by R. L. King
“It does.” Harrison didn’t appear disappointed, or disapproving—in fact, his impassive mask was back. “Some other time, then. I don’t know when I will return to Earth, but the offer remains open at any point you wish to pursue it.”
Stone took a last look around, wondering if he’d ever see this place again. Wondering if he’d have turned down this opportunity ten years ago, or even five. Harrison wasn’t a man you could take for granted, or assume everything would be the same the next time you saw him. This might have been his one shot, and he was letting it go. “Thank you, Mr. Harrison. It’s been a pleasure, as always, and I’m in your debt for everything you’ve done for me.”
“As am I to you, Dr. Stone. I am grateful you chose to assist my associates in retrieving me.”
“You’d have gotten out on your own eventually, and we both know it. I don’t think anyone can hold you for long, can they?”
“Likely you are correct. But the experience would have been much more unpleasant.”
Stone offered his hand. “Anyway, thanks. For everything.”
Harrison shook it; his grip was firm, strong, but not crushing. “Are you ready to leave now?”
“I am.” He’d thought about going back to see the others for one last time—at least Errin, Tanissa, and Kira. Now, though, long goodbyes seemed more than he could handle. “Please—just tell everyone thanks, and it was good to know them. Perhaps we’ll all meet again.”
“Perhaps we will.” Harrison indicated the center of the floor. When Stone took his place there, he said, “You will return to the Obsidian. Speak with Mr. Nakamura—he can arrange a flight for you.”
“Got it. Goodbye for now, Mr. Harrison.” Stone squared his shoulders, stood straight, and fixed his gaze on a point in front of him, taking one last look at the swirling beauty of the stars and the wild magical lightshow outside the glass aerie. He didn’t look at Harrison on purpose, perhaps fearful he’d have a last-second change of mind.
As the breathtaking night sky shimmered and faded around him, his last thought before he disappeared was that he’d forgotten to ask about the new silver band in his aura.
54
He didn’t call before he stopped by Verity’s apartment.
His arrival in Las Vegas had been uneventful; as Harrison had predicted, he’d appeared in a bare, featureless space at the Obsidian that looked like an unused storeroom. From there, he’d had no trouble locating the elevator and taking it downstairs, where he called Nakamura on the house phone and relayed Harrison’s message. Less than an hour later he was on the Obsidian’s private jet on his way back to San Francisco, and an hour after that he was back at his townhouse, walking through it in a daze as a delighted Raider wound around his ankles and threatened to trip him on the stairs.
“Yes, it’s good to see you too,” he murmured, picking up the cat before retrieving his wallet and keys from the dresser in the bedroom. “We’ll talk later. Right now, I’ve got things to do.”
He paused at home only long enough for another shower and a change back into his own clothes. They felt odd, somehow unfamiliar even compared to similar ones he’d worn in New Argana; it took him a few moments to realize that his T-shirt fit more snugly in the chest and a little less so in the waist than it used to. He hadn’t gained a lot of muscle in his month of intensive training, but it was definitely enough to notice. It hadn’t been something he’d had time to pay much attention to before. He made a mental note to get to work on that custom-clothing spell after life had settled down—and to see about adding some time at Stanford’s health club to his schedule.
Now, he hesitated at the foot of the stairs leading up to Verity’s second-floor apartment. He knew she was home, because her little black SUV was parked in its customary space. He glanced at his watch again: a bit after nine pm. Definitely not too late to visit—Verity was as much a night owl as he was, so this would still be early for her. The little 31 caught his eye again, and once more he marveled at how Harrison had been correct: it was the end of July, which meant it had only been three days since he’d stepped through the doorway in his attic and stepped out into another dimension.
Three days.
Even though he’d never known Harrison to joke—or even to display more than a wry and restrained sense of humor at all—Stone had been halfway convinced he’d either misheard or misunderstood what the other mage had told him. It simply wasn’t possible by everything he knew.
Time to change what you know, then, his little voice, which had been mostly silent for the past few days, suggested. You’re a scientist—you do it all the time.
Never quite like this, though.
He glanced up the stairs. A faint light shone through the blinds covering the kitchen window, further reinforcing his belief that Verity must be home. Perhaps he should have called first—what if she had a guest? What if Kyla, her Harpy girlfriend from San Francisco, was here?
So what if she is, you prat? Just tell Verity you’re back and be on your way.
He had no idea what had caused his sudden indecision, but it annoyed him. Before he had time to reconsider it, he strode up the stairs and knocked softly on the door.
The light behind the blinds brightened and a few seconds later the door opened.
For a moment, the two of them merely stared at each other—her in surprise, him in relief. She wore black sweatpants, an old Stanford T-shirt, and those little half-socks women wore when they didn’t want you to think they were wearing any under their shoes.
“Hello, Verity,” he said softly.
“Doc…?” she whispered. She did nothing to hide her wide-eyed confusion. “My God—you’re…back? Already?”
“May I come in?”
“Oh!” She stepped quickly aside. “I’m sorry. Just—a little surprised, is all. Come in!”
She led him inside, into her tiny living room. The TV was on, playing some mindless action movie, but it appeared she’d been sitting on the sofa reading a book. “Would you like something to drink?”
“No. Thank you. I’m fine. I just wanted to see you. It’s not too late, is it?”
“No, of course it isn’t.” She swallowed, looking him up and down, almost as if inspecting him for hidden injuries. Then, as if she’d reached the limits of her restraint, she strode forward and flung her arms around him. “I’m so glad to see you,” she muttered, her face buried in his shoulder. “But—did something go wrong? Did it not work? It’s only been—”
“Three days. I know.” He held her close, only now realizing how much he had missed doing it. “It didn’t go wrong, Verity. It worked.”
Her chin tilted up and she met his gaze. “It…did? In such a short time? Then, you found Mr. Harrison?”
“I found him, yes.”
“And he showed you how to do his magic? It doesn’t burn you out anymore?”
In answer, he pulled back, surprised at how reluctant he was to break the contact, and gestured at her sofa. It rose smoothly from the floor and floated there, three feet up.
She gaped at it. “Holy shit…And that’s not—you haven’t—”
“I haven’t taken power from anyone since before I left. And I never need to again.” He lowered the sofa back into its former spot. “I never want to again.”
Her gaze shifted between the sofa and Stone. “That’s…amazing. I—I don’t know what to say.”
“Just say you’re happy for me,” he said with a gentle smile.
“I am. I absolutely am. That’s wonderful. I want to hear all about it.” She embraced him again, this time with more restraint. After a moment, though, she looked up at him again. “Doc…?”
“Yes?”
She took a step back, still gripping his arms, and studied him. “Something’s… different.” Her eyes widened as her gaze settled on his chest. “Have you…buffed up?”
“A bit, yes,” he said, amused. “Side effect of the magical training.”
Her eyes narrowed. “In three days?” Tentativel
y, giving him a chance to step back if he objected, she reached out and put her palm on his chest.
“It’s a long story. And come on—I don’t look that different. I’m not Jason or anything.”
“No…you don’t look that different.” She stepped back, taking him in, and then offered a wicked grin. “I like it. But you’ve got to explain to me how you did that in three days.”
“I will. But…not just now, all right? We’ve plenty of time for that. I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.”
“So…” she said, moving back over to the sofa and patting the seat next to her, “—you don’t have to go back? No more training?”
He thought about the phenomenal, unearthly beauty of the blazing starscape in Harrison’s glass-walled sanctum, about all the things he could learn about the universe if only he made the choice to devote himself to them. About how, if he applied himself, he could potentially have access to power no other mage on Earth could claim.
It was all there, spread out before him like some kind of cosmic buffet of knowledge. All he’d have to do would be to reach out and take it.
He could have it all—and he wanted it.
Someday, he wanted it.
He settled himself next to Verity. “No more training,” he said softly, pulling her close as she drew her legs up under her and snuggled into the crook of his arm. “I’ve had my fill of other worlds for now. Time to focus on this one for a while.”
Alastair Stone returns in
Book 15 of the Alastair Stone Chronicles
Look for it in Fall 2018!
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Books by R. L. King
ALASTAIR STONE CHRONICLES SERIES
Stone and a Hard Place (Book 1)
The Forgotten (Book 2)
The Threshold (Book 3)
The Source (Book 4)
Alastair Stone Chronicles Box Set (includes books 1-4)
Core of Stone (Book 5)
Blood and Stone (Book 6)
Heart of Stone (Book 7)
Flesh and Stone (Book 8)
The Infernal Heart (Book 9)
The Other Side (Book 10)
Path of Stone (Book 11)
Necessary Sacrifices (Book 12)
Game of Stone (Book 13)
Steel and Stone (Book 14)
SHADOWRUN (Published by Catalyst Game Labs)
Borrowed Time
Wolf and Buffalo
Big Dreams
Veiled Extraction (coming in 2020)
About the Author
R. L. King enjoys hanging out with her very understanding spouse and small herd of cats, watching way too much Doctor Who, and attending conventions when she can. She is an Active member of the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America, the Horror Writers' Association, and the International Association of Media Tie-in Writers.
www.alastairstonechronicles.com
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