though, if we’re gonna make it. I think the doors open at eleven.”
“Go, go,” Stone said, making a ‘shoo’ gesture. “I plan to finish my drink and then I’ll be off. Should be home in a couple of hours—but do try not to get into trouble for once.”
Jason grinned. “Don’t worry, Al. I’ll take good care of your apprentice.”
Stone lingered over his drink for another twenty minutes or so, looking out the window over the lights of the marina and letting his thoughts wander. He hadn’t been enthusiastic when Jason had told him about scoring the tickets to the show. Normally he wouldn’t have thought anything of it, but with evidence that the Evil was still operating in the area (even at only a fraction of their former level of organization) he couldn’t help but be concerned that something would go wrong.
While Verity surpassed all of his expectations with the speed at which she was picking up magical concepts and techniques—not that he would tell her that, of course—she was still a novice, and would be for quite some time to come. Being able to cast a decent levitation spell and do a fair-to-middling mental confusion under ideal conditions would not prepare her to stand up to a determined attacker, mage or otherwise. He was glad Jason was with her; his friend might be about as magical as the fork currently resting on his plate, but he was strong and fast and good in a fight. Sometimes a solid right hook was every bit as effective as a lightning bolt to the face.
He paid the check and left the restaurant, pulling on his heavy wool overcoat against the chill of the night. It would be winter soon, and the wind coming off the bay sliced through him uncomfortably. He pulled up his collar and waved down a cab, instructing the driver to take him to the nearest BART station.
He leaned back in the seat and looked out the window, but also kept an eye on the cabdriver. Eleanor Pearsall had been killed by two men she had known well—she had no doubt been caught off guard, with no suspicion that they meant her any harm. Stone didn’t intend to be caught off guard by anyone. He suspected Jason was right: if the Evil were systematically killing mages for whatever reason, he was probably one of their prime targets. In fact, he was surprised that they hadn’t tried anything yet. Or, perhaps Eleanor, David, and the mage from New Mexico had something in common that he didn’t share. He watched the various brightly lit businesses along the Wharf flash by and filed that thought away as the cab pulled in next to the familiar blue and black logo indicating they had arrived at the Embarcadero BART station.
He took the stairs down and walked to the platform, paying close attention to his surroundings. Mindful of the Evil-possessed man who’d pushed a woman in front of a commuter train down in the South Bay a month or so ago, he stood well back from the tracks until the train pulled into the station, came to a stop, and the cars opened their doors with a loud hiss.
There weren’t many cars attached this time of night; most of the work commuters had already gone home, and the late-night clubbing crowd wouldn’t be heading out for at least another hour or two. He deliberately chose the rear car after verifying that it looked reasonably well populated, as it only had a single point of entry from the car in front of it. He moved to the back and took a seat where he could keep an eye on the front door and everyone inside. He was annoyed at himself for what he perceived to be jumping at shadows, but better to be overcautious and get home safely than to let his guard down and regret it too late.
The doors closed and the train started to move. Stone looked around, taking in his surroundings. There were quite a few people in the train—enough that he didn’t feel comfortable using his spell that would cause others’ gazes to slide off him. That would have made things easier, but the chance was too great that someone would jostle him, or worse, sit on him thinking his seat was empty.
The train continued on, stopping at the Montgomery and Powell Street stations to take on and let off small groups of passengers. Stone decided it was probably safe to relax his vigilance a bit while they were still in the City; even the Evil probably wouldn’t be desperate enough to accost him here with this many people around. Stop acting like a frightened schoolgirl, he told himself.
To pass the time, he allowed his attention to wander over the other people in the car with him. There were about twenty in total, and he began to classify them according to potential threat. The pair of sixtyish women were probably safe, as was the woman keeping her preteen son close and watching the crowd with even more focus than Stone was. The late-teen couple across the aisle from him were so wrapped up with each other that they probably didn’t even notice there was anybody else on the train. The small knot of young men in 49ers gear near the front were potentially problematic; they talked loudly among themselves and seemed like they might be drunk, but they also weren’t bothering anyone else. The man seated near the front with two large shopping bags looked like he might be homeless—Stone wondered if he was Forgotten. The remainder of the passengers were singletons ranging from a middle-aged businessman to a couple of twenty-somethings wearing headphones to an old, blind man with a silent and watchful German Shepherd guide dog.
The train continued traveling from station to station. At the Civic Center stop several people got off, including the group of raucous young men, the sixtyish women, the businessman, and the homeless man. Stone was glad to see the young men go, but not glad that three other tough-looking youths got on in their place. Silently he took inventory of the magical items he had with him: at least if it came down to a fight he wouldn’t pass out after the first two spells. He’d been spending his spare time when not working with Verity to construct and power a new set to replace the ones that had been destroyed in the fire at the Evil’s headquarters.
The train moved on, stopping at the 12th Street Mission station and letting off more people. By the time they reached 24th Street they were down to six, though several more got on there. Stone sighed, now wishing he’d braved the hassle of San Francisco traffic and just driven to the restaurant. This constant vigilance was exhausting.
He glanced around the cabin again, this time idly looking for Forgotten symbols among the riot of graffiti on the walls. He spotted a few things that might have qualified, but couldn’t tell for sure; neither the “good place” nor the “bad place” symbol was marked anywhere. He did notice, however, that the camera at the fron
t of the cabin had been pulled out of its housing and dangled from two forlorn-looking wires. From the look of things, it hadn’t happened recently.
Hardly anybody got on at this point. As the train stopped at each of the next stations in turn—Glen Park, Balboa Park, Daly City—some subset of its passengers disembarked at deserted platforms and hurried away. By the time it left the Colma station, Stone’s car contained only himself, the teenage couple (who had not yet come up for air, and might as well have been on Mars for all they seemed to care about their surroundings), and a large and formidable looking woman who’d gotten on two or three stops ago and who cast periodic disapproving glances at the teenagers. She caught Stone’s gaze and shook her head, then returned to reading her book.
Stone allowed himself to relax, just a bit. Three more stops and he’d be home free. Of course, there was still the platform at the Millbrae station, which would almost certainly be deserted, and the walk out through the sketchily lit parking lot to the van, but once he was away from anyone watching he could put up the spell to make himself unnoticeable. As long as no one had broken into the van or lay in wait for him, he should be able to reach it and be out of there before anyone realized he was coming.
Just stop it, you fool. You can’t keep doing this, or you’ll spend your life looking over your shoulder. He hoped Verity and Jason were having a good time at the concert. At least the two of them would be together on the trip home, and Jason was intimidating-looking enough that anyone short of the Evil would think twice about messing with him.
