by R. L. King
“You go right ahead and do that. All I want right now is a cold beer and a good night’s sleep.”
Harrison inclined his head. “I must return home now. Do you wish to accompany me? I can send you to the Obsidian. The jet is available to return you to California.”
“I suppose that’s the best offer I’m likely to get. I took a rideshare out here, and I don’t fancy walking back.” He stared at Harrison. “Bloody hell, but you’ve got some power. I’m glad I didn’t have to tangle with you. But thanks for the save.” He dragged himself up. “Any chance I could have a session with one of the healing beds before you send me home?”
“I think that can be arranged, yes.”
Stone took one last look at the spot where the portal had stood. No sign remained of it now; the clearing looked as serene and calm as ever. Had any nearby campers spotted the flashing lights of the magic battle and wondered if someone was setting off illegal fireworks out in the boonies? It was an amusing thought, but his mind quickly returned to less amusing ones: The Talented had tried this once. Would they do it again? Would others from still other dimensions figure out a way to do it? The rifts had been bad enough, but at least they were natural, and at least they sorted themselves out eventually.
He sighed. He’d have time to worry about things like that later. “Let’s go,” he said. “I’m done with this place.”
29
It was nearly one a.m. when Stone finally got back to his Encantada house, bending to greet Raider as the cat wound around his ankles at the front door.
What a night. At least it didn’t hurt to bend over anymore—that was something—but he was still so tired he debated sleeping on the sofa in the living room instead of braving the stairs to his bedroom. The Calanarian healing machine had taken care of his bruised ribs, but done nothing about his fatigue.
“Come on, mate,” he muttered to Raider. “Bedtime.”
He thought over the last few hours as he trudged upstairs. It had indeed been an eventful night—but he hoped it was the end of “eventful” for a while. Right now, he could use two or three days’ solid sleep, and after what had happened, sorting out Jason’s strange new abilities and resuming work on his portal seemed positively pedestrian by comparison.
He liked that. Pedestrian was good for a change.
Harrison had been as good as his word, popping both of them back to the Nexus from the Colorado clearing. He’d immediately excused himself, leaving Stone in the care of Anzo, the familiar mechanomechanical construct who’d been his personal assistant during his previous visit. Anzo had led him to the infirmary, where Tanissa had been happy to set him up for a session in the miraculous healing bed. Twenty minutes later, every ache and pain from the fight had vanished.
“I have got to get one of those,” he marveled as he sat up. “Too bad it probably won’t work where I come from, but it’s worth a test.” Harrison had told him before that most of the magical technology from Calanar wouldn’t work on Earth because the magic level wasn’t high enough, but that it was possible some of the minor items might function in locations where several ley lines converged. Stone was itching to try some of them at Caventhorne, which sat on a confluence of five.
Tanissa smiled. “I’m glad you have to come here. I’ve missed you.”
Stone shot her a glance. Was she flirting with him? Usually he was fairly adept at picking that up, but in her case it might just be her usual sunny personality, which had brightened considerably since her arrival at New Argana.
“I’ve missed you, too. All of you. I’d like to come back some time—Harrison’s promised he’ll teach me all sorts of things one of these days, but the problem is finding the time. Apparently he’s quite busy lately.”
“He is.” Her expression sobered. “It’s terrible what’s going on lately. I’m glad I got out when I did. The cities are getting dangerous—both the floating ones and the ones on the ground. The word we’re getting is that even the Talented’s low level of trust has eroded to the point where they’re all suspecting each other of trying to stockpile power secretly.” She sighed. “The historical records of the last war are spotty, but it’s looking like they’re moving in that direction.”
“And Harrison’s trying to stop that? I didn’t think he gave a damn if those prats blow each other out of the sky.”
“He doesn’t—as long as they don’t take us and the ground-based cities with them.” She looked at her hands in her lap. “And you may not believe this, but there are worthwhile people among the Talented. People who just want to live their lives and be left alone. It would be a shame if they were lost because of the arrogance of their leaders.”
“It would indeed,” Stone agreed. “I can see he’s got his hands full—all of you do. I wish you luck. But I hope you won’t think me rude if I say I’m glad I’m not involved.”
“Of course not. This isn’t your world. Nobody expects you to leave your home and risk yourself.”
Still, Stone felt inexplicably guilty, but right now it looked like he had his own problems to deal with. He jumped off the table and twisted to test his ribs. “Anyway, I hope I can come back for a visit occasionally, at least. Perhaps I can talk Harrison into being a bit more accessible. He’s bloody difficult to contact from Earth.”
“Probably on purpose,” she said, her faint smile returning.
She’d called Harrison, and shortly after he’d appeared at the infirmary.
“Are you ready to return?” he asked.
Stone thought he looked more distracted than usual, like his mind was far away. “Er…yes, if you don’t mind sending me.”
“Of course.” He strode out of the room, obviously expecting Stone to follow.
Stone shot an exasperated glance at Tanissa and hurried to follow.
“Have you figured out yet whether it was the Talented who set up that portal?” he called as he sped to catch up with the fast-moving Harrison.
He didn’t answer until they’d reached the teleport pad and reappeared at the top of the Nexus. “I am certain it was. I have no proof yet, however.”
“I thought they didn’t have that kind of knowledge.”
“As did I. Apparently necessity is making innovators of some of them, and that is dangerous.”
Stone frowned as a thought struck him. “You don’t think…any of them came through, do you?” The thought of even one or two of the Talented running around causing trouble on Earth chilled him.
“I don’t know. I doubt it. My suspicion is that those directly involved were killed by the manastorm.” Harrison motioned for Stone to stand on the familiar spot.
“Those directly involved.” Another chill ran through him. Harrison was very precise in his speech—he never said anything unnecessary. So that meant— “Wait. I see what you’re not saying here. You think, even if the manastorm killed the ones out there tinkering in the Wastes, that doesn’t mean there weren’t others back in one of the cities, either pulling the strings or coordinating things from there. Right?”
“I don’t know, Dr. Stone. I have sent inquiries, but they have not come back yet. These things take time, because utmost care must be observed.” He indicated the pad. “Forgive my abruptness, but I cannot stay. If you wish to return home, I must do it now.”
Once again, the familiar temptation tugged at Stone. He could stay here for a while, maybe learn some new techniques—hell, maybe help Harrison with whatever he was doing. He could be away for a month and return to Earth with only a single day having passed.
So many possibilities…
“No, I understand. I do want to go home. This isn’t a good time for me to stay. Thanks for everything once again, Mr. Harrison. I hope you get your problems sorted and we can talk again soon.”
Harrison inclined his head, and an instant later, Stone stood in the same familiar, featureless room at the Obsidian.
It took a bit longer to locate Nakamura and have him make the arrangements for the hotel’s jet to return Stone
to the Bay Area. Between the flight time, the cab ride to A Passage to India to pick up his car, and the drive home to Encantada, he barely managed to keep his eyes open.
“Well, Raider,” he said as he threw off his clothes and climbed into bed, “looks like everything’s sorted, for now at least.”
As he dropped off to sleep, it occurred to him that he hadn’t checked the house. The wards should have stopped any intruders, but he had a feeling the blond man from the clearing wouldn’t have much trouble getting past them.
Ah, well. If he did, he did. At this point, Stone was too tired to care.
30
Stone spent the next few days in a heightened state of alert.
He couldn’t shake the feeling that this whole mess with Harrison and the rift wasn’t over yet. Every time his phone rang, he expected it to be someone contacting him about some new problem—either Harrison, or Agent Fischer, or some new person he hadn’t heard from yet. He was relieved when the calls turned out to be the University wanting something from him even though the fall quarter didn’t start for over a month, or even telemarketers.
He also couldn’t stop himself from looking over his shoulder every time he went out, convinced the blond man from the rift was there, ready to jump him. He’d been so confident before that the man couldn’t touch him—that some shadowy “protocol” was in place that prevented it—but that seemed no longer to be in effect. The man had touched him—done a hell of a lot more than that, in fact—and could easily have killed him if he hadn’t had his shield up.
Sure, the guy didn’t know that apparently killing Stone was a lot harder than anybody suspected these days, but that only made things worse.
He’d tried contacting Kolinsky the day after he returned, figuring the black mage probably knew something about what was going on. He planned to insist on getting some answers, and refusing to take no for an answer this time. He felt, after all of this, he was owed at least some kind of explanation.
Kolinsky wasn’t at the shop.
Worse, he hadn’t responded to Stone’s call.
Stone had stood in the empty space, shouting Kolinsky’s name with increasing impatience, over a full ten minutes before finally conceding it wasn’t doing any good.
Had Stefan simply tired of being summoned like a spirit, or a servant? He’d expressed annoyance previously, and warned Stone not to abuse the privilege. Had this been the final straw?
Brilliant timing, Stefan. Really.
On a whim, he’d even popped by Madame Huan’s shop. He didn’t expect her to be there, and she wasn’t. As usual, the pleasant shop assistant assured him she’d pass the message on, but that her boss was “away on an extended buying trip” and not answering messages in a timely fashion.
Of course not.
Finally, he’d considered contacting Ian and asking him if he could talk to Gabriel. The two of them texted every few days, and Ian’s last report was that he and Gabriel were off diving somewhere in Malaysia. Stone decided he was being ridiculous—just because Gabriel was Kolinsky’s son didn’t mean he knew what his father was up to any more than Stone and Ian knew everything each other did.
Ah, well. Kolinsky would turn up eventually, and he’d ask him then. Until then, he had other things to do.
To his disappointment, those other things didn’t include working further with Jason. When he’d called to see if he and Amber might want to take him up on his dinner invitation to a Brazilian barbecue place, Amber had told him Jason was out of town for a few days.
“He just got a new case, and he’s down in L.A. tracing a guy whose company thinks he’s embezzling from them. It’s kind of a big deal, so he couldn’t turn it down. We’ll definitely go for it when he gets back, though, if that’s okay.”
“Absolutely. Let me know.” He hung up with a sigh. That old expression about ‘if it rains, it pours’ was certainly becoming the motto of his life lately, but the downside of that was that when it wasn’t raining, life got pretty quiet.
“You could use a little quiet,” Verity told him with a chuckle when he called her later that day. “Take it as a hint from the universe that maybe you could slow down for a while. You know as well as I do it won’t be long before things heat up again. You’re kind of a magnet for it, so it’s nice to get a break occasionally. Hey, I know—why don’t you go home for a few days? Get drunk with Eddie and Ward. Hang out with Aubrey. You know he’ll be glad to see you.”
That wasn’t a half-bad idea. Lately, it seemed as if the only time he ever went home was when he needed something. “You’ve got a point. I could stand a bit of stress-free relaxation.” He felt the tiniest twinge of regret that it would no longer be appropriate to invite her to accompany him, but it vanished faster than he’d feared it might. Although the breakup hadn’t been easy on either of them, he was increasingly convinced it had been the right thing to do. “I think I’ll do that. Thanks. I can always count on you to make just the right suggestion.”
“Yay me,” she said, chuckling. “Have fun, Doc. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
He hung up and reached across the desk to pet Raider, who had been watching the conversation with lazy interest. “What do you say, mate? Do you mind being on your own for two or three days?” Now that he’d perfected his magical feeding and watering devices, he no longer needed to employ a grad student for short trips. Raider enjoyed his own company, and never seemed to suffer from loneliness. In fact, Stone was fairly sure the cat liked to have the house to himself occasionally. Sort of like a bachelor’s weekend, only with kibble and sunbeam naps instead of action movies and beer.
Raider rubbed against his hand and purred.
“Okay, that’s sorted, then. I’ll just—”
The doorbell rang.
He glanced at his watch, frowning. It definitely too late for anyone trying to save his soul (they generally showed up in the morning). He wasn’t expecting any packages, and the house was too far from its neighbors for anyone to drop by wanting to borrow anything.
“Eh,” he told Raider as he headed down the stairs. “I probably ordered something and forgot about it with everything that’s been going on.”
When he opened the door, though, it was obvious this wasn’t some deliveryman dropping off a package.
In fact, at first glance, no one was there at all.
Stone narrowed his eyes, looking around for some kid running away. His house still had a reputation around the area for being haunted, so every now and then one of the local kids ventured into the yard for a closer look. But nobody had ever been brave enough to try a ding-dong-dash on him.
He was about to close the door in annoyance when he looked down.
Sitting on the mat was a large, cream-colored envelope.
Stone looked around again, this time with magical sight. He spotted no sign of any auras in the yard—not even birds or small animals. The envelope had no traces of magic on it.
He bent to pick it up, keeping his gaze fixed on the area around it. Shooing Raider back inside, he closed the door and examined it.
It was larger than a standard business letter—more like a large greeting card. There was nothing on the front. No address, no name, no stamp.
He turned it over. A blob of black wax with an embossed seal held it closed. He didn’t recognize the seal.
“That’s odd…” he murmured, heading into the living room. It wasn’t unheard of for him to get this kind of missive, but usually they came from Stefan Kolinsky. He knew Kolinsky’s personal seal, and this wasn’t it. Besides, Stefan usually had his messages delivered by a messenger who waited for a reply.
He studied it before he broke it, sharpening his focus to make sure there wasn’t any vestigial magic he hadn’t noticed. Seals could be trapped—it wasn’t something mages did much nowadays, but historically it was a good way to take out unwitting recipients. This one, though, didn’t even include any magical symbols or sigils—not ones he recognized, anyway. It looked like a stylized dragon
head in profile, surrounded by a looping, abstract border. Very British, actually. If you squinted a little, it could be the logo for a London pub.
Somehow, he doubted any London pubs were dropping off mysterious messages on his doorstep.
He didn’t feel foolish about putting up his shield before he opened the envelope. After everything that had occurred lately, it seemed a reasonable precaution. Tensing, expecting something to happen, he broke the seal and folded open the flap.
Nothing happened.
Stone let his breath out and relaxed, but he kept the shield up.
Inside was a single stiff card the same color as the envelope. It included a simple, embossed border, surrounding what looked like a blank expanse.
“Ah. So that’s the way it’s going to be.” He switched to magical sight.
Instantly, the blank space filled with text. Written in black ink in a formal, calligraphic hand, the message read:
The time has come for certain truths to be revealed.
Your presence is requested tonight at precisely nine p.m.
at a location to be disclosed in San Francisco.
Please do not be late.
Speaking the words “I accept this invitation” aloud constitutes your intent to be present, as well as an oath that you will reveal nothing about this invitation to any other person. The location will be revealed only when you have agreed to these terms.
Stone stared at the message, half-expecting it to fade away, but it did not.
“Bloody hell…” he murmured.
His presence was “requested”? It sounded more like “required” to him.
Who had sent it, and what did they want? Was it a trap?
Raider rubbed against his leg, but he barely noticed the cat’s presence as he continued to study the card. He didn’t recognize the handwriting, which wasn’t surprising. It was already nearly six p.m.—if he was going to attend this strange meeting, he’d need to decide soon. With traffic, it would take him at least an hour to get to San Francisco. He wondered if the meeting’s hosts had allowed him only a short time to make up his mind on purpose.
