Mortal Imperative: An Alastair Stone Urban Fantasy Novel (Alastair Stone Chronicles Book 24)

by R. L. King

  “Anyway,” Jason put in, “are you saying what I think you’re saying? That Braithwaite’s ghost, or echo, or whatever, might still be out there, and he somehow found Miriam? You think he’s the one who’s been teaching her all this stuff?”

  Stone considered, resuming his pacing. “I don’t know. It’s fairly farfetched, and I’ve never heard of anything like it before.”

  “Maybe he possessed her cat or something, like what happened with Dr. Benchley at your place,” Verity said, only half-joking

  “Is there a way to find out if it’s possible?” Ian asked.

  “Maybe. Let me check with Eddie and Ward, and Kolinsky. Perhaps there are references out there somewhere.” Stone dropped back into his chair with a loud exhalation. “This just keeps getting madder and more complicated, doesn’t it?”

  “Sure looks that way,” Amber said. “Are you going to go back and talk to your friend Laura, and try to figure out what happened to Frank?”

  “I suppose that’s my next step.”

  “You want us to do anything in the meantime?” Jason asked.

  “I can’t see what, except keep your mind open for any other harebrained ideas that might occur to you. Pass them along, no matter how daft they sound.” He shuddered. “I sincerely hope you’re wrong about Brathwaite’s echo, but it could explain a lot.”

  “Yeah,” Verity said soberly. “And we still don’t have any idea what the connection is between Richter, the ghouls, Miriam, and potentially Brathwaite’s ghost. What are they trying to do? If Richter’s trying a new scheme to make himself immortal, it seems pretty complicated to me—and not very likely to work.”

  “I don’t think we have all the details yet.” Stone flashed her a smile. “But brilliant thinking on the timeline thing, though. That may have moved us along the path faster than otherwise.”

  “Hey, spending enough time with you makes thinking in strange ways kind of second nature.” Her expression went hard again. “But I’m telling you, Doc—I want a piece of Miriam, or Brathwaite, or whoever was responsible for what happened. Promise me.”

  Stone didn’t even bother trying to talk her out of it. “Don’t worry. Honestly, once we’ve got this figured out a bit better—and especially when we work out where this lot is hiding—I’ll be open to all the help all of you are willing to offer. I suspect we’ll need it.”

  27

  It was too late to call Eddie that night, but Stone couldn’t sleep so he got up early and called from the study first thing the following morning.

  “Eddie, I’ve got a completely mental idea I need you to research for me.”

  “Well. Good afternoon to you too, Stone,” Eddie said, amused. “Or are you back in the States and actually managed to drag yerself outta bed to share this with me?”

  “Guilty. Not that I actually slept much. Remember last year, when we dealt with Brathwaite and all that other rubbish back at the house?”

  He chuckled. “Mate, I’m more likely to forget my own mum’s birthday than I’ll ever forget that.”

  “Yes. Well, then, I’m sure you’ll recall the part where Brathwaite’s echo possessed me, and I managed to turf him out.”

  “That was sorta the cherry on the top o’ the whole mess, now wasn’t it?”

  “Eddie…is it possible he’s still alive? Or whatever passes for ‘alive’ among echoes?”

  The line crackled with silence.

  “Are you still there?”

  “You’re…’avin’ me on, right?”

  “I wish I were. I had Ian and the others over last night to discuss the situation with Cheltham. Verity’s sure she’s the same person as Miriam Padgett. She must not have bothered with an illusionary disguise when we saw her, since at the time we’d have had no way to recognize her. We were speculating about how she managed to both figure out she’s a mage and learn necromancy in such a short time, and wondered if she might have had a teacher. That was when Verity realized Miriam Padgett disappeared shortly after we kicked Brathwaite’s echo out.”

  “Bloody ’ell…” Eddie murmured. “So you think Brathwaite didn’t get disrupted? That ’e…somehow managed to find Padgett and convince ’er to work with ’im?”

  “Well…they are related. I don’t know how he might have found her, but it makes sense. Especially if he’s working with Richter. It wouldn’t have been that hard to test Padgett for magical potential if they were specifically looking for it.”

  “I suppose not. I don’t mind sayin’ it’s got a lot of ’oles in it, though. You’re makin’ a lot of assumptions.”

  “I know. I get that. But can you look into it for me? See if it’s possible for an echo to survive after getting kicked out of a body. Has there been any precedent for it?”

  “Sure, yeah. That’s gonna take some diggin’, though. I’ve never heard of such a thing. Echoes aren’t known for possessin’ things, in general. But then, mage echoes are a different story to mundane ones. It’s a good thing they’re so rare, because they can get fairly powerful. It’s also a good thing Ward and I finished up our little project for Yarborough. He was gettin’ a bit shirty that we’ve been pushin’ ’im off.”

  “Thanks, Eddie. I’ve got to go—something else has turned up that I’ve got to deal with. Another one of the ghouls has disappeared. This time, it’s the friend I’ve been working with.”

  “Damn. I’m sorry, Stone.”

  “Just find this information for me, all right? It might mean the difference between finding them in time and…not finding them in time.”

  Ian was still asleep, so Stone left him a note and headed for Kolinsky’s shop. As soon as he arrived, though, he discovered the dragon wasn’t going to be any help this time. He’d left a note on the door behind the wards: I am away and out of communication for the remainder of this week. Please do not contact me except in case of dire emergency.

  Once again, Stone knew the note had been left for him, and it wasn’t hard to read between the lines: Leave me be, Stone, unless the world’s ending.

  He sighed. Apparently Kolinsky hadn’t come up with anything for him. As important as this problem was to him, it didn’t reach “dire emergency” status. Kolinsky already knew about the necromancy, but had all but told him he wasn’t willing to interfere directly with whatever Richter was doing.

  Ah, well. Eddie and Ward will come up with something. He hoped his friends were up to the task, because he was running out of options.

  On a whim, he stopped by Madame Huan’s shop, but it was closed. Even if it was too early for it to be open, though, he suspected he’d get one of two responses from her: either she’d be completely out of communication, or she’d echo Kolinsky’s words that she couldn’t—or wouldn’t—get involved.

  Dragons. Already he was learning they could be frustrating. All that power and knowledge, but their hands-off stance meant it wasn’t easy to make use of it, especially when scions were involved.

  On his way back home, Verity texted. Hey, Doc, you around?

  He immediately called her back. “Out doing a few errands. Driving back now. What’s up?”

  “Wow, you are awake. I’m surprised. I guess I shouldn’t be, though. Still working through all this stuff?”

  “Yes, and not getting very far. Didn’t get much sleep. Have you got anything new?”

  “Not yet. I just wanted to tell you…I told Tani and Maisie that Frank’s disappeared. I hope you don’t mind. I figured they’d want to know.”

  “No, no, it’s fine. Of course they’d want to know. What did they say?”

  “Not much. But they wanted me to tell you—if you find who’s behind this and you want to go after them, they want in too.”

  Stone frowned. Between Ian, Verity, Jason, Ian, and now Maisie and Tani, he was amassing a small army of potential helpers. And that assumed Eddie and Ward didn’t want to go along for the ride. “I haven’t got anything for them to do.”

  “Not yet. But eventually you’re gonna find Richter, and Chelth
am…and maybe even Brathwaite. You’re gonna need help, Doc. You can’t do this one all by yourself.”

  She was right, of course. He was good, but the idea of going against potentially three powerful mages—possibly more—along with their undead minions on his own was pure folly. And don’t forget good old magic-immune Lane, he added grimly. If Richter had found more like him, that would make the fight even tougher.

  “I promise, Verity—when I work out where they are, you’ll all have a chance to get your pound of flesh.” He realized what he’d said and winced. “Er…so to speak.”

  “Yeah. Okay. We’re gonna hold you to that. Let us know if there’s anything we can do in the meantime.”

  He called Laura Grider when he got home. Ian was up by then, lounging in front of the TV in the living room with Raider. Stone waved to him and headed to his study to make the call.

  “I don’t have anything else to tell you, Dr. Stone,” Laura said. “I haven’t heard from him, or anyone else. He’s just…gone.”

  The despair in her voice sliced through him. She’d already watched her previous husband die in a horrific ghoul attack, and now it looked like she might lose this one as well.

  “I’m working on this, Laura, I promise. I’m not sure there’s much point in my coming to you right now—I’m sure if they’ve got him he’ll be under magical protection, so my tracking spell won’t work. But I’ve got a couple other promising angles to investigate here. I’m giving this my top priority.”

  She sighed. “That’s all I can ask. Thank you so much—you’ve already been such a help.” In the background, Pepper barked sharply. If she was staying with a friend, she must have taken the dog with her.

  “You be careful, Laura. And if you see or hear anything unusual—anything at all—please let me know right away.”

  “I will. I just…don’t know what else to do. Frank spent all those years on the police force, helping other people, and now he’s missing and I can’t even call them to help us. Just sitting here is driving me crazy, Dr. Stone.”

  “I know. But it’s the safest thing to do. Please trust me. I’ll do everything I can to bring Frank home to you.” The image of Chris Belmont’s headless body rose once again in his mind’s eye, and Stone bowed his head. He hoped he could keep that promise.

  The rest of the day passed with a frustrating lack of information. Stone had to go to the University to meet with Martinez; he’d liked to have blown off the meeting, but with classes starting next week, he couldn’t justify it.

  Before he left, he found Ian in the living room. “Listen,” he said, “there’s no point in you hanging about here being bored. As long as we haven’t got anything else to go on, nothing much is going to happen. You might as well go about your business until we’ve got something.”

  Ian looked guilty, but it was obvious he was thinking along the same lines. “You sure? I could stick around if you want me to.”

  Stone waved him off. “No, go on. But please stay reachable and stay near a portal. It’s been my experience that when things start happening with situations like this, they happen fast.”

  “Yeah, I believe that. Okay, then. I’ve got a few things I could be working on, and there’s a party in Paris I wanted to meet some friends at. But seriously, Dad—this is my top priority. If there’s anything I can do to help, just call or text and I’ll drop everything and come back.”

  Stone smiled. “Good man. Thank you, Ian. I appreciate it.”

  “Dad?”

  He’d been turning away, but something in Ian’s voice stopped him. “What is it?”

  “Did you talk to Aubrey yet?”

  “I…did.”

  “What did he say? Was he pissed that I told you?”

  “No.” Stone spoke gently. “No, he wasn’t angry. He said he was surprised you’d waited this long.”

  Ian let his breath out in relief. “So…did he tell you what’s wrong?”

  Stone inclined his head.

  “And…is he okay?”

  “Depends on how you define ‘okay.’” Stone sighed. “He’s not dying or anything. Not anytime soon, anyway.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  The genuine concern in his son’s voice warmed Stone. Occasionally, he’d worried about Ian’s hedonistic ways, fearing they indicated a man who cared only about his own pleasure. But Ian was surprising him more every time they got together. He thought of that old song from The Who, “The Kids Are Alright.” Apparently, the kids—or at least this one—were indeed alright.

  “It means,” he said, “that yes, he’s dealing with some health issues, and they’re serious. But he’s assured me he’s getting them looked after, and his new lady friend is making sure he does.” He shrugged and looked away. “What else can I do, Ian? I offered to find him the best doctors on the planet, but he told me he was happy with things as they are. I can’t force him.”

  “But you want to, don’t you?”

  Stone was surprised at the compassion in his son’s tone. Ian got it. “I…do,” he admitted grudgingly. “Part of me does, yes. I want to find the best mundane doctors and the best magical minds and pay them whatever it costs to find the solution. But…”

  “But?”

  “But…” He spread his hands. “That’s not for me to do, is it? As much as I want to do it, I can’t make him go along with it. I haven’t got that right.” He gave a wry chuckle. “And like he said—he’s not going anywhere anytime soon. Medical science is bloody brilliant these days. He could get hit by a bus before things progressed far enough along to kill him.”

  Ian’s gaze settled on him, and he couldn’t tell if his son was scanning him with magical sight.

  “Okay,” Ian finally said. “Thanks for telling me.”

  “Thank you for telling me.” A twinge of guilt—not the first one, either—rippled through Stone. Had Aubrey shown these symptoms previously, and he hadn’t noticed? Had he been so involved in his own problems, and his own life, that he’d taken the caretaker for granted, assuming he’d always be there with a kind of immortality of his own? He honestly didn’t know, and that made him feel even more guilty.

  “Anyway, I’m off to my meeting. I’ll be in touch if anything happens—and please let me know if anything occurs to you. Or if you talk to Gabriel and he has any ideas.”

  “That’s not too likely—at least not for a while. But I’ll tell you if I think of anything.”

  28

  Ian was gone when Stone returned home two hours later, leaving the house strangely quiet. Even Raider had made himself scarce. A glance into the kitchen explained why: Ian had fed him before he left.

  Stone dropped the bag of takeout he’d picked up from the Dragon Garden on the breakfast bar and contemplated it. Now that he’d got it home, he wasn’t sure he was hungry enough to eat it.

  His mind refused to stop spinning. He was still convinced there was some piece of this puzzle he was missing, and nothing would come together until he worked it out. Even though he was certain now that necromancer Miriam Cheltham and frumpy shopgirl Miriam Padgett were inexplicably the same person and that Elias Richter was involved in this mess somewhere, he still couldn’t quite bring himself to believe the ghost of long-dead James Brathwaite had managed to not only survive being kicked out of his body, but also to locate his distant descendant and teach her the family trade in a little over a year. Even if Richter had tracked her down and put the two in touch, that still meant Brathwaite must have somehow found Richter. Stone didn’t know how old Richter was, but he was fairly sure the man hadn’t been around since Brathwaite was alive.

  He considered throwing himself on the couch and turning something mindless on the TV, as Ian had done earlier. Maybe it would help his mind quiet down, or maybe he’d finally fall asleep for a while.

  Instead, he decided to go for a run. He’d been so busy lately he hadn’t had much time to do it, but it was one of his most reliable ways to sort out his clamoring thoughts. Plus, it would be bet
ter to get some exercise than to turn into a couch potato. He needed to get back on a regular gym schedule, which would be easier once he was back at the University.

  He stashed the takeout in the refrigerator and hurried upstairs to change into his running gear. When he exited his bedroom he found Raider waiting for him at the top of the stairs, watching him with his wide-eyed green gaze.

  He crouched to pet the cat. “What do you think, mate? Any insights?”

  Raider licked his paw and purred.

  “Well, that’s about as good as I’ve got at the moment, so I’ll take it.” Amused, he remembered Verity’s joking speculation about Brathwaite possessing Miriam Padgett’s cat—assuming she even had one—and wondered briefly if it was possible. Professor Benchley had done it, after all, and he was a mere mundane. What if—

  “Don’t be daft,” he said aloud. Even if something like that were possible, there was no way Brathwaite, in the body of a cat, could have taught Padgett enough necromantic skills to raise a dead mage into a semi-volitional minion in less than a year. They’d need a time machine for that—or a jaunt to another dimension. But as far as Stone knew, time travel wasn’t among even the dragons’ capabilities, let alone normal human mages. And as for other dimensions, he supposed it was possible they’d found another place like Calanar where time ran differently, but considering that without any further evidence was ridiculous. Richter was good, but Stone didn’t think he was that good.

  “Stop it,” he muttered. If he was having thoughts like that, it was time to get out and burn off some energy.

  The early-September evening was warm but not too hot, the sun only barely beginning its descent. Stone enjoyed running in Encantada even more than when he’d lived in Palo Alto; the tiny town’s winding streets were all lined with mature trees, most of the shoulders were dirt, and there was almost never any traffic to watch out for.