by R. L. King
“Hello, Alastair. It’s a pleasure to hear from you again so soon.” Her voice, light and pleasant, carried the serenity of age and confidence. She spoke English flawlessly, but with a thick accent.
“Hello, Oyunaa. I hope you’re well. I’m sorry to disturb you again so soon, but I was wondering if there’s any chance you’ve turned up anything about a new source for the Vanazarite I’m looking for.”
“I am sorry, but I have not. As I mentioned last time we spoke, I was surprised to have someone else in search of it. I’ve had it here in my shop for almost a year with no interest. It is, as you know, a highly specialized and expensive substance. I did not expect two buyers to be seeking it at the same time.” She gave a melodic chuckle. “Perhaps I should have held an auction.”
“I wish you had,” Stone said in the same tone. “Now that I’ve finally got this portal ready to go, I’m impatient to be done with it while it’s still fresh in my mind.” He considered. “I know you can’t tell me who the buyer is, but if their need isn’t urgent, perhaps we might come to an understanding. I’d be willing to pay a premium over their cost if they’d let me have it. Could you contact them and ask? I know it’s a long shot, but…”
Her sigh came through the crackling line. “I wish I could. But I don’t have his contact information. He is not one of my usual buyers. In fact, I’m not even certain how he got my information. He seemed…” She struggled for the English word. “…inexperienced.”
“Inexperienced?” Stone frowned. That wasn’t a word anyone wanted anywhere near someone building a portal. “What do you mean?”
“I…am not certain, but if I were to offer a guess, I would say he is not planning to construct the portal himself. As I’m sure you know, it isn’t difficult to obtain a list of the required components. They are expensive, but they are not a secret. The difficulty is in obtaining them, as well as in creating the formulae and performing the actual construction.”
“Of course,” Stone said. Anyone who built portals knew that. Hell, if you knew where to look these days, you could probably find the list on the internet. “Did he mention who was building it for him? Perhaps I could have a chat with him or her.” There weren’t many portal experts in the world nowadays, so the odds were good he knew the person, at least by reputation if not personally.
“He did not. In fact, once again, I got the impression he didn’t have someone in mind. Our conversation was…odd.” Her pleasant voice took on a troubled tone. “I almost didn’t sell him the substance, but I had overextended myself recently in search of some other rare components, and his payment took care of my debts.”
“I see.” He pondered again. “Did you give him any suggestions? Perhaps I could provide him some assistance.”
She chuckled. “I did not know you were in the portal consulting business, Alastair.”
“I’m not. But at least this way, I might get a chance to talk him into letting me buy his Vanazarite, with the promise to help him later when he’s ready to go with his own portal.”
“That might have been a good idea. I wish I had thought of it, especially since the buyer was an American. You’re still living in America, aren’t you?”
“Most of the time, yes. So what did you tell him?”
“Well…the Occult Symposium is coming up very soon in Chicago. I suggested he go there and try to locate someone. I am not sure if any of those capable of portal construction will attend, but I told him it is a good place to start.”
Ah, and there it was, coming full circle. Stone smiled tightly. It did seem as if the Universe was conspiring to lure him to the Symposium, despite his promise to Verity. “American. Hmm. That’s interesting.”
“Yes. I am sure the name he gave me was not his true one, but I do not ask questions as long as the payment is good.” She was back to sounding pleasant and unruffled again. “I am sorry to move on, but I’m afraid I have many things yet to do tonight. Is there any other way I can assist you?”
“Not right now. Thanks, Oyunaa. I appreciate your time.” Stone kept the disappointment out his voice. She was an ethical businesswoman, and that was a good thing—even though sometimes it did come back to bite him. “Have a good evening.”
He hung up and put the phone back down, staring at the spiraling doodles he’d been making on his pad as he talked. He didn’t even remember drawing them: magical sigils, symbols, the beginnings of a circle.
Might as well put the portal out of your mind for a while, he told himself as he stood. Having Oyunaa contact the buyer and try to persuade him to give up his purchase had been his last hope, but if the guy had used an assumed name, he obviously didn’t want to be identified. So—
Stone stopped, an electrified jolt ripping through him.
Could it be?
No—it wasn’t possible. That would be too much of a coincidence.
But yet…
He grabbed the phone again and punched Redial. Once again, it rang several times before she picked up.
Stone spoke breathlessly. “Oyunaa. Sorry to bother you again, but I’ll only take a moment. I’ve got a question about your buyer.”
“I told you, I can’t—”
“Hang on. I’m going to send you a photo. Can you tell me if he’s the one?” Before she could answer, he switched over, pulled up the photo of the sketch he got from Bill Laverty, and sent it to her. This new phone made it so much easier than the old one to do that. Amused, Stone thought about how many mages he knew who were rubbish with mundane technology, and was glad he wasn’t one of them. He might not have the computer skills of Gina or even Jason, but at least he could manage his phone.
He tapped the speaker and leaned forward. “Did you get it? Is he the one?”
There was a long pause—apparently Oyunaa wasn’t as tech-savvy as he was—and then a rustle as she picked up her phone again. “That’s him,” she said in astonishment. “Yes, he is the man who came to me. Do you know him? That looks like some sort of police sketch. Dear gods, Alastair, is this man a criminal?”
“We think so, yes. We suspect him of kidnapping several young boys. So far they were all released unharmed, but a lot of people want him caught. We think he might have done it again.”
“That’s horrible.” Her voice took on a combination of outrage and sadness.
“It is.” Stone knew she had several children, and more grandchildren, so her reaction was understandable. In fact, he’d been counting on it. “So if there’s any way you can help me to track him down, I’d appreciate it. I know you wouldn’t normally do it, but in this case—”
“Believe me, if there were a way, I would give you the information in an instant. But I wasn’t lying: he gave me no way to contact him. He paid for his purchase with a secured bank transfer of the type that isn’t easily traced, which isn’t uncommon when dealing with these kinds of sums. I promise, if he reaches out to me again, I will let you know.”
“Thank you. Just the fact that you’ve verified it’s the same man helps.” Stone was surprised the man hadn’t gone to Oyunaa using one of his disguises, but then again, as far as he was aware, both Stone and Roy Darner were dead. Even if he’d somehow seen the sketch circulating, it sounded like he’d made his purchase from Oyunaa before that happened.
“Check the Symposium,” she said. “If he’s looking for a portal expert, most of those I know are very reclusive and not in the United States. But even if none of them attend, it’s his best chance to find someone who might put him in touch with one.”
Stone hung up and headed back upstairs, where Raider greeted him with an accusatory mrrow and tried to lead him to his food dish. As he put out fresh food and water for the cat, he continued to go over what he’d found out—and its implications. As far as he could see, there was no way around it.
He was going to have to break his promise to Verity.
He pulled out his phone and punched Jason’s number decisively.
“Hey. Calling back this soon? Got something new?�
�
“I do. Can you get away from the agency for a few days? You and Amber both?”
“Uh…maybe. Why?”
“We’re going to the Occult Symposium in Chicago.”
24
It was a good thing the portals were safe now, because Stone’s mind was only halfway on the trip as he, Jason, and Amber traversed the foggy tunnel on their way to Chicago.
Mostly, he was thinking about the text exchange he’d had with Verity the previous night. He’d initiated it while sitting on the sofa in his living room, a Guinness on the table next to him and Raider perched in his lap almost as if he knew his human might like some feline support.
Are you there? he’d sent.
The pause before she answered had been long enough to suggest she’d seen the text when it arrived, but considered her reply carefully before sending it. I’m here, it finally came back.
Now it was Stone’s turn to pause. It was uncharacteristic for him to be this hesitant, and he was getting tired of it. He tightened his hand on the phone and tapped in a short, simple message: I’ve got to break my promise to you. Can’t be helped.
Another, longer interval passed. What promise?
That I won’t come to the Symposium.
The little dots cycled, disappeared, then cycled again. Why?
Something’s come up. We’re looking for someone, and suspect he might turn up there. I won’t interfere with your activities.
We? Her reply was quicker this time.
Jason and Amber are coming too. It started out as Jason’s case, but it’s spiraled beyond that.
Who is this guy? Why do you think he’s here?
He’s a mage, and a kidnapper of children. If you want the whole story, I can tell you when we get there. Too long to text. But we’ve got to find him before he does it again. We think he might already have.
Long pause again. Wow. Yeah, of course you have to find him. Anything I can do to help?
Stone smiled, stroking Raider. At least Verity still had her priorities straight—that was an encouraging sign. Where are you now? Are you in Chicago yet?
Getting there tomorrow.
He was tempted to ask her how her quest had gone, but that wasn’t relevant right now. If she wanted to talk, they could do it after they’d dealt with the kidnapper—assuming he even showed up. That was still a pretty big assumption.
We’ll be coming tomorrow as well. I’ll let you take the lead on whether you want to see us, but I’ll keep my promise to stay away from whatever you’re setting up. I’m 100% focused on finding this man now.
Thanks, Doc. Of course I want to see you. All of you. I’ve missed you. And I’m serious, I want to help if I can. Let me know when you get in.
Stone wished he could see her aura. She never could hide it from him, and he wanted to see if she was as enthusiastic about their arrival as she was letting on, or merely putting on a good face because there wasn’t anything she could do to stop it. That would have to wait, though.
Brilliant, he sent. We’ll see you tomorrow.
Looking forward to it.
He wondered if she truly was, but right now he had more important things on his mind.
The trip through was uneventful. They didn’t even see any of the far-off black shapes cruising around, and after Stone had shared Oyunaa’s story with him and Amber, Jason was more determined than ever to find the man before he could cause any more trouble. Even if it meant another portal trip.
“I’m kind of getting used to this,” he said in surprise when they stepped through into the downstairs storeroom at the bar in Chicago. “I still don’t like it, but it’s not as bad as it used to be.”
“You just don’t want me to see you’re scared,” Amber said with a chuckle, her deep affection for him coming through clearly in her tone.
“I don’t mind if you see I’m scared.” He leaned over and kissed her. “And anyway, it doesn’t matter—you can smell it.”
Stone paused to question the bar’s proprietor, an Irishman named Eamon McClellan, about whether he’d seen anyone matching the kidnapper’s description coming through, but McClellan ruefully shook his head.
“Sorry, mate. With the Symposium startin’, that portal’s had quite a workout the last couple days. It’s hard enough keepin’ the mundane clientele from gettin’ curious about why people keep comin’ up from the basement at all hours, without watchin’ individual arrivals. We’ve been tryin’ ever since we got that photo, but so far nothin’.”
Stone wasn’t surprised. If their man was coming, he’d be more careful than ever. He’d already proven he had disguises that were difficult for even mages to penetrate.
“So what’s the plan?” Jason asked when they’d secured a rental car and were on their way to the hotel south of Chicago where the Symposium was being held. “Just run around and look for him? I’m not gonna be much use questioning people in a hotel full of mages.”
“No,” Stone agreed. “But I’m hoping our secret weapon is Amber’s nose.” He turned briefly toward her before returning his attention to the road. “You do still remember his scent from the car, right?”
“Oh, yeah. If he’s there, I’ll find him.”
“Do you think he’s gonna look like the photo?” Jason asked from the back seat.
“Doubtful, especially if he’s found out it’s circulating. And I wouldn’t put that past him. I think our best bet is for you two to wander around while Amber tries to catch the scent, and me to track down any portal experts who happen to be in attendance.”
“What about illusions?” Amber scanned the road ahead of them, ever watchful. “Can you look for anyone who’s using an illusionary disguise?”
“Unfortunately not. A number of attendees at the Symposium employ some kind of illusion, and there’ll be so much magic in the air it will be difficult to pin down anything specific. From what I’ve heard, the Symposium has been changing from the last time we attended in Los Angeles, Jason. It used to be mostly mundanes interested in fortune-telling and new-age philosophy and whatnot, but now they’re focusing much more on attracting actual practitioners and mundanes familiar with the magical world. If nothing else, you might pick up some new contacts for your little network.”
“Yeah, maybe. After we catch the guy, though. That’s the most important thing.” He paused, shifting uncomfortably. “What about V? Did you talk to her? We’re not just gonna drop in on her unannounced, are we?”
“I texted her last night. She knows we’re coming.”
“And…how was she about that?” His tone was careful.
Stone shrugged. “Fine. She asked if there was anything she could do to help, and I promised to stay out of her hair otherwise. She says she’s looking forward to seeing us.” He glanced sideways to catch Amber giving him an appraising look, but she quickly returned her attention to the road.
The hotel where the Symposium was being held was in a middle-class suburb south of Chicago. It was a small complex rather than a single building, near the shore of Lake Michigan. The ten-story main building included the guest rooms, the largest restaurant, and several conference rooms, while the remaining ones were in several other structures of varying sizes, arranged in a loose circle around a central courtyard. The courtyard also featured a large outdoor café and a combination stage and meeting area.
Stone had already arranged memberships and rooms for all of them—the event rarely sold out, and this year was no exception—so they handed over the car keys to the valet and headed inside.
“Wow,” Jason said as an older couple drifted by. The man was dressed in a bottle-green suit and the woman sported a flowing, voluminous navy-blue robe dress with gold embroidery and an elaborate hairstyle that had gone out of style before he was born. “I guess I wouldn’t have any trouble figuring out that this wasn’t your typical Rotarian convention.”
Stone chuckled. “Yes, many of our kind do tend to be a bit…unconventional.”
“Ouch.” Amber rolled
her eyes. “I see what you did there.”
“Dad jokes, Al?” Jason shook his head. “Really?”
“Oh, sod off. Come on. Let’s get checked in.”
They joined the line at the front desk, passing several elaborately decorated booths and tables featuring everything from esoteric literature to tarot-reading spaces. Most of them were still being set up. Stone used the opportunity to scan the crowd, looking for anyone who resembled either the man from the sketch or the one from the fertility clinics. Jason had tried to enhance the photos Gina had obtained, but they were still small, grainy, and not much help.
He shifted to magical sight, then sighed. He’d been right: even at this early point, the ambient level of magical energy was high enough that it would be difficult to pin down anything specific. People were already casting a lot of subtle spells, and no doubt using illusions to make themselves more attractive to members of their preferred sex. In addition to everything else, the Symposium also served as a major magical meat market where practitioners who might not see another mage the rest of the year could hunt for hookups. He wondered how the mundanes managed to miss all of this, but a glance at the front-desk clerks told him that aside from a few sideways glances at the more eccentric of the guests, they didn’t notice anything.
“It’s kind of like a furry convention,” Jason said with a chuckle as they advanced toward the desk.
Stone tilted his head. “A what?”
“You know—furries. The people who like to dress up like cartoon animals. There’s a convention in San Jose every year. I’m sure the people at their hotel give them some pretty strange looks too. But hey, their money spends same as anyone else’s.”
“I wouldn’t put it past some of these people to dress up like all sorts of things as the weekend goes on.”
