by R. L. King
Stone nodded. “You did, Brittany. Thank you so much, and I’m sorry we had to distress you so.” He used a spell to dry out the puddle of vomit, then gathered it as best he could without touching it and levitated the dust into the plastic trash can.
Brittany finished the water and opened her eyes, looking miserable. “Did I help? Did I give you the key?”
“You did help,” Stone said. “You don’t remember?”
“No…I was dreaming again, and then I barfed. The nurse will be pissed at me…”
“She won’t,” Stone said gently. “It was all a dream. Look for yourself.”
She peeked over the edge of the bed. “It’s—not there.”
“All a dream,” he said again. “Thank you, Brittany. We’ll clear out and leave you alone now, so you can go back to sleep.”
“I won’t go back to sleep…” she said in a shaky voice.
“I think I can help you with that,” Stone said. “Will you let me try? Then we’ll be off so you can rest.”
Brittany clearly didn’t have any fight left in her. “Whatever…” she whispered, and now it sounded more like resignation than teenage contrariness.
Stone moved in, taking Verity’s place as she stepped back. He put his hand on Brittany’s forehead and concentrated, weaving a wall around Brittany’s mind. Verity’s work would likely take care of anything inside her head, and his own would prevent all but the most powerful outside influences from affecting her. He still didn’t think whatever the thing was in the “buried building” had the punch to reach anyone sixty miles away, but they were here now and there was no point in taking chances.
“There…” He stepped back. “We’ll go now. Please don’t tell anyone we were here. It was all a dream. All right?”
Brittany didn’t answer. Her eyelids were already drooping, and when Stone looked at her aura, he was pleased to see it had mostly settled back to its normal pale orange.
Verity was already at the door, peeking through. “I don’t see anybody out there,” she whispered. “Let’s go before they decide to do another check. Did you get what you needed?”
“I think so. And we need to talk, but not here.”
He glanced at the sleeping Brittany again, using magic to flip off the nightstand lamp. Such a shame that she and the other students here, all “good kids” according to Dez Griffith, would have little chance seeing the outside world for a long time. Even if the authorities eventually determined that the murders were the result of temporary insanity, that still meant the best they could expect was to spend the prime years of their lives inside some drab mental-health facility. And all because they’d stumbled onto some powerful, long-buried magical force. It wasn’t fair.
Grimly, Stone shifted back to invisibility and followed Verity out of the room.
Unfortunately for those mundanes who got caught up in it, magic often wasn’t fair.
19
It was nearly three a.m. when Stone and Verity got back to Treadley. They’d made it out of Maple Ridge without anyone seeing them, both holding on to their tension until they were back in the car and several miles down the road. Stone expected that any minute he’d see the flashing red-and-blue lights of a state trooper cruiser pull onto the road behind him, but the more time that passed without any sign of one, the less nervous he got.
He had filled Verity in on how the conversation with Brittany had gone as they drove.
“What do you want to do next?” she asked him. “It sounds like we need to go back up there and try to find that building she was talking about, right?”
“Yes, exactly. I’d like to wait until we hear back from Eddie and Blodgett, but unless they call soon, we may not have time. I’ll give them both a call tomorrow morning.”
“You think this is a pretty big deal, don’t you?”
“I do, yes. Bigger than I feared, actually. I think we’re looking at a being, or force, of significant power.”
“Do you think the kids awakened it? Maybe Joe when he went off the path to use the bathroom?”
“I don’t know if they awakened it or if it was always out there, waiting for someone to come near it. It’s hard to believe that no one has approached it in all these years, though.”
“Maybe they did…or maybe the kids had something specific that it wanted. Or maybe the stars were aligned. I dunno. Who can tell with magic?”
Unfortunately, she was right. Even for those like Stone who had devoted their lives to its study, magic still held many secrets. While parts of it could be quantified like a science, other parts remained maddeningly inscrutable and unpredictable. It was the main reason why both Stone’s scientific approach to magic and the more organic style used by people like Verity’s old mentor Edna Soren were both equally valid and equally powerful ways of interacting with the unseen forces.
It did sometimes make those interactions frustrating, though, and this was one of those times.
“What do you think it wants?” Verity asked. “It seems odd to me that it would plant this suggestion in a bunch of kids’ heads to go back home and kill a lot of people. What could it gain by that? Especially if you’re right about it not being able to reach them from sixty miles away. It can’t be like the Evil, right—feeding on negative emotion or death energy? Not from that far away.”
“Your guess is as good as mine at this point. Perhaps the Ordo men have a better idea—we’ll have to see if Eddie and Ward can decipher their notes. But you’re right—it doesn’t make sense. Although I do wonder…” He frowned, tightening his hands on the wheel.
“What?”
“Well…I’m fairly certain this thing is very old—hundreds, if not thousands, of years old. And if it’s only recently been roused from a long slumber, it probably doesn’t have any idea how much the world has changed.”
“I’m not sure I follow.”
“Think about it—compared to the way things were in the past, our modern world has changed at an astonishing rate over the past hundred years or so. Air travel, the internet, television, instant mass communication—can you imagine what someone even two hundred years ago would have thought of any of those?”
“That’s a good point.”
“Let’s suppose for a moment that this thing has been out of communication for the last hundred or so years—probably longer than that. If someone did blunder into it and wake it up, and it did put the suggestion into their head that it might be nice to go back and murder a few people to generate power for it, that person probably wouldn’t have had to go far, right? People didn’t live that far apart back in those days. Towns were closer together, because you had to traverse them on foot, or in horse-drawn wagons. Hell, the twenty miles between Shawdale and Treadley would be at least a half day’s trip, right? And that’s not even a third of the distance between Treadley and that campground.”
Verity nodded. “So you’re saying this thing, whatever it is, didn’t realize the kids would be going that far away—so far that it can’t control them anymore, and it can’t access the energy from their murders?”
“I don’t know,” Stone said, shrugging. “It’s just a hypothesis, and frankly one that’s not backed up by much data, because we don’t have much data. I think the best thing we can do right now is get back to town, try to sleep for a few hours, and then see if Eddie or Blodgett can cast any light on this whole thing.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right. That session with Brittany tired me out quite a bit. I could really use a big, greasy burger right now.”
“Good luck trying to find anything open out here in small-town America. Would you settle for a desiccated convenience-store hot dog that’s been turning on one of those little spinners for several hours? I think I saw a 7-Eleven on the edge of town.”
She wrinkled her nose. “That actually sounds great. Which should tell you how hungry I am.”
They knew something was wrong as soon as they got close to the Schooner Inn.
“Is that a police car?” Ver
ity asked. The 7-Eleven hadn’t had any hot dogs, so she’d settled for a cinnamon roll as big as her hand. She stuffed the last of it in her mouth and washed it down with coffee as they turned the corner toward the inn.
“It is,” Stone said grimly. “And a fire truck past it.” A tingle of impending danger began a slow crawl up his neck. He pulled the car off the road a block short of the inn. “Come on—let’s see what’s going on.”
He half expected to see the inn gutted by fire, and was surprised and pleased that it wasn’t. But the wisps of smoke wafting up from the roof were at the same end of the structure as his and Verity’s room, which he was not pleased to see.
He strode up to the nearest police officer, wondering for a moment if Dez were here somewhere. “What’s going on?”
“Eh, there was a fire in there,” he said, pointing at the inn. “Little bit ago.”
“Was anyone hurt?”
“Not that we know of. A little smoke inhalation, but nothing life-threatening. If you’ll excuse me, sir, I need to—”
“We’re staying there, at the inn,” Stone said. “Are they letting anyone inside?”
“Not yet—not till they inspect the area, at least. Probably not even then, at that end. There’s gonna be smoke damage, water damage—”
Stone sighed. “Bloody hell,” he muttered to Verity as they headed off. “I’ll bet you a hundred dollars that fire was either centered in our room or the Ordo’s.”
“I won’t take that bet. C’mon—those guys over there look like employees. Let’s ask them.”
They passed a couple groups of displaced guests standing around with down coats thrown hastily over their pajamas, and approached three people dressed in uniforms, including what looked like the current desk clerk.
“What’s happened?” Stone asked them. “We’re guests here, and the officer said there was a fire.”
“There was,” the clerk said. “It was pretty minor, but they evacuated the whole side to be safe.”
“Do you have any idea how or where it got started?”
“They’re not sure yet, but they think it was a wiring issue. It was in one of the rooms on the second floor—the one at the far end, I think. Twenty-four.”
“Damn.” Stone flashed a frustrated I told you so glare at Verity. “That’s our room.”
The clerk winced. “I’m so sorry, sir. I’m afraid from what I hear, that room and the one next to it are total losses. But you can contact our insurance about your belongings. I’m sure they’ll reimburse you. I’m just glad you weren’t in there. The people in the other room had to go to the hospital. They got out, but they had some smoke inhalation.”
“Where are we supposed to stay?” Verity asked. “All our stuff was in there.”
The clerk sighed. “I know, and I am sorry. We’ll do everything we can to accommodate you, but with the holiday tomorrow, nothing’s going to be open. I’m afraid we don’t have any extra rooms—the police aren’t letting any of the other guests on that side of the building in either, unfortunately. That’s too bad, too, because we had a check-out earlier this evening.”
Stone had started to turn away, but at the clerk’s words he spun back around. “You did? Which room?”
“Sir, I don’t—”
“Which room?” he demanded.
Something about his intense expression must have frightened the young man, because he sputtered out, “Uh—twenty-nine. Just down the hall. They checked out around nine o’clock.”
Stone whirled and stalked off toward the car without another word to the bewildered clerk. “Wiring, my arse!” he snapped to Verity, who had to jog to keep up with his angry stride.
“Wait—that was the room the Ordo guys were in, wasn’t it?”
“Bloody right it was. I don’t know how they set that fire—probably sneaked into our room and set some delayed-action spell, or else they did it from across the street or something.”
“So you think they’re on to us? That they knew you were in their room?”
“Either that, or they finally figured out I’m in town. Those two tossers might not know who I am, but if this is the same Ordo as before, their leaders bloody well do.”
Verity shot him an arch smile as she climbed into the Ford. “Did you know you get more British when you’re pissed, Doc? Just an observation,” she added hastily when he glared at her. “So…what do we do now?”
He slammed the door shut and sat for a moment, fuming, gripping the wheel so tight his knuckles whitened. “Why would they do that? Were they afraid we’d get to something before they did? Did they somehow find out I was in their room?” He slammed his fist on the wheel. “I’ll bet it was that bloody clerk.”
“The guy back there?” Verity asked, confused.
“No. The one I bribed to tell me which room they were in. If I could get to her, they probably could too. The Ordo is nothing if not well funded—or at least it used to be. Anyway…” He let out a long sigh and smacked the wheel again. “We’re buggered. They’re gone now, and who knows where they are? And now we’ve got nothing left but the clothes we’re wearing. Don’t say I don’t know how to show you a good time.”
She put her hand over his. “It’s okay, Doc. We’ll figure something out. At least we didn’t leave anything valuable in the room. And if we have to spend two days in the same clothes, the world won’t come to an end. Hell, I do it all the time when I hang around the apartment.”
“It’s not the clothes I’m worried about. We’ve got nowhere to sleep. I don’t mind staying up for the rest of the night, but my phone’s almost dead and there’s nowhere to go around here. Even the bars are closed. Unless you want to loiter around the 7-Eleven for three or four hours—”
“You know, I hate to say this, but I think you know as well as I do what we need to do.”
And Stone did—he just didn’t want to do it. Dez Griffith had been so kind to him before, opening her home to him when he had nowhere else to go. She’d been so helpful by providing data about Maple Ridge that had made their excursion tonight a lot smoother than it might have been without it. But that didn’t mean he wanted to inconvenience her again by calling her at three in the morning, especially since her family had just returned home.
“She said to call if we needed anything,” Verity reminded him gently. “And I think this qualifies.”
He couldn’t argue with her about that. Their options at this point were, unfortunately, quite limited. Sighing, he pulled out his phone and punched her number, hoping Walt or one of the boys wouldn’t answer.
It picked up on the second ring. “Hello?”
Stone rubbed his forehead in relief. It was Dez, and she sounded worried. “Dez—it’s Alastair Stone. I’m terribly sorry to bother you at this ungodly hour—”
“What’s wrong?” He heard murmured conversation followed by rustling, and pictured her moving to another room where she could talk in private. “Are you all right? Did the trip you-know-where go wrong?”
“No—no, the trip went fine. We’ll tell you all about it. But we’re in a bit of difficulty. There’s been a fire at the Schooner Inn, and our room is uninhabitable.”
There was a pause while that sank in. “Oh, my God! Is anyone hurt? Are you and Verity all right?”
“We weren’t there when it happened—but we think we might be the cause of it. Kroyer and Lang checked out earlier this evening, and we think they might have broken into our room and set something up. The clerk I spoke with says they think it was wiring, but I don’t believe it for a second.”
“Wow…That’s terrible. Where are you now?”
“Sitting in our car, just up the street from the inn. I hate to impose again, but—”
“Get over here,” she said firmly. “How many times do I have to tell you, it’s not an imposition? Just come on over, and I’ll have some hot coffee ready for you when you get here.”
“Thank you so much. You don’t know how much we appreciate it. We’ll be there in a few
minutes.” He hung up, put the phone back in his pocket, and started the car.
“See?” Verity settled back and snapped her seatbelt on. “Told you. She’s good people. I can tell.”
“She is,” he agreed. “And she wants to get to the bottom of this mess as much as we do. Let’s get over there, and then we’ll figure out what to do next. I think our timetable just got moved up—if Lang and Kroyer are willing to risk getting caught for setting our room on fire—not to mention potentially killing quite a number of people—that might mean they’re on to something. And if that’s true, we’d best catch up fast.”
20
Dez was waiting for Stone and Verity when they arrived, and flung open the door the instant they rang the bell. “Come on in,” she ordered, shepherding the two of them down the hall toward the kitchen.
Stone glanced around, but saw no sign of Walt or the boys. “Did we manage to call without waking anyone else up?”
“No—Walt woke up when the phone rang, and the boys heard me out here. I told them to go back to their rooms—this is police business. They get that.”
“I’ll bet they’re not used to having police business in their kitchen at three a.m., though,” Verity said. “We’re really sorry to bug you this late.”
“Don’t either one of you worry about it.” Dez pointed at the kitchen table, and placed steaming cups of coffee in front of each of them. “My hours are wonky as it is, so the kids are used to me being up this time of day sometimes. Probably a good idea to do the—” She made a finger-wiggling “magic” gesture at Stone, then shot a knowing look toward the staircase.
“Right.” Stone cast the “cone of silence” spell around the table, then took a long sip of his coffee. It was good, just the way he liked it, but he had to admit he’d have preferred a stiff drink right about now.
Dez sat down with her own cup of coffee, leaning in close. “So you think those two guys who may or may not be reporters set your room on fire?”
