Homecoming: An Alastair Stone Urban Fantasy Novel (Alastair Stone Chronicles Book 23)
Page 9
“Good to see you, Mr. Harrison. It’s been a while.” He wasn’t sure whether anything crept into his tone—it hadn’t been his idea for it to be this long.
Harrison didn’t acknowledge his words, spoken or unspoken. “Please—sit down. We have much to discuss.”
That was standard, too—right down to business. Stone sat in the closer of two leather guest chairs. “I suppose you’ve got questions.”
“Yes.”
“Do you know anything I don’t know? Did you do any checking from your end?”
“I have initiated some inquiries. They have not come back yet, however. Contacting the Travelers is not a simple process.”
“No…I suppose people who don’t want to be found aren’t easy to ring up when you need them.” This time, Stone made no effort to conceal the mild jab.
Harrison leaned back in his chair and settled his disquieting gaze on Stone. “Please, Dr. Stone—tell me everything you know.”
Stone didn’t do that—not quite. He began with the article Gina had discovered on the internet, telling Harrison about how the story had disappeared and then Gina had tracked down the photo and the name of one of the campers.
“So I took a trip to Colorado and tried talking with the man she located,” he finished.
“Were you successful?”
“No—it seemed he had a sudden emergency and left town abruptly. I did find another of the campers, but didn’t get much from him. Except that he was afraid. It was obvious someone had either threatened him or bribed him to keep his mouth shut.”
“I see.” Harrison’s gaze didn’t waver. “Do you have any idea who might have done that?”
“Possibly the man who broke into my hotel room, and was waiting for me there later that evening.”
Harrison raised an eyebrow, but didn’t reply.
Stone told him about Todd’s visit. “I’ve got no idea who he is or who he works for—though I strongly suspect he doesn’t know anything about magic. I can’t be sure, of course, but it sounded like he was looking more for extraterrestrials than extradimensionals.”
“Do you believe he has the Traveler under his control?”
Stone nodded soberly. “I do—or at least someone he’s associated with does. He warned me off trying to find her, and implied that, if she existed at all, she was somewhere I’d have no hope of finding.” He sighed. “And I’m afraid he’s right. I’ve got no way to locate her. Even if I had a tether object for a tracking ritual, I’m not sure tracking spells even work on Travelers. And they could have taken her anywhere in the country.” Raising his gaze to meet Harrison’s, he added, “if she’s still alive at all. It sounded like she wasn’t in good shape when they found her.”
“That doesn’t surprise me.” Harrison looked grim as well.
“Why is that? Because she’s from Calanar?”
“Yes, but not primarily. I don’t know that much about the Travelers’ society. I interact with them occasionally, but gaining their full trust is nearly impossible for anyone outside their own bands.”
“But…” Stone leaned forward.
“I do know that an unfortunate side effect of their adaptation to the harsh environment of the Wastes is their highly magical nature. The presence of magical energy is vital to their well-being. It is one of the reasons they spend little time in the ground-based cities.”
Stone frowned. “So…you’re saying she could die if she’s left without magic too long.”
“Yes. If the people who have her in their custody don’t kill her first.”
“You think they’d kill her?”
“Perhaps not intentionally.” His jaw tightened, and his gaze hardened. “But I am sure you are aware of the human desire to study what they do not understand. Sometimes destructively.”
“I’m glad you didn’t say ‘the mundane tendency.’” Stone snorted. “We’re as bad as they are. Maybe worse. But yes, I see your point in this case.” He spread his hands. “But what can we do? I hope your information network is better than mine, because I’ve got nothing to go on right now. I don’t even know if ‘Todd’ is that man’s first name, his last, or a complete pseudonym. He didn’t show me any identification. And…”
Harrison made a ‘go on’ gesture.
“He implied he knew certain things about me that I’d rather not have getting around.”
“He blackmailed you?”
“Not…exactly. They aren’t dirty secrets or anything, but he suggested it might be odd that I managed to travel from the Bay Area to New Mexico with no record of doing it. If he starts digging into my history, I’m sure he’ll find a lot of similar bits of information. Others have done it before. So far they’ve kept their mouths shut, but…” He shrugged.
“I see. Does that mean you don’t wish to pursue this any further?”
It was tempting. The Travelers were natives of Calanar. This was Harrison’s show, not Stone’s. Now that he’d handed the problem off to someone far more capable of dealing with it, it would be easy for him to wash his hands of the matter without guilt, return to Encantada, and get back to building his portal and figuring out what the hell was going on with Jason.
It would be so easy…
“No,” he said firmly. “It doesn’t. I’m involved now, and I intend to see this through, one way or another. Though I haven’t got the faintest idea what I can do at this point.”
A brief flash of approval crossed Harrison’s face before his impassive mask settled back into place. “I am pleased to hear that.”
“So…have you got any thoughts on how we can proceed? I assume you’ll reach out to your amazing information network and try to either figure out who Todd is and who he works for, or lean on Mr. Vargas for more information. Yes?”
“Those are two options, yes.” His gaze locked on Stone’s again. “But I wonder at something. Dr. Stone.”
“Yes…?” Stone kept careful control over his aura. He had no idea where Harrison was leading, but it was always wise to be careful around him.
“Your curiosity is renowned—I suspect it even exceeds mine in certain areas. But yet you have avoided discussing—or asking questions about—an obvious aspect of this case.”
“Oh? And what would that be?” He tensed, his hands tightening on the chair arms.
“I thought you would certainly be curious about how a Traveler came to be stranded on Earth.”
Stone went still, but only for a second. “Seems obvious—something to do with the manastorms, yes? I thought she must have been separated from her group and got caught out before she could get to shelter.”
He looked up to find Harrison still staring at him. “You don’t think that’s the case?”
“I don’t believe you think that is the case,” Harrison said softly. “What are you hiding from me, Dr. Stone?”
He thought about lying, about protesting he wasn’t hiding anything, about getting defensive and turning the conversation back on Harrison.
None of those would work, though, and he knew it. He’d never met anyone who was better at reading people than Trevor Harrison—magic or no magic.
Instead, he shook his head. “Nothing that will affect our ability to locate the Traveler and return her home—not now that you’re involved.”
Harrison’s gaze remained on him, and Stone wondered, not for the first time, if he could read minds. If he could, things were about to get interesting in a hurry.
“All right,” Harrison said, standing. “Keep your secrets—for now, at least. If you’re correct, I need not ask you to reveal them.”
Stone rose as well. “Again, I don’t think they’re relevant. If that changes, we’ll revisit the subject.” Yes, that will go well. Unless he’s got a way to circumvent my oath, we won’t get far, will we? He took on a brisk tone. “Right, then. What’s our next step?”
“That depends on how much you want to be involved.”
“I told you already—I’m ready to see this through to the end.”
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“Does that include accompanying me to retrieve the Traveler when I discover her location?”
Stone didn’t miss that he’d said when, not if. “Yes. Why wouldn’t it?”
“You seem to fear reprisals, should anyone look too closely at your activities. There is always a risk someone might identify you.”
He chuckled. “I’ll take the chance—but I doubt it. Especially if magic isn’t involved. Thanks to you, my illusions are better than they’ve ever been.”
Harrison inclined his head. “As you wish. As Mr. Nakamura has no doubt mentioned, a room has been prepared for you. I must do some investigation you can’t assist, but if you will remain here, I should have more information by tomorrow at the latest.”
“Indeed? You do have better information networks than I do.” He thought about Kolinsky, but even if the black mage was available, this wasn’t the sort of thing Stone wanted to involve him with. The farther away Stefan Kolinsky and any knowledge about Harrison or the existence of Calanar remained, the better.
Harrison didn’t reply, but merely stood waiting.
“Right then,” Stone said, getting the hint. “I’ll clear out for a while. Please don’t keep me in the dark for too long, though—I’ve got a number of things going on at home I’d like to get back to when this is sorted.”
“I understand.”
Stone turned to leave, but stopped and turned back. “Are you going back to Calanar?”
“Now?”
“Well, soon. To talk to the Travelers?”
“Possibly. Why?”
He almost didn’t answer. It wasn’t the time to be bringing up such things. But given how rarely he saw Harrison, he couldn’t let this chance go by. “I’d like to go back sometime. I find myself missing the place, daft as that might sound. And I want to learn what you offered to teach me, if the offer’s still open.”
“The offer is always open, Dr. Stone. The challenge will be to find the time. Unfortunately, I have little of that to spare at the moment. It was fortunate I chose to contact Mr. Nakamura when I did, or I might have missed your message until it was too late.”
Stone nodded, and thought he did a good job of hiding his disappointment. “Of course—I certainly understand lack of time. Perhaps later, after we’ve all sorted our various problems.” He didn’t laugh bitterly, but he almost did. Somehow, he doubted he’d ever sort out all his various problems. No matter how many he solved, new ones were always right there waiting to pop up in their place. If Harrison was half as busy as he was, they wouldn’t have a chance to get together until sometime in the next decade.
Should have taken him up on it when you had the chance, the mocking little voice in the back of his mind spoke up. It had been relatively quiet lately, but it never went away completely.
All he said was, “Good afternoon, Mr. Harrison. I hope we have more to go on tomorrow.”
12
To Stone’s surprise, the “room” assigned to him wasn’t a room at all, but a suite. He smiled as he pushed open the door and got a good look at it. “Ah…I see,” he murmured.
It was the same suite he’d occupied during his stay on Calanar, now shifted back to the Earth dimension where it probably spent most of its time. On Calanar, it had contained fewer electronic Earth amenities—such as a big-screen television—but when he checked the spacious bathroom, he discovered the old familiar mechanomagical healing machine wasn’t here in the current incarnation.
Tradeoffs, he supposed.
So now he had several hours to kill, and nothing to do. He was far too keyed up about the Traveler’s fate to attend a show, he didn’t like gambling, and all his research methods were either home in Encantada or in England. Damn Vegas for not having a portal anyway. If it did, he could have popped off until tomorrow morning and got something done instead of knocking around inside this luxurious but impersonal space. Hell, he could have told Harrison what he’d discovered over the phone, and waited to come here until he was ready to take action.
Too late for that now, though. He glanced at his watch: almost six o’clock. He slumped onto a soft leather sofa in front of the floor-to-ceiling window and stared moodily out over the Strip, then pulled out his phone and tapped out a text.
Did you ever find any potatoes?
The reply came back fast: I’m in Oregon now. It’s beavers here, I think. They probably ate the potatoes.
He smiled, relaxing. Want to chat for a bit?
Sure.
She answered on the first ring. “Hey. Still in Colorado?”
“No. I’m in Las Vegas now.”
The line crackled. “Vegas? What are you doing there? Did you find another one?”
“No, but I did find something—or someone—perhaps even more elusive.”
The crackle was longer this time. “You’re kidding.”
“I am not. I just met with him less than an hour ago.”
“Hang on a second…I want to get comfortable for this.” The sound of rustling came though, followed by the crinkling of paper. “I’m in a little Mexican restaurant in a tiny little town called Burns. You’d like the beer, but probably not the food, since it hasn’t ripped the skin off the roof of my mouth yet.” More crinkling, and when she spoke again she sounded like her mouth was full. “Sorry—just finishing my burrito. So come on, tell me what’s going on. You actually found His Nibs in residence?”
Stone chuckled. “Not exactly. He showed up after Mr. Nakamura delivered the message I had for him.”
“Wait a second.” Still more crinkling, followed by a swallow. “What’s you-know-who got to do with a you-know-what in Colorado?”
“Bit of a long story, and unfortunately I can’t tell you much of it.”
“Yeah, right, I get it. But can you tell me anything? Or did you just call to chat?”
“A little of both, actually. He’s off checking on some things, which means I’ve got time to kill until tomorrow.”
“Ah, I see. I’m the cure for your boredom.” Her voice was laced with fond amusement.
Stone settled back until he was nearly reclining on the sofa. It felt so good to just talk with her again, without the undercurrents of tension. He hoped it would last when she got back from her trip and returned to normal life again. “Always.”
“You’re worse than Raider, you know.” Her voice changed, growing more serious. “So…what can you tell me?”
Stone considered. He’d never given Verity the whole story about what had occurred on Calanar. All she knew was it was another dimension and Harrison spent a lot of his time there, and Stone had learned a different magical style there.
“Sometimes,” he said slowly, choosing his words with care, “when you leave a door open, someone might come through it.”
He heard a soft gasp. “Are you saying somebody came through the rift? From wherever it pointed to here?”
“I can neither confirm nor deny that.”
“Wait. Okay, here’s where I have to admit something.”
“What’s that?”
“I got curious about what you said before, so I called Jason today and asked him about the article Gina found. So I know about the space alien or whatever it was those guys found in Colorado. I hope you don’t mind, but frankly, if you get mad at me for curiosity, we’re gonna have words.”
Her voice still sounded light and amused, and once again Stone had to chuckle. “Of course not. I’m surprised it took you this long to do it, actually. And that part isn’t the secret anyway. Mostly.”
“Mostly? Is that what came through the you-know-what?”
“Verity, you aren’t under any oaths. You can call it what it is.” He thought briefly about someone possibly tapping his line. “You know, on second thought, perhaps it might be better to keep things vague.”
“Why is that? Are you someplace somebody can hear us?”
“Not…exactly.”
“You know this is driving me crazy, right?”
“I know, and I�
�m sorry. I’ll try to answer as many of your questions as I can. I’m not keeping secrets from you on purpose.” Mostly.
“Okay. So are you looking for the space alien?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have any idea where it is?”
“No—but I do know there are people who don’t want her found.”
“Her?”
“The article did say it appeared she was a woman.”
“Oh, right. But…I have a feeling you might have more information.”
“That’s what Harrison’s trying to find out.”
“Okay…” Another swallow, followed by soft, unintelligible voices. “Sorry—server came by. What does he care about some space alien in a weird-news story?”
Stone didn’t answer.
“Wait a minute…I think I get it now. You said something might come through if a doorway’s left open, and now Harrison’s interested. Are you saying…whoever this is came through from wherever he’s from?”
Stone smiled. Sharp as ever, his apprentice. He’d been counting on it. “Gold star to the lady with the bad burrito.”
There was a long pause. “Wow…” she finally said. “So…they have space aliens on his dimension?”
“She’s not a space alien.” Mindful again of the possibility someone might be listening, he said, “She’s…likely a resident. I can’t tell you anything else about that, though—not on the phone, at least.”
“A resident? Did she come through on purpose?”
“We think not. She’s either injured, ill, or both.”
“And you two are trying to figure out where she is and get her back home?”
“Yes.”
“Why do I feel like you’re keeping something from me?”
“Probably because I am. I had a little visit in my hotel room when I was in Gunnison, and I’m a bit concerned someone might be paying too much attention to my activities.”
“You think somebody’s tapping your phone?” Her voice dropped to a hushed whisper.