Steel and Stone: A Novel in the Alastair Stone Chronicles

by R. L. King

  He shifted to magical sight and examined the crowd, almost irrationally happy to be able to perform such a simple act after his long period of forced mundanity. Auras sprang up around the people, surging and flaring with excitement as their owners urged on their favorite fighter. It occurred to him that he hadn’t given any thought to wonder if Calanarians’ auras would look any different than those from his own dimension, but apparently they didn’t. As was usually the case back home, most were a single color—bright blues, reds, oranges, greens, yellows. A couple, both belonging to people whom other traces of magic around them marked as likely mages, had two-tone auras—one green with gold, the other red with blue. He couldn’t currently spot Harrison’s eerie black-and-purple aura, but that didn’t disturb him. He’d probably gone off to meet with Rovenna in private, and in any case, he was probably disguising it.

  Stone moved closer to the ring, still pretending to watch the action inside. He couldn’t see much past the crowd, but that was all right since it wasn’t the crowd he was observing. Without moving his head much to give himself away, he scanned the areas off to either side of the ring, including the other ring.

  By now, most of the spectators there had moved to this one, and the losing construct’s three handlers were levitating their unmoving bright-red charge back toward their tent. In general, the mood seemed excited, anticipatory, with just a hint of wary nervousness around the edges—completely understandable, considering their clandestine operation was illegal and could potentially get them killed if anyone caught them.

  Another cheer went up from the crowd, followed by a loud metallic crash. Stone moved forward a little more, positioning himself behind a pair of shorter spectators so he could get a look at the action.

  One of the combatants, a beefy thing shaped like a black trash can with arms and legs, had knocked over its opponent, which was taller, less bulky, and painted blue with gold highlights. The trash can loomed over its opponent, raising arms made of cords and metal conduits.

  The other one wasn’t done yet, though. As the trash can’s fists came down, the blue-and-gold construct rolled neatly sideways and leaped back to its feet, using a powerful leg sweep to knock the trash can’s stubbier limbs out from under it. The black construct fell over and landed on its back, flailing its arms and legs as it struggled to roll over.

  Stone kept magical sight up as he watched, even more intrigued by what he was seeing. The constructs didn’t have auras—only living things had auras—but they did glow with some kind of aura-like magical energy emanating from inside their central cores. It was different than what Stone had seen when he’d provided power to Errin’s airship engine—that had been raw energy. This stuff felt, for lack of a better word, processed. He wondered if this had something to do with the way the constructs could possess a limited form of autonomy, like Anzo back at the Nexus. His curiosity burned again, and he ached to ask Harrison about all of this. I could stay a bit longer, he reminded himself. A few more days won’t matter.

  But no—he’d been gone long enough. Assuming time here ran at anything like the same rate as it did back home, he’d already been here close to two months. The fall quarter would be starting soon, if it hadn’t already, and he didn’t want to think about what would happen if he failed to show up with no explanation or excuse. Hell, they might even go looking for him, and what then? It wasn’t as if they could find him anywhere on Earth.

  No, he’d need to go home. Perhaps he could come back again after things had settled down, if Harrison would be willing to talk to him. That could all be worked out later. For now, he was supposed to be keeping an eye out for anything suspicious.

  He drifted around the outer edge of the crowd, moving in the direction of the other arena, still scanning auras. Now he did spot Harrison in his nondescript illusionary disguise: he stood in a shadowy alcove in a corner past the bar, his aura likewise disguised to make him look mundane. Two other people were with him: a tall, statuesque woman and a small, slim man, both dressed in work clothes. The man wore a light bag slung over one shoulder. Stone wondered if the woman was Rovenna. He didn’t approach the group or even acknowledge it, though, allowing his gaze to skate over them and continue his aura scan. He noticed Harrison didn’t acknowledge him either.

  He was about to head back to the tent and see if he could be of any assistance with getting their construct ready for its fight when another figure caught his eye. Curious, he sidled closer for a better look.

  The figure stood at the back of the crowd about ten feet from Stone, and appeared to be watching the battle with interest. By now, the trash-can construct had managed to right itself and was attempting to bowl its lighter opponent down using its greater mass and lower center of gravity. The crowd cheered as the blue-and-gold fighter stepped aside again and the trash can crashed into the railing.

  Stone pretended to be interested in the match while watching the slight figure out of the corner of his eye. It wore a dark garment halfway between a tunic and a hooded sweatshirt, with the hood pulled up over its head. Stone couldn’t see its face; in fact, the strange garment made it impossible to tell whether it was male or female. A quick look at its aura revealed a steady, pulsing green, but when he focused closer he noticed an oddness about it—a kind of flickering around the edges that he’d never seen before. Nobody else seemed to be paying any attention to the figure; even those standing close to it didn’t appear more nervous than anyone else. As far as Stone could tell, it was as interested in the battle as everyone else.

  He used another cheer (the blue-and-gold construct had managed to flip the trash can on its back again) to cover a quick glance back toward Harrison and his companions. The woman was still there, deep in conversation with Harrison, but the slim young man was now gone. It didn’t take Stone long to spot his aura, though—he was heading toward a doorway on the opposite side of the room. Stone couldn’t read the sign above it, but the image clearly identified it as the restrooms.

  The hooded figure moved now, drifting around the outer edge of the right-side ring in the direction of the bar. Stone tensed, careful to keep his aura under control, trying to decide if he should keep the figure in sight or if that would draw too much attention to himself. He remained where he was for the moment but kept watching; the figure passed Harrison’s alcove without slowing, moving instead to stand in front of the bar. He’s just getting a drink. But nonetheless, Stone switched direction and walked back toward the tents. He didn’t want to disturb Harrison during his meeting, but at least he could ask Errin and Karol about the strange individual.

  “Wondered where you went,” Karol greeted as Stone entered. “We’re about ready to go here.”

  Errin crouched on the tarp in front of the construct. She had a panel open on one of its legs and was making an adjustment. “See anything interesting?”

  “Everything out there is interesting,” Stone admitted. “Harrison’s talking to some woman over by the bar—I assume she’s who he came here to see. But I did see someone I wanted to ask you about—looked a bit suspicious.”

  Instantly, both of them focused on him. “Suspicious how?” Errin asked, glancing toward the flap covering the tent’s entrance.

  “Not sure. He wasn’t doing anything odd—just watching one of the fights, and then went over to the bar. But he was dressed strangely, and his aura looked a bit unusual. Want to take a look?”

  “You do it, Karol,” Errin said. “I need to finish this—we’ll be up any minute.”

  “Right,” Karol said. “Let’s go.”

  Stone led him back out as another cheer went up from the crowd. He couldn’t see what was going on past all the people, but apparently one or the other of the fighters had finally won the bout.

  “He was over here by the bar when I saw him last,” Stone said, choosing the opposite direction around the crowd that wouldn’t take them past Harrison and the woman. “Or she—I couldn’t tell.”

  “What did they look like?” Karol once again
seemed hyper-vigilant, his gaze in constant motion.

  “Hard to say. He was wearing an odd hooded thing. But nobody in the crowd acted like he was unusual in any way.” He studied the few people in front of the bar, but no longer saw the hooded figure among them. “Damn. He’s gone off somewhere.”

  “Come on. Let’s find him fast.” Karol slipped between the bar patrons and the crowd around the ring as the latter group began to drift back toward the other ring.

  Stone noticed the trash-can construct lying on its back in the middle. One of its arms lay a few feet from it, and its left leg was bent at an angle that would have been crippling for a human fighter. He hurried to catch up with Karol, still scanning the crowd. Where had the hooded figure gone? Had he left already?

  “Do you see him?” Karol asked as they rounded the far side of the crowd and headed for the area between the two rings.

  “No. I’m wondering if he might have gone. We could ask the door guard—”

  Karol paused. “Let’s finish looking in here first. If he’s gone, he’s not our problem. He’s probably nothing to worry about, but I want to get back to Errin. We’ll be up as soon as they clear out the ring.” He set off again, moving fast.

  “Right.” Stone caught up with him, shifting between magical and normal sight, trying to spot the figure’s pulsing green aura among all the other mingling colors.

  As they reached the other side of the ring and approached the tent again, they passed the slim young man who’d been with Harrison and the woman before, on his way back from the restroom. He nodded politely to them, adjusting his heavy shoulder bag as he pushed through the crowd. Stone nodded back.

  “I don’t see him.” Karol stopped in front of the tent, looking frustrated. “It’s all right, though—if he’s not here, he’s not here. I’ll go tell Trevor about him, just in case—can you go back to Errin and tell her I’ll be along in a minute?”

  “Of course. Sorry for the false alarm.”

  “Don’t be—we need to be careful. I’ll feel much better when we’re out of here. Back soon.” Karol strode back through the crowd toward Harrison’s group.

  Stone watched him go for a few seconds, feeling suddenly uneasy. As he turned toward the tents, something nudged at the edges of his thoughts—something wrong—but he couldn’t put his finger on what it was. You’re just jumping at shadows, he admonished himself. Whoever that guy was, he’s gone.

  He pushed past the tent flap. Errin had put the panel back on the construct’s leg and was looking impatient. “Where’s Karol? They’re going to call us any minute.”

  “He’ll be back. He had to go tell Harrison about—”

  A sudden, wrenching chill gripped Stone as the elusive reason for his uneasiness locked into place.

  An image flashed to his mind’s eye: the woman’s slim aide, heading back from the restroom.

  The man’s shoulder bag hadn’t been heavy when he’d gone in.

  Bloody hell.

  He spun toward the door. “Get ready to go!” he called over his shoulder.

  “What—” Errin demanded, but that was all Stone heard before he was out and away, running across the crowded space, shoving people out of his way with magic, his gaze locked on the shadowy forms of Harrison and the woman. The slim man with the newly-heavy bag had nearly reached them now, and Karol was only a few steps behind.

  “Karol!” Stone yelled, flinging up a magical shield. “The aide! He’s a—”

  The young aide smiled.

  The world went white, and a massive boom echoed through the chamber.

  34

  Stone’s world exploded into screams, flashing lights, and disorientation.

  He staggered as something slammed hard into his shield, throwing him backward. Something else—an odd wrenching feeling—clawed at him but was gone before he could identify it.

  The shield vanished—but it had done its job. Stone scrambled back to his feet, physically uninjured but mind spinning with confusion.

  What had happened?

  The scene in front of him was something out of a horror movie. Everywhere he looked were fallen bodies, bleeding bodies, struggling figures—and that was only close to where he stood. Beyond him, on the other side of the space, nobody was struggling. Instead, more bodies and parts of bodies were strewn around as if a child had rampaged through a doll factory. Most of the lights had gone out; only those on the opposite side of the room, behind Stone, still functioned. Smoke and dust further obscured vision.

  “No!” he yelled, coughing, his voice rising to join other screams to his left, to his right, and behind him. None in front. His mind still reeling with shock, he vaulted over some of the fallen bodies and ran toward where his friends had been. Where was Harrison? Where were Karol and the woman? Where was the traitorous aide?

  Something caught his eye. He glanced down and stopped, stunned. Only a few feet ahead of him, Karol’s broken body lay splayed, his illusionary disguise gone now. His left arm was gone, his open, unseeing eyes staring up at the ceiling. “No…” Stone moaned. All around him, the screams of pain and panic still echoed.

  He spotted movement in front of him. Figures were moving in the smoke now. He plunged ahead, stumbling over more bodies. “Harrison!”

  The figures had surrounded another blood-soaked body, lifting it from the ground. It sagged in their grip, unconscious or dead.

  Stone skidded to a stop. “Oh gods, no…”

  The sagging figure was Harrison, and he too no longer had his disguise.

  Already the other people—at least four of them—were dragging him away.

  “Stop!” Stone screamed. He flung a bolt of pure magical energy at one of the figures, and roared in triumph as it screamed and dropped. “Let him go, damn you!” He was close enough to see them now: two men, one woman, none that he recognized. All of them wore the high-collared long coats of the Talented, including the one he’d dropped. How had everyone here missed them? How had they gotten in?

  He gasped when Harrison’s eyes fluttered open and he raised his head. Blood ran down his face from a deep cut in his forehead, and he looked disoriented—but for just a moment his gaze met Stone’s and it sharpened.

  “Get them…out…” he rasped, barely audible. “I’ll…follow…” Then one of his captors hit him with something and he slumped again.

  Before Stone could react, all of them vanished.

  “No!” he screamed, letting the spell he’d been preparing to throw at them fizzle. “Damn you, no!”

  All around him, chaos continued to erupt. The big metal door slammed open and more long-coated figures rushed in.

  This time, Stone reacted instantly. His heart hammering, he flung up a disregarding spell—easier than invisibility in his current state. A quick final glance at the space where Harrison had been showed more horror: the woman he’d been speaking to lay crumpled against the wall next to the man Stone had dropped. She had a bloody, gaping wound in her chest, and her neck was bent at a sickening angle. If that had been Rovenna, either she’d been accidentally caught in the bomb blast, or she hadn’t known about this any more than Harrison had.

  There was no sign of the treacherous aide. Either he’d disappeared in the chaos, or the bomb he’d detonated had blown him to unrecognizable bits.

  Stone didn’t have time to wait. The long-coated interlopers were pushing through the smoke- and dust-filled air, using magic to kill every living being they encountered. He’d have to act fast if they were to have a chance of getting out of here. Where was Errin? Was she hurt?

  He ran back to the tent, keeping low and risking invisibility long enough to get him there. Even stunned, staggered by psychic feedback, Stone’s body sang with the magic. He called it, and it came to him as if it had been waiting for him all along. If he hadn’t been terrified, it would have been an exhilarating feeling. Now, he could only hope his endurance would last long enough to get him and Errin out of here.

  She was outside the tent, scanning the
crowd. Looking for him? Looking for Harrison? Her expression showed terror, but also resolve. She hadn’t lost her head like many of the others around her had.

  Stone shimmered back to visibility next to her. “Errin!”

  She jumped, wheeling to point a strange-looking gun at him, but then gasped and lowered it when she saw who it was. “Alastair! What’s going on? Where’s Trevor? Where’s Karol?”

  “We have to get out of here,” he panted. He grabbed her upper arm and tried to drag her toward the hidden exit. “Come on. Leave the robot.”

  “Wait! Where’s—”

  “Karol’s dead.” His voice shook. “They took Harrison. It was the woman’s aide—he had some kind of bomb in his satchel. She’s dead too. Come on!”

  “Took him?” Her gaze darted back toward the other side of the bar. “Where—”

  “He’s gone. They disappeared. He said to get you out,” Stone urged. “That he’d follow. Come on!”

  She didn’t ask any other questions. Gripping her gun, she hurried after Stone.

  “Stay low,” he said, calling up the disregarding spell over both of them. “If we can—no!”

  He pulled to a stop, terror gripping him again. The secret exit, the one hidden by the stack of crates, had swung open, and more long-coated figures were swarming through. “It’s some kind of raid! They planned this!” He whirled around, looking for another exit. “Is there another way out?”

  One of the figures spotted them. He yelled something and started to run in their direction, but made it only a couple steps before his body spun and a chunk of his head flew off. He collapsed as Errin lowered her gun.

  “I don’t know!” she said. Her eyes showed cold resolve, and her voice shook only slightly. “I haven’t seen—”

  “Come!” said another voice behind them. “Hurry!”

  Stone whirled, ready with a spell, but let it die uncast.

  The hooded figure—the one he and Karol had been looking for—stood crouched behind them, its head swiveling back and forth as it watched the scene.