by R. L. King
Resigning himself to not getting this particular question answered, he followed Kolinsky to the far side of the room.
“You may visit my shop tomorrow at your convenience,” Kolinsky said.
“I’ll be there.”
Before he could say anything else, darkness as thick and impenetrable as he’d experienced before settled over him.
The darkness lifted a few seconds later. Stone now stood in the familiar alley between the yoga studio and the vegan restaurant. A slight breeze wafted by, bringing with it the equally familiar smells of garbage, pot smoke, and diesel. The faint folk music from the restaurant was gone, which made sense. They were probably closed by now.
Stone paused, looking around at the dumpster, the mural, the drifts of trash, and the box, which now had a sleeping homeless man curled up inside it.
Normal sights.
Everyday sights.
Suddenly, everything he’d just experienced seemed more than ever like some kind of dream.
But yet, he reminded himself once again, it did explain a lot of things.
35
He slept badly, which didn’t surprise him. His mind often refused to slow down and let him rest when he was dealing with his usual problems—issues at the University, troubles with his magical or academic research, even Harrison and the rifts.
But this…
Every time he had himself convinced his life had reached the apex of strangeness, the Universe invited him to hold its beer.
He supposed he should be used to it by now.
He almost didn’t go to Kolinsky’s shop. In the cold light of morning, he wasn’t sure he wanted to go through with the challenge. Why should he—and if so, why now, necessarily? Dragons didn’t act quickly—a few more days wouldn’t hurt, right? Hell, Cassius would probably ruminate for years before he decided to do anything about the pesky scion who’d got the better of him—if he did anything at all. Stone felt he deserved at least a few days to digest everything he’d been told, to decide how he was going to incorporate this new information into his life, before he signed up for some new problem.
But, as usual, his curiosity won out over his trepidation.
He entered the shop a few minutes before noon. It looked the same as it always did, which was weird in and of itself. What did you expect? A cave full of gold? Piles of hobbit bones? Maybe Stefan was trying to help him deal with all this by presenting him with something ordinary. Hell, perhaps the two of them could have lunch somewhere after their discussion, in an attempt to return things to a state approximating normal. It probably wouldn’t work, and he’d still have to pay (some things, he suspected, would never change), but at least he’d get a good meal out of it.
Kolinsky was seated at his familiar roll-top desk. He looked up as Stone entered. “Good morning, Alastair. I hope you slept well.” His expression was the same as always, too: formal and courteous.
“I slept like rubbish, if you want the truth. But I’m guessing you probably already knew that.”
“I did suspect it,” the black mage admitted. “Regrettable, but probably expected.”
“Suspect.” Stone snorted. “I guess that’s good, knowing you’re not peering in my bedroom window, watching me sleep.” Should he even think of Stefan as a black mage anymore? Did dragons even have such a distinction, or was it all a big show as part of their human guises? Absurdly, a paraphrased snippet from a cartoon show Verity had shown him once popped into mind: “He wears a disguise to look like human guys, but he’s not a man, he’s a Dragon Boo.” It almost made him laugh out loud.
Kolinsky tilted his head. “Is something amusing?”
He waved it off. “Nothing. Never mind. So—why did you ask me to come here, instead of dealing with whatever it was last night? Have you got more secrets to tell me that you don’t want the others to hear?”
“No.” He closed the book he’d been reading and indicated the usual chair next to the desk. “Please, sit down.”
Stone would rather have paced, but he took the seat. “What, then?”
“Since you are here, I assume that means you have chosen to go through with the challenge.”
Last chance to back out.
But it wasn’t, really. It was too late for that. Cassius had almost killed him twice, and might have killed Harrison if it were even possible. “I suppose I have. What can I say—I’m a stickler for justice, apparently. Or else a glutton for punishment.”
“Or both.”
“Or both,” he allowed. “So—what do I need to do? You said you couldn’t help me—I assume this doesn’t count?”
Kolinsky regarded him somberly for several seconds, as if sizing him up. “We will get to that,” he said at last. “But first, I have two other things to say.”
“Be my guest. I’ve got nowhere else to be.”
He considered his words, then settled his gaze on Stone. “The first is this: I have valued our association over the last decade.”
“Er…so have I.” Where was he going with this? “You’re not telling me you’re ending it, are you? Or that you’re certain I’m making a huge mistake and I’ll be dead soon?”
“No. Neither of those is true. But in light of the new information you have received, I wish to offer you warnings I could not offer previously, assuming a positive outcome to the challenge.”
“Assuming I survive, you mean.” Stone leaned forward. “Warnings about what?”
“About Thalassa Nera and Morathi Ababio.”
“What about them?”
“Simply that I would advise you to tread carefully around both of them.”
That didn’t sound good. “Why? I mean, I got the impression Ms. Nera would love nothing better than to toss me in the nearest active volcano, but she can’t do that, can she? Scion immunity, and all that?”
“Correct. And I do not believe she would if she could. She is not specifically your enemy, but she is not your friend, either. If she were to approach you, examine her words carefully before agreeing to anything. Among dragons, one’s word is paramount. Once given, it cannot be broken without significant consequences. Do not give her yours without careful consideration.”
“I don’t give anybody my word without careful consideration. You should know that by now. But I’m not held to the same standards you lot are, am I? I’m not a dragon, just…dragon-adjacent, apparently.”
“I offer my advice, Alastair. Whether you choose to heed it is your decision.”
“All right. Thank you, then. I’ll keep it in mind if she should ever come to call. What about Morathi?”
“Morathi is…unusual. He is one of the older among us, and keeps his own counsel more than most. As you might have guessed, our society, if you want to call it that, is very formal. We rarely interact with each other, unless to deal with something that affects all of us. I was surprised he agreed to share information with you, and even more surprised that he decided to attend last night’s meeting personally. He has not been seen in many years.”
That didn’t sound good either. “What do you think he was after?”
“I am not certain, and that troubles me. You may never see him again, and as far as I know he doesn’t bear you the same animosity Thalassa does. But once again, if he does choose to approach you, have a care. Even more than most of the rest of us, he is a master strategist and highly adept at thinking many steps into the future.”
“Wait,” Stone said, frowning. “You said you’re not certain. That implies you have a guess.”
Kolinsky nodded approval. “I do.”
Stone wondered if his old friend would have admitted it if he hadn’t caught the nuance. He felt like he was being tested. That could get old in a hurry—but it could also sharpen his wits. He had a feeling he might need that, now more than ever. “Are you going to tell me what it is?”
“I believe he is interested in your mysterious associate.”
A little knot formed in the pit of Stone’s stomach. “My associate.”
“The man you spoke of during one of our previous conversations. The one who assisted you in closing the Colorado portal.”
And here he’d thought he’d managed to keep Harrison out of this whole situation. “What do you mean, interested?”
Kolinsky made a slight shrug. “I do not know. Once again, take it as a bit of advice you can choose to accept or ignore.”
“But I can’t tell him some extradimensional dragon chessmaster is interested in him.” Possibly more than one, if Cassius counts.
“No. I would not advise it.”
“Okay. Well…I’m not sure how helpful that is if I can’t tell him anything, but thanks for the heads-up.”
“I am interested in him as well,” Kolinsky admitted. “He is an enigma. There are few powerful mages on Earth we are not aware of.”
Stone didn’t miss the subtle emphasis on ‘on Earth,’ but didn’t let the reaction reach his face. “Secrets, Stefan. You’ve got yours, I’ve got mine, and he’s got his. Better they stay separated, I think. I’m tired of being the soft center crushed between two stubborn rocks—maybe more than two now.”
“Fair enough.” Kolinsky settled back in his chair, conceding the point—for now, at least.
“Is that all, then? Warnings about Thalassa and Morathi?”
“No. There is one other thing.”
It seemed like there was always one more thing. “Yes?”
“Let us discuss the challenge first, as the two are related.” He settled a steady gaze on Stone, and his tone took on the calm, inexorable aspect of a judge. “Do you formally state that you intend to challenge Cassius under your right as a scion whom he has unlawfully attacked?”
Stone took a breath. “I do.”
“Do you swear, under oath and under penalty of death if you speak falsehood, that the dragon known as Cassius attacked you without provocation?”
Stone met his gaze. “Assuming you were truthful that the man who attacked me is indeed the dragon Cassius, then yes. He attacked me without provocation, while my back was turned. My associate used magic against him, but I did not.”
Kolinsky inclined his head. “Then the first step is that you must offer him challenge.”
“How do I do that? I haven’t got a clue where to find him.”
“He maintains a primary home deep in the Swiss Alps, in a location inaccessible to both air and ground vehicles.”
“Bloody hell,” Stone murmured. “There’s no public portal anywhere near there. And I’m guessing I won’t have access to a private one.”
“No.”
“I’m also guessing sending him a letter through the post, or a text, won’t do the job.”
“They will not. The challenge must be delivered in person.”
“So I’ve—what—got to take a portal to Zurich and then find my way to some hidden location in the middle of the Alps?” And that was just the first step. The easy step.
He wondered again if someday he’d stop letting his mouth—and his pride—get away from him.
Kolinsky studied him. “Neither I nor any of the others can aid you once the challenge has been delivered and sealed. But I can give you some small measure of assistance prior to that.”
“What’s that mean? Are you going to lend me your long-range carrier pigeon?”
“As you mentioned last night,” he said with care, “our association has always been characterized by a certain quid pro quo.”
“Yes…” Stone narrowed his eyes. “I hope you’re not trying to tell me I owe you something for last night. I didn’t ask for you lot to drop all that on me. I’m still not sure I wouldn’t be better off not knowing it.”
Kolinsky raised a hand. “No. Nothing of the sort. That information was given freely, after a long period of careful consideration. No…in fact, I propose to offer you something. You seemed hesitant last night when I mentioned the possibility of aiding us in certain tasks.”
“Of course I did.” Stone snorted. “You know, even after all this, I’m still not certain I entirely believe this whole dragon thing. I don’t imagine you’d lie to me, but you’ve got to admit, you haven’t shown me anything concrete to make me buy it, either. I’ve always known you and Madame Huan were powerful mages, and suspected you were a lot older than you looked. But that doesn’t make any of you dragons.”
Before Kolinsky could reply, he shook his head. “But, silly old gullible me, I do believe you. Your story’s far too round the twist to be anything but true. You could have picked any number of more plausible things to try fooling me with, but you went with giant extradimensional space lizards. So yes, I believe you, even though you haven’t shown me a shred of proof.”
Kolinsky still didn’t say anything. He continued watching Stone, clearly waiting for him to finish.
“And,” Stone said, “as far as helping you out—I don’t know. Putting aside the whole challenge thing and whether I come out of it with all my limbs intact and my questionable sanity in place, I’d need a lot more information before I make up my mind. Also, it would definitely be on a case-by-case basis. Maybe you’re right: maybe it would be right up my alley, especially if it gets me involved with new magical phenomena. I’d be daft to try telling you that doesn’t intrigue me. But I’ll tell you this: if I do end up getting involved, it’ll be because you or Madame Huan ask me to. You can tell Thalassa and Morathi to stay the hell away from me.”
“Yes. I think that is reasonable.” Kolinsky didn’t seem ruffled or annoyed. “But that is irrelevant at present, because neither I nor Madame Huan have any requests for you. Instead, I offer you something merely for giving them consideration if and when the time should come. Something you might find useful to your challenge…and beyond.”
“Offer me what?” Stone asked suspiciously. “And what do you mean, ‘merely for giving them consideration’? That’s not your usual style, Stefan.”
“Some of the variables in our association have changed. And I promise you: my offer has no conditions. You asked before for proof of what we’ve told you. We cannot give you that. But I can give you something that might at least partially suffice, and that I promise you will find useful.”
“Okay…you’ve definitely got me intrigued now. What is it?”
Kolinsky rose from his chair and began pacing the room, pausing every now and then to examine something on the wall or on his work table. “You are familiar, of course, with ley lines.”
Stone frowned. What an odd and unexpected thing for him to say. “Of course I am.” He made no effort to conceal his confusion.
“You are aware, also, that they, and similar phenomena, are known by many other names.”
“Of course.” Stone couldn’t hide his impatience. “Come on, Stefan—this is Magic Theory 101 stuff. Spirit lines, gaia lines, meridians, song lines, fairy paths…”
He stopped.
Kolinsky turned from his work table and looked at him expectantly.
“…Dragon lines.”
Kolinsky inclined his head.
Stone swallowed. “I’m guessing you’re going to tell me that’s relevant. What—did you lot have something to do with creating them?”
“No. They have existed far longer than we have been here. But we have ways of making use of them that are not available to humans. Most humans, in any case.”
Stone wasn’t sure what to say. The familiar lump was forming in his stomach again, but this time it wasn’t fear, or apprehension.
It was excitement.
“What…do you mean?” he asked carefully.
“You have wondered on numerous occasions how I often seem to be in my shop, or readily available, when you have need of me.”
“Yes…” Stone stood, unable to remain still any longer. “I assumed you had a private portal hidden somewhere. I always thought that was how Madame Huan traveled so easily between all her shops. Is that not the case?”
“It is not. Traveling by means of the Overworld is convenient in its way, but…ineffici
ent.”
“Inefficient.”
“Limited. In order to make use of it, one must create expensive and complex gateways at each end.”
“Yes, I’m aware,” Stone said dryly. “I’ve been wrestling with trying to create one in my basement for the past several months.” He stopped. “Wait. Are you saying…you travel another way? And it’s got something to do with ley lines?”
“Yes.”
“And…” His voice dropped to a whisper, as he refused to allow himself to hope this was going where he thought it was. “…and you could show me how to do it as well?”
“Yes. As a scion, you possess the necessary prerequisite.”
Stone swallowed hard again. His heart beat faster. When he spoke, his voice shook. “How…does it work? Are you saying you…use ley lines like we use portals?”
Kolinsky seemed pleased at his reaction, though of course he didn’t smile. “Just so. We can travel to any point along any ley line, in the same way you use your travel portals. There are some limitations, of course: for example, we cannot easily travel to warded locations we do not control, and if you should choose to learn the technique, I would advise you not to attempt doing so at all. We must take care not to end our journey in inhospitable terrain: under water, inside rock, and so forth. And obviously we are limited to those areas where ley lines exist. This can prove inconvenient when appropriate alternate transportation is not available nearby.”
Stone was barely listening. Bloody hell. Traveling by ley line. “Stefan…” he whispered. “Please tell me you’re not having me on. I don’t think I could take that right now.”
Kolinsky’s eyebrow rose. “Have I ever done such a thing?”
He hadn’t, it was true. “I could…use this to reach wherever Cassius is, given that I’m certain his place has got to be on at least one ley line?”
“You can, yes. You cannot use it to enter his home, as of course it is heavily warded.”
“But I could turn up on his doorstep.” Stone gave a mirthless chuckle. “That ought to give him a bit of pause.”
