Alastair Stone Chronicles Box Set: Alastair Stone Chronicles, Books 1 through 4

by R. L. King

  Stone put the satchel aside and took up the bag. From it he took a shallow copper chalice and put it down behind the bookstand, between the two candles. Then he removed a smaller bag. Crouching down near the wall, he carefully poured reddish sand in a thin line, making a semicircle that surrounded the table and about three feet of space around it. It looked like he was using icing to decorate some kind of weird cake; when he finished, the two ends of the semicircle met the mirror, making the real half and its reflection appear like a full circle. Then he stepped back and examined the scene. Nodding, he picked up the briefcase, withdrew the book, opened it to a particular page and placed it on the stand, taking care not to smudge the sand.

  Jason moved in closer and looked at the open book. The pages themselves seemed to be made of some sort of heavy parchment, or possibly thin, cured leather. The text written on them was in rust-colored ink, and didn’t look even close to any written language he’d ever seen. There were several diagrams on the two pages, including a small depiction of a chalice like the one Stone had placed, and another that looked similar to the knife currently resting on the purple cloth.

  “Okay,” he said. “Looks like you’re all set up here. You mind filling me in on what we’re doing?”

  Stone nodded. Before he spoke, though, he lit the two red candles, flicked on the bookstand’s light, and then moved over to switch off the overhead lights. The result was an eerie flickering glow around the table, illuminating the items and about three feet of mirror on either side of the table. The bookstand’s light was not harsh, but it was bright enough that they could see the open pages. “First of all,” he said at last, “I have to tell you that I’ve lied to you about something.”

  Jason stared at him, startled and a little nervous. “You—did?”

  “Yes. I told you that it’s not possible to do summoning spells with only one mage.”

  “Uh…okay. Yeah, I do remember you saying something like that.”

  “I also told you it wasn’t possible to use magic to locate someone without a tether object, which was why we couldn’t try again after your sister’s stuffed bear was destroyed in the explosion.”

  “So—it is possible, then?”

  Stone nodded. “It is. The things I told you before assumed that the only magical techniques available were of the white variety.”

  Jason eyed the items arrayed on the table. “You’re going to use black magic to summon something?”

  “Exactly.” Stone’s eyes picked up the flickering flames of the two candles, giving him an uncomfortably demonic look. “We are going to summon a spirit and, using you as our tether object, send it off to search for your sister. If all goes well, it will find her and return to us with her location.”

  “Using me? What do you mean?”

  Stone looked him up and down. “This is the part where you get to back out if you want to. I will tell you that this particular technique does involve a certain amount of danger—to me more than to you, but there is still a chance that something could go terribly awry and you could sustain serious injury—or worse. Consider that a disclaimer.”

  “What do I have to do?” Jason was trying to keep his fear under control, reminding himself that he was doing this—all of it—for Verity. “And how big a chance is there that something will go wrong?”

  “In order for a living person to serve as a tether for a location spell, two things must occur. First, he or she must have some strong connection to the person sought. The stronger, the better. Blood ties work best, though strong feelings will do in a pinch, especially if there’s a sexual connection. You, as her sibling, are nearly ideal. The only better choice would be a parent or child.”

  “That makes sense,” Jason said, nodding. “And since both our parents are dead and she doesn’t have any kids, that pretty much makes me the best you got. But what do I have to do? What’s the second thing?”

  “The second thing,” Stone told him, “is that the tether must provide his or her life essence to fuel the casting.”

  “Life essence?”

  “Blood.”

  “Blood,” Jason repeated. He had the wild urge to laugh along with his inner twelve-year-old: Oh, that’s a relief. I thought you meant the other life essence. I’m not really feeling up to providing any of that right about now. But still— “Uh—how much blood?”

  “Not much. A few drops, into the chalice there. That’s what the knife is for. I’ll have to provide some as well, since I’ll be doing the actual summoning.”

  Jason was still confused. “Okay, I have to cut my finger and bleed into a cup. That doesn’t really sound that hard, or that dangerous. I don’t get it.”

  Stone’s expression was sober. “Jason, first of all, the sacrifice of life essence to fuel a spell is extraordinarily powerful, even in such a symbolic fashion as just a few drops of blood. I’ve never done anything like this before. This summoning is fairly minor—I’d never attempt it if it weren’t—but nonetheless, this is uncharted territory for me. I think I know what I’m doing, but if I’m wrong—” He shook his head. “If the spirit breaks free from my control, I have no way of knowing what it will do. Spirits don’t like to be controlled or ordered about. That’s why it normally takes so many mages to do a summoning—it requires that level of willpower to keep the summoned spirit confined and to ensure that someone doesn’t become tempted to use it for his or her own purposes. By doing this ritual—” He pointed at the open book. “—we’re circumventing those safeguards. The only thing keeping us safe is my ability to keep the spirit under control, and to not allow it to tempt me.”

  “And if it breaks your control…” Jason started.

  “If it breaks my control, that likely means it’s killed me. And since you’re the only other living being in the area, you’ll probably be its next target, for having the audacity to participate in its summoning. After that, it will almost certainly return to its home plane. But there’s always the chance it will decide that it likes it here, and run wild for a while before returning.”

  “But we won’t care at that point, since we’ll both be dead,” Jason pointed out, only half-sarcastically.

  “True,” Stone admitted. “But it’s also possible that it might go after Verity, since she’s the one it was meant to go find in the first place. And if it does find her, I can guarantee it will do more than simply point, shout ‘Found her!’ and nip off for home.”

  Jason pondered that. “So that’s the choice, then. You don’t have any other way of finding her.”

  Stone shrugged. “We can always continue looking by more conventional means. But you can see how well that’s worked out so far. It’s up to you, Jason. I won’t think any less of you if you decide you don’t want to do it. This is dangerous stuff. To be honest, a small part of me will be relieved if you decide not to do it. But even in this short time we’ve known each other, I think I know you well enough to guess that’s not going to happen, is it?”

  “No,” Jason said. He sounded resigned, and he didn’t look at Stone when he said it. “If you’re willing to do it, I’m willing to do whatever I can to help. I owe V that much.”

  “All right, then.” He pointed to a spot to the left side of the table. “Stand there, inside the circle, but be careful not to touch it or smudge it. Remember before how I told you not to do that because it would give me a nasty headache if you broke it while I was inside? Well, this time it’s a bit more serious. Once we’ve got the spirit here, breaking the circle will almost certainly mean both our deaths. No pressure,” he added with a quirky smile.

  Jason did as instructed, fearful that for the one time in his life his natural dexterity would desert him, and he’d stumble right onto the sand line. But that didn’t happen, and after a moment he stood in front of the table. He felt his heart beating a little faster than normal, but he wasn’t as nervous now as he had been prior to stepping through the teleportation gateway. Either he was beginning to trust Stone more, or black-magic blood ritua
ls bothered him less than traveling through other dimensions.

  Stone nodded and stepped in next to him, standing to the right side. He took a couple of deep breaths, squared his shoulders, and picked up the knife. “Ready? Last chance to back out.”

  “Let’s do it,” Jason said. He held out his hand.

  Stone took his wrist and guided his hand over the chalice. Jason glanced at him—his face was utterly expressionless, his eyes focused fully on what he was doing. He raised the knife and quickly sliced Jason’s finger. Jason winced a little, but held steady, allowing Stone to turn his hand over so the drops of blood fell into the copper chalice.

  The mage reached out and turned the page of the book. Jason, now sucking on his sliced finger, examined it, but could make no sense out of it. These pages didn’t even have illustrations, just densely packed text in the same weird language.

  Stone began to recite something in low tones. He waved a hand over the chalice and a faint glow began emanating from it. “That’s you,” he murmured. “Now we’ll add a bit of me and see what happens.”

  He held out his own hand over the chalice and made another slice, allowing his blood to drip down and mingle with Jason’s. The glow got brighter, taking on a reddish hue. Stone set the knife down on the cloth, all the while reciting words in the odd language that sounded to Jason a little like Latin but not quite. Not that he knew any Latin, but he was pretty sure this wasn’t it.

  “All right,” Stone said in a low, murmuring tone, barely moving his lips. “Now comes the fun part, where we get to find out if we succeeded. Remember, whatever you do, whatever you see, don’t step out of the circle or break it.”

  The mage’s jaw was tight, his forehead dotted with beads of sweat. Jason alternated between watching Stone’s face and his hands moving hypnotically over the chalice. There was no doubt about it: the glow was brighter now. Something—it looked like a wisp of fog—was forming under his hands. He continued reciting the incantation, his voice growing louder, his hands moving as if he were a sculptor bringing form to the shapeless mass of fog.

  After a few moments, Jason realized that was exactly what he was doing. The little reddish mass was taking on a humanoid shape, and growing larger. It rose out of the chalice like a genie emerging from a lamp. Stone watched it without blinking, his hands never still. A couple of times Jason thought he saw a jerky motion as he appeared to lose control for a split-second, but then he got it back, and the little figure continued to roil and grow.

  This went on for a while—Jason had no idea how long, and he wasn’t about to take his eyes off the proceedings to check his watch. The figure was about half human-size now, and Stone seemed to be having a harder time controlling it. His incantation picked up in speed, and Jason could hear his voice shaking a bit, but he was afraid to say anything and disrupt the mage’s concentration.

  Expecting that the figure would continue to grow larger until it reached man-size and then step out of the chalice, Jason was startled when it suddenly disappeared. “What—?” he demanded, sure something had gone wrong.

  Stone’s shoulders slumped a little, but he didn’t look disturbed. “Watch the mirror,” he said softly, raising his head to do the same. “Any minute now—”

  And then a—form—was shimmering in the mirror. It started out insubstantial, but slowly solidified into a bare-chested, reddish-skinned humanoid a little taller than Stone. It appeared to be standing directly behind the two of them, its head rising in the space between them. Jason whipped his head around—he couldn’t help it—but there was nothing there. The room behind them was empty.

  He turned back and there it was in the mirror, solid as the two of them. Its body writhed as if it were fighting invisible bonds. Its expression was cold, malevolent—and it was glaring at Stone. It said something, its voice the sound of old bones rubbing against ancient parchment. Jason couldn’t make out a word of it—or even that there were words. All he could tell was that the thing looked pissed.

  Without warning it lunged at Stone, its muscular arm actually reaching out through the mirror and going for his real-world throat. It took all of Jason’s willpower not to leap backward, but Stone stood firm. He raised his hand and barked a command in a booming voice. The figure recoiled as if it had touched a hot stove. Its hand and arm receded back into the mirror, and it was left glaring at the mage from the other side. If looks could kill, Jason thought, Al would be a fine red mist right about now.

  “I think I’ve got it now,” Stone said under his breath. His voice was still shaking, more than a little now. “I’m going to send it out.”

  Jason nodded quickly. He’d be glad to be rid of it. To his uninitiated eyes, the thing looked like nothing more than a demon straight from Hell. He was a little worried that it might not just settle for finding Verity and bringing back news, but he knew he’d come way too far now not to trust Stone.

  The mage reached out and put his hands directly on the mirror, one on either side of the spirit’s “body.” He met its eyes without blinking, and uttered a short, sharp sentence that sounded like a command.

  The spirit glared at him for several seconds, but then made a noise that could have been a resigned grumble, executed the most infinitesimal of all possible bows, and winked out.

  “There,” Stone said in a rush of breath, finally allowing himself to focus on Jason.

  “Did it work?” Jason moved to step back out of the circle, but Stone grabbed his arm and shook his head emphatically.

  “Don’t do that,” he said, panting. “We can’t leave the circle until the spirit’s returned and been dismissed. And as for your question: I don’t know. We won’t know until it comes back. But it didn’t rip us limb from limb, and my commands seem to have worked on it, so at least it appears that I performed the summoning correctly.” He swiped sweat off his forehead with his sleeve.

  Jason let his breath out. “You’re—sure that thing won’t hurt Verity?”

  “I’m not sure of anything,” Stone told him. “If it follows my orders, it won’t, but there’s no way to know that right now. Might as well get as comfortable as you can in here. I don’t expect it will be long before it’s back, if it’s had success.”

  There wasn’t any good way to get comfortable within the tiny confines of the circle: there wasn’t enough room to sit down, and Jason didn’t want to lean against the table for fear of knocking over the book or one of the candles. So he just stood there, shifting from foot to foot and trying to keep himself occupied by studying the strange characters on the open page. Every few seconds he’d glance up at the mirror to make sure it hadn’t sprouted any extra reflections, but so far the two of them were alone in the room. Stone, meanwhile, stood without moving, staring moodily into the mirror without appearing to see it.

  A minute passed, then five, then ten. Jason looked at his watch. “You said this would be quick if it worked, right?”

  “I said I thought so,” Stone reminded him. “Remember, this is as new to me as it is to you. Be patient.” Jason noticed that he was starting to look a little restless himself, though.

  Fifteen minutes. Twenty. Still no sign of the spirit. Jason let out a loud sigh, his natural tendency to want to move nearly overwhelming now. “How do we know if it doesn’t work? Do we have to stand in here forever?”

  Stone was about to answer when he stiffened, startled. “It’s back,” he said, pointing at the mirror.

  Jason spun around. Sure enough, the reddish figure had reappeared behind them in the mirror, looking as angry as ever. It said something to Stone in its bones-and-parchment voice, punctuated by many growls and other sounds of displeasure. The mage nodded. “She’s there now, then?” he asked.

  The figure snarled and glared at Stone. It appeared to be contemplating another lunge out into the real world, but eyed the mage warily and decided against it. Instead, it spat at him. The spittle flew out, contacted its own side of the mirror, and ran down toward the table with a sizzle. Then it reached out
with a ropy, muscular arm and attempted to sweep all the objects off the table on its side of the mirror. The candles, knife, and chalice went, careening silently over the edge and out of sight. The book remained, and the creature screamed in agony as its arm contacted it.

  “It’s fighting me—” Stone said under his breath. “I’m going to release it now.” He reached up with both hands and put them on the mirror again. Loudly and clearly, he uttered a long sentence in the strange Latin-like language, then pulled his hands back abruptly and clapped them together in a sudden, sharp sound that made Jason jump. He stumbled, reeling back, realizing with horror even as he did so that he had no way of stopping himself. He was going to fall over backwards, taking out a good chunk of the circle when he landed.

  As he went over, he got a last look at the creature’s face. Instead of looking angry, it looked suddenly surprised and triumphant. That lasted about two seconds. It flung itself forward again, clawed hands eagerly reaching in front of it, reaching for Stone, for Jason—

  —and it winked out, its scream of frustration and agony abruptly cut off as it was sent back to whatever dimension it called home.

  A second after that, Jason crashed to the floor and, just as he thought he would, smudged a significant portion of the circle. A look of absolute terror flashed across Stone’s face before he realized the spirit had already departed.

  Stone leaned over, clutching the table and breathing like he’d just run a marathon. “Good lord, Jason,” he got out between breaths. “If you’d fallen only three seconds sooner—”

  Jason was already rolling back up to his feet, shaking as what had almost happened hit him full force. He couldn’t even say anything, so he just nodded.

  “If we ever have to do this again, remind me to make a bigger circle. Or find a companion with smaller feet.” The mage had recovered himself sufficiently to stand up, and was already blowing out the candles. “Switch on the light, will you? And bring those bags back over here. We have to hurry.”