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

by R. L. King

  Sharra, failing utterly to hide her amused smirk, shook her head. “We found a few groups of mages—or at least evidence of magic—but nothing that looked like rituals.”

  Verity nodded. “Didn’t see Dr. Brandt either, but that doesn’t surprise me: I barely remember what she looks like, so I’d probably miss her anyway.” She chuckled. “I guess we don’t have to ask what you were doing…”

  He raised an eyebrow. “I suppose there’s no point in telling you to give it a rest, is there?”

  “Nope,” she said, shaking her head, grin widening.

  “If you must know,” he said with a sigh, “I’ve been studying some ritual notes I got from a friend,” he said. “I was—erm—interrupted shortly before you arrived.” He picked up his pack and verified that the notes were still where he’d put them, though there wasn’t really any way that Wendy and Rosie could have hidden them—or anything else—on their way out.

  “Oh, is that what you call it?”

  “All right,” he growled. Probably a little more irritated than he should have sounded, but he still felt like he needed to go take a long cold shower, stat. “Enough now. I want to meet when Jason gets back and compare notes. Have you seen him?”

  Sharra shook her head. “It’s a big area, though, and he had the bike. I’m sure he’ll be back soon. We’ll—” she chuckled. “—leave you alone. Just come by when he gets back. C’mon, V.”

  Stone glared at Sharra as the two of them left. He hoped Jason would get back soon, so he could get the meeting over with. He pulled the notes back out of his bag, forcing himself to focus on the complicated ritual diagrams and not to speculate about what might be going on at the Temple of Love, whatever and wherever that was.

  Jason had been pedaling his slow, meandering way around the playa for two hours now, and in that time he hadn’t discovered any indication of magic, the Evil, or anything else suspicious.

  He didn’t find this at all surprising, given his complete lack of any magical talent. He wasn’t even sure what he was supposed to be looking for, or why anyone expected that he’d be able to find it. He kept his eyes open, scanning the crowd as much as he could for any familiar faces or suspicious activity, but aside from a brief glimpse of Verity and Sharra an hour or so ago, he hadn’t seen anyone he recognized.

  He’d also been doing a lot of thinking. Mostly, he was just humoring Stone with the search. He didn’t think the Evil were here—if they had been, surely they would have done something by now, even if it was just inciting violent incidents to feed their need for emotion. True, there were still three more days to go, so if they were setting something up that took some time, it might not be ready yet. But so far, all he’d encountered was the expected collection of “burners,” as they called themselves: people ranging from little kids to senior citizens, from young, naked, free-spirit hippie artist types to groups of nerd buddies working on amazingly complex technological camps to old veterans sitting around outside their RVs, watching the crowds and swapping stories of Burns past.

  He wondered if Verity and Sharra had found anything. At least the two of them had a good shot at spotting magic or any sign of rituals being set up, and together they should be more than a match for anyone or anything that might threaten them.

  Probably better than you’d be, he thought with more than a little bitterness.

  He tried not to think about that too often because it just made him angry and frustrated—which in turn made him feel guilty and set off a vicious cycle—but sometimes it wasn’t easy having a circle of friends who could all shape the world with their minds.

  Stone was a hard guy to be friends with sometimes. The mage careened back and forth between “scary-powerful badass you do not want to get on the wrong side of,” and “eccentric human-feline hybrid who can’t handle the basic realities of mundane life.” The guy would move mountains—maybe literally—for you if he considered you worth his time, but sometimes he needed more watching than the most suicidal of toddlers to keep him from indulging his magical curiosity and walking off a metaphorical cliff. Life around Alastair Stone was kind of like riding a roller coaster in the dark: you never quite knew which way your life was going to veer, or whether you were going to bash your head on an overhead beam when you least expected it, but the rush was—most of the time—worth it.

  And then there was Verity. His sister. The girl who, when they were children, used to follow him around and try to do everything he was doing, because she idolized everything about him. The girl who’d had a mental breakdown at the age of twelve and spent the next five years of her life in and out of various institutions and care facilities and halfway houses, until Stone figured out what was messing with her mind and stopped it. The girl who, due to the fact that their mother had (completely unknown to Jason) been a mage herself, had inherited the talent and asked Stone to train her. The girl—the woman, now, he corrected himself—who was, under Stone’s tutelage, growing into a formidable mage in her own right.

  The woman who no longer needed him to protect her.

  Not that he’d ever stop, of course. That wasn’t what he was. He watched out for the people he cared about, whether they needed him to or not, and he could no more stop doing it than he could stop breathing. Maybe he couldn’t throw lightning bolts or turn invisible or make things fly around the room with the power of his mind, but none of that mattered. Verity was his little sister, the only family he had left, and that meant he’d defend her with his life if it came to that. The only difference nowadays was that she would probably do the same for him—and have a good shot at making it stick.

  He decided he should probably head back—they’d left Stone watching over the camp and he’d probably want to get away for a while. He wondered if Verity and Sharra were back yet, and if they’d found anything.

  He was in the process of turning the bike around when the back wheel became spongy and unresponsive. He stopped, swung his leg over, and crouched down in the dim light, swearing as he shone his small flashlight on the tire. It was not only flat, but it had a ragged horizontal slash about half an inch wide across its knobby tread. He’d probably run over something a while ago that had weakened it, and it had finally broken open. And the patch kit he’d carefully packed was back at camp, probably with the other bike.

  “Great,” he muttered. He was all the way over on the other side of the playa from their camp; it would be a long walk back.

  “Ooh, bad luck,” said a woman’s voice behind him.

  He turned, looking up. She was tall and tanned, with long blonde hair, and wore a flowered sundress that accentuated her figure. “Yeah,” he said, nodding. “It was a new tire, too.”

  “That happens a lot,” she said. “First timer?” She smiled to take the sting from the words.

  He rose, returning the smile with an embarrassed one of his own. “Yeah…that easy to tell, huh?”

  “Oh, you’re not alone,” she said. “I’ve seen three flat bike tires just tonight.” She glanced over and flagged down one of the lumbering mutant vehicles: this one was done up like a rabbit, with a big cottony tail in front of a wide bench seat across the back. “Tell you what,” she said. “You bring it back to my camp—it’s not far from here—and we can patch it up there. I’m sure these guys will give us a ride. Right?” she asked louder to the driver, a heavyset young woman in a black T-shirt featuring the skull of Hello Kitty.

  “Sure, hop on,” she said, waving them toward the back.

  “Thanks,” Jason said. He got the bike settled and then swung himself into the seat. She got in next to him and the vehicle trundled off again. “I’m—J—Wolf, by the way.

  She smiled. “Nice to meet you. I’m Luna. So this is your first Burn, huh? What brings you here?”

  “An RV, originally,” he said wryly. “But we had car trouble, so now we’re in two tents, a Jeep, and a horse trailer.”

  She laughed. “Now that’s a new one! Here with friends, I take it?”

  “Yeah.
We just decided it’d be fun. Kind of a last-minute thing.”

  “That’s the best way to do it,” she said, nodding. “Just be spontaneous, and do what feels good. That’s what the Burn is all about.”

  The rabbit-vehicle kept moving, and Jason glanced over at Luna. She sat, leaned back and relaxed, watching the scenery. By the glow of the various lights they passed, he watched her surreptitiously while pretending to admire the landscape. Her long hair swept back from a delicate, almost elfin face with strong cheekbones and a little turned-up button nose. He couldn’t tell what color her eyes were, but they were large and expressive. “What about you?” he asked. “How many times have you been?”

  “Oh, this is my fourth,” she said. “I try to come every year, with a couple of girlfriends. We never bring guys with us, even when we’re seeing people. Part of the fun is finding new friends and new experiences, you know?” She turned to him then, and her frank expression told him everything he needed to know about how the rest of the evening might go if he wanted it to. “Oh wait, here’s our stop. Thanks!” she called up to the driver, and the woman waved a farewell as they jumped off with the bike.

  Luna’s camp was composed of an RV about two-thirds the size of the one Stone had rented, a couple of large, fancy, but well-used tents, and a camper-trailer that popped up into another living space. All of these were arranged around a central firepit area that was currently empty and quiet, and a series of flickering tiki torches ringed the perimeter. The camp also included a collection of whimsical decorations including lawn gnomes, pink flamingos stuck into the ground on their spindly legs, and various signs reading things like WELCOME HOME and LOVE WANTS TO BE FREE and VISUALIZE WORLD PEACE.

  “Come on,” she said, leading him toward the camper. Let’s get that bike of yours fixed.”

  It didn’t take long to get the mountain bike’s tire back to functional shape again. Luna watched while Jason pumped it back up. “Thanks,” he said. “I really appreciate this. You saved me a long walk.”

  “No problem,” she said. “That’s what the Burn is about—helping each other. Community.” She smiled. “Want to come in for a little bit? I’ve got some beers put away in an ice chest inside, and I’d love to have somebody to share them with. Plus, you owe me for the repair. The charge is one kiss—and any tips you want to give me to go with it,” she added with a wicked little grin.

  “Sure,” he said, mirroring the grin. “I could stay for a while. And I know some pretty good tips.” He knew he should be getting back soon, and that Stone was probably waiting for him, but right now, as Luna regarded him with her large, inviting eyes, he didn’t really give a damn.

  When Stone came up for air again, it was nearly five a.m. Outside, the parties and other festivities were still going strong: various bits of live and recorded music battled with shrieks, yells, fireworks, and the sounds of novelty horns as the occasional mutant vehicle passed by the camp. He stretched and got up, looking around. Jason still wasn’t back; his sleeping bag was still neatly rolled up on his air mattress.

  He pushed his way outside and crossed over to Verity and Sharra’s tent. “Anyone awake in there?”

  He heard the sound of muffled muttering, and a moment later a tousle-headed Verity appeared in the doorway. “Sorry—kinda nodded off. Is there a problem? Where’s Jason?”

  “He’s not back yet. I came by to see if he might be in here with you.”

  She shook her head, motioning Stone inside. “Haven’t seen him since we all left.” Her smooth brow furrowed. “You think he’s okay?”

  “He probably just found somebody to hook up with,” came Sharra’s voice from the depths of a sleeping bag. She poked her head out and smirked at Stone. “It happens, you know?”

  He arched an eyebrow at her. “We were going to meet to discuss what we’ve discovered.”

  The young mage rolled her eyes. “Hmm. Young guy. Giant 24/7 party. Discussion, or sex. Discussion, or sex…” She sat up and assumed an exaggerated ‘thinking’ pose. “Which do you think will win out? Tune in tomorrow to learn the answer.”

  Verity chuckled. “I guess she’s got a point, Doc.”

  Stone sighed, frustrated. “Fine, then. If you two are settled in for the duration, I think I’ll go for a walk. I can’t stare at those diagrams anymore.”

  “Heading to the Love Temple?” Sharra asked, waggling her eyebrows.

  “I’ll be back in a bit,” he said, his tone short and more than a little cold. He disappeared without another word.

  Verity watched him go with some concern. “Maybe you should lay off him a little,” she said, turning back inside and settling down on the sleeping bags next to Sharra. “He seems—stressed.”

  Sharra shrugged. “He could do with a little loosening up. Frankly, I think the Love Temple would be good for him.”

  “I think he’s just worried about the Evil,” Verity said.

  “I think he’s trying to find what he wants to find, whether it’s here or not.” Sharra, too, settled back. “Even you have to admit that maybe they’re just not here to find.” She patted Verity’s arm. “Come on, V. If they turn up, we’ll deal with them. But until then, there’s no harm in having a little fun, right? What do you say tomorrow night we just head out and soak up the atmosphere? Get involved a little. If we spot anything suspicious, great. But do you really think we’re going to? Be honest.”

  Verity hesitated. “I—guess I don’t know anymore,” she said.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Thursday

  Jason didn’t return until well after noon. Stone, who had achieved only a light doze due to the heat, awoke instantly when the ward around the tent buzzed to announce the new arrival.

  “Well,” he said, sitting up and not even trying to keep the sarcasm from his voice. “Nice of you to grace us with your presence.”

  Jason stared, stripping off his shirt and tossing it on his bed. “Huh?”

  “Where were you last night?”

  “Not really your business, Al.” His eyes narrowed. “Go back to sleep. Sorry I woke you up.”

  Stone didn’t lie back down, though. “We waited for you,” he said. “We were supposed to meet to discuss anything we’d found.”

  He shrugged. “I didn’t find anything.”

  “Oh, I’ll bet you did.” The sarcasm stepped up a bit. Stone wasn’t completely sure why he was being so hard on Jason, except that he was too hot, generally uncomfortable, tired of the constant drifting dust, sleep-deprived, and discouraged because he was beginning to doubt their reasons for being here at all.

  “Don’t go there, Al,” Jason said. He dropped to his knees and rooted around in his bag for a towel and fresh clothes.

  “I’m just saying that I’d imagine it would be difficult for you to spot signs of the Evil from the inside of some woman’s caravan.”

  Jason spun, glaring. “I said shut up. And anyway, I don’t know why the hell you expect me to be able to find any signs anyway—you know, if they were even here. It’s not like I can just put out brainwaves like you guys can.” He made a contemptuous finger-wiggling gesture that was obviously intended to indicate magic. “Face it, Al: they’re not here, and I’m useless for finding them anyway. You and V and Sharra can go out on your little magical recon patrols. Me, if I see anything I’ll let you know. But in the meantime, if I meet somebody and want to have a little fun, I’m not gonna answer to you about it. Got it?” His voice rose in volume, though never to the point of shouting.

  Stone didn’t move. He kept his expression even as he looked up at Jason. “Do what you like, Jason. You will anyway. You’re right: I can’t stop you. I just want you to remember something: if the Evil are here, whatever they’re planning is going to be big. And if they find out we’re here—if they find out Verity is here—then they’re going to act. If you’re off entertaining some young lady when that happens—”

  For a moment Jason just stood there, staring at Stone, his expression and clenched fists
clearly indicating that he was seriously considering taking a swing at the mage. Instead, he spun away again and headed for the tent entrance. “I’m gonna get a shower.”

  Stone remained where he was, watching the closed tent flap for several long moments. Then he lowered himself back down. He didn’t have any delusions about getting back to sleep, but suddenly he didn’t feel like getting up either.

  Trin appeared in the doorway of Pia Brandt’s small RV. It was parked far off on one side of the playa, away from the area where Aisha Darby was running her dance rehearsals, and well out of the way of most foot traffic. “How’s it going?”

  Pia sat at the little dinette, papers spread out all around her. She had one in front of her, a series of complex diagrams on a large piece of graph paper, and she was writing careful and precise notes around its edges.

  “It’s going well. Everything is moving along according to plan.” She pulled another piece of paper from beneath the one she was working on and motioned for Trin to sit down opposite her.

  Trin did so, examining it. It was obviously a printout map of the entire playa, showing all the streets, the central area where the Man was, and the surrounding land. Pia had annotated it in red pencil, including a series of small circles that stretched around the larger circle at its inner edge, like clock points. Three of these clock points were along the top part of the circle—the part that was open and free of any campsites.

  Pia used the eraser end of her pencil as she spoke, pointing at several of the small red circles in the populated areas. “I just got a report this morning from the soldiers: they’re finished setting up seven of the twelve points inside the tents. They should have the rest done by the end of today.”

  “All but these, right?” Trin asked, pointing at the three in the empty area.

  “Yes. Those won’t go up until Saturday night shortly before the Burn. They’ll have them ready to transport before that, of course.”