by R. L. King
He didn’t pass out.
For a moment, he thought his shield had done its job, protecting him from the chunks crashing down on top of him—but then, as he tentatively rose from his knees and summoned a light spell, he realized what must have happened.
He couldn’t make out much. The dust was thick in the air, so thick he could barely see, and coughing fits wracked him. But there were no chunks of concrete around him.
He just brought it down over the door, to prevent them from leaving.
Oh, gods, did they get out?
Are they safe?
He spun around, still coughing, trying to penetrate the dust and the darkness with his feeble light spell, but there was no chance.
Either they’d gotten out, or they hadn’t.
He staggered around, trying to hold his breath, directing the light down toward his feet. Disoriented, he had no idea where the other doors were, or even if they were still functional, but he did find grim reminders that not everybody had gained their freedom: the two mages lay sprawled and bloody, their bodies broken by the fallen chunks of concrete. He found pieces of at least two of the zombies, and a tanned arm clad in a pink sleeve protruding from a larger section.
So Lane wouldn’t have made it out even if Tani hadn’t pulled his head from his body.
No great loss there.
He coughed again, his eyes streaming with the dust. He was beginning to feel woozy. If he remained here much longer, breathing this toxic dust, he’d pass out.
He’d either die…
…or perhaps worse, he wouldn’t.
It was hard to concentrate, but he had to. He pictured the mall’s parking lot, outside the stores, not trusting himself to try for something indoors. Once again, he’d only have one shot at this.
Please let them be alive…
He focused on the pattern, held his breath to keep from coughing, and released the energy.
A moment of disorientation, a brief glimpse of overcast sunlight, and then he was falling.
That time, he did pass out.
36
“Doc?”
“Dad!”
The voices were all around him.
Somebody was shaking him, hard, and all he wanted to do was roll away from them.
Instead, he opened his eyes.
Figures loomed all around him. At first, he couldn’t make out who they were, his eyes still full of the dust from the collapse. But then he blinked a few times, swiping his arm across his face.
They were all there. Jason. Amber. Verity. Ian. Tani.
And two other figures.
He jerked up, eyes wide. “Grider? Lu?”
“Hey,” Verity said, gripping his shoulders. “Lay back down. We don’t know if you’re hurt.”
He shook free, coughing again. “I’m all right.” And he was—aside from a few bruises and a whopper of a headache from channeling all that magic and breathing all that dust, nothing else seemed to be seriously amiss. He grinned up at all of them. “You made it. You got out. Thank the gods…” His voice trailed off into more coughs.
“Yeah. Thanks to you.” Ian’s voice was rough. “That was a damn stupid thing you did, Dad.”
“Yes, well, that’s sort of my specialty, isn’t it?”
He looked around. He was sitting in the middle of the parking lot behind the mall’s center anchor store. From here, he saw no sign of any of the carnage that had occurred inside. “The mall didn’t collapse, I see.”
“No. I think it was just the part above the door. I think they had something rigged to block the exit.” Jason looked grim. “How the hell did you get out, Al?”
“Other door.” Stone waved him off, still looking at Grider and Lu in astonishment. “Where did you find these two?”
“They had us locked up in a couple offices on the other side,” Grider said. Like Lu, he looked tired and dusty, but otherwise unhurt.
“It’s good to see you, Dr. Lu.” Stone didn’t try to get up yet—no point pushing things. He narrowed his eyes. “Have they been…feeding you?”
The doctor nodded wearily. “Yes. They were stealing my blood and other bits to use for some sort of ritual, so they had to keep me docile. They threatened to reveal the colony’s existence if I didn’t cooperate.”
“Yeah,” Grider said. “Damn, Stone, but it’s good to see you guys. They told me they’d kill Laura if I didn’t go along with them. They needed more blood, I guess.” He frowned. “What happened? Is it over?”
Stone thought back to the end of the ritual. He hadn’t destroyed it, that much he knew. Something had gone wrong before he’d unleashed his power. “I think so.”
“Are they dead?” Ian asked. “Brathwaite and Richter?”
“I…don’t know. They were trying to escape, but I couldn’t go after them.”
“Why not?” Verity demanded. “You let them go?”
He met her gaze. “I had to make a choice,” he said gently. “If I’d gone after them, I might have caught them—but not without risking letting you all die. That wasn’t a choice at all.”
Amber bowed her head. “Yeah,” she muttered. “Maybe they died too.”
“Maybe they did,” Stone said. “I wouldn’t count on it, though.”
“So…what now?” Jason asked.
Stone took a few deep breaths. At least he wasn’t coughing anymore. He looked up at Tani, who was once again wearing her Harpies jacket. “Did you…go back in and find Maisie?”
“Yeah.” Her voice was rough, and tears glittered in her eyes. “She’s in the van. Wrapped up. We’ve got to take her back and bury her.”
“We’ll take care of that,” Orville Lu said. “She was one of us. She deserves to be honored.”
Tani nodded. “At least that blond bastard who killed her is dead.”
Stone slowly got to his feet, taking a hand up from Ian. He thought about what had just happened. Lane was indeed dead—finally. That was something. Even if Richter and Brathwaite had made it out alive, they’d taken down one of their strongest lieutenants. And there was no guarantee either of them had survived. Richter definitely hadn’t looked well when Brathwaite had snatched him free of the ritual. He could still die.
One could hope, anyway.
But for now, his friends were alive. His son was alive. And they’d even managed to rescue Lu and Grider, both of whom he’d been certain were already dead.
Perhaps not the ideal outcome, but right now, he’d take it.
“Come on,” he said. “We’d best get out of here before someone spots us and calls the police. I don’t fancy dealing with more problems today.”
37
Three days later
It was a beautiful late-summer night, and Stone was walking.
The streets of Encantada were nearly deserted at nearly one-thirty a.m., most of the families tucked snugly into their beds and dreaming of things far more pleasant than those Stone and his friends had been dealing with.
He was walking because he couldn’t sleep. He’d tried, but succeeded only in tossing restlessly around and annoying Raider. He hadn’t felt up for a run; however, a walk had sounded like just the thing.
As he ambled along with no clear route, his thoughts drifted back over the last three days, which had passed in something of a blur. They had driven back to the colony—Lu and Grider had felt that, after everything the group had done for them, they no longer needed to hide its location from them. Lu had seen to Maisie, while the others returned to Grider’s place.
Laura had greeted them, sobbing, flinging her arms around her husband as an ecstatic Pepper danced around them, barking like mad.
“Thank you,” she’d told Stone, taking him aside. “Thank you for everything. Thank you for not giving up on us.” She didn’t hug him, but she looked like she wanted to.
“I’m glad we could help.” He dropped his gaze. “I only wish we could have saved Belmont and Maisie.”
She nodded soberly. “I know…but none of that was your
fault. You did more than we ever could have hoped.” Swallowing hard, she lowered her voice. “Do you think we’re safe? Do you think we need to move again?”
“I don’t know, Laura. I wish I could say I did. I don’t know if the people involved are dead—but I’d venture a guess that, even if they’re not, whatever they wanted to use your people for is finished, one way or another. And I don’t think the man in charge is the type to do something out of spite. He’s a fairly calculating sort.” He gave a faint, nasty grin. “Also, I don’t think he wants to deal with me again quite so soon. I have a way of stuffing up his plans.”
She didn’t look like his answer had comforted her, but she nodded again. “I guess we’ll have to see what happens. But we still owe all of you our gratitude. Will you stay? I’d at least like to give you all a home-cooked meal.”
As much as Stone knew the ghouls’ “home-cooked meals” didn’t involve anything untoward when they weren’t feeding their own colony, the thought nonetheless didn’t appeal to him. “Thank you,” he said gently. “I appreciate the offer, but I think we all need to be getting home. I’ve got to get back to work shortly, and the others have their lives to return to as well. Take care, all of you—and if Richter and his lot give you any more trouble, don’t hesitate to call me.”
They’d all returned to the Bay Area after that, with Stone taking Jason and Amber through the portal, and Verity taking Tani. After catching up with their various business, they’d met at Stone’s place earlier that evening for a true home-cooked meal (which Stone paid for and Verity and Ian prepared).
“So,” Stone had said, lounging in his chair with a glass of wine after they were all pleasantly full. “Looks like there’s no more ambiguity about your abilities, Jason. It seems I was right: adrenaline, or at least feeling your loved ones are in danger, brings them out.”
“Yeah.” Jason looked pleased with himself, albeit a little troubled. “It felt good holding my own in that fight. Lane was no lightweight. But I would have traded it in a second for Amber and V not being threatened.”
“We did all right.” Amber sat on the arm of the sofa next to him, her shoulder against his. “We’re a pretty good team, I’d say.”
“I’m still embarrassed he got me,” Verity said. “I could have hurt somebody. And I hated doing anything that asshole wanted.”
Ian shrugged. “I wouldn’t feel too bad about it. Those guys were good. Illusions are hard to crack—you know that. Especially when you’re not looking for them. But everything mostly turned out okay.”
“Mostly.” Verity bowed her head. “Except for Maisie.”
“Is Tani all right?” Stone asked. “How is she dealing with it? Anything we can do to help?”
“She’s…okay. She’s a strange person—doesn’t show much emotion, you know? But I think we’re getting closer now.” She offered a faint smile. “She likes you, Doc, that’s for sure.”
“Oh?”
She must have caught the slightly disturbed look on his face, because she chuckled. “Not like that, silly. I just mean she’s really grateful you helped her out. You’ve got yourself a good friend, I’ll tell you that. And I’m getting to know her better too. She’s actually pretty cool once you get past her initial strangeness.”
Stone nodded, taking another sip of his wine. He didn’t know what to say about that, but he supposed he could use all the friends he could get.
“Hey, Dad,” Ian spoke up. “I wanted to ask you something, but I forgot about it in the middle of all this.”
“What’s that?”
“You never did tell me how you got out of that cell without tripping the zombies.”
Stone tensed, careful to keep his aura under control. “It was a tricky illusion. I just created one to look like the door was closed, and another to make it look like I was still in the room.”
Ian’s gaze burned into him. Obviously, he didn’t believe what his father was saying, but finally he shrugged. “Okay. That was some damn good illusion work, then. And I know what I’m talking about—it’s turning out to be a specialty of mine.” He poured himself another glass of wine. “Too bad about your portal, though. Are you going to rebuild it?”
Stone shrugged. In all honesty, he didn’t know if he was. He didn’t need it anymore—but Ian still did. If he wanted to see his son more often, he’d either need to travel to him, or rebuild the portal, even though it wasn’t necessary.
Or talk Kolinsky or Gabriel into training him in ley-line travel.
“I don’t know,” he said at last. “I suppose I might at some point, but all that work took a lot of time and effort. Maybe I’ll take a rest for a while—you know, get back to easy stuff, like teaching university students.” He chuckled. “Sorry, Ian—I guess you’ll just have to put up with the curry for a while longer.”
“Or whatever it ends up being if Marta decides to leave,” Verity said.
Stone had forgotten about that too. “I guess we’ll have to deal with that if it happens. For now, I’m just glad this whole mess is over, at least for a while.”
They’d stayed another hour after that, eventually drifting out in singles and pairs until only Ian remained. “Are you staying?” Stone asked him. “Or have you got more parties to attend?”
“I need to get going. Gabriel’s back in a couple weeks, and I’m behind on some of the things he wanted me to finish before he gets back.” He grinned. “Also, there are a couple of parties I’ve been looking forward to. You can come with me, if you want. You’re not exactly old, and the music will be great.”
“I don’t think so.” Stone gave him a fond smile. “You go on—have fun. But do come home for the holidays, will you?”
“I wouldn’t miss it. I promise.” He paused, then turned back to face Stone. “You weren’t telling the truth about getting out of that cell—and out of the mall. Were you?”
“No.”
Ian’s brow furrowed. “Why won’t you tell me?”
“Because it’s not something I can reveal. Not yet, anyway.”
His son studied him. “You know I’m going to ask Gabriel about it.”
Stone smiled. “I hope you do. Maybe he’ll give you a better answer than I can.”
Now, a couple miles from home, Stone paused, watching a single truck rumble by on the narrow, tree-lined street leading back toward his house. He should pick up his pace—perhaps a hot cup of tea might quiet his thoughts enough to let him get some sleep.
As he began moving again, though, another thought lodged in his brain and refused to leave. The scene played out almost as if he were watching it on a cinema screen.
Back at Grider’s house, while everyone else was chatting in the living room and taking turns feeding bits of deli meat to the exuberant Jack, Orville Lu had taken Stone aside, leading him out to the backyard.
“I wanted to tell you something,” he said. “Something I don’t think you knew.”
“What’s that?” Stone looked Lu over. He still looked similar to the man he remembered from ten years ago: middle-aged, elegantly but casually dressed, perhaps a little thinner and with a few more lines on his face. His dark eyes, however, were as sharp as ever.
Lu stared out over the trees in the yard. “I was held prisoner for quite some time. I think they stopped caring that I was there—probably because they planned to kill me eventually, like they did with Chris, and they knew if I tried anything, I risked putting the colony in danger.”
Stone nodded, waiting.
“Sometimes I heard them talk—Richter and that woman. And at one point I heard Richter talking to someone on the phone.”
“What did they talk about?”
Lu took a deep breath. “I think something was wrong with him, Dr. Stone.”
“Wrong?” Stone tilted his head. “With Richter? What do you mean?”
“Of course you remember I’m a physician.”
“Of course.”
“Well…” Lu looked uncomfortable, almost as if reluctant to
discuss someone else’s business, even if that someone tried to drain his blood for a ritual and murder him. “I didn’t hear much, but a few of the terms I heard him using led me to believe that he might have been suffering from something that frightened him profoundly. He mentioned a couple of drugs…”
“Drugs? What kind of drugs?”
“The sort used to hold off certain forms of dementia.”
Stone went still, his mouth going dry. “You…think Richter was suffering from dementia?”
Lu shrugged. “I didn’t see any obvious signs when he was around me, so I could have been wrong. But I don’t think I was. During the early stages, there aren’t too many outward symptoms. But if you’re aware of your own capabilities, you might notice them beginning to slip.”
“So…” Stone spoke carefully. “You think whatever he was doing, he might have been trying to arrest that?”
“I don’t know. I’m a doctor, not a mage.” He chuckled, but it wasn’t a pleasant sound. “But I’ll tell you this—with current medical science, it’s not really possible to stave off most types of dementia. You can inhibit it for a while, mitigate the symptoms, but there’s no stopping it.”
“Current mundane medical science, anyway…” Stone stared off into the trees, pondering. “Well…thank you for telling me that, Dr. Lu. I’m not sure what I’ll do with it, if anything, but it’s another bit of information to store away.”
Now, as he picked up his pace a bit more against the faint chill of the evening air, Stone turned that conversation over in his head once more. Had that been what Richter had been trying to do? Not taking another futile stab at immortality, but trying to hold off the inevitable decay of his brilliant mind using any means he could conceive of?
He jammed his hands into his pockets, guilt rising as more thoughts flooded in. If it were true, could he blame Richter for trying everything he could think of to deal with it? Not the kidnapping, of course—and definitely not the murders. But if mundane medical science couldn’t do what he needed, could Stone blame him for turning to unconventional methods? To ghouls, whose regeneration abilities had saved Frank Grider from a terminal brain tumor? Even to necromancy, as a last resort?
