by R. L. King
“He’s young and strong, and this is only one time,” Stone reminded her. “Let him enjoy himself.”
She didn’t look convinced, but hurried after him.
By the time they reached the building, Jason had stationed himself next to the door, eyeing the hefty handle. “Ready?”
“Just a moment,” Stone said. “Let me put up an illusion that we’re not here. Stay to the side, though, in case they’re waiting to open fire.”
Viajera’s reluctance to wait showed in her every muscle, but she edged to the right side of the doorway and crouched, ready to pounce. Verity joined her there.
Stone took a moment to conjure an illusion he hoped would convince any waiting attackers that the space outside the door was empty. It was one of the things that came easier to him now, after Calanar—he’d always been good at illusions, but the extra power meant he could concentrate more on content and less on maintaining the spell. “All right,” he said after a few moments. “Go.”
Jason took eager hold of the handle, set his grip, and wrenched.
The metal screeched in protest as his knuckles knotted around it, and for a moment, Stone thought even his friend’s enhanced strength wouldn’t be enough. Then, with a final howl of protest, it gave way with a metallic clank and the handle clattered to the ground. Jason, grinning, stepped back and to the side with a flourish. “All yours, Al.”
“You’re enjoying this entirely too much,” Stone said. If it hadn’t been for the seriousness of their situation, it would have amused him.
“Damn right I am.”
Taking a few steps back and raising his shield, Stone gestured and flung the door open.
Beyond lay an empty, dark hallway.
“Do you see anything?” Verity asked, holding back from craning her neck around for her own look.
“Not a thing. No sign of her flunkies. There’s not even anywhere for them to hide.”
“Illusion?” Jason asked. “I don’t smell anything.”
“Doesn’t look like it,” Stone said, and Viajera chuffed agreement.
Verity did peer around now. “Wait—I see light up ahead on the left. Under a door.”
Stone had been looking for an ambush, so he hadn’t spotted the thin line of dim light near the floor.
Viajera moved forward, gently shoving Verity out of the way. She raised her head, sniffing the air, then made a low growl and plunged into the hall at a run.
“So much for being careful,” Stone muttered, and hurried after her. The others followed.
The interior door didn’t look like original equipment either. This one was double, made of the same substantial metal as the exterior one. Someone had carefully painted odd-looking symbols on both sides. “Wards?” Verity asked.
Stone had already shifted to magical sight. “Yes. Nasty ones, too.”
“Can you get through them?”
He glanced at Viajera, who was radiating impatience. “I’d better be able to, or she’s going to rip them down by main force. Hold on. Jason, once I get them down, we won’t have a lot of time. As soon as I say the word, get that door open.”
“Got it.”
“Verity—just…be ready for anything.”
“You got it, Doc,” she said dryly.
Stone took several deep breaths, focusing on the structure of the ward. It was of a type he’d never seen before, but not particularly complex. Whoever the alchemist was, he didn’t think wards were her specialty, and these were probably only intended to keep out mundane intruders. He’d never have been able to do this with wards like Thalassa Nera’s, even at his new power level.
That was one advantage they had going for them—although she no doubt knew about their arrival, he didn’t think she was prepared for this kind of magical opposition. At least he hoped not. They were entering her lair now, and if he was wrong, they could be in trouble.
Of course, she’s probably long gone with the chalice by now, and all this is good for nothing but slowing us down. He shoved the thought away. They’d deal with what they found.
“All right…” he murmured as he took hold of two sections of the ward. “Get ready, Jason. On three. One…two…three.”
He drew the two sections aside, opening a hole in the ward. It resisted, crackling against his senses, fighting to resume its regular shape, but he held it. “Now,” he rasped. “Go!”
Jason stepped forward eagerly and grabbed the left-side handle. Muscles knotting, teeth gritted, he repeated his performance with the front door. “This one’s…harder…”
“Hurry up. I can’t hold this much longer.” The buzzing was growing stronger—it didn’t quite hurt yet, but Stone was certain that wouldn’t be true for long. Wards, by their very nature, wanted to keep the shape they were built to form, and it didn’t go well for anything interfering with that desire.
Jason growled, bearing down on the handle with more force. “Move, damn you!” he snapped.
Behind him, Viajera growled with more impatience.
“Maybe I—” Verity began.
The door made a shrieking, metal-on-metal sound. Jason’s roar of frustration became one of triumph as the handle broke free and the heavy door swung open.
The jaguar surged past him into the room.
“Viajera, wait—” Stone hurried after her. “We don’t know—”
He stopped, taking in the scene in the room.
“Well, then,” he said softly.
44
It was an impressive circle, but it didn’t look like any magical construct Stone had ever seen.
The closest it came was the monstrosity Elias Richter had set up during his attempt to perform the vile ritual that had killed Deirdre Lanier and nearly killed Tabitha Wells. The circle itself was at least fifteen feet across, drawn with precision in glowing green runes and sigils on the cleared floor of what looked like it had once been a large conference room. That much looked familiar, but everything else spoke to a style of magic Stone had very little experience with.
At many points along the circle’s perimeter, lit candles alternated with wooden stands supporting various tubing, glass containers, and upright cylinders, all of them bubbling and brimming with liquids that blazed with power. Some of the tubes connected the vessels, while others snaked into the center of the circle, converging on a black iron cauldron three feet in diameter. More glowing runes in green, blue, and red were etched all around the cauldron’s surface, and beneath it a fire roared, sending thick smoke up toward the room’s high ceiling, where something unseen dissipated it. Along two of the walls, shelves and benches were lined with bottles and vials of various sizes and colors, along with other receptacles, jars, bags, and books. The room had an acrid, earthy smell mixed with musk and chemicals.
“What the hell…?” Jason breathed from behind Stone in the doorway.
“That’s an alchemy setup,” Verity said in the same soft tone. “Hezzie has a much smaller one in her apartment. I’ve never seen one anywhere near that big.”
“But where’s the alchemist?” Jason asked, looking around. “I can’t smell anything alive in here—that smoke’s covering everything.”
Next to Stone, Viajera growled and took another step into the room. Her yellow-gold gaze was intent on the center of the circle.
“I wouldn’t,” said a voice.
Stone snapped his attention to the cauldron, but even with magical sight he couldn’t see anyone there past the smoke. “Show yourself,” he called.
He didn’t expect it to work, so he blinked when a figure shimmered into being on the far side of the cauldron, watching them with amusement. It was hard to get a good look at her through all the smoke; all he could pick out was that she was short, very thin, and wore some kind of dark-colored robe or gown.
“I didn’t expect you to make it this far,” she said. “I should applaud you for that, I suppose. But now, you’ll be leaving.” Her voice was low and harsh, with a thick Spanish accent.
“I think not,
” Stone said. He stepped in next to Viajera, whose gaze had not wavered from the woman. She still emitted a low, dangerous growl from deep in her chest.
“Not another step,” the woman warned. “Not unless you want your prize destroyed forever.” She waved a hand, and the air above the cauldron shifted to reveal an object hovering above it.
Viajera let out an agitated whine.
Stone gripped her shoulder, stiffening. Even only having seen the crude sketch she had made, he knew instantly what the object was.
It was the chalice.
45
The woman smiled, her dark eyes glittering with malice. “Ah, you recognize it. That will make things easier.” She indicated the cauldron. “The solution in here is highly caustic, with a component built in to neutralize magic. I frankly doubt it will be potent enough to completely destroy the chalice, but I guarantee it will affect its magical properties sufficiently that it will no longer function for its intended purpose.” Her gaze shifted to the jaguar. “I wouldn’t risk it, Viajera. Your clan would destroy you if they found out you were the cause of its loss.” She raised a thin hand. “In fact, please shift back to your human form. Let’s take no chances.”
When Viajera hesitated, the woman gestured, and the golden chalice dropped a few inches toward the cauldron. Smoke swirled around it, obscuring its contours.
“I won’t ask again,” she said.
With a growl of resignation, Viajera stepped back, her muscular, furred form transforming to her human guise. She barely appeared to notice when Stone dropped his coat over her shoulders, her cold gaze still fixed on the woman. “So,” she said, her voice shaking with anger. “This is what you have become.”
Stone exchanged confused glances with Verity and Jason. “You…know this woman?” he asked.
“Oh, yes.” Now bitterness joined the anger. She directed her attention back to the woman. “Why would you do this? We were friends. My mother trusted you. My clan trusted you. What would make you betray them like this?”
The woman laughed, her contempt visible on her face. “Oh, Viajera, you always were naïve, even after you left the clan with your mother and went to live among the humans.”
Stone, watching the two of them, almost asked who she was, and how Viajera knew her. But then he didn’t have to, as the answer struck him. “Bloody hell…” he whispered. “Dr. Garra.”
Viajera didn’t turn in response, but she did speak without looking at him. “Yes. Alastair, meet the real Dr. Marciella Garra. A woman I thought was my friend.”
Stone stared at the woman. Magical sight couldn’t pierce the smoke sufficiently to see her aura, but as he watched the tendrils dance and waft above the cauldron, he could now see the strong resemblance between the alchemist and the photo Jason had shown him back at his office. She was older now, and almost skeletally thin in her dark robe, but the steady, beady black eyes were the same.
“Why?” Viajera demanded. “You owe us that, at least. Why did you do it? Why would you steal something so sacred to our people, and…pervert it like this?” She gestured around the room, nearly spitting her words at the end.
“It’s simple, really.” Garra remained behind the cauldron as she spoke, focusing on Viajera and the others. “Wealth. Power. Your clan never appreciated my abilities. Oh, certainly they took advantage of them when it suited them, but as much as I wanted—begged for, in fact—access into their inner circles so I could learn everything about their ways, they always shut me out. I wasn’t one of you, you see. As much as I did for you, it ultimately didn’t matter, because I could never be one of you. So I left, to do my own research, my own study.”
Viajera’s face twisted with disgust. She gestured at the circle. “So you did…this? You kidnapped my people, and those from other clans? Held them prisoner? Stole their blood?”
Stone, next to her, saw her trembling, but didn’t move to touch her. Even in her human form, the look of the jaguar hung over her. He had no idea what she’d do if he startled her.
“There’s quite a market for my concoctions,” Garra said. Her voice held no hint of regret or contrition. “It seems a large number of individuals—both legal and not, it turns out—have discovered they can benefit from them. Who wouldn’t want increased strength and speed? Who wouldn’t want to see in the dark, or heal injuries in minutes?” She shrugged. “Your people should have accepted me, Viajera, and none of this would have happened. I loved you—all of you. But you turned your back on me.”
“You’re disgusting,” Jason said.
“I’m not.” Garra glanced down into the cauldron, then back at the others. “I’m realistic. I’ve got markets all over the world. Naturally, since my production batches are small and I had to maintain utmost discretion for my own safety, I haven’t been able to move nearly as much product as I’d have liked, but even so, my operation has already made me a wealthy woman.” Her gaze settled on Viajera. “It’s too bad Anna Maria escaped, and even more tragic that she died giving birth to her cub. I’d made some alterations to the elixir the chalice produces, which was supposed to increase her fertility even more. Apparently I didn’t have it quite right yet.”
“So you captured me instead.” Viajera couldn’t keep the horror out of her voice. “You…were planning to experiment on me. To use me. And not just for my blood. You were going to breed me, and use my children for your madness!”
Garra gave a harsh laugh. “Don’t sound so sanctimonious, child. Don’t forget that you used me, too—or was there some other reason you claimed my identity so you could pretend to be qualified for your job at the University?”
“Hardly the same thing,” Stone said, narrowing his eyes. “Let’s think—a bit of well-meaning identity theft versus kidnapping sentient beings and stealing their blood to line your own pockets?”
“Ah, yes. Dr. Stone. You’ve been quite a hindrance to my plans. In fact, I’d guess that Viajera here wouldn’t have gotten near me if it hadn’t been for your help.”
“That’s me—ever helpful.” He might have been able to infuse more contempt into his voice if he’d tried harder, but she wasn’t worth the extra effort.
“Tell me,” she said, making a gesture that caused the liquid in the cauldron to pop and bubble beneath the floating chalice. “Just to satisfy my own curiosity: how are you still alive? You should have died nearly instantly, in agony, from the mixture you drank.”
“Sorry to disappoint you. It seems my friend is a bit more competent as a healer than you are as an alchemist.”
Garra shook her head. “No healing magic should have been able to do more than provide temporary respite.” She waved him off. “No matter. None of it matters anymore. All that matters is that I am leaving with the chalice.”
“You’re going to kill us, then, are you?” Stone asked. “Good luck with that—it’s proven more difficult than you planned in the past.”
“No. I’m not going to kill you. You’re going to leave here—all of you.”
“Like hell we will,” Jason growled.
“Ah, I see you have benefited from my concoction too,” Garra said, eyeing him approvingly. “It suits you. You like being effective around your magical friends, don’t you, boy? I’m sure we could come to some sort of arrangement, if—”
“Fuck off, lady.”
She shrugged. “Fine, suit yourself. But as I was saying—you will all leave here, get in your car, and go back to where you came from. My men are recovered from their injuries now. They’re stationed around the area, concealed where you’ll never detect them. If you leave as directed, you won’t see them and they won’t touch you. If you don’t…” She gestured, and the chalice dipped and bobbed above the cauldron. “…then I will drop this in, and send my men after you. You’ll probably beat them—you did before, so I have no doubt you could do it again. But you’ll never catch me before I escape.”
“And set up your operation somewhere else,” Verity said. Her voice shook with anger.
“O
f course. Somewhere no one will ever find me. With the money I’ve made already, not to mention the lure of the elixir itself and the abilities it can provide, I’ll have no shortage of help to ensure no one can touch me.” She snorted. “You can go back to your people, Viajera, and tell them about what happened—if you dare. If you want to risk their wrath when they discover you were the cause of the chalice’s destruction.”
“But if you destroy the chalice,” Jason said, “you’ll be screwing yourself over too.”
“She won’t,” Stone said grimly. “It will put an end to her breeding operation, but that’s only ancillary to her plans.”
“Exactly,” Garra said with approval. “I won’t deny that having it made things easier—breeding my stock instead of abducting it is safer and more efficient—but it’s not as if I haven’t done it before.”
“You’re a monster,” Verity said.
“You’re a fool,” Garra said. “Now—what will it be, Viajera? Will you leave peacefully, or will I destroy your little bauble here?” The chalice dipped lower, until it hovered only a few inches above the cauldron.
“I’ll kill you…” Viajera said, her voice a low rumble in her throat, more the jaguar than the woman. “I’ll rip your throat out and decorate the walls with your blood. If not here, then somewhere else. I’ll never stop looking for you.”
“I’m sure you won’t, old friend.”
“We can’t just let her go,” Jason said, fists clenched in frustration. “Not after all this.”
“We must,” Viajera said. She sounded resigned, beaten. “The chalice is too important to my people. I can’t be the cause of its destruction.”
Stone stood next to her. He’d been silent, but his mind hadn’t been idle. There had to be some way out of this. Jason was right: they couldn’t simply let Garra escape. If she were allowed to set up shop somewhere else—somewhere a lot less accessible than northern California—she would kidnap or breed more shifters, collect more blood, and produce more of her vile concoction. He thought about what had happened to Jimmy Tanuki, murdered by having his limbs ripped from his body, and about what that might mean in the future if more people had access to elixirs that would make them nearly unstoppable by normal means. She could build a private army to protect her.