The Seventh Stone: A Novel in the Alastair Stone Chronicles

by R. L. King

  You’re too close to it, his little inner voice told him. That’s why parents don’t train their children. You should find him another master.

  But I don’t want to find him another master, he told the voice stubbornly. We’re nearly strangers. It’s not the same.

  Isn’t it? Then why are you already getting frustrated because he’s not learning as fast as you think he should?

  Stone didn’t respond to that; he had no response. At least not one he cared to admit to. Instead, he focused on watching Verity as she sat cross-legged at the center of the circle, her eyes closed, her brow furrowed with concentration. This shouldn’t take long—since she and Jason were siblings, the bond between them should make tracking him much easier than it would for Stone, especially without a tether.

  Unless he’s—

  Shut up, Stone snapped, and for once the little voice didn’t push it.

  But the longer the ritual went on, the more the tension in his every muscle increased, and the faster his heart thudded. What if—

  Verity let her breath out and slumped in the circle.

  Stone leaped up from his chair and hurried over to give her a hand up. “Did you find him?” he demanded, perhaps too loudly.

  She let him pull her up, but then snatched her hand back. “We have to go. Now.”

  Bloody hell. “What is it?”

  “I found him. And I think he’s hurt. Bad.”

  34

  Stone drove south like the proverbial bat out of hell, using a combination of a disregarding spell and some questionable driving techniques to get himself and Verity down to the San Jose as fast as possible without attracting the police.

  Both of them remained silent and grim as the BMW flew down 101, dodging cars and even driving on the shoulder occasionally when necessary. Fortunately for them, the Sunday-afternoon traffic was relatively light. Verity gripped the dashboard with one hand, leaning forward in her seat as if trying to make the car go faster by sheer force of will. In her other hand she held a map, and glanced at it every few seconds. “Here,” she said, pointing at an exit. “Make a left at the light.”

  There were already several cars stopped at the red light. When it turned green and the one in front of them didn’t move as soon as possible, Stone laid on the horn. “Get moving, you bastard,” he muttered, then stamped on the gas to whip the BMW around the slow-moving vehicle when it finally trundled out into the intersection. The driver flipped him off out his window, but Stone barely noticed. For once, Verity didn’t complain about his driving.

  The spot she had identified during the ritual turned out to be a construction site. It appeared to be a small apartment complex; far enough along that the chain-link fence surrounding the building had been removed, but a few silent construction vehicles and covered stacks of materials still lingered in the otherwise empty parking lot.

  “He’s here?” Stone got out of the car and swept his gaze over the place. It was four stories, and he estimated it would probably include around forty apartments when it was finished. “It’s going to be a nightmare finding him if he’s inside.”

  She pointed at a gray vehicle parked halfway up the block. “There’s his work car.”

  Both of them hurried to it. It was locked and empty, and nothing on the seats indicated its owner’s whereabouts.

  Stone growled in frustration. “Come on—perhaps if we get inside, you might pick up some sort of connection to—”

  “Hang on a sec.” Verity studied the car, then used magic to pop the lock on the passenger door. Without comment, she opened the glove box and crouched to examine the contents. After a moment, she shot her hand out and snatched up a scrap of paper inside.

  “What’s that?” Stone’s whole body thrummed with the desire to act, to dash inside the building and locate his friend. He could tell without even looking at Verity’s aura that she felt the same way.

  She shook her head in disappointment. “Nothing. It’s just got the address of this place on it, but no apartment number or anything.” She slammed the door shut and re-locked it. “How are we gonna do this? I can’t do another ritual out here—”

  Stone took another look at the building, ever mindful of the fact that if she was right, Jason was badly injured in there somewhere, and might even be dying as they dithered about how to proceed. Four stories, forty apartments—so ten on each floor. “Come on,” he urged, taking off at a swift stride that wasn’t quite a run back toward the structure.

  She had to jog to keep up with him. “What are we doing?”

  “There aren’t any blinds on any of the windows yet. If he’s in one of the rooms, we should be able to spot him through them. You start low, I’ll start high. Call me if you find him.”

  Verity got it instantly. “On it,” she agreed, and took off at a run.

  Stone pulled up his improved disregarding spell and quickly lifted off the ground. Thanking the gods once again for his new abilities, he levitated to the fourth floor and then began moving to the side, pausing briefly to peer into each window in turn. He wasn’t worried about anyone spotting him—the disregarding spell was made for this kind of thing. Nobody would ever expect a human to be floating along looking in fourth-story windows, so anyone who might be looking would find their vision skating away from him as if he weren’t even there.

  His tension grew as each window he peeked into revealed nothing but an empty room. Most of them were bare, even the fixtures and carpeting not installed yet, so it was easy to see with a quick glance that Jason wasn’t inside. By the time he’d made it all the way around the building on the fourth floor, his heart was pounding and the tiny thrill of dread running through him had increased to a nearly palpable sensation.

  He wanted to grab his phone and call Verity, to see if she’d found anything, but he refrained. He knew she’d call him the instant she did, so her silence meant she had to be going through the same thing—even worse, since he was her brother. Why did I let him go? I knew it was a dangerous idea.

  It was, but it had also been a good idea, and he knew it. He dropped down to the third floor and began his circuit again, forcing himself to quiet his spinning thoughts. The best thing he could do for Jason right now was to keep his head and find him as fast as possible.

  His phone buzzed, startling him.

  He snatched it from his pocket, nearly dropping it in his haste to answer. “Did you find him?” he snapped. She was nowhere to be seen down below, so either she was on the other side of the building or she’d gone inside.

  “Hurry!” Her voice shook. “He’s on the second floor, in the apartment at the back corner. He looks bad. There’s blood. I’m about to break this window—”

  Stone had already determined that the windows didn’t open. “Don’t do that. Meet me at the door downstairs and we’ll go in there.”

  “Doc—”

  “Do it,” he ordered, already on the ground and running toward the front. “A few more seconds won’t matter.” He hoped he was right about that. “Come on.”

  As he reached the apartment building’s front door, Verity came tearing around the other corner. Her eyes were wild, her face flushed. She grabbed it and yanked. “Locked!”

  Stone didn’t bother to remind her she was a mage and could get it open herself. She was single-minded in her intention to get to her brother as fast as possible now, so he did his best to facilitate that. One of them had to remain calm. He popped the lock open and she plunged through with barely a pause, dashing through the lobby, leaping over stacks of building materials, and pulling open the stairway door.

  Stone followed her, his longer strides catching up before she reached the second floor. She flung open the door and took off down the hall, moving unerringly in the direction of the rear corner.

  The apartments’ front doors hadn’t been installed yet, so when she reached the rearmost one on the back side she didn’t slow down. “Jason!” she shouted, then a moment later wailed, “Oh, my God, Jason!”

 
Stone came through behind her and stopped in the doorway to one of the bedrooms, momentarily shocked at the sight in front of him.

  Jason lay on the floor in the middle of the room. He was unconscious, and from the look of the bloodstain stretching out behind him, he’d tried to crawl toward the door but hadn’t made it more than a few feet before passing out. He wore dark blue jeans and a buttoned shirt, both now covered with blood. His face, bruised and puffy, looked like someone had punched him in it several times. His hands were tied behind his back.

  Verity had already dropped down next to him, heedless of the blood on the floor. “Oh, God…” she murmured. She used magic to break the ropes binding him, then put her hand on his back and gently shook him. “Jason! Wake up…”

  He groaned, but otherwise didn’t respond.

  Stone, feeling helpless to do anything else, scanned the room for any sign of invisible lurkers or magical traces, but found neither. “Can you heal him?”

  Her head was bowed in concentration as she ran her hands over his body, a few inches away. “He’s in bad shape. Looks like they beat him up pretty good—couple of broken ribs, possible internal injuries—maybe a concussion.”

  Once again, Jason groaned.

  “Can you heal him?” Stone demanded again, already pulling out his phone. “Or do we need to call—”

  “Just give me a minute. I have to figure out where to start. There are so many injuries, and I have to heal them all individually. I—”

  She stopped, her body tensing.

  “What is it?” Stone snapped.

  Her face went through a series of expressions: uncertainty, fear, and then finally resolve. She didn’t answer Stone, but instead shook Jason’s shoulder again. “Jason! Wake up!”

  Jason moaned in pain and rolled over a little. His eyes cracked open, and he blinked a few times. “V…?” he whispered through bloody lips.

  “Yeah. I’m here. Doc’s here too. Don’t move too much. You’re in bad shape.”

  “H-how…did you…?”

  “Magic, dummy,” she said, her voice shaky but her tone fond. “You can’t hide from us, remember?” She sobered, gripping his arm. “Listen, Jason. This is important, okay?”

  He nodded, wincing.

  “I can try to heal you. I think I can do it, but you’ve got a lot of injuries. Whoever beat you up did a good job.”

  “Yeah…” he gritted. “I…noticed that.” He spat blood and blinked more out of his eyes.

  “But…Jason, there’s another option.” Her hand went to her bag.

  Stone caught on immediately. “Verity—”

  “It’s his choice,” she said grimly.

  “But you said—”

  She ignored him and focused on her brother, pulling the little brown bottle from her bag and holding it up. “Jason…listen to me. Hezzie and I made this. We used some of Viajera’s blood and some of yours.”

  Jason’s gaze sharpened a little, though he still looked like he wasn’t seeing her clearly. “V—what—”

  “We think we got it right. If we’re right, this should be a version of that stuff you took before. Not as strong, but the regeneration should heal you a lot faster and better than I can. But—Jason, listen to me!”

  He’d drifted again, but his attention snapped back at her words.

  “This is experimental. I’m not sure it’ll work. I think it will. I’m pretty sure it will. But no guarantees. It’s up to you. Do you want to try it, or do you want me to heal you the old-fashioned, safer way and maybe not get everything?”

  Stone hung back, wanting to say something, but realizing it wasn’t his place to do it. He trusted Verity’s abilities—he’d trained her well, and she’d learned even more valuable skills from Edna Soren and Hezzie. If she was confident enough to offer this solution to her brother, it wasn’t for him to object.

  Jason blinked again, his attention moving from Verity’s face to the bottle in her hand. His normally tanned complexion was ashen, his forehead dotted with sweat. “You…made…”

  “Yeah.” She tightened her grip, her voice and hand both shaking. “Jason, you have to focus. I think you’re going into shock. I’ve got to do something now. Tell me what you want me to do.”

  He held her gaze a moment longer, then his hand fluttered up, reaching for the bottle. “I…trust you, V.”

  Her hand shook even more as she pulled out the stopper. She glanced up at Stone, looking suddenly hesitant, almost as if asking his permission.

  “He trusts you, Verity,” he murmured. “As do I.”

  “Yeah…” she whispered. “Tilt his head up, will you?”

  Stone crouched next to Jason and lifted him gently to a semi-reclining position. Jason winced again and went even paler, but with his eyes still fixed on Verity, he opened his mouth.

  She put the bottle to his bloody lips and poured the contents slowly in, holding her wrist with her other hand so it didn’t shake.

  Stone lowered Jason back down and rose, watching closely.

  Jason made a couple of convulsive swallows, then clamped his eyes shut. His body went stiff, his hands clenching. A moan escaped his lips.

  “Oh no,” Verity whispered. “We didn’t do it right… Something’s wrong…”

  “No,” Stone said gently. “I don’t think so. Look at his aura.”

  Jason’s normally steady blue aura, flickering and red-tinged with his injuries, was already growing stronger and brighter as Stone watched. It was hard to make out anything physically yet, but it did seem as if a bit of color was returning to his pale face, and some of the worst bruises were fading.

  “Jason…?” Verity asked tentatively.

  Jason let out a long, shuddering breath, but when he spoke, his voice was stronger. “Damn, V,” he muttered. “That stuff tastes like crap. Maybe…put a little mint or something in it next time?”

  Verity barked a shaky laugh, her shoulders slumping in relief. “Leave it to you to complain about the flavor…”

  “How do you feel?” Stone asked. “Is it working?”

  Jason nodded, but he still didn’t get up. “Yeah…I think so.” His tension began to relax. “Give me…maybe a few minutes, okay? Whatever it is, it’s not quite as dramatic as the other stuff.” He reached up and took Verity’s hand. “Thanks, V.”

  “No problem, big bro. That’s why you keep me around, right? To fix you up when you do something stupid?”

  “Yeah…that’s it. That’s the only reason.” He rolled his head back and forth, looking first at Verity and then at Stone. “You found me with magic?”

  “Verity did,” Stone said. “We grew concerned when you didn’t call.”

  “What time is it?”

  “Nearly two.”

  “Shit.” Jason tentatively tried to sit up, and seemed surprised to discover he could do it.

  “Who beat you up?” Verity asked. “Was it the New Life people?”

  “Yeah.” He looked disgusted. “I was an idiot. I’m sorry, Al—I thought I was on to something, but they must have known all along. They played me like a rented goalie.”

  “There’s time for that later,” Stone said. “We need to get out of here. I doubt they’ll come back and I’m sure we can handle them if they do, but best not to take chances. Do you feel up to standing yet?”

  “Let me give it a try. This stuff is amazing, V. Please tell me you have more.”

  “Well…let’s talk about that later, too,” she said without looking at him.

  With Stone’s help, Jason struggled to his feet. He swayed a moment, but then righted himself, still looking amazed at how fast the elixir had worked. “You could make a fortune selling that stuff,” he said in wonder.

  She didn’t answer.

  “Verity, you get him out of here,” Stone said. “Use levitation so he doesn’t leave bloody footprints all the way out, and an illusion to cover the blood.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  He indicated the room, which looked like a
bloody crime scene. “Take a quick look around to see if I can get any impressions, and clean up the blood. It won’t do to leave this much of it behind.”

  She looked dubious, but nodded. “Hurry up. We’ll take Jason’s car back to his place, okay? You’ll be okay here by yourself?”

  “Of course. I’ll meet you there shortly.”

  35

  Stone did the best he could to clean up the scene of the beating, taking care to magically neutralize Jason’s blood so no one could trace it to him or use it as part of a ritual, then using magic to scour as much of it as possible from the floor. He couldn’t do a perfect job—anybody who came in here would know something had occurred—but at least it shouldn’t come back to bite any of the three of them.

  Driving at a more sedate pace this time, he reached Jason’s apartment in Mountain View about forty-five minutes after they’d parted. Verity answered his knock right away, looking concerned.

  “I was about to call you,” she said. “I was afraid something had happened. What took so long?”

  “I wanted to be thorough. Everything’s fine. How’s Jason doing?”

  “See for yourself,” came a voice from the hall leading to the bedroom.

  Jason appeared in the doorway. “V does good work, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Bloody hell,” Stone said, stunned.

  If he hadn’t seen his friend before, he’d never have guessed Jason had taken a bad beating only a couple of hours ago. He’d changed to fresh jeans and a T-shirt, his hair damp from a shower. No sign of blood or bruises appeared on his face or body, and he moved with his normal grace and no hesitation.