Rite of Passage: An Alastair Stone Urban Fantasy Novel (Alastair Stone Chronicles Book 26)

by R. L. King

  “Daphne…listen. I’ll help you. You know I will. But you’ve got to tell me where you are. I promise, I won’t tell anyone else.”

  “I…can’t. It’s too dangerous. It would take you too long to get here. I’m afraid to stay in one place for too long. I’ve got to find help for Jeremy, and I’m still worried whoever sent that first man might send more.”

  Of course—she’d think he was limited by the portals. Depending on where she was, it could be several hours’ drive. Especially if she was making a particular effort to avoid populated areas. “Er—well, that might not be true. About it taking a long time, I mean. What if I could get to you faster?”

  “What are you talking about? You’d have to take the portal, right? Or a plane?”

  “Not…necessarily. I can’t explain more, so don’t ask me to. But if you tell me where you are, there’s a chance I can get there a lot faster.”

  “Alastair—”

  “Please, Daphne. You’ve got to let someone help you, and unless I miss my guess, I’m all you’ve got. Just tell me. I promise I’ll come alone.”

  The silence dragged out for nearly thirty seconds, but Stone didn’t break it. This was a decision she’d have to come to on her own.

  Finally, she let out a loud sigh. “Okay. I’ll trust you. You’re right, I’ve got to trust somebody. But I’m telling you, we’re not near anything that has a chance of having a portal. We’re in southeastern Minnesota.”

  Stone blinked. “Minnesota? Last we spoke, you were in Texas.”

  “You aren’t the only ones who can use portals.” Her voice sounded amused now. “I knew we’d be taking a chance, but after that man came after us, we needed to get to someplace where nobody could follow us. So I drove us to Dallas and we took the portal to Chicago. From there, we ‘borrowed’ another car, drove up through Wisconsin, and then across to Minnesota. We didn’t really have a plan about where to go, except to stay away from big cities.”

  Stone didn’t answer. He was staring straight ahead, gripping the phone tighter as her words made a connection in his head—a connection he hoped desperately was just a coincidence.

  “Alastair?”

  “Daphne…” His voice came out ragged. “You were in Wisconsin?”

  “Yes, I just said that. Why?”

  “Were you in a little town called McCarthy?”

  “Uh…not sure. I didn’t really pay much attention to the town names. I was too focused on Jeremy.” Her voice sharpened. “Why?”

  He swallowed. “When you left West Virginia, where did you go?”

  “Alastair—what—”

  “Please. Just tell me. Which route did you take?”

  “Uh…let me think. We drove south through North Carolina and Georgia, then across through Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana, and then Texas. From there, we took the portal from Dallas to Chicago, like I said. Why is this important?”

  Oh, bloody hell…it can’t be. It’s absurd.

  But is it?

  “Did you stop anywhere?”

  “Alastair, I’m not telling you anything else until you tell me what’s going on. Why are you asking me these questions? What are you thinking?”

  “Did you stop anywhere in North Carolina, Louisiana, or in Wisconsin?”

  “I—don’t remember if we stopped in North Carolina or Louisiana. I guess we must have. And yes, we definitely stopped in some little town in Wisconsin. I had to get gas. We stopped a lot of places, though, for food or gas or bathroom breaks. I used disregarding spells to make sure nobody recognized our car, and we switched cars frequently to be extra careful.”

  Stone was about to ask Daphne if she’d heard the news, but supposed she hadn’t, especially if they stuck to remote locations. “Did anything odd happen when you stopped in the town in Wisconsin?”

  “Odd? What do you mean?”

  “Did you notice anything unusual around you? Think hard, Daphne. It might be important.”

  “Are you going to tell me why you’re asking all these questions?”

  “I will, I promise. But please tell me first.” He realized his voice sounded almost strangled now, as all the implications of his crazy hypothesis began to settle in and take root.

  “Uh—I don’t know what you mean by ‘odd.’ We stopped at a gas station to fill up, and I went in to use the bathroom. When I got back, Jeremy wasn’t there. I panicked, of course, thinking more of those guys might have found him—but he’d just gone across the street. There was a toy store there, with a brightly-lit window. He was staring into it like it was the best thing he’d ever seen. He got upset when I grabbed him to take him back to the car. I’d have gotten him a toy, but they were closed. Does that count as odd?”

  Stone didn’t answer. A chilly lump had formed in the pit of his stomach. The phone shook in his hand.

  “Alastair—what’s going on?”

  “I need to talk to you, Daphne. As soon as possible. Where are you?”

  “I told you, I’m not—”

  The line crackled.

  “Daphne?”

  More crackles, louder this time. Stone thought he heard Daphne saying something that sounded like “—eremy—” but then the static overwhelmed her voice. The phone beeped twice, indicating a dropped call.

  “Bugger!” Stone yelled, and had to stop himself from flinging the phone across the room.

  Raider jolted awake, stared at him like he’d lost his mind, and darted out of the room.

  “No, no, no!” Why now, of all possible times? Was this Murphy’s Law in action, or something more insidious? Had Daphne herself cut off the call? That didn’t make sense—she’d wanted to hear what he had to say.

  The chill in his core intensified as another thought struck him. “Oh, bloody hell…”

  Was it possible Jeremy had done something to end the call?

  He forced himself to wait several minutes, hoping Daphne would call him back. He paced the room and glanced periodically at the television while he waited; the National Guard and a few police were preparing to enter the cordoned-off zone. “Come on, Daphne…call me back. Please…”

  But she didn’t call back. The minutes ticked away. On the television, the talking heads were still blathering—of course, they wouldn’t be allowed to show the live feed from inside the zone, even if one existed. Depending on what they found, Stone was sure a heavily edited and carefully curated version of the truth would find its way to the news-channel soundbites. Until then he, and everybody else paying attention, would have to wait.

  When the phone rang again, he nearly jumped. Heart pounding, he stared at the display, then let his breath out in disappointment.

  “Hello, Jason.”

  “Hey, Al—didn’t think you’d answer. I thought you’d be dealing with—you know.”

  “Already dealt with.”

  “Are you watching the news?”

  “Yes, but not for much longer. I’m quite concerned something potentially very dangerous is happening, and I’ve got to do something about it.”

  “What? I though you said you already—”

  “I did—or rather, Stefan did. But it’s beginning to look like it might not be an isolated event.”

  “What are you—”

  “Jason, listen.” Stone’s voice shook with stress. “I haven’t got time to talk right now. I’ll get back to you, I promise, but I have to do something important now.”

  Unlike Verity, Jason didn’t insist on asking more questions. He probably knew better—plus, there he knew there wasn’t much he could do to help. “Okay, fine. But let me know. Should I call V back and tell her you’re on to something?”

  “If you like, but tell her not to call me now. I’ve got to go. Talk to you later.” He hung up before his friend could say anything else.

  For a moment, he stood in the middle of his living room, his heart still racing. He took several deep, gulping breaths and tried to calm down, but nothing was working.

  Daphne hadn’t called back.
That could mean several things: she couldn’t remain at whatever phone she’d found, she didn’t want to talk to him, or Jeremy had done something to prevent it. But whatever was happening, Stone knew what he had to do.

  If he was right—if there was even a chance he was right—this was bigger than Daphne now.

  23

  Stone thought about going to Kolinsky’s place in Los Altos Hills, but he had no idea whether the dragon had actually remained there. He could be anywhere in the world now.

  Instead, he popped to the shop entrance. This time, tired as he was, he remembered to use the invisibility spell. It was a good thing, too, because a group of loud, laughing young people were passing in front of the place at the moment he reappeared. He held the spell until they moved past, then shoved through the ward.

  He barely cleared the downstairs door before he was calling. “Stefan? Please show up. We’ve got a big potential problem.”

  Kolinsky appeared in the opposite doorway. He was back to himself again, his hair combed, his suit perfect, and the unnatural pallor he’d displayed before gone. He narrowed his eyes, his expression hardening. “Alastair?”

  Stone strode into the room, still alight with restless energy. “We’ve got a problem,” he repeated. “I think it might be a big one.”

  “Sit down.”

  “I can’t. I’m too wound up.”

  “As you wish.” He crossed the room to his desk and sat, swiveling his chair to face Stone. “Please, continue. Have you become aware of another anomaly?”

  “No. Not yet. But I think I might know what might be causing them—or at least contributing to them.”

  Kolinsky’s gaze sharpened. “Please continue.”

  Stone stopped for a moment, struggling to organize his thoughts. Kolinsky wouldn’t appreciate a disorganized brain dump, even though that was all he felt like he had at the moment. “Remember my friend? The one who turned up in West Virginia?”

  “Yes…”

  “Remember how you said you didn’t think she could be connected with what was going on with the fissures?”

  Kolinsky was looking grim. “Yes…”

  “Well, now I think she might be. Or, more specifically, her son might be.”

  “Why do you think such a thing?”

  Stone quickly told the dragon about his latest conversation with Daphne. He included a description of her and Jeremy’s route, but left out her last known location. “I don’t know for sure because she didn’t give me details about where she stopped, but it sounds very much like she was in McCarthy shortly before the fissure appeared. She even mentioned the gas station and the toy store. She was also in North Carolina, and Louisiana, and…oh, bloody hell,” he muttered as something else came to him.

  “What is it?”

  “Remember how I buggered up my return trip from West Virginia—ended up dropping into a lake somewhere I still don’t know exactly where? I wonder if that’s got something to do with this, too.” He fixed a hard gaze on Kolinsky. “Remember what you said before, about someone causing problems without knowing they’re causing them? Like the bloke who causes a traffic accident and just…moves on, unaware he’s done anything wrong?” He paced faster. “Stefan, tell me I’m wrong here. Tell me that couldn’t happen.”

  Kolinsky didn’t answer.

  “Stefan?” Stone wheeled on him, heart pounding.

  “I…cannot tell you that, Alastair.”

  Stone wasn’t sure he’d ever seen the dragon looking so serious. “Why? What could be happening? What about the man who came after them? The one Jeremy killed. Could he be responsible for this?”

  “It is possible. But you said the man had been neutralized before your friend and her son were in Wisconsin.”

  “Maybe they—whoever’s after them—sent someone else. Maybe they’re getting more desperate.”

  “Again, it is possible.”

  Stone could see Kolinsky didn’t believe it. “Come on—there’s something you’re not telling me here. How can a kid be responsible for tearing holes in reality? Daphne said he’s not a mage, and she’d know. She’s a damned good mage herself.”

  “I will take your word for that. However, she has also lied to you previously. Are you certain she is not lying to you now?”

  Stone almost snapped off an indignant negative, but stopped. Was he sure? Daphne had been acting strangely, with her reluctance to let him know where she was. She’d already told him her story—what else did she have to fear if he came to her and helped her. “What are you thinking?”

  Kolinsky looked away, gazing down at the papers on his desk.

  Stone stalked over to him. “Come on, damn you. If you know something, tell me.”

  The dragon’s hand tightened on his pen. “I do not know anything. I cannot, without more information. But I suspect something. And if I am correct…”

  “What?”

  He did turn then, and met Stone’s gaze with a solemn, implacable one of his own. “If I am correct, Alastair, the boy must be found and destroyed. As quickly as possible.”

  24

  Stone gaped at Kolinsky. “What?” When the dragon didn’t reply, he said, “You want us to murder a child?”

  “I do not say this lightly. But if I am correct, it must be done. There is no other choice.”

  “Correct about what? What do you suspect is going on here?”

  Kolinsky settled back in his chair. “You are an accomplished and highly trained mage, Alastair, but you are not thinking clearly because you are allowing your emotions to cloud your judgment.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You are familiar with dimensional science.”

  “Yes, and—?”

  “Must I remind you of one of the fundamental tenets of dimensional interaction?” The dragon looked like a stern but patient teacher—not unlike William Desmond when he was trying to get a difficult concept through to his apprentice.

  Stone was breathing harder now, his heart still pounding. He wanted to grab Kolinsky around the neck and make him spit out what he was trying to say. Instead, he increased the speed of his pacing until the answer came to him. “Objects and beings have an affinity for their home dimension,” he said dully.

  Kolinsky nodded once. “Yes. You told me this boy was born on the dimension his mother and her partner fled to following the portal mishap.”

  “Yes…that’s what she said. But he’s human, Stefan. He might have been born there, but he was conceived on Earth. Doesn’t that mean anything?”

  “It might. But I cannot believe it is a coincidence that these fissures have so closely followed the route your friend and her son have taken.”

  “But…why there? Or more precisely, why only there? They went a lot of places. If what you’re saying is true, then why didn’t they leave a bloody trail of these things behind them?”

  “We are not certain they did not. But I must point out that, according to both your description and my firsthand experience, each subsequent fissure was larger and more dangerous than the previous ones.”

  “But there wasn’t one in West Virginia—and I didn’t see one in North Carolina, either. Strange things happened, but they faded. When I got there, I didn’t find anything but a load of drugged-out hippies standing about waiting for it to come back.”

  “That suggests to me that the phenomenon, whatever it is, is escalating. Perhaps the longer the boy remains here, the more powerful the effect becomes. I cannot say for certain.”

  Stone shook his head. “It doesn’t make sense, though. People have traveled to other dimensions. Hell, I’ve done it. And I haven’t gone around leaving deadly interdimensional holes behind me.”

  “Yes.” Kolinsky tapped his pen on the desk. “I will admit, parts of this do not make sense. If the boy were a normal, mundane human, even one who was raised with an affinity to a foreign dimension, this should not be occurring. Which suggests to me he is not a normal, mundane human.”

  “What is he
, then? Do you think Daphne was lying to me about him being a mage? That…I don’t know…his latent magical abilities are interacting with something here and causing the fissures to open?” He thought about Jeremy again—the kid was odd, but not completely outside the normal range of human oddity. Just because he didn’t talk didn’t make him dangerous.

  “It is possible.” His expression turned grim again. “But all of this is beside the point. If it is he who is causing these anomalies, whether consciously or unconsciously, he cannot be allowed to continue to do so.”

  Stone glared. “So your answer is to kill him?”

  “Alastair—listen to me.” Some of the grimness dropped away, replaced by sober, relentless focus. “These fissures represent a threat to this world that even the intersectional rifts do not. The intersections are expected. They are a natural process. If this child is responsible for increasingly larger and more dangerous fissures, it isn’t simply a matter of what they might allow through into our world.”

  “Then what is it?” Stone sounded harsher than he wanted to, because he was afraid Kolinsky might be right—and he didn’t want him to be.

  “These fissures—or at least the one I witnessed personally in Wisconsin—are not merely windows between our world and another. They are literal tears in reality. If allowed to remain, they will grow larger. Do you see the implications of that?”

  Stone did. He bowed his head. “You think they’ll just…keep growing, tearing holes in our reality until…something breaks beyond repair.”

  “Yes.”

  “But…how can it be?” He didn’t want to give in to Stefan’s hypothesis yet. They didn’t have enough data to be sure, even though he feared the dragon could be correct. “That’s the part that doesn’t make sense. Okay, so the kid’s got an affinity for his home dimension. Why isn’t he opening rifts to there? Daphne said the place was peaceful. That’s why she chose it when she was desperately looking for a place to run. Where are all these other places coming from? He hasn’t got an affinity for those, has he?”