Blood and Stone

by King, R. L.

  Hell, if he was being wildly optimistic about things (admittedly not a mental state he often enjoyed), perhaps the energy from Jason was why it had been so active this time, as opposed to twenty-seven years ago when it had barely managed to kill one person and make a go at another (or two) before disappearing again. Maybe it had a limited amount of energy, and could only be active for a short time before it was forced to go back home to recharge, and Jason’s power had prolonged its shelf life. If that were true, then maybe the Ayalas were its last gasp as it had tried to do as much damage as possible before it had to go home.

  As usual, it was all speculation, and probably wrong. That was the problem with dealing with the supernatural in real life: nothing was cut and dried, and almost nothing was simple. The whole thing would have been easier if it were more like the books, where things like vampires and werewolves and ghosts had their own laws and societies and physical rules that they followed. You know, like: I’m facing a vampire. I’d better stock up on wooden stakes, holy water, and garlic bread. Or: Werewolf? Silver bullets, and done. Instead, pretty much everything he’d faced so far in his magical career had been different from everything else he’d faced, to the point where it was impossible to be prepared for anything ahead of time. He was almost—almost—nostalgic for the Evil: at least they made sense once you figured them out.

  He continued to be lost in his thoughts as they drove out of town, heading north up Highway 33. It was quite dark now; few cars passed them going the other way, and no one was behind them. Above, the night was nearly moonless.

  “You ever been out here, Jason?” Lopez asked. He drove just a bit above the speed limit, the truck’s smooth, powerful engine rumbling comfortingly.

  “No, but some of my friends have. It was one of the good places to party and drink beer back in the day. The cops didn’t bother you if you didn’t make trouble. Not really my thing.” He leaned forward from his spot in the back seat. “Hey, Al, you awake?”

  Stone nodded, but didn’t answer.

  “Everything okay?” Lopez glanced over, then back at the road.

  “Fine,” he said without moving.

  “Let him go, Stan. He’s probably doing his magic preparation thing. Or else we’re boring him. Or both.” Jason grinned.

  Stone still didn’t reply. He didn’t think there was anything to be gained from letting them in on what he was really doing: carefully watching the oncoming cars and preparing to shield the truck in case Faces or one of its minions decided to possess its driver and send it into an impromptu head-on collision.

  The turnoff to Matilija Hot Springs was on their left, and not well marked. Lopez almost missed it before Jason jabbed a finger forward and called “There it is!” He hit the brakes and veered the truck off the road with only a small squeal of tires and a somewhat larger jostling of his passengers.

  In front of them about fifty feet up, two metal posts rose on either side of the road. A chain stretched between them with a sign hanging from its center point: NO TRESPASSING. Lopez pulled the truck up to it and stopped. “We hike from here?”

  “Is it far?”

  “Another mile or so up the road.”

  Stone shook his head. “Too far, then. Give me a moment.” He got out and went over to where the chain was connected to the pole. He stared at it for a moment, centering his will on one link. After a moment, it came loose with a small pop. He unhooked it and dropped it, then waved Lopez forward. After the truck rumbled past, he re-hooked the chain, but didn’t repair the link. If they had to get out of here in a hurry it would be easier to break through the chain.

  They continued on. Lopez drove slowly, the headlights’ beams bouncing along a narrow road bounded by trees and rocks. Aside from the truck’s lights, there were no others along the road, giving their approach a tunnel-like quality.

  Stone kept a careful watch for any movement, his magical senses active. Aside from the occasional flash of a small animal darting across the road or between the trees, he saw nothing.

  The road opened into a dirt parking lot. This too was chained off with another NO TRESPASSING sign, but this time Lopez could pull the truck around it. Beyond the lot, they could see the dark shapes of a few buildings and many trees.

  “I think there’s a path leading to the springs,” Lopez said. And to Stone: “Do you need to go there specifically, or is this close enough?”

  “Hold on.” Stone got out of the truck and opened up his magical senses fully, taking in the energies of the area.

  Immediately, a sense of peace and well-being flowed over him. The various small injuries he’d sustained over the past few days didn’t fade, but it was as if they no longer mattered. As much as the tainted site of the grim shrine up above Creek Road had made him feel ill and uneasy, this place seemed to be its opposite. He felt the energies here moving in harmony, aspected toward health and healing instead of corruption and vengeance. Further, the ley line here thrummed with power—clean, untarnished power this time. It was the difference between a pool of sewage and a clear, fresh pond.

  “Al?”

  Stone started, reluctant to pull himself back from the area’s pleasant embrace. “What? Oh—yes, this will do fine for what I need.”

  He grabbed his bag from the back of the truck; Jason and Lopez pulled out the lantern and flashlights, and Jason strapped Lopez’s spare gun on and they both grabbed machetes. “Should I pull the truck around and leave the headlights on?” Lopez asked.

  “No,” Stone said. “You’re fine there. Just bring the lantern, and a few of those glow sticks. I don’t want to put the circle too close to the truck in case something goes wrong.”

  They got the lantern going and Stone began setting up. He slipped out of his coat and tossed it into the truck’s passenger seat, then walked about twenty feet away. As Lopez and Jason watched, prowling the perimeter with their machetes and flashlights in hand, Stone drew a large circle with blue sand using a tool that looked ridiculously like what pastry chefs used for making icing curlicues on cupcakes. Then, using a smaller version of the same tool, he painstakingly began drawing smaller structures both fully inside it and intersecting its edges. He ignored everything but his work, trusting his friends to keep watch for any potential threats.

  When he finished with the sand, he placed candles and crystals at strategic points, weaving the magic around and through them and the circle with utmost care. He focused on defense, protection, and clarity of mind: he wasn’t trying to summon or imprison anything with this circle, but merely to make contact while preventing it from attacking him. He could feel the vast energy of the ley line flowing through him, augmenting his own not-inconsiderable powers, making the working both easier and stronger than it would have been in another location. The energy of the earth worked in harmony with his purpose—if he’d been trying to do harm or injury with his circle, he was sure, he would have met far more resistance and the ley line would prove a hindrance rather than a help.

  When you got down to it, he realized, the people who had summoned He of Many Faces so many years ago had no doubt thought they were doing the right thing. They had seen their people decimated by these intruders’ sicknesses and had only sought vengeance for the destruction of their way of life. Yes, they were twisted and bloodthirsty by the standards of their peaceful culture, but a small corner of Stone’s mind could understand and sympathize with the desperate measures they’d taken.

  The only problem was, those desperate measures were now causing untold injury to people who had nothing to do with their crusade. Killing the actual people who had brought the diseases to their tribe was perhaps understandable, if not entirely moral, but killing their descendants—innocent men, women, and children who harbored them no ill will—that was different. Stone hoped he’d have a chance of convincing He of Many Faces that it had fulfilled its purpose and could now go home permanently. Sometimes spirits from other dimens
ions could be reasonable.

  Not too often, admittedly. But sometimes.

  It took him nearly an hour to finish the circle, though he didn’t realize it until he was done. He stopped in its center, swiping his hair off his forehead, and examined his handiwork. “There.”

  Jason and Lopez halted their sentry routes. “Done?” Jason asked. At Stone’s nod, he said, “Okay, so what happens now?”

  “Now we begin.” He carefully stepped out of the circle. “This is going to get a bit tricky: I can’t protect you unless you’re actually inside the circle, but if anything physical should show up, you’re going to need to deal with it.”

  “How does that work?” Lopez asked.

  Stone pointed. “Notice I’ve left some gaps from the center out to the edge. If you step carefully, you can exit there, even in the middle of the ritual. I’ve allowed for that in the casting. The only important thing to remember is this: whatever you do, do not break the circle. Don’t touch the sand. If you even smudge it a bit with your foot, all sorts of things I’d rather not think about could happen. Frying my brain with psychic backlash is probably the most pleasant one for you—and if anything is here, the rest won’t be any fun either.”

  “Got it,” Jason said. “He’s not kidding, Stan. I remember one of these before—I tripped, and we both almost got eaten by a demon. So take this one seriously.”

  Lopez nodded. “Are you expecting anything to show up?”

  “I always expect something to show up,” Stone said. “As far as what, though, I have no idea. Just—be ready for anything.”

  Jason snorted. “Big help, Al.”

  Lopez frowned. “What if other people show up? You know, people this thing’s possessed? We can’t just shoot ’em, or slice ’em up with the machetes. That’s murder.”

  “I know,” Stone said. “I didn’t say this would be easy. Just—do whatever you can to subdue them. Do you have your handcuffs? If you do, keep them close. Fortunately, it appears that even when possessed, the victims aren’t any harder to deal with physically than a normal person. And I really don’t expect to see any other people out here, do you? It seems fairly deserted.”

  Lopez nodded. “I hope you’re right.” He headed over to the truck and pulled out his handcuffs, along with a small bag which he handed to Jason. “Zip-ties. Just in case.”

  Jason stowed them in his pocket and let out a long sigh. “Okay, Al. Ready when you are.” He shrugged into the leather jacket Lopez had lent him. “You do your thing, and we’ll keep anything from jumping you.”

  “No.” Stone shook his head. “That will have to be Stan’s job. I need you to stay inside the circle. If anything goes wrong, I’ll need you as a source of additional power.”

  “But I can help if—” he started to protest.

  “No, Jason. I know you’d rather be tackling the bad guys than playing psychic battery, but I really need you to do this. I’m counting on the extra power to be able to manage this thing on my terms.”

  “Yeah, okay, fine,” Jason grumbled. “Your show, your rules. Let’s do this.”

  Stone ushered both men inside the circle and indicated where they should stand. This time he’d created a large center area, so they had room to move around. He himself took a position in the middle.

  With one final glance at Jason and Lopez to make sure they were where they belonged, he took several deep, cleansing breaths, double-checked his mental defenses, and lit each of the candles in turn with quick gestures. Then, closing his eyes, he willed the circle into life, immediately feeling the power of the ley line once again augmenting his efforts. More than ever he felt like the center point of a conduit, the arcane energy running through his body and around the circle like some kind of mystic electrical circuit. For a moment, he allowed himself to revel in the sensation of holding this much power at his command. It had been a long time since he’d worked in a circle this large.

  He only let himself do that for a few seconds, though: he knew he didn’t have a lot of time to do what he needed to do. Even with the ley line’s aid, his body could only handle the strain of channeling this kind of energy for maybe an hour at the maximum, and he didn’t know how long it would take to reach He of Many Faces—if he could even reach it at all. “Look sharp,” he murmured to Jason and Lopez, and reached out with his mind.

  “Good evening, mageling,” said a voice in his head.

  As if it had been there waiting for him all along.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Without opening his eyes, Stone could see it in front of him. Its form was a shifting miasma of vaguely humanoid shape that flared a deep blood red. Encased in a darker red sheath that seemed barely capable of containing its various roiling patterns, it resembled a glowing, bloody body bag full of small, angry creatures struggling in vain to escape.

  “I thought you would find me eventually,” it continued. Its voice in Stone’s head was smooth and mocking, but its strange cadence and unsettling tones made his mind want to reject it. “It was amusing to watch you struggle. And now you have found me—or rather, I have allowed you to find me. It will do you no good, though. You should have left when I gave you the warning.”

  Stone struggled to keep his mental “voice” even and calm. If he could keep it talking, perhaps if nothing else he could learn something. A chill ran through his body that had nothing to do with the magical energy coursing through him. “I couldn’t go,” he said. “I couldn’t leave my friend.”

  “You will suffer for that. He was mine.”

  “He was not yours. He is not of your people. He is not why you were summoned. You wanted him only for the power you could steal from him.”

  The figure seemed to shrug. “It is no matter. I do not need him. He was a tasty trifle at best. You, however, will die for defying me. You and your friends. You will die like all the rest.”

  Stone wasn’t going to get into a pissing match with an ancient, extradimensional spirit of vengeance. He had things he needed to find out. “What are you even doing here?” he asked.

  “You know my purpose,” it said. “I commend you. You are so young and you know so little, yet you found my source. You are the first to do that. It is unfortunate that I must kill you, but your power will feed me well.”

  “Not if I get you first,” Stone told it. “You’re an anachronism, Many Faces. You’re out of your time. You succeeded in the purpose you were summoned for many years ago, did you not? Why are you still here?”

  “I am always here. I will always be here.”

  “I don’t think so,” Stone said, shaking his head. “If you were, then why haven’t you killed any others over the years? Why now? Why twenty-seven years ago—if you even have the concept of a ‘year’ wherever you come from?”

  “I have always been here,” it repeated. “Watching. Waiting. You think I have but one calling? I have many callings, in many places. I am everywhere.”

  “Very impressive,” Stone said, letting the sarcasm come through in his mind-voice. “But do you know what I think? I think you were re-summoned. I think someone managed to pull your metaphysical arse back to this plane, and once you got here you set up shop and rediscovered your purpose in life. Tell me I’m wrong—if you can.” He grabbed hold of some of the energy from the ley line and fashioned it into a sort of mental amplifier. He didn’t know if it would work, but it was worth a shot.

  The thing made a sound that was sort of a derisive snort. “Mageling, you know so little. Even with all your pride and all your power, you are by my reckoning barely less ignorant than the children who blundered into what they did not comprehend.”

  “Children?” Stone asked.

  “She of my masters’ blood called me, but did not direct me. My connection to your world was weak then, because in their foolishness she and her companions summoned me imperfectly, foolishly. Since then they have grown in age,
if not in wisdom. This time they had an artifact of power to aid their summoning.” Contempt came through in its tone. “And still they do not know what they have done. Still, she of my masters’ blood does not direct me, so I am left free to set my own path.”

  “Oh?” Stone matched its contempt. “So ‘left free to set your own path,’ you simply continued blindly following your masters’ orders? You’re not very original, are you? Either that, or you’re lying.”

  Anger flared, pressing against Stone’s mental shields. “Have a care, mageling. I can crush you where you stand.”

  “I don’t think you can,” Stone told it. “I think if you could do that, you’d have already done. I don’t think anyone’s ever gotten this close to you, have they?”

  It made an unwholesome laugh. “And again your conceit shows, little one. Always you think you are the only one.”

  “Someone else knows about you, then?” That was news, unless it was talking about Jason and Lopez. Stone didn’t think it was.

  “The woman will die as well,” it said. “She was fortunate to disperse me temporarily—as I said, the prior summoning was incomplete and inexpert. I nearly succeeded in destroying her in my weaker guise, even as she worked her medicine—this time, she will not survive, as you will not. Now I am in possession of my full power. There are many to feed my hunger, and the hunger of my children. And none who can stop us.”

  “Go back where you came from,” Stone told it, again drawing in power from the ley line. His mental voice was strong and steady, echoing across the astral space where they existed. “Go back now. You’ve had enough vengeance. If you don’t go, I’m warning you: I will find a way to send you back. If I can’t do it on my own, I’ll bring others. I know what you are now, so it’s only a matter of time before I work out how to stop you, or one of the others I tell does. Your way is to work in secret—but I’ll make sure you’ll have no secrets. Even if you kill me, the others will hear, and they’ll come. That’s not a threat—it’s a promise. Take your vile little pets and go while you still can.”