Gathering Storm: An Alastair Stone Urban Fantasy Novel (Alastair Stone Chronicles Book 17)

by R. L. King

  Hardly the mark of a pair who’d casually pop in and out of each other’s shops—which meant there had to be some urgency around Kolinsky’s heads-up to Madame Huan.

  A sudden, chilling thought gripped Stone. He fired up the BMW and drove as quickly as he could get away with back to East Palo Alto, mentally cursing every other car on the road to get out of his way. He parked directly in front of Kolinsky’s shop and ran to the door, but he already knew what he’d find when he got there.

  The door was locked, and the familiar sign behind the wards indicated that Kolinsky was away, and would be for the foreseeable future.

  “Bugger!” Stone yelled, slamming his fist on the wall so hard it hurt. “Gods damn you, Stefan, what are you up to?”

  Two young men walking by on the street glanced at him nervously and picked up their pace to get past him.

  Stone rubbed his face, shoving his hair up, and considered his options. He knew from past experience that if Kolinsky didn’t want to be found, he had no option there. Even though he knew where the black mage’s home (or one of them, anyway) was, he likewise knew that if Kolinsky was avoiding him, he wouldn’t respond there either.

  He stalked back to the car, slammed the door shut behind him, and let his breath out.

  What now?

  You could just give it up, you know, said a little voice inside his head.

  Don’t be ridiculous. Something’s going on, and I’m going to find out what it is.

  Yes, but two powerful people you trust are giving you a fairly good hint that you should stay away from it. Maybe they know something you don’t?

  So why don’t they just tell me then? If they’ve got a good reason I should stay away from this, all they’d have to do is share it with me.

  Would that stop you?

  He didn’t answer right away. Would it?

  If rifts were opening in random locations, causing trouble with the local mundane population, why would anyone think it was a good thing to simply leave them to it?

  Another chill went through him.

  Kolinsky and Madame Huan were both powerful mages—certainly more powerful than he’d been pre-Calanar, and probably still more so now. He was sure they were both considerably older than he was, and had a lot more experience with magical phenomena. He didn’t doubt for an instant that both of them had access to resources he wasn’t even aware of. Both of them had always seemed almost to operate on another plane of power than even the most potent mages Stone had met—people like William Desmond and possibly even Trevor Harrison.

  What if they simply didn’t care how the rifts affected mundanes?

  Stone sighed. He could believe that about Kolinsky, but not about Madame Huan. If the two of them were conspiring to keep this information from him, there had to be another reason.

  If he was going to find out what it was without their help, he’d need to change his approach.

  He pulled out his phone and punched Verity’s number. “Are you busy?” he asked when she picked up.

  “Uh—no, not really. Just doing some last-minute packing and cleanup before this weekend. What’s going on?”

  “Will you come by the house this evening? I have a dilemma, and I need a sounding board. Perhaps the fact that half the time I can’t follow your thought processes will help in this situation.”

  “Doc, you give the nicest invitations.” He could hear the wry smile in her voice. “Yeah, sure. See you then.”

  29

  Verity’s eyes narrowed in concern when he opened the door to her later that evening. “You don’t look so good. Are you okay?”

  “I…don’t know.” He trudged back inside, leading her to the living room. Raider perched on the sofa, watching both of them warily. “Have you eaten? I could have something delivered if you like, or I’ve got—”

  “No, it’s okay, I’m good. Doc, what’s wrong?” She steered him to the sofa. “You look like something’s really bothering you. What’s this dilemma you mentioned on the phone?”

  Stone sighed. He’d been trying ever since he got home to quiet his mind enough to work through the problem on his own, to try to see some aspect of it he’d missed before, but all he’d succeeded in doing was stressing himself out even more. Sometimes, when faced with a problem he couldn’t solve, his mind seized up and refused to function properly, leaving him with no other choice than to put the matter aside for a while and hope the diversion was sufficient to break the barrier. He’d gone for a run around Encantada earlier, but it hadn’t helped.

  “Is it still the business with the rifts?”

  “Yes. There’s been a new development, just today, and I’ve no idea what to think about it.” He raised his hand and levitated a bottle of scotch and two glasses to the table from the liquor cabinet, poured, and took a healthy swallow. “I went to see Stefan, hoping he might have some insight.”

  “And did he?”

  “Yes…and no.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  Wearily, he told her about his conversation with Kolinsky. By the time he was done, his glass was empty. Raider sniffed at it, and he contemplated pouring another.

  She stared at him. “So you think he knows what’s going on, but he won’t tell you?”

  “Yes. And I can’t work out why. I essentially offered him anything I could provide, and he still refused. That’s not at all like him. And it gets worse.” He did pour another glass then, and told her about his trip to Madame Huan’s place.

  “Wait.” She still hadn’t touched her glass. “So you’re saying you think Stefan went to Madame Huan’s and—what—warned her you were coming, so she could get out of there before you could ask her about this?”

  “That’s exactly what I think, as absurd as it sounds.”

  “But why would he do that? It sounds like both of them know what’s going on, and for whatever reason they don’t want to tell you.”

  “And now you see my dilemma. Not only am I at an impasse trying to locate any more of these rifts so I can—I don’t know what the hell I should do about them, to be honest—now two of my most reliable sources of information about the magical world seem to be conspiring to keep me in the dark.” He narrowed his eyes, and felt himself tense. “And I don’t like it. Not one bit.”

  “So what will you do about it? It sounds like you can’t hunt down either one of them, right?”

  “Right. If they don’t want to be found, they could be anywhere. Hell, Madame Huan could have gone back to China to get away from me, if she’s trying.”

  “What about Mr. Harrison?”

  “He’s not available either. I called Nakamura today and asked, but he hasn’t seen him for a long time.”

  “Do you think he’s avoiding you too?”

  Stone hadn’t thought about that. “Hmm…possibly, but he’s always difficult to get hold of. This isn’t anything new for him. I’m inclined to think not unless some new development pops up.”

  She stroked Raider, who was sitting on her as she leaned back. “So it sounds like your two angles here are either to find someone who knows what’s going on and will tell you, or else tracking down more of these rifts so you can study them, right?”

  “Yes, those do seem to be the most logical next steps.”

  “And you don’t know any other mages who might know, right?”

  “No. I’ve already got Eddie and Ward hunting through the archives at Caventhorne and the London library looking for any references to odd magical anomalies, but so far they’ve come up with nothing.”

  She got up, gently evicting Raider from her lap, and paced the room, staring out the window into the darkened front yard. For a long time she said nothing, but then she turned back to him with a contemplative look.

  He sat up straighter. “Have you got something?”

  “Probably not. But I’m trying to think about why Stefan and Madame Huan would even know about stuff like this. You said they’re both really old, right?”

  “To be honest, I�
��ve no idea. I get the distinct impression they’ve been around for some time—Madame Huan doesn’t look a day older than she did when I was an apprentice, for example, and I don’t think Stefan’s aged in the ten years I’ve known him—but I’ve got no proof of that.”

  She nodded, as if distracted. “Let’s go with that for a minute. If they are really old and they know about magic, could it mean they know about these rift things because they’ve seen them before?”

  Stone considered. It was a line of reasoning he hadn’t examined. “I suppose it’s possible. You’re suggesting these rifts might have opened up previously?”

  “Who knows? I’m just free-associating, hoping something will lead you somewhere you haven’t been before.” She turned back to the window. “But let’s keep going with that. If these things have been around before, and those two know about them—then maybe others did too. Maybe somebody noticed them if this has happened before.”

  “Possible,” Stone said again. “But I don’t see where you’re going with this.”

  “Me neither, not entirely. But I’m thinking if you haven’t got any chance of finding Stefan or Madame Huan to talk to and you don’t know any other mages as old as they are, maybe hunting through old archives is the way to go.”

  He sighed. “But I told you—we’re already doing that. I spent several hours going through the library at my place, and Eddie and Ward haven’t turned up anything in any of their or Desmond’s reference books yet.”

  She plopped back down on the sofa next to him with an even louder sigh. “Yeah…that’s what you said. I know. And I know how good Eddie is at finding stuff like that. If it was in one of those books, then—” She stopped, going stiff. “Wait!”

  “What?”

  “Well…what if he can’t find it in books because it isn’t in a book?”

  “I don’t follow.”

  “You said these rifts were popping up in random places, right? Near ley line convergences?”

  “Yes…”

  “What if the information’s not in a book, but on a map somewhere?”

  “I’ve already checked all my ley line maps, but I haven’t found anything unusual.”

  “No, that’s not what I mean.” She gripped his arm. “Have you got any really old maps at your place or Caventhorne? Maybe if this has happened before—especially if it happens in specific spots—somebody might have marked the locations on one of them.”

  Stone stared at her in amazement, then spun and took her by the shoulders. “Verity! You’re brilliant! That’s a brilliant idea. I hadn’t even thought to check other maps, after I didn’t turn up anything on my usual ley line ones.” He kissed her. “Oh, bloody hell, I need to get back home. I’ve got loads of old maps at the house, and I know there are more at Caventhorne and in the library.”

  She grinned. “See, that’s why you keep me around, Doc.”

  “Indeed it is. The only reason, in fact.”

  “Yeah, I always thought so. You’re not leaving now, are you? It’s like three in the morning in England.”

  He wanted to. Now that he had new information to investigate, his body thrummed with nervous energy. But she was right—there was nothing to be gained by heading over now. Whatever this was, it had been going on for some time, and it could go on until tomorrow. “That depends. Can you stay?”

  A slow, sly smile spread across her face. “Not to look through dusty old maps.”

  “Oh, believe me, that’s suddenly the last thing I’ve got on my mind at the moment.” He took her in his arms and hugged her tight. “But seriously, Verity—thank you. No doubt I would have arrived at that brainwave soon enough, but you might have saved some lives by getting me there faster.”

  “Just be careful. If Stefan and Madame Huan are trying to keep you from finding out about this, it might be because they want to keep you safe.”

  “That’s the charitable thought. Or it might be that they’ve got something to gain from letting it continue. That’s why I want to get to the bottom of it. I hope it doesn’t lose me two powerful friends, but I don’t like being kept in the dark.” He raised an eyebrow. “Most of the time, anyway. Right now, the dark sounds quite nice.”

  30

  Stone called Laura at the University in the morning and told her he needed to take a personal day. He felt a bit guilty about it, but weighing the potential harm the rifts could do against his students’ having to put up with a TA for a day or two took care of that.

  “You sure you don’t want me to come with you?” Verity asked as they sat at the kitchen table sipping coffee. It was early for Stone to be awake, but he’d found it difficult to sleep as his brain continued chewing over possible locations for maps.

  “No, you’d be bored senseless. This is the sort of thing Eddie and Ward love to do, so they won’t mind helping. You keep going with your packing. The move’s this weekend, right?”

  “Yep. I’ve got Kyla and Hezzie lined up to help me with the last of it, so you’re off the hook.”

  He shot her a mock-indignant glare. “What, you don’t think I can carry boxes?”

  “Oh, sure I do, especially since you’ve been hitting the gym. You’ve been doing a great job keeping it up, by the way. Jason and I had a little bet that you’d slack off.”

  Stone didn’t ask which one of them had bet against him. “Off you go, then,” he grumbled. “I’ve got things to do, and so do you.”

  She kissed him with a grin. “Let me know how it goes.”

  After she left, he gathered what he’d need before leaving. As he reached the front door, he paused, thinking about the morning commute traffic he’d invariably be stuck in on the way down to Sunnyvale. Things would certainly be a lot more convenient if he had his own personal portal at the house.

  It occurred to him that the two major reasons why he’d never seriously considered building his own portal no longer applied. First, when he’d lived in the townhouse in Palo Alto, he’d been renting. Portals—permanent ones, anyway—weren’t movable, and he could hardly build a persistent magical structure in the basement of a place he didn’t even own. That had put the whole matter out of the question all on its own.

  The second reason had been cost. The materials needed for a private portal were beyond the financial means of all but the wealthiest mages. When portals were built at all anymore—and they almost never were these days—they were almost always the result of a group of local mages getting together to pool funds, either to add one to a geographical area that wasn’t served by the current network, or to build one for the use of some private association.

  Stone didn’t have that problem anymore. He’d never exactly been poor, but before William Desmond had died and bequeathed him a sizable fortune, the materials would have strained his means to the point where it wasn’t practical.

  Now, though, all that had changed. He owned his own home—one that included numerous locations where he could conceal a portal room behind wards and illusions—and he had enough spare funds to turn a “someday maybe” proposition into a reality. He already had the knowledge to build the thing himself, after all. He’d have to brush up a bit since he was out of practice, but he was confident that wouldn’t be a problem.

  Also, it would make popping back and forth to England a lot more convenient. He could still go to A Passage to India now and then to visit Marta, but he wouldn’t have to fight traffic and drive for a minimum of half an hour every time he needed to head over there for some minor reason.

  “Right, then,” he said to Raider as he opened the door. “I’ll give that some thought. After I’ve sorted out this whole rift thing, anyway. You be good.”

  He took the portal straight through to Caventhorne, emerging in the familiar basement room. He’d already phoned Eddie and Ward to let them know to expect him, so he headed immediately to the main library where he knew he’d find them.

  The two of them, along with Kerrick, had done an exemplary job in preparing the place for its eventual use as
a resource center for the world’s magical community. When Stone had first heard that part of Desmond’s will, he’d been doubtful about whether it would be possible. Caventhorne was a massive, rambling place, full of hidden areas, warded caches of magical books and artifacts, and a fortune’s worth of antiques, artifacts, and old-world décor. In his later years, Desmond had spent more time in the London house—the one Stone now owned—and commuted through a pair of private portals to Hertfordshire when necessary; in the meantime, the place had been maintained by a skeleton staff whose only jobs had been to keep the place cleaned, dusted, and presentable when its master was absent.

  For the past several months, Eddie and Ward had been spending nearly all their time going through the books and artifacts, deciding with Stone’s help which would be made available to researchers and which would be kept private, either at Caventhorne itself or at Stone’s Surrey house. Because Desmond had left his entire magical collection directly to Stone, he had to make choices about each individual item, some of which were too potent or dangerous (or both) to make public. The result was that the whole process had taken considerably longer than any of them had expected. Finally, they were beginning to see the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel.

  Eddie and Ward were, as he expected, seated at one of the carved antique tables in the library. They were poring over a pair of massive, illuminated tomes that predated the printing press, but looked up as Stone entered.

  “Afternoon, mate,” Eddie called, grinning. “What brings ’Is Lordship all the way over ’ere on a school day, anyway? You’ve got us dyin’ o’ curiosity.”

  Stone didn’t bother to grumble. Ever since Eddie’s research had turned up a few random nobles in his family tree, his friend had been teasing him mercilessly about it. He was used to it by now.