Core of Stone

by King, R. L.

  “No,” Stone said soberly. “When a dark mage kills a victim rather than simply draining some energy, the victim is turned to ash. All that’s left is their clothes and personal effects. He probably just picked those up and took them along with him. Who’s going to suspect a pile of ashes used to be a human being?”

  “And he’s doin’ it down here ’cause nobody gives a fuck about a bunch of homeless bums and gangbangers,” Malcolm said, his fists clenching. “Even the cops who ain’t Evil won’t come down here to save any of us.”

  Stone nodded, rage growing within him. Mages didn’t have any sort of formal code or laws that governed them—there was no Mage Council that would punish wrongdoing or prevent black mages from killing victims. Even most black mages who had no compunctions against killing if necessary didn’t do it indiscriminately. For one thing, attracting enough attention from mundane law enforcement could be trouble, even for the magically talented. For another, it wasn’t necessary. Almost every type of magic a black mage might want to perform could be done easily with the energy drained from one or more “batteries,” willing or unwilling, without causing their deaths. The voice he’d heard had been young—which meant he was most likely looking at simple arrogance and a complete disregard for human life. A dangerous combination.

  “So how do we stop him?” Malcolm asked. “How the hell’re we s’posed to stop something like that, if this illusion’s so good ain’t none of us can get past it, and he’s a mage b’sides?”

  “I’m going to help you.” Stone said.

  “But—” Malcolm began.

  “But nothing,” Stone said, his fists clenching. “I couldn’t keep Luke safe from this bastard, but I’m damned sure I’m not letting him kill any of the rest of you.”

  “How you gonna do that?” Zenna demanded.

  “I don’t know yet,” Stone said. “I need to think about it. Don’t let anyone else go wandering around in small groups for a while. I promise you—I will find a solution.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  When Stone needed to think, he ideally also needed to move. That was impractical in the Underground, and especially in the Forgotten’s area, which was suddenly crawling with people, unless he wanted to wander the passageways. Instead, he went back to the alcove where he’d awakened, asking Malcolm and the others not to disturb him for a while.

  The Forgotten didn’t follow him.

  Verity did.

  “Why didn’t you tell us?” she asked him when they reached the alcove. Her voice sounded hurt and angry and accusing.

  He didn’t look at her. “So they told you then, did they?”

  “Yeah. Which was a hell of a lot more than you did.”

  “I didn’t think you needed to know yet.”

  She grabbed his shoulder and tried to spin him around. When he held fast, she came around in front of him, glaring. “I’m your apprentice. If anybody needed to know, it’s me.”

  He turned away again. “Verity, we can talk about this later. I need to think.”

  “We can talk about this now,” she said. She moved in front of him. “And stop turning away. The least you can do is face me.”

  His gaze came up. “Fine.”

  She studied his face for several seconds. “I don’t get it, Dr. Stone. How long have you known about this?”

  Clearly she wasn’t going to go away and leave him to his thoughts until they had this out. He sighed. “When I woke up in hospital in Reno.”

  Her eyes widened. “So you already knew when you told us to go back home without you?”

  He nodded. “What was the point in your staying?”

  She shook her head. “Damn, Doc, for a guy who’s supposed to be as smart as you are, you can be a real idiot sometimes.”

  “So I’ve been told.”

  “We are your friends, right? Jason and me?”

  “What kind of question is that? Of course you are.”

  “But yet you…” She stopped, frustration twisting her features. “Something this big happens to you, and you don’t even bother to tell us. I can’t believe that!”

  “Then you don’t know me as well as I thought you did,” he said evenly.

  “What did you think we’d do if we found out? What were you afraid of?”

  “I wasn’t afraid,” he said, too quickly. “I’m just not the sort of person who shares his problems. Especially when it’s pointless. There’s nothing either of you could have done.”

  “Did you tell anybody?”

  “I went to see Madame Huan. I thought perhaps she might be able to help.”

  “But she couldn’t?”

  He shook his head, and looked away again. He couldn’t meet her dark, searching eyes. “No. She examined me and told me she found no sign of magic.”

  “So why’d you come to Vegas?” Before he could answer, she gripped his arm. “You came to find Harrison, didn’t you? Using his magic was what did this to you.”

  “Yes.”

  She paused. “I take it you didn’t find him.”

  “No. I found Nakamura, who hasn’t seen him since the portal incident. He thinks he might not even be on Earth anymore.”

  She stared at him. “That’s…uh…weird. But okay, fine. So you didn’t find him. Why didn’t you come back home after that? Or go to England? Malcolm said they found you wandering around in some crappy neighborhood near downtown, drunk out of your mind. He said the Evil were hassling you. Why would you do that?”

  “Verity—” He turned away from her again.

  “No. You’re not doing this. Look at me, Dr. Stone.”

  When did teenage Verity become such a confident young woman? “You should go,” he said dully. “I need to think. I need to figure out a way to deal with this situation before this bastard kills someone else.”

  “And you will,” she said with certainty. “I know you will. I know we will. But we’re gonna finish this first. So if you want time to think, start talking. Why did the Forgotten find you there like that?”

  He didn’t answer.

  She didn’t speak for several seconds. When she did, her voice was soft and shaky. “Oh, my God.”

  “What?” Curious now, he did turn back to face her.

  She was staring at him with big, haunted eyes. She wasn’t wearing her usual goth makeup, but she’d still gone pale. “You wanted them to catch you.”

  “What?” he asked again.

  “The Evil. You were trying to kill yourself.”

  His shoulders slumped. “I didn’t want them to catch me,” he said. “Not the Evil.”

  “Somebody else, then?” She continued staring. “You did. You wanted to kill yourself. Or you wanted somebody else to kill you.”

  He might have been able to lie to someone else about it, but not Verity. He lowered his head and stared at the ground.

  She slapped him, hard, across the cheek.

  He jerked his head up, shocked. His hand went to his face. “What—?” he started.

  Her eyes didn’t look haunted now. They flashed with fury. “You…fucking…idiot,” she said, her voice low, shaking with rage.

  “Verity—”

  “No. Shut up. Just—shut up.” She paced in a small circle in front of him, her fists clenched. Then she whirled on him again. “I can’t believe you wanted to kill yourself because you’ve lost your magic.”

  “Then you don’t know me,” he said, not looking at her.

  “I think I know you better than you want me to,” she said.

  “Verity—apprentice—I don’t want to discuss it. Please go. Leave me in peace so I can think.”

  “Not happening,” she said. “And am I even your apprentice anymore?”

  “Of course you are. Until I find you—”

  “Until you find me a new teacher. Yeah, I get it. But maybe I d
on’t want a new teacher.” She whirled away again with a loud sigh. “I can’t believe it. Did you try before?”

  “Try—”

  “To kill yourself. Did you try back at home?”

  “I—thought about it.”

  “What stopped you?”

  He shrugged. “Had things to do. Loose ends to tie up.”

  “Like finding me a new teacher.”

  “That was one of them, yes.”

  “So after you tie up these ‘loose ends,’ you’re gonna do it?”

  He swallowed. This conversation was going in directions he didn’t want it to go. “Not for six months, at least,” he said reluctantly.

  Her eyes narrowed. “Why six months?”

  “I gave my word. To Madame Huan.”

  She stared at him. “You gave your word. Not to kill yourself.” She shook her head. “You know how fucked up that is, right?”

  He arched a questioning eyebrow.

  “It doesn’t work like that, Doc. Take it from one who knows.”

  That surprised him. “You’ve—”

  “—tried to kill myself? Yeah. Couple times—or at least came damn close to trying. First one was when I was fourteen. I’d saved up the pills and everything. I was tired of dealing with my fucked-up brain, and of nobody being able to figure out what the hell was wrong with me.”

  “I didn’t know,” he said softly.

  “I didn’t tell anybody,” she said. “Not even Jason. Second time was a year later—I had a razor blade, and I was gonna slash my wrists in the bathtub. Vertical, not horizontal. That’s the best way to bleed out fast. Did you know that? I figured if I did it in the water, there wouldn’t be much for anybody to have to clean up.”

  All he could do was stare at her. He knew she’d spent most of her teen years in various halfway houses, her mind affected by her sensitivity to the Evil’s open portals, but when he and Jason had found her with another Forgotten group, she’d seemed quite sane.

  “And you know what?” she went on. “After that first time, I promised myself I wouldn’t do it again. And all that goes right out the window when your brain’s telling you you’re broken and fucked up and the world’d be better off without you.” Her voice shook, and she brushed angry tears away.

  “Verity—I—” He didn’t know what to say. His mind spun with darting fragments of thought, but none of them seemed to be able to find its way to his mouth.

  She took his arm again, and when she spoke, it was softer than before. “You think I don’t get you, Doc, but I do. I don’t think Jason does. But I do.”

  “Oh?” he asked, meeting her eyes, unable to resist the challenge. “Suppose you tell me what you ‘get’ about me, then.”

  “I get that you always have to be in control of yourself. That you don’t like getting too close to people. You think I don’t see it, all those snarky jokes you make, the way you deflect things? And I get what the worst thing in the world for you is.”

  “That’s fairly obvious, isn’t it?” he asked dryly. “Otherwise I wouldn’t have been contemplating suicide over it.”

  She shook her head, and her smile was gentle. “It’s not your magic. You might think it is, but that’s just a side effect.”

  “A side effect of what?”

  “That you hate being useless. You hate having to ask anybody for help.”

  Stone closed his eyes as her words sunk deep. His mind went back to the conversation he’d had in the tunnels, shortly before the “monster” had shown up. “I asked Luke what he’d do if he lost his strength,” he said. “If he couldn’t fight anymore, or were somehow paralyzed.”

  Verity didn’t comment on the seeming change in subject. “What did he say?”

  He sank down to the pallet, resting his elbows on his knees and burying his hands in his hair. “He told me he’d hate it…but if it happened, the others would take care of him.”

  He lowered his head, and when he spoke again, it was not to Verity, not completely. “Damn it,” he murmured. “I know it’s not right. It’s arrogant. It’s bloody selfish. Why should I even care about losing something ninety-nine percent of the world never even had? Why should I give a damn that I can’t use magic anymore, when these poor sods don’t even know where their next meal is coming from?”

  She sat down next to him and put a hand on his shoulder. “Because it’s what you are,” she said. “I get it. And it does suck. How could it not suck? But Doc…magic isn’t all you are. You get that, right? Jason and I aren’t gonna stop caring about you because you can’t do magic anymore. Nobody is.”

  He didn’t answer, didn’t move.

  She took his other shoulder and gently pulled him around until he faced her. “You saved my life, Doc. You saved Jason’s life. You could have been killed plenty of times helping us. You could have walked away any time you wanted to, but you didn’t. We’re both still here because of you. Do you think that doesn’t mean something to me?”

  “I couldn’t have done any of that without magic,” he whispered. His shoulders shook under her hands. “If I’d found you now, you both would have died.”

  She pulled him into a hug. He stiffened for a moment, but then let himself relax into her, resting his head on her narrow shoulder. He’d never been more aware of how much strength hid in her small, thin frame.

  She rubbed his back. “It’ll be okay, Doc. We’ll get through this. It’ll be hard at first—losing anything’s hard. But we’re gonna help you. Me and Jason and Madame Huan…I promise, we will.”

  He tightened his arms around her. “I know you will,” he said. With a deep breath, he pulled back and faced her. “I know.” He gave her a wan half-smile. “No more hugs just now, though. It’s bad enough I don’t have my magic—I probably smell like a landfill, and you’re just being polite.”

  “Everything down here kinda smells like a landfill,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “You blend in.” She leaned back, stretching out her legs. “So what are we gonna do? How do we find this guy and deal with him?”

  “We don’t,” Stone said. “Too dangerous. You’re not far enough along in your mental training yet, so I can’t be sure you’ll see through the illusions. And none of the rest of the Forgotten have a chance.”

  “So…what, then?”

  “Not sure yet. I’ve got some ideas, but they’re still baking.” He got up, and held out his hand to her. “Come on. We need to go back topside for a while.”

  “Why?” She gripped his hand and pulled herself up.

  “Because I’m not taking another step until I’ve had a good long shower, a shave, and a change of clothes. And I owe someone named Goat a pair of boots.”

  Chapter Twenty

  It was a good thing a lot of Las Vegas never closed, because when Stone and Verity emerged from beneath the culvert a group of Forgotten had led them to, it was already after nine o’clock.

  “You sure you’re comin’ back?” Malcolm asked. He’d volunteered to come along and show them the way out; the rest of the group they’d traveled with hung back under cover of the concrete overhang.

  “Of course we’re coming back,” Stone said. “Why would you think we wouldn’t?”

  “Habit,” Malcolm said, shrugging. “You get used to people not doin’ what they say.”

  “Don’t worry,” Verity said. “We’ll be back.”

  “Two hours,” Stone said. “Right here.”

  As they climbed up out of the culvert after the Forgotten faded back into their tunnel, something occurred to Stone. “How did you find me in there? A normal tracking spell would be difficult to pinpoint in all those twisting passages.”

  “I used that one you told me about a couple months ago,” she said. “The one where you use extra power to keep part of the tether object active. Wasn’t hard since it was you and I normally don’t even need one to f
ind you. I just followed it, and everybody else followed me.”

  “Well done,” he said, impressed. He’d only mentioned that type of spell to her once, and given her a book for reference, but they’d never practiced it. Then he sighed. “I’m sorry I won’t be able to keep teaching you—you’re doing phenomenally well, when you pay attention.”

  She didn’t answer for a while. They climbed over the top and glanced up and down the street, looking for a cab. “Doc…” she said at last, “are you sure it’s not coming back?”

  “No,” he said. “But best I get used to thinking it isn’t.”

  A car sporting the telltale billboard topper of a taxi appeared around the corner, and Stone waved it down. “Good thing I still have my wallet,” he said sourly, taking a sniff of his black overcoat. “I’ll have to put this man’s children through university to get him to let us in his car.”

  The cabbie wrinkled his nose, but otherwise didn’t comment on his passengers’ personal hygiene issues. He drove in silence to the Obsidian, and Stone tipped him more than the fare when they arrived. “Thanks,” he said. “And sorry. Long night.”

  When the cab drove off, he asked Verity, “Where are you staying?”

  “Nowhere yet,” she said. “I left my bag with the Forgotten. Figured I’d better get there fast as I could.”

  “Well, come on up with me for now,” he said. “If we end up staying longer, we’ll get you a room. Just amuse yourself while I rejoin the human race.”

  Stone was never gladder to see a generic upscale hotel room than he was when he pushed open the door to Room 742 and found things just as he’d left them what seemed like a lifetime ago. He’d gotten so used to the smell in the Underground that the room almost seemed antiseptic to him.

  He slid out of his coat and tossed it over a chair. “Do me a favor, will you? Send that out to be cleaned—or burned, if they can’t manage it. Charge it to the room.” He collected a change of clothes and disappeared into the bathroom.

  Tempted as he was to spend the next hour or so luxuriating under the pounding spray of a steaming-hot shower, he didn’t want to keep Verity waiting too long. He settled for a long scrub, then washed his hair twice, shaved, and gratefully pulled on a clean black T-shirt and a fresh pair of jeans. He emerged feeling about three hundred percent better than he had when he’d gone in. Even the aches in his back had calmed down.