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

by R. L. King

  Where are you?

  Minnesota. I think she might be in or near Rochester, so that’s good. Must go now. Talk soon.

  Good luck, Doc.

  He was beginning to think he’d need it.

  He shoved the phone back in his pocket and looked around, realizing he was going to have to do something he didn’t want to do: steal a car. He already knew there were no other ley lines anywhere near his destination; the closest one north of him ran through Minneapolis. There were no taxis in evidence, and even though he had his proper phone with him, he didn’t want to risk calling a rideshare.

  Daphne did it, and you’re better at this sort of thing than she is.

  It was true, but he didn’t have to like it.

  You won’t like it if little Jeremy tears Rochester in half either, will you?

  His annoying little voice had been quiet recently, but now it returned stronger than ever.

  The worst part was, he knew it was right.

  25

  It took Stone forty-five minutes to get to Rochester. It would have been faster, but he forced himself to keep to the speed limit. Disregarding spell notwithstanding, it wouldn’t have done him any good to get pulled over while driving a stolen Chevy.

  At least it hadn’t been hard to get the car, and he didn’t think anybody would miss it before he abandoned it. Magical hot-wiring was more difficult than popping locks, especially with new cars sporting a lot of high-tech electronics, but Stone had practiced on older ones with Jason a while back until he got to where he could do it without blowing the car’s electrical system. He was glad now that he had.

  He glanced frequently at the little section of notebook, which he’d propped on the dashboard next to a Saint Christopher’s medal and a little naked troll figure with shocking orange hair. The handwritten text crawled around, pointing the direction as he cruised north. The closer he got to Rochester, the more convinced he was that that was where Daphne had stopped.

  Why, though? She seemed to be avoiding areas with larger populations in the past. Rochester wasn’t a huge city, but Stone had looked it up while doing his research—it had over two hundred thousand people.

  Maybe she’s trying to hide in plain sight, he thought. She would be harder to track if surrounded by a bunch of people. Especially if she didn’t suspect he was coming for her, but that another of the strange men Jeremy had neutralized might be. A creature from another dimension might have a harder time navigating among larger concentrations of people.

  Plus, she might not know anything about the fissures. He hadn’t had the chance to tell her about them before their last call had died. If she’d been avoiding the news and staying in places that didn’t have televisions, it was entirely possible she had no idea the path of destruction she and her son were leaving in their wake.

  Not much longer now. His magical direction indicator was moving nearly constantly now, making small adjustments to keep him on the right track. As he crossed into Rochester proper, he was certain he’d find her somewhere nearby.

  He hoped it would be soon enough to avoid another fissure.

  He’d remembered to bring gloves so he wouldn’t leave fingerprints, so he switched on the radio and tried to find a news station, assuming that if anything was going on, it would be the top story. So far, though, the only mention of oddness was the situation in Wisconsin. By now, the National Guard and police forces had made it to the epicenter of the disaster and discovered the mangled cars, the site of the gas-station explosion, and what the reporter euphemistically referred to as “numerous casualties,” but they weren’t releasing many details yet.

  Stone left the radio on in case anything changed, but focused more of his attention on the notebook text. He couldn’t precisely describe the feeling, but he knew he was getting close. It was a side effect of the augmented tracking spell, creating a sense of growing tension as he approached the target’s location.

  He checked his watch. Almost three hours had passed now, leaving him five remaining before he had to worry about Kolinsky taking matters into his own hands—assuming nothing else went wrong in the meantime.

  The text changed direction again, pointing east. Stone turned at the next opportunity. He was still near the edge of town, on a street lined with small businesses, gas stations, and other standard features of suburbia. He frowned, puzzled. Why would she choose this area? It didn’t have the protection of large numbers of people, nor did it have the safety of isolation.

  The letters squirmed and moved again, pointing decisively to the right. There was no street near here, which meant they had to be close.

  When he saw where the spell was pointing, he got it.

  Set back from the road by a large, weed-choked yard, a two-story house squatted in shadow. Stone couldn’t see it well from where he was, but it appeared that it might have been some sort of rooming house or bed and breakfast, but it was obviously not in business now. No lights shone around its perimeter; even if Daphne and Jeremy were in there and had gone to sleep, the state of the yard told Stone that this place wasn’t a going concern.

  As a test, he drove past the place. Immediately, the text on the notebook fragment reorganized itself, pointing insistently behind him almost as if to say, Hey, dummy, it’s back there!

  Heart beating faster—he’d been so focused on finding Daphne that he hadn’t thought much about what he was going to do when he actually did—he pulled the stolen car off the road, parked it behind a closed strip mall, and used a quick spell to cleanse it of any traces he might have been inside it. Then he pulled his collar up and used an invisibility spell to hide him from any nearby cameras. Once he was clear of the area, he set off at a jog back toward the rooming house.

  She hadn’t left any wards around it. He could tell that as soon as he switched to magical sight. Would wards even detect beings like the one Jeremy had killed? Daphne might not be much to speak of in the combat-magic department, but she’d certainly have no trouble discouraging any mundanes who might get too interested in her location. If she’d left any wards at all, they’d probably be inside the building.

  He switched the invisibility spell for a disregarding one that was easier to maintain, then crept across the unkempt yard toward the house. The spell was still pointing there; he hoped that meant she hadn’t spotted him yet.

  She’s not expecting you to turn up, he reminded himself. She didn’t know about the ley-line travel method. And besides, he’d promised he wouldn’t try to find her. If she didn’t know about the fissures, she’d have no reason to believe he wouldn’t keep his word.

  He switched back to magical sight as he approached the house. Still no sign of any wards or other protective magic around the outside. A tiny green glow darted away to his left—probably a mouse or other small animal. He ignored it and mounted the stairs to the door. They creaked under his weight.

  What now? He couldn’t barge in on her. If he spooked her, she’d run again, and if Jeremy was responsible for the fissures, Stone had no idea what touched him off. Obviously something had, or there would have been a lot more fissures to deal with. The last thing he wanted to do was cause another one here.

  He thought back to the last conversation he’d had with Daphne, before they got cut off. She’d said something about finding Jeremy in front of the toy store, and him getting upset because she couldn’t get him a toy. Maybe anger or frustration caused the fissures. Maybe they had to be in proximity to a ley line for it to work.

  It’s all just conjecture. Get in there and talk to her.

  He tried the door. It was locked, of course, but the simple lock posed him no problem. The door didn’t squeak as he opened it. He stepped quickly inside and closed it behind him.

  With the door shut, the house’s interior was nearly pitch-dark. Only the faint moonlight shining in through the front window provided any illumination, picking out an entry chamber, large rooms through openings on the left and right, and a stairway leading up. He scanned the area with magical
sight but saw no sign of any auras. Either they were in the back, upstairs, in the basement if the place had one, or they weren’t here at all. The place had the musty, rank smell of a space long unused.

  The tracking spell was still pointing here, though. He glanced down at it, noting that the characters—easy to read with magical sight—were essentially spinning in place now. This was ground zero. They were here.

  He was getting nowhere sneaking around like this. In fact, he might cause more problems than he solved if he frightened her. After all, as far as she knew, he was the only person on Earth she could trust right now. He took a chance and called out. “Daphne? Are you here? It’s me, Alastair.”

  As his call faded, he stood still and listened, hoping to hear a soft footfall or a door closing. Would she hide from him?

  For a few interminable moments, he feared she might. The building remained as silent and tomblike as it had before. He was about to mount the stairs and call again when a soft voice came from above him: “Alastair?”

  He jerked his head up, using magical sight again. A figure stood at the top of the stairs, its blue aura alight with the red flashes of nervous agitation.

  “Daphne! Thank the gods I’ve found you.” His first instinct was to pound up the stairs, to get to her as fast as possible, but he hesitated. He didn’t want to spook her—and he definitely didn’t want to spook Jeremy.

  “What—are you doing here? How did you find me?” She kept her voice low, barely above a whisper. He couldn’t see her clearly, but it appeared she was looking back and forth, trying to spot anyone he might have brought with him.

  “I’m alone. I used one of your notebooks for a tracking spell.” He held up the notebook fragment, even though there was no way she could see it from where she was. “Please, Daphne, we’ve got to talk. Can I come up? Where’s Jeremy?”

  “He’s asleep. He’s still not feeling well. We’ll have to be quiet.”

  “That’s fine.” He used a levitation spell to climb the stairs without making any noise and dropped down next to her, then raised a faint light spell so he could see her better.

  She looked terrible. She’d obviously been stressed when he’d last seen her in West Virginia, but now her face was drawn, she had dark circles under her eyes, and her brown hair hung in lank hunks.

  Despite everything that had happened, this woman was still his friend, and her obvious distress worried him. “Bloody hell, Daphne, are you all right?”

  “Just—tired. It hasn’t been easy, running from town to town, stealing cars, worrying that someone would catch us…” Her expression sharpened. “Why are you here? You said you wouldn’t try to find me—”

  “I know. And I’m sorry. Things have changed since then. Have you had a chance to listen to the news at all, when you were driving up here?”

  “No. Jeremy prefers music, so we listened to that. What’s going on? Why were you asking me before about the places we stopped?”

  Stone hesitated. Even with everything that was going on, he still didn’t relish telling Daphne that she, or her son, might have caused something else that resulted in people’s deaths. After the Evil, it seemed cruel somehow.

  But it was still the truth, and it still needed to be dealt with before it happened again. “Is there someplace we can go to talk, where Jeremy won’t overhear us?”

  “I told you, he’s asleep,” she said, almost defensively. But then her shoulders slumped. “Come on. We can go downstairs. Let me just check on him.”

  Stone waited while she crept down the hall, cracked one of the doors, and peered in. Part of him wanted to see the boy himself, to get a look at his aura, but if he was responsible for the problems and agitation caused them, it was better—and safer—to let him sleep.

  Daphne closed the door and led the way downstairs into a large sitting room. Most of the furniture was gone, but a few old pieces still remained. “Sorry—I’d offer you something, but—”

  “Quite all right.” Stone didn’t sit on one of the dusty chairs. Instead, he paced, occasionally glancing out the window to make sure nobody was approaching them. The moonlight provided enough illumination that he didn’t need to risk a light spell.

  “I don’t know how to tell you this, so I suppose the best way is to just spit it out.”

  “What’s going on?” She sounded anxious in the darkness.

  “I’ve been dealing with some…odd magical phenomena recently. At first, I didn’t think they had any connection to you and Jeremy, but now I’m convinced they do.”

  “Me…and Jeremy? That’s crazy. We didn’t do anything. We’re trying to stay away from people.”

  “I know. But I don’t think it matters. There’s something odd about Jeremy. Does he get upset sometimes? Agitated? Angry?”

  “Well, of course he does. He’s a child. They do that sometimes. And I told you, he hasn’t been feeling well—”

  “Do you remember if there’ve been times when he was particularly upset? Specifically in North Carolina and Louisiana? You mentioned he was angry when you wouldn’t get him a toy in Wisconsin.”

  “He wasn’t angry,” she protested. “He was…upset. Frustrated. I don’t blame him. How would you feel if somebody brought you to a whole new world that you didn’t understand? I’ve been trying to explain things to him, but it’s not easy.” She sighed. “I’ll be honest—it’s a lot harder than I thought it would be.”

  Stone hated to press on when she sounded so obviously unhappy, but he had no choice. He watched her aura, noting red flashes of agitation…or possibly deception? He couldn’t tell, and wished Verity were here. She was better at subtle aura reading than he was.

  Almost as if it was reading his mind, his phone vibrated in his pocket, indicating an incoming text. “Excuse me a moment, I’ve got to take this,” he told Daphne, and pulled it out.

  The text was from Verity, as he expected. Bad news. I’m at the Chicago airport, but there aren’t any flights this late for Rochester. No private planes, either.

  Damn. He wasn’t sure how long it would take her to drive here, but he was sure it would be too long for her to be of any use. I was afraid of that, but I hoped I was wrong.

  Do you want me to rent a car and drive up there? My phone says it’ll take like 5.5 hours if I go nonstop.

  Damn again. He glanced up at Daphne, who was eyeing him with suspicion. I’m not sure there’s a point. I’ve found Daphne, but we’ve got some time constraints. Five and a half hours would put her arrival past Kolinsky’s deadline. Stone didn’t know if the dragon could track him down that fast, but he wouldn’t put it past him.

  Reluctantly, he began typing again. I don’t want to bring you all the way up here if there’s no reason. Thank you for trying. Go back through the portal and I’ll talk to you when I get back. Sorry for the false alarm.

  The display said Read and the little dots cycled for a long time as she formulated a reply. I’m not ready to give up yet, she finally replied. Let me think about this.

  Nothing to think about. There’s no faster way to get here.

  Again, the dots cycled, longer this time.

  Then a message popped up. Wait! I have an idea!

  What?

  I’ll get back to you. Don’t want to get your hopes up. Talk soon, Doc.

  Verity, what are you thinking? He typed furiously and stabbed the Send button.

  This time, it went to Read but no dots cycled. “Bugger!” he muttered. He wondered if this was how his friends felt when he did the same thing to them.

  “Alastair.” Daphne’s voice was sharp. “What are you doing? Who are you talking to?”

  He stuffed the phone back in his pocket. “A friend. Someone who might be able to help if she could get here, but she can’t.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “I thought you said you didn’t tell anyone else where we are.”

  “I didn’t. Not specifically, anyway. But I did tell her where I was going.” He resumed his pacing. “Listen, Daphne—I hate to be b
lunt with you, but this is bigger than you and Jeremy now.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m convinced something about you—probably about him—is causing dangerous dimensional fissures to open up.”

  “What?”

  Stone had been watching her aura when he told her, but he wouldn’t have had to. An Oscar-winning actor couldn’t have sounded as convincing. Whatever was going on, she genuinely didn’t know about it. A brief sense of relief engulfed him, but then faded as he realized it didn’t matter. Whether she knew about it or not, it was still happening and they still had to deal with it.

  He pulled his phone out again. If somebody was going to track him with it, they’d probably already done it, so in for a penny, in for a pound. He navigated to a news site, found a story about the Wisconsin incident, and silently passed it to her.

  Her expression sobered as she read it, but then she looked up at him in confusion. “This sounds horrible, but I don’t see anything about a dimensional fissure—or anything that even sounds like one—here.”

  “You wouldn’t, would you? Do you honestly think the mundane authorities would release anything about it even if they knew about it? It’s not there because a friend and I closed it. But if you scroll down to some of the related stories, you’ll see some of the witnesses referred to a ‘gaping hole in reality.’ The authorities think they’re suffering from some sort of mass hallucination, but they aren’t.”

  Her eyes widened as she passed the phone back to him. “You think Jeremy is doing this?”

  “Come on, Daphne—you know more about portals and dimensional travel than I do. You two arrive in West Virginia, creating an anomaly detected from the other side of the country. Admittedly by someone with specialized ways of detecting it, but still. I investigate, find you, and you do a runner on me. When I try returning home, my trip gets buggered up and I end up appearing above some body of water that I still don’t know where it was. That didn’t make me suspect a connection, though. I figured I was tired and made a mistake. But then there was a similar, smaller problem in some nowhere town in North Carolina. Not sure if it was a fissure that time, because when I got there I didn’t find anything but the aftermath. But there was definitely one in Louisiana. I saw it. I closed it. Nearly got my arse handed to me by some fairly terrifying extradimensional beasties in the process, I might add.”