by R. L. King
Stone raised his hands in a ‘stop’ gesture. “Hold on, Jason. You’re making a lot of assumptions, and building yourself quite the house of cards. Even allowing that such a portal exists, we have no way to know if the Evil are still getting through, or if a whole assortment of them just came through all at once when the portal first opened.”
“Either way,” Jason said stubbornly, “If we can shut down the portal, the number of Evil still around is finite, right?”
“If they can’t reproduce,” Verity said.
Her brother glared at her. “One problem at a time. I really don’t want to think about those things reproducing right now, if you don’t mind.” He turned back to Stone. “But what I’m saying is—I know it’s a long shot, but if you’re right, this might actually be the way to get rid of the Evil once and for all, yes?”
Stone shrugged. “Anything’s possible,” he said. “But I wouldn’t get my hopes up. Since we have no idea where the portal might be, our best bet is probably trying to find the notes. Fortunately for us, we might have a bit of luck on our side. One thing I remember about Daphne is that she was fanatical about documenting her work. And since this was a secret project, she probably didn’t have them out where just anyone could find them. So it’s possible that they still exist, and that we just have to figure out where she hid them.”
“That’s luck?” Verity asked.
“Well, it’s better than nothing,” Stone said. “And given that I did attend a holiday party with Daphne’s family one weekend several years ago, there’s even a chance they might remember me.”
“That still doesn’t answer the other big question,” Jason said.
Stone raised a questioning eyebrow and made a ‘go on’ gesture.
“Why are they killing mages all of a sudden?”
“Why are they killing mages that won’t join them?” Verity corrected, leaning forward. “It almost sounds like they’re trying to gather up mages for something, and killing the ones who won’t go along with them.”
Stone sighed. “Why don’t we focus on the portal question first? I have no idea if the two are related, but if they are and we make progress on the first one, I have no doubt the second one will come back to bite us in short order.”
“Great,” Jason said with a frown. “Because I can’t think of anything else I’d rather do than be a tasty snack.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Daphne’s mother, it turned out, still lived at the same place near San Luis Obispo where Stone had met her before, a three-hour drive south of Palo Alto. She remembered him and was pleased to hear from him, though surprised when he told her he wanted to talk with her about something, but wanted to do it in person.
Jason and Verity decided to go along just in case there was any trouble. “Besides, I know you,” Jason said. “If she has the notes, you’ll probably take off after wherever they point you and forget all about calling us.”
Daphne’s mother looked very much like Stone remembered her: compact, dark-haired, cheerful. She had a few more lines on her face and a bit more gray in her hair, and the ever-present twinkle in her dark eyes seemed permanently dimmed, but aside from that she could have been the same woman who had plied Stone with her “secret home recipes” at the family outing he’d attended with Daphne a few years back.
“It’s good to see you, Alastair,” she said, briefly taking his hand in hers and squeezing it before they sat down at a table near the little bistro’s front window. “How have you been?”
“I’ve been well,” he told her. “Busy.”
“Busy is good.” She looked down at her hands, then back up at him.
“I suppose I should get right to it. I’m sure you’re wondering why I’ve contacted you after all these years—”
She gave him a faint smile. “I thought it was because you missed me.” She chuckled, just a little. “You always were my favorite, you know. I was so disappointed when you and Daphne—didn’t work out.”
“Daphne was a lovely person and a good friend,” he said. “We never stopped being friends. It just—wasn’t meant to be. We both knew that.”
She nodded. “It happens, I know.” She took a deep breath. “So—why now? It must be pretty important, or you’d have told me over the phone instead of driving down here in person.”
Not sure how to start, Stone just dived in. “As you might have suspected, it’s about Daphne.”
Nancy looked down. “Yes, I assumed it was.” Meeting his eyes, she asked, “Alastair—you don’t have any idea what happened to her, do you? If you do, please tell me.”
“Nancy—”
“Do you?” she pressed. Her eyes were full of hope and desperation, grasping at her last chance.
He shook his head. “I don’t. I’m sorry, Nancy.”
“She never told us anything about what she was doing—I didn’t even know what she did for a living, not really. Some kind of scientific research, she said. I think she might have worked for the government.” As was often the case with mages these days, Daphne’s Talent had skipped at least one generation, so Nancy had no knowledge of the magical world. Daphne had once told Stone that her grandmother had arranged her apprenticeship.
“I knew a bit about the research part,” Stone said. “That’s why I’m here, actually.”
She gave him an odd look. “I don’t understand.”
“Nancy—do you happen to remember if you ever saw Daphne with any notebooks?”
“Notebooks?”
“Research notes. I know that she was always very meticulous about keeping records about what she was working on.”
Nancy thought about that for a moment, then shook her head. “I don’t think I ever saw her with anything like that. She didn’t come home to visit often—she was always so busy—and when she did, she didn’t bring any notebooks with her, unless she kept them locked up in her suitcase.” She looked at him. “I’m sorry, Alastair. Can you tell me anything about these notebooks? Why are you interested in them after all this time?”
“It’s a bit hard to explain, but—from what little I knew of what she was working on, I think she was doing some things that might help me in my own research. I was hoping to be able to take a look at her notes.”
She spread her hands, looking like she genuinely regretted her inability to help. “I’m sorry,” she said again. “If I knew anything about any notebooks, I’d tell you. I’m sure if I’d known where they were, I’d have given them to the people investigating her disappearance years ago. Daphne—” She paused. “I don’t think Daphne is ever coming back. I haven’t wanted to admit it—but after all these years, I’ve heard nothing, and no one’s been able to find even a trace of what happened to her. I keep holding out hope that she might just have had a reason to disappear—” She laughed a bitter little laugh. “—like maybe she got on someone’s bad side, or saw something she shouldn’t and had to go into the Witness Protection Program. But those kinds of things only happen on television shows, I’m afraid. It’s taken me awhile, but I think I’ve finally accepted that she’s—”
Stone reached across the table and took her hand. “Nancy, don’t. I’m so sorry that I’ve brought this all up in your mind again.”
“It’s all right.” Her voice was gentle. “There’s not a day goes by that I don’t think about her. Some days not as much as others lately—some days hardly at all anymore. But I never forget about her. And it is good to see you. You’re welcome to come and stay with us at the house for a while if you like—”
“That’s very kind,” Stone said, shaking his head. “But I’m afraid I have to be getting back.” He pulled out his notebook and wrote down his address and phone number. “I hope you’ll stay in touch.”
Stone was quiet on the drive back to the Bay Area. After a while, Verity sighed. “There isn’t really much else we can do, is there?”
“I don’t see what,” Stone said. “I can try to contact the families of the other researchers—if I can even find th
em—but I doubt I’ll get anywhere. I’m betting they don’t know any more about what this group was up to than Daphne’s mum did.”
“Great,” Jason said. “So there’s probably a portal out there somewhere that’s spitting Evil into our world, and we haven’t got a clue where to find it.”
“I’ll keep investigating,” Stone said. “I’ll write a few letters and see what comes back, but I think we might be at a dead end for now. We could probably all use a rest anyway. I for one am getting bloody tired of having this all on our plate and not being able to tell anyone else.” His tone was tired, bitter, full of a demoralization that his friends had not ever heard before.
“Al—”
“Well, it’s true!” he snapped with sudden vehemence. “These things are here. They’re killing people, driving them mad, pursuing their sick agenda—and we can’t do bugger all about it because we can’t trust anyone else not to be in bed with the damned things!” His voice rose in volume as he spoke until he was almost shouting. Then, his energy spent, he sighed loudly and his posture slumped over the steering wheel.
“Al—” Jason started again.
“Forget it,” Stone said, waving him off. “Let’s just go home. Holidays are coming soon. Put up a Christmas tree or something. Buy each other some presents. Try to forget about this whole fucking mess for a while, that’s my advice.”
Jason and Verity stared at each other. It was the first time either of them had ever heard Stone use that kind of profanity, and neither of them could come up with anything to say in reply.
After they got back to the Bay Area, they went their separate ways for a few days. Jason threw himself into extra hours working at the restaurant while Verity, realizing that Stone had sunk into a deep malaise despite his best efforts to put it aside and continue with her lessons, decided she’d be better off earning a little money on her own for a while. Marta readily took her on—she enjoyed cooking and was good at it, so Nikhil the chef quickly claimed her as a part-time assistant and began teaching her how to prepare Indian cuisine. Still, both she and Jason worried about Stone.
They tried to visit him a couple of times when they had nights off, but he never answered his phone, and he was always away from the townhouse when they drove by.
“I wonder what he’s up to,” Verity asked after one of the drive-bys.
Jason shrugged. “I wish I knew. He’s been moody since I met him, but I hope he’s able to get away from this for a while. I think he needs a vacation. At least the Evil seem to have toned it down.”
“Maybe they’re all off getting ready for Christmas,” she said.
They did find time to track down and visit the Forgotten group late one chilly afternoon. The group had moved again, this time to the ground floor of a small abandoned building in south San Jose. There was a little courtyard behind the building, and Jason and Verity found the Forgotten grouped around a small fire in a metal trash barrel.
“Hello,” Lamar called as he spotted them. His expression was neutral but welcoming. “We were hoping you’d come by again to see us.”
“We weren’t sure you wanted to see us anymore,” Jason said.
“Why wouldn’t we?” Marilee asked, surprised. Her face clouded. “It was a terrible thing that happened with Lissy, but it wasn’t your fault. We don’t blame you for it.” She looked around. “Where’s Dr. Stone? Isn’t he with you?”
“We don’t know where he is,” Verity said. “He’s been in a pretty bad mood over the past few days, and he doesn’t much want people around him right now.”
“I hope it isn’t about Lissy,” Lamar said, concerned. “We told him—”
“I think that’s part of it,” Jason said. “But not all of it. He’ll be okay—we just need to leave him alone for a while until he works it out.”
He wondered if he should tell them about the portals, but decided it wouldn’t be wise, at least not yet. As much as he trusted the Forgotten, he always had to keep it at the forefront of his mind that the very mental issues that made them susceptible to their strange powers—or that resulted from them—also made them unreliable keepers of potentially dangerous secrets.
“Did you…are you going to…have any kind of memorial for Lissy?” Verity asked. “We’d…like to come, if you do and you’ll have us.” Jason nodded agreement.
But Lamar shook his head. “No, we didn’t see any reason to have a formal memorial. We don’t have a body, and outside our own group there aren’t many who even knew Lissy. I don’t think she had any family.”
“Except us,” Benny spoke up.
“Except us,” Lamar agreed. “So we had a small gathering of our own group, but we thought that was enough.”
Jason nodded, suddenly realizing something. “Hey, where’s Hector?” The gruff ex-military man was not part of the group gathered around the trash barrel; Jason looked around to see if he was off somewhere having his usual smoke.
Nobody answered; they all seemed to have other places to look.
“Is he okay? Something didn’t happen to him, did it?” Jason demanded. He still felt guilty about yelling at the man after he’d decked Stone—not that he wouldn’t have stopped it if he could, but the feelings behind it were completely understandable.
“We don’t know,” Marilee said. “After he left that night you all were here, he never came back. We haven’t seen him since.”
“Did you look for him?” Jason looked around at each of their faces in turn.
Lamar shook his head. “We had no real way to do it, aside from asking others when we see them. I heard a rumor that he’s joined up with another Forgotten group, but we don’t know for sure.”
Jason sighed, wondering if anything would go right for them any time soon. As angry as he’d been at Hector that night, he certainly wouldn’t have wanted the man to go off on his own. He hoped Lamar was right—at least if he was with another group he’d be safer than if he were alone.
He and Verity said their goodbyes and took their leave, promising to come back soon. “Bring Dr. Stone with you, if he’ll come,” Marilee said. She indicated her small, sleek black cat, no longer a kitten, perched proudly on top of her cart. “Tell him the little one misses him.”
They decided to go by Stone’s place on their way home, on the off chance he was actually around, and were surprised to see lights on inside. They looked at each other and shrugged; Jason pulled the car into the driveway.
Even more surprisingly, Stone answered the door, looking marginally more like himself than he had the last time they’d seen him.
“Hey,” Jason said. “You receiving visitors?”
“Come on in.” Stone stepped aside to let them pass.
“Haven’t seen you around lately.”
“Stalking me, are you?”
Jason was about to protest when he saw the mage’s quirked eyebrow. “Yeah, you figured it out. I can’t help it—I’ve got a thing for you.” He paused. “You doing okay, Al? Where have you been?”
“Oh, here and there,” he said, dismissive. “Went back home for a bit—the old fashioned way—took care of a few things up at Stanford, got rid of that bloody van and picked up something a bit more interesting…” He shrugged. “Basically did all sorts of things that didn’t have anything to do with the Evil. Yourselves?”
“We’ve been working, mostly,” Verity said.
“Yeah,” Jason added. “Apparently V makes a mean vindaloo.”
“Well,” Stone said, “I do apologize for the break in your studies, Verity, but trust me: you wouldn’t have wanted me for a teacher the last few days.”
“It’s fine,” she said, nodding. “I understand. And besides, I’ve been enjoying working at the restaurant. Having you pay my rent and all is nice, but it’s nice having my own money too. Maybe we can split time between work and magic studies? Nikhil’s pretty happy with me, so I think I can probably get a permanent gig as his assistant cook.”
Stone shrugged. “Whatever you like. As it is, I’l
l have to go back to teaching again when the quarter starts after the first of the year, so that might work out for the best.”
“You had dinner yet?” Jason asked.
“No. Haven’t been very hungry lately.”
“C’mon. We’ll take you out to Chinese or something, and you can show us your new wheels.”
Stone glared at them, but it was clear he wasn’t angry. “You two just won’t leave me alone to wallow in my existential despair in peace, will you?”
Verity grinned. “Sorry, Doc, no can do. You’re stuck with us. Let’s go.”
Jason whistled appreciatively when Stone opened the door to the garage. “Al, I’ll say this for you: you’ve got good taste in automobiles.” His admiring gaze roamed over the shining black BMW sedan crouched on low-profile tires, his desire to get a long loving look under the hood almost visible in the air above his head.
“Close your mouth, Jason. You’re drooling,” Verity said.
“Beats the van,” Stone said, getting in. “I couldn’t bear the thought of driving that ghastly thing any longer. And the tinted windows might make it a bit harder for anyone to spot us.”
“Let’s hope nobody blows this one up,” Jason joked.
They didn’t linger too long over dinner, since none of them were particularly hungry; when they arrived back at Stone’s place it was only a little after seven o’clock. As they approached the house, Jason pointed. “Who’s that?”
A FedEx truck was parked outside the townhouse, and the uniformed driver was heading back down the walk carrying a large mailer envelope. “Is that for me?” Stone asked, stopping and leaning out the window.
“That depends. Are you—” he consulted the address on the mailer “—Alastair Stone?”