Game of Stone: A Novel in the Alastair Stone Chronicles

by R. L. King

  Greta made another contemptuous snort. “Yeah, right.”

  Stone was about to snap a reply when he glanced down again at the figurine. “Turn right. It seems to be angling toward the east.” Without waiting for an answer, he called Verity again and relayed the information.

  “East? You mean like toward the wharf?”

  “Possibly. Impossible to tell this early. Why? Have you got something?”

  “Maybe.” Hang on a sec.” Stone heard the rustling of paper, then: “There’s a remembrance thing for fallen soldiers at Embarcadero Plaza this evening. It’s already started, though.”

  “Why would she attack mourners, though? That doesn’t—”

  “Some Army guys will be there too, speaking. Including a pretty big-deal general, from the look of it. And—oh, shit, the mayor’s gonna be there too.”

  Stone tensed. “That definitely sounds plausible, since she’s got issues with the military and politicians. Still can’t be sure yet, though. Where are you? We’re heading north up Powell—just turned right on California.”

  “We’re a little further out than that—stopping at Iris’s place took some time.”

  “All right—let’s assume we’re headed for the plaza until this little kitty tells us otherwise.”

  “Doc—shouldn’t we call somebody? If she’s gonna shoot somebody at that rally—”

  “Not yet. We don’t know it’s there yet.” He glanced at Greta. “If I can find her and get that piece away from her, she’ll be fine and no one will have to know.”

  There was a long silence. “Okay,” she said finally, sounding reluctant. “We’ll keep going.”

  Traffic improved for a while, but as they drew closer to the Embarcadero it slowed from a moderate crawl to a standstill. Stone watched the thread from the figurine closely; about the time they crossed Montgomery Street, it had settled into a straight line. Ominously, though, it pointed not straight in front of them, but upward. “What’s near the Plaza?” he asked Greta.

  “Huh?”

  “What’s near it? This reading is…odd.”

  “Odd like how?”

  “It’s pointing up, at an angle.”

  In the dim light inside the car, Greta paled visibly. “There’s at least one big hotel over there, and some high-rise office buildings.”

  “Oh, bloody hell...of course. She’s a sniper. She’ll want to get up high for a good view.”

  “How’s she gonna do that, though? If she tries to go in with a rifle, they’ll spot her.”

  “Not necessarily. That’s part of the magic—it could be concealing her, or giving her extra abilities to elude observers. She—”

  At that moment, a horn blared in front of them, followed by the metal-on-metal crash of a car hitting another one. Greta quickly hit the brakes, jolting them forward against their seatbelts, and swore.

  Stone craned his neck to see what was going on up ahead, his normal vision still a bit dazzled by the figure’s glow in magical sight. “What?”

  “Some moron tried to run a red and got hit. Fuck!” She slammed her hand down hard on the steering wheel. “It’s gonna take an hour to get through here now.” She gripped the wheel and glared daggers at the cars in front of them.

  Stone’s heart pounded. He was fairly sure now that Verity had been right about the location. And if the rally had already begun, they wouldn’t have much time.

  “Listen,” he said to Greta, “I need to go.”

  “Go? What do you mean, go?”

  “You’re right—we’ll never get there in time in the car. Find a place to park and get over there as fast as you can. I’ll go on ahead.”

  Her eyes blazed. “The hell you will! You can’t just—”

  “I haven’t time to argue with you,” he snapped. “I can do things you can’t—you can’t track her, and if she’s on the top of one of those buildings, there’s no way you’ll get there in time. Do you want to find her before she kills someone, or not? If you do, you’ll have to trust me.”

  Greta looked like if she had some gravel to chew on, she’d be doing it. “Fuck,” she muttered. “Yeah. Fine. Go.”

  He was already opening the door. “I’ll call Verity and let her know what’s going on. If you can, call the others.” He turned back around just before he shut the door. “And don’t get the bloody thing towed, all right?”

  “No promises,” she called as the door slammed shut.

  Stone took off at a fast jog in the direction of the Embarcadero. He was right—he could definitely move faster on foot. As he went, he pulled his phone out again. The battery was getting low—he hoped this was the right place, or they’d soon be out of communication. Encouragingly, the thread from the figurine continued to point in the right direction, angling upward at a steeper incline as he went.

  He called Verity again. “I think you were right about the location. We think she’s heading for the top of one of the buildings across the street from the plaza. Not sure which one yet. She may already be there. How’s your progress?”

  “We’re closer. Kyla drives like a—well, like you—but it’s getting us there faster.”

  “Good. Avoid California and Battery—there’s an accident there, and you won’t get anywhere.”

  Muffled voices as Verity relayed the information. “Okay. We’ll be there soon.”

  “I’m on foot now—don’t know how much longer this thing’s battery will last. I’ll try to let you know if I figure out which building it is.”

  “Hurry, Doc.”

  Stone stuffed the phone back in his pocket and picked up his pace, deftly dodging increasingly large groups of pedestrians as he got closer to the Embarcadero. Each time he reached an intersection and had to wait for a light, he checked the figurine again. Encouragingly, it still pointed in the same direction. This had to be the right place.

  That didn’t mean he’d find Iris before she shot somebody, though. He glanced at his watch: almost six-thirty. He didn’t know how much longer it would be before the mayor and the general showed up.

  He stopped again at Drumm Street, the last one before he’d reach the Embarcadero. Directly across the street, the tall form of a building—some hotel, but Stone wasn’t sure which one—rose, and off to his left was the even taller form of one of Embarcadero Center’s office buildings. He checked the figure again. The thread pointed up at a steep angle now, directly toward the hotel building.

  Stone hesitated, heart pounding with sudden frustration and indecision. If Iris killed the Mayor or the general and he hadn’t warned anyone, it would be his fault. He didn’t want to get the innocent woman arrested for something she had no control over, but he also didn’t want any other deaths on his conscience.

  He wrenched out his phone and stared at it for a moment, thinking. He couldn’t wait long—if he didn’t move soon, time would take the decision out of his hands.

  The light changed, and a knot of tourists shoved past him. He let himself be borne along with them, and was halfway across when an idea hit him. He picked up speed again and stopped on the other side, already hitting the familiar button.

  The detective answered quickly. “Yeah, Blum.”

  “Blum—Stone. Listen, I need you to do something for me.”

  “What’s up, Stone?”

  “Another one of the pieces has activated, and I know what’s going to happen.”

  “Holy shit!” The sound of furniture scraping was quickly followed by the slam of a door, and the background got more quiet. “What’s happening?”

  “It’s at the Embarcadero Plaza. Do you know about some kind of remembrance thing for soldiers?”

  “Yeah. Shit, isn’t the mayor gonna be there?”

  “Yes, and I think he might be the target. Either him or some general who’s going to be speaking. I need you to get hold of the organizers and make sure they don’t speak. Tell them to discreetly get the two of them out of the area.”

  “Stone, you know more than you’re telling me. Come
on—spill.”

  “Tell them it was an anonymous tip. The shooter will be somewhere in the crowd.”

  “Wait—shooter? What about the rest of the people there? Do you know who this shooter is?”

  Stone paused. “Detective—remember what I told you about the figurines? They take control of people and force them to do things. This person is an innocent. They would never do this if they weren’t under the thing’s control.”

  “So you’re sayin’ you’re not gonna tell me who it is.”

  “Right. Trust me, Detective: if you get those two away from there—discreetly—I can take care of the shooter without any bloodshed, and there won’t be a threat any longer. No one else is in danger.” Damn, I hope I’m right.

  “Wait—you’re here? In the City?”

  “Yes. I’m not far from the plaza now. Listen, Detective—my phone battery is dying, so I can’t talk long. Please—just do whatever you need to do to prevent the mayor and the general from speaking. Get them away from there. If you want to evacuate the whole thing and can do it without causing a panic or a riot, do it. But I’ve got this in hand.”

  “Stone—”

  “Got to go, Detective.” He hung up. If Greta and the others wanted to go after him when this was over, they’d just have to try it.

  He stood on the sidewalk alongside the hotel now, and the thread pointed nearly straight up. The phone only had one segment of battery left, and it was flashing—he might get one more call if he was lucky. He punched Verity’s number.

  When she answered, he talked fast. “Verity—I’m on the east side of the hotel. Iris is on top, so I’m going up. Are you almost here?”

  “Yeah.” She sounded a little out of breath. “We double-parked and we’re running now. About a block away.”

  “Good. I can’t wait, but get up there if you can. Bring Lara with you. I’m not sure how strong the magic will be to prevent me from getting near her. The figurine might protect itself. Someone she cares about might be able to help. Oh—and avoid the plaza. Don’t tell the others, but I called Blum. They’ll be looking for a shooter in the crowd, not on top of a building.”

  “Yeah.” She sounded relieved.

  “Get up there as fast as you can.”

  She didn’t answer.

  “Verity?” He looked at the phone—the display was blank. The battery had finally given out. He was on his own.

  All around him, crowds of tourists swirled past. If he tried to levitate to the top from here, even with the disregarding spell up, someone would spot him. Twenty stories was a long way and would require a fair bit of energy to keep two spells going, but fortunately for him he had the energy, freshly taken from the rapist a few days ago.

  He ducked around the side of the building and into an alcove with a maintenance door. Checking the figurine one last time—it now pointed straight up and slightly west—he cast the disregarding spell, followed by levitation, and lifted off the ground. At least he didn’t need to use invisibility—he was concealed enough here that he probably wouldn’t be noticed even if he took no precautions, but he couldn’t risk any of the crowd spotting him.

  Even with his newfound power, the trip up wasn’t pleasant. It was cold, to start with—a chilly breeze blew in from the harbor, whipping his coat and hair. He kept a tight grip on the figurine and fixed his gaze upward on his target. He wished he could go faster, but the levitation spell wasn’t meant to substitute for actual flight. By the time he reached the top of the building, nearly five minutes had passed and he was puffing with exertion.

  He dropped silently down, hiding behind a massive air-conditioner enclosure to get his breath back, switched back to magical sight, and took a look around. No auras appeared behind him, which didn’t surprise him—Verity and Lara, if they were going to get up here at all, couldn’t have beaten him here.

  In front of him, in the direction of the Embarcadero, the thread from the figurine, blazing white and as thick as a child’s finger, pointed directly toward the leading edge of the building.

  Exactly where a sniper would have to set up to get a good angle on the plaza below.

  Stone pulled up the disregarding spell again and started walking. He had no idea if the black figurine would sense its counterpart and take action, but the precaution was an easy one to take. The roof was dotted with enclosures of various sizes, affording many opportunities for cover.

  He didn’t spot her until he’d made it nearly the whole way across the roof. He moved slowly to keep his footsteps silent, but though the thread continued pointing unerringly in the same direction, he couldn’t see Iris’s aura. That was odd—it should have been glowing brightly. The rapist’s aura hadn’t been hidden.

  They’re getting harder to counteract.

  Pulling a shield around him, he crept closer. He didn’t know much about how snipers operated, but he did know that at this distance Iris would need careful aim and focused concentration to hit her target. He hoped Blum was able to get the general and the mayor out of the way, and that he was right about there being no other targets.

  When he got about fifteen feet away from her, he stopped. “Iris!” he called, projecting over the wind but keeping his tone even and calm. “It’s over! You don’t want to do this.”

  The crouched figure jerked as if struck. She’d been lying prone, a long rifle set up on a tripod and pointed out toward the Embarcadero. Moving faster than Stone thought possible, she flung herself sideways with the rifle and took cover behind another AC enclosure.

  “Get away from me!” she yelled. Her voice sounded confident. “You aren’t gonna stop me!”

  “I already have, Iris,” he said. He edged forward. “I know who you’re after, and they’re already gone. You don’t want to kill anyone else, do you?”

  “What do you mean, they’re gone?”

  He couldn’t see her now; she had full cover behind the enclosure. “The mayor and the general aren’t here. I’m not sure which was your target—or perhaps both—but it doesn’t matter. I’ve warned the police, and they’ve taken them away. You won’t get your shot, Iris. Listen to me—I know why you’re doing this. It’s that figurine you bought at the Wharf. The black one.”

  “You’re crazy! I don’t know who you are, but get the hell out of here before I blow your head off!”

  “You aren’t going to do that, Iris. That’s not in your programming. This thing is controlling your mind. You know about the Harpies, right? What they do?”

  “What about the Harpies?”

  “Your cousin, Lara, is very worried about you. She’s on her way here now.”

  There was a pause. “Here?”

  “Yes. She’s on her way up here now. She’s worried, Iris. She doesn’t want you to go to prison for something that isn’t your fault. I don’t either. Just put the gun down and come out.”

  “Who the hell are you?”

  “My name is Alastair Stone. I’m a friend of the Harpies’.” Not so sure how true that is, but let’s go with it for now. “Come on, Iris. All you have to do is put the gun down and give me the figurine.”

  “I knew you were coming…I felt you.” Her tone took on a confused edge. “I…felt you coming. But how did you get up here?”

  Ah, another piece of the puzzle fell into place. The black piece knew when the white one was getting close, too. The rapist probably hadn’t fled because he thought he had time to finish what he was doing, and Iris didn’t think anyone could reach her on the top of a twenty-story building before she got her shot off. “Do you know about magic, Iris?”

  “…Magic?” She sounded even more confused.

  Perhaps Lara and the others hadn’t let her in on the Harpies’ secret, despite how close the two cousins apparently were. But if Stone could kill time until Lara and Verity got here, maybe hearing a familiar, friendly voice might make it easier to handle this situation.

  “Iris, listen to me: you had a target. Something was telling you to kill someone. Right?”

>   “I have to kill him,” she called. She didn’t sound confused now. “He has to die.”

  “Who does? The mayor, or the general?”

  “The mayor. He’s corrupt. He doesn’t care about anybody but himself and his cronies. You fucking men are all alike!”

  “Do you really think you’re going to get away with it, Iris? Because I’ll tell you what’s going to happen if you kill him. As soon as you do, your black figurine is going to crack, and all the magic will leave it. It will desert you, and you’ll be left with the knowledge that you murdered an innocent man. You’ll go to prison for life, Iris—you might even get the death penalty. Your life will be over. Do you think anyone will believe you, that you didn’t mean to do it?”

  “I do mean to do it!” she yelled. “He has to die! You’ve ruined everything!”

  Cat-quick, she appeared around the edge of the enclosure. Stone only got a split-second view of her—holding not the rifle, but a handgun—before she fired at him.

  43

  The bullet slammed into Stone’s shield. It flared momentarily pink, then settled back to its normal near-invisibility.

  Bloody hell, she’s shooting at me!

  “Iris!” he shouted. “Stop it, now. Killing me won’t solve anything, and if anyone hears you shooting up here, I won’t be able to help you!”

  “Get out of here! You’ve fucked everything up!” She disappeared behind the enclosure again, but didn’t fire a second shot.

  He spared a quick glance with magical sight behind him. Two figures were approaching, picking their way with careful steps across the roof. He tensed until he got a better look at the auras. One was Verity’s familiar green. The other one had to be Lara.

  He backed off, keeping his shield up and his eyes on Iris’s cover. When he was sure they’d spotted him, he motioned them over behind another enclosure. Iris wouldn’t be able to get away without going past them—not unless she’d brought rappelling gear, anyway.

  “What’s going on?” Verity demanded, breathless. “Did you find her?”

  Stone pointed. “She’s up there.”