Homecoming: An Alastair Stone Urban Fantasy Novel (Alastair Stone Chronicles Book 23)

by R. L. King

  “That’s not a good idea,” Madame Huan said. She looked worried. “He is young, and nowhere close to the strongest among us, but he is still dangerous. With all your power, you’re still human.”

  Am I? Stone wondered if that was even true anymore, after Calanar. “He won’t give up, Madame Huan. He’s like a dog on the scent, and he won’t rest until he’s got his answers. I’m not spending the rest of my life looking over my shoulder for him. He’s already proven what he thinks of your protocols.”

  Kolinsky’s face looked like a stern statue. “Alastair, we cannot allow—”

  “Wait.”

  Stone glanced sideways, surprised. The voice had come from the far side of the table, next to Madame Huan. Morathi Ababio was looking at him with an odd, probing gaze.

  “What is it?” Kolinsky asked.

  “There is a way.”

  34

  Madame Huan’s eyes narrowed. “No. Morathi, it isn’t—”

  “It is part of the protocols. If we are sharing information with him, he has a right to know all of the relevant details.”

  Stone waved. “Oi. I’m right here. Stop talking about me like I’m somewhere else. What are you on about?”

  The four exchanged glances, and after a moment Kolinsky spoke with reluctance. “There is a portion of our agreements that might cover this case. But I advise against invoking it.”

  “Tell me what it is.” Stone’s heartbeat increased, and part of him wondered what he was getting himself into. The old cliché about his mouth writing checks his arse couldn’t cash came to mind. But it wouldn’t be the first time—not even close. “I want to hear it.”

  “You are correct,” Madame Huan said, looking even more reluctant than Kolinsky, “that our protocols allow for punishing transgressors—but that punishment can come only after a lengthy examination of all the particulars of the case.” She chuckled ruefully. “Our justice makes even the slowest of human courts look speedy by comparison.”

  “That does a fat load of good when some dragon’s tried to make a light meal of a scion, and he’s hungry for another bite.” It still sounded weird to Stone’s ears to say dragon out loud—like he’d suddenly been transported into a fantasy novel. What was next? Orcs? Faeries? Enchanted swords? “The victim will be dead of natural causes before you lot get your act together and do something.”

  “Quite likely true,” she admitted. “Hence the portion of the agreement Stefan and Morathi refer to. It is a small part, insignificant and…well, to be honest, I never believed it was included in good faith.”

  “What’s that mean—not in good faith?”

  “No one ever expected it to be invoked,” Kolinsky said. “Because little chance existed for it to provide the remedy it purported to offer.”

  Stone wondered if this was how Jason felt when he went off on one of his professorly lectures. “English, Stefan. Dumb it down for the blokes with hangovers in the back row.”

  Kolinsky’s eyes narrowed. “Simply this: there is a stipulation where a wronged scion may seek retribution for an attack on his or her own person.”

  Stone tilted his head. “But how is that possible? I thought you said the scions don’t even know they’re scions.”

  “Hence my statement.”

  “I don’t remember the details of why it was included,” Madame Huan said. “All of us were present when the agreements were drawn up, of course, but it was a very long time ago. We rarely have to invoke any of them anymore, because at this point in history, all of us have sufficiently solidified our spheres of influence so as to rarely require any sort of mediation between us. Perhaps someone believed that, at some point, one or more of the scions might be made aware of their status. I honestly cannot tell you, and I don’t believe any of the rest of us can either.” She looked around at the others, who didn’t reply.

  Stone chuckled mirthlessly as he glanced between Kolinsky and Thalassa Nera. “So that’s what governed whatever understanding you two came to about my little excursion into your home.”

  Neither one answered, and he didn’t think it was wise to push it. “Okay. Well, this sounds like just the thing, then. What do I have to do?”

  “It is not so easy as that,” Kolinsky said. “There are still formal rules that must be followed.”

  “What, I find a second, smack old Blondie in the face with a glove, and we duel at dawn? Fireballs at twenty paces?”

  “He does not even take us seriously,” Thalassa snapped. “I see no reason to accommodate him.”

  “It is his right,” Kolinsky said. “If the protection of our protocols required a mild and respectful demeanor, I doubt many of us—present company included—would be eligible.”

  Thalassa shot him a look full of knives, but subsided.

  Madame Huan chuckled again.

  Stone waited, sensing this wasn’t the time for his input.

  “The first thing you must understand,” Kolinsky said, and now he looked calm and serious as he faced Stone again, “is that we cannot help you. If you choose to do this, you do it of your own accord, and with your own resources. Our protocols prevent us from involving ourselves directly.”

  Stone nodded. “Fair enough. That means he can’t involve anyone else either, correct?”

  “Of course,” Madame Huan said.

  “But like I said before, he’s already proven he’s not good at following rules.”

  “He will follow this one,” Morathi said. “Some of our penalties are swifter and more final than others.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  “Death,” Kolinsky intoned. “If he agrees to your challenge, both of you are bound to comport yourselves with honor, as by oath.”

  Stone’s heartbeat increased again. “So this is a fight to the death, then?”

  “Not necessarily,” Madame Huan said. “The challenge is prescribed, but the scion chooses the terms of victory. The oath is invoked only if either side acts with dishonor.”

  Once more, Stone wondered if he was going down a road better left unexplored. “You said the challenge is prescribed. What is it?”

  “It is a battle of wills, designed to test both sides’ strength of mind, body, and magic,” Kolinsky said.

  “That doesn’t tell me much.”

  “I cannot give you the details until you have decided whether you wish to offer challenge. Each one is different, tailored to the individual combatants.”

  “That’s convenient. That’s part of the protocols too, I take it.”

  “It is.”

  “But the scion’s got a chance, right? Obviously scions aren’t immortal—otherwise my ancestors would still be alive. So you lot have a pretty big advantage if it’s a straight contest of strength.”

  “The challenge is constructed in such a way that both sides have a chance for victory,” Kolinsky said with care.

  “But not necessarily an equal one.”

  “I would say not. This challenge has never been invoked before.”

  “And what happens when it’s over? What does the winner get?”

  “That is decided between the combatants. If the battle is not to the death, the winner can claim a prize, and the vanquished party must acquiesce.”

  “Or what?”

  Kolinsky’s expression was grim. “The oath with regard to honorable participation remains in effect.”

  “So…we’re back to death.”

  “Yes. This is why I urge you to rethink your intentions.”

  Stone considered. Kolinsky had a point. He didn’t have to do this. He could go after the blond man on his own terms if he chose—or not. The man (the dragon, he reminded himself again—can’t ever forget that) hadn’t come after him before—why did he assume he would this time? The portal was closed now; he might not even consider Stone worth his time at this point.

  But then again, the dragon could turn up at some unexpected future date and try to end it—or coerce him into revealing more information about where the Colorado rift
had pointed. He had no idea how well he could stand up to a dragon’s attempt at coercion.

  “Let me think about it,” he said at last. “I’ve got a few more questions I want to get through first, if I may.”

  That was the understatement of the year. He had so many things he wanted to know, rushing around so fast inside his head that he was having trouble picking one out. He doubted these four would be patient enough to sit here all night answering them, so he’d best hit the most important ones first.

  None of them spoke, so he took that as assent. A question popped to the top of the stack, and he blurted it out before it darted away. “Stefan—your son. Gabriel. Is he a scion too?” He had a sudden vision of dignified, stuffy Kolinsky doing the horizontal tango with some comely young human mage, but scrubbed it quickly from his mind’s eye. It was almost as bad as thinking about your parents having sex.

  “No.”

  “So…he’s a dragon? He was exiled with you?”

  “Yes.” Clearly, Kolinsky was in full “Joe Friday” mode now: Just the facts, ma’am.

  Stone could work with that, as long as the answers kept coming. His heart pounded faster. He glanced at his watch; it was already ten-thirty. He’d been here an hour and a half. It didn’t feel like that long. Time flies when you’re having your life turned arse over teakettle. Again. And you’ve still got to decide if you want to go forward with the challenge. “What happens if two dragons get together here on Earth, in human form? Does that happen?”

  “That is not your concern,” Morathi said. “There is no need for us to share with you all the intimate details of our lives.”

  Stone glanced at Kolinsky, who seemed inclined to agree with him. “That’s fair. Forgive me for being overly inquisitive, but if you know me at all, you know that’s sort of baked into my DNA. I won’t be offended if you slap me with a rolled-up newspaper and tell me to mind my own business.” Still, he made a mental note to ask Madame Huan about it later—assuming she turned up anywhere he could find her after this.

  He focused on Kolinsky again. “This part is my business, though, since your son is my son’s magic teacher…among other things. Does Ian know? Has Gabriel told him?”

  “No,” Kolinsky said instantly. “He has not told him, nor will he unless a situation such as yours arises. Certainly not without agreement among at least a subset of us.”

  “Does Gabriel know you’re telling me? You’ve got to understand, I’ve seriously considered making a scorecard to help me keep track of who knows what about whom. It’s getting to be a real problem.”

  “He does know, yes.”

  Ah, so the estranged father and son might have spoken recently after all. Stone wondered why Gabriel wasn’t here. “Did he not approve?”

  “He…does not have an opinion. There are not many of us of his generation, but for the most part they have…I believe the expression is ‘gone native.’ They have no interest in involving themselves in our affairs. As long as they abide by the most basic of our agreements, we do not insist they do.”

  Stone got the impression of disapproval, so he didn’t push it. The last thing he wanted to do right now was get involved in some other dragons’ family disputes. Aldwyn was enough all on his own.

  Suddenly, he felt exhausted. He realized he’d been tense for most of the evening, caught between warring states of intrigue, astonishment, and disbelief. He spread his hands, sitting up straighter in his chair. “I think that’s about it, for now at least. I…honestly still don’t know what else to say. I suppose I should thank you for telling me all this, for answering a lot of questions I didn’t even realize I had. Just one more, if I may.”

  “Of course,” Madame Huan said. She was still looking at him like a half-proud, half-worried grandmother.

  He swept his gaze over each of them in turn. “So you’ve told me all this. What do you want?”

  He expected one of them to ask him what he meant, but none did. “Why do you believe we want something?” Kolinsky asked.

  “Because you always want something.” He stood, pushing the chair back. “It’s always an ulterior motive with you, Stefan. Quid pro quo. You scratch my back, I scratch yours. It’s the basis for our entire relationship. So, what’s in it for you? I notice you haven’t insisted I swear an oath not to reveal anything you’ve told me, and I’m certain that’s not an oversight.”

  Something resembling approval flashed briefly across Kolinsky’s face—and not just his. Morathi’s and Thalassa’s, too.

  “Nothing…at the moment,” Kolinsky said. “And you needn’t be concerned—there will be no attempt at coercion of any kind. You have my word on that. But with this knowledge in place, it might be possible in the future for you to aid us.”

  Uh oh. “Aid you how? I find it hard to believe there’s much you lot can’t do if you put your minds to it.”

  “You might be surprised. In any case, all we ask at this point is for you to retain…an open mind. Little will change, fundamentally, when you leave this place tonight. I will return to my familiar shop. The others will return to their homes and their lives, and much will continue as it has before. But the world is changing, Alastair. Slowly…and in some cases not so slowly. Magic is growing. The frequency of the rift intersections is increasing. Other changes are coming. And at some point—perhaps soon, perhaps not—these changes will become more visible, to the point where they will be impossible to hide. We do not permit ourselves to become directly involved. But—”

  Ah, so that was where this was going. “—but having a human agent—I’ll be polite and not say ‘pawn’—you can call on to deal with flare-ups of whatever these changes are could prove convenient. Keeps you from having to break your agreement by getting directly involved.”

  “Potentially, yes.” Kolinsky offered the tiniest, barest hint of a wolfish smile. “And with what I know of you, you may well find our requests to be firmly within your area of interest. Assisting in these areas could likely prove as useful to you as to us.”

  Well. Life just keeps getting more bizarre, doesn’t it?

  Stone looked the four of them over again. “I’ll…think about it. That’s all I’ll say. And you don’t need to worry about my spilling the beans to anyone else. No one would believe me anyway. They’d think I was a raving nutter—even the mages. You probably already know that, which is why you haven’t asked for an oath.”

  Once again, nobody answered—but they didn’t need to.

  Kolinsky stood. “If you have no further questions, Alastair, I believe we have come to the end of our discussion for this evening.”

  Just like that. Like they were a group of Rotarians or Oddfellows getting together for lodge night, and now it was time to head home to the wife, the dog, and a pre-bedtime nightcap. “Except for the elephant in the room. I’m getting to that. But if I choose not to challenge this bloke—what’s his name, by the way? I should be allowed to know that, at least, since he obviously knows mine.”

  The four looked at each other again. “His name is Cassius,” Kolinsky said.

  “Cassius. If I choose not to challenge him, is this the last time I’m allowed to bring any of this up, once I leave here? You’ve dropped the information on me, and now everything will go on like nothing’s happened?”

  “Of course not,” Madame Huan said. “If you have more questions, I’m sure Stefan and I will do our best to answer them—within the limits of what we can discuss, of course. Neither of us is going anywhere.”

  That was good, because he still barely knew Morathi, and he didn’t see himself popping by Thalassa Nera’s high-rise penthouse in New York City for a cup of tea any time soon.

  They were all watching him now, with even more intensity than before. Even without magical sight active, he couldn’t miss the tension in the room. They were all waiting for his next words.

  “Right, then,” he said briskly, before he gave himself time to overthink it. “What do I do about placing a formal challenge? Do I need to fi
ll out forms in triplicate? Wait in a queue somewhere? Send a ceremonial pigeon?”

  Madame Huan lowered her gaze.

  Thalassa glared.

  Kolinsky sighed. “You must go to him and formally issue the challenge.”

  “And how do I do that? I don’t even know where he is.”

  Kolinsky paused, glancing at the others. “If you truly wish to do this, come to my shop tomorrow. I hope you will come to your senses before then, but if not, I will aid you in the proper procedure. There is no need to take everyone’s time with it tonight.”

  “Brilliant.” Stone knew he was sounding a lot more confident than he felt, and suspected they knew it, but still he forged ahead. He was hardly defenseless, and he’d beaten Cassius before.

  “Well, then.” He nodded to each of them. “It’s been…an enlightening evening. Weird, but enlightening. Now, if you’ll just show me where the door is, I’ll say my good-nights and leave you to it.”

  “There is no door,” Kolinsky said. “You will be returned in the same way you arrived.”

  Ah. Right. It wasn’t surprising that a bunch of ridiculously powerful dragon mages had access to all sorts of private portals nobody else knew about. “Fine. Let’s go. Where are we, by the way?”

  Kolinsky raised a hand, sweeping open the heavy curtains covering the window behind the table. Through the wide, floor-to-ceiling window, the early-morning sun picked out a breathtakingly beautiful scene of jagged, snowcapped mountains against a deep blue sky.

  Stone studied it, but didn’t recognize it. From the apparent time, it was probably somewhere in Europe. “Not San Francisco anymore.”

  “No.”

  “Okay, I won’t ask.”

  “Best that you don’t. Come.”

  Stone wondered how Kolinsky would handle the trip back. If the room had no door, there must be an illusion-concealed portal somewhere nearby. He shifted to magical sight and tried to spot it, but saw no sign.