by King, R. L.
Stone examined each of them in turn. On the surface, they looked like exactly what he’d asked for—a bizarre collection of crystals, rolls of delicate wire, feathers, various colors of chalk, candles, several hunks of different-colored and –sized rock and metal, and, strangest of all, a sealed jar full of liquid in which a pair of what looked like eyeballs floated.
“Do they meet your approval?” Waldo asked. “Only the finest components, of course.”
Stone nodded at Verity. “Apprentice?” To Waldo, he said, “This is part of her training as well. I want her to learn to differentiate quality in magical components.” He stepped aside to give Verity the best view.
She moved into position, studying each item in turn.
Waldo, meanwhile, studied Verity, an unwholesome smile slipping back onto his pudgy face.
Stone glared at him. “Interesting shop you’ve got here,” he said, in an effort to direct Waldo’s attention away from his apprentice.
“Yes, it is,” he agreed. “You’re lucky I was open. Most of the shopkeepers only open at night, or by appointment. I was only here because I happened to be examining a new shipment.” He didn’t specify what sort of shipment it was. His smile widened. “Are you sure you won’t take advantage of any of our other services? Our ladies know exactly what it takes to satisfy the…” he glanced over at the two women on the couch “…magically gifted gentleman.”
“No,” Stone said. “Thank you. How much do we owe you, then?”
“Well…” he said, his gaze meeting Stone’s and then skittering away. “This does represent some of my best stock. These especially—” he pointed at several of the rocks and hunks of metal “—were quite difficult to acquire, and will take me some time to replace.”
“How much?” Stone asked again.
“Say…two thousand for the lot?”
The price was exorbitant, and Stone knew it. He was sure Waldo knew he knew it. But before he haggled over it, he needed to know if Waldo was trying to cheat them in other ways.
To Verity, he asked, “What do you think of the quality?”
She moved her hand over the hunks of rock, then stopped, hovering it over one of the larger ones. “I think that piece there doesn’t look right.”
Waldo’s brow furrowed, and he frowned. “That’s impossible,” he said. “As I told you, I offer nothing but the finest quality.”
Verity shook her head. “That’s not quality. That’s crap, and you know it.” She pointed. “And so is that one there.”
Stone noticed that she still had the telltale glazed-over look that indicated she was viewing the world through magical sight.
Waldo’s creepy leer shifted to a more dangerous expression, and his eyes got hard. “You shouldn’t allow your apprentice to give such insult,” he said, his jaw set.
“It’s not insult if it’s true,” Stone said. He had to take the chance that Verity knew what she was talking about—if he accused the man of trying to cheat them and was wrong, the two of them could be in for trouble.
Verity nudged him ever so slightly and flicked her gaze to the side. Stone took a quick look behind them.
Two other men lounged in the doorway, watching the proceedings. They wore old-fashioned suits, one blue, one gray, filled out with muscle.
“What’s this about?” Stone asked.
Waldo shrugged. “You can’t begrudge a man a bit of security.”
“We’re not here to cause any trouble,” Stone said. “Just sell us the items—at a reasonable price, given their quality—and we’ll be on our way.”
“First your apprentice insults me by questioning my wares,” Waldo said, “and now you add to the insult. I think perhaps you should make your purchases and then go, before I’m forced to do something I might regret.” He smiled. “Of course, if you can’t afford my prices, there are…other ways you might pay.” He leered at Verity again. “Your type—the little goth girl—is very popular with my customers here. You could easily make thousands in a week.”
“Fuck off,” she said, her face twisting in disgust. “Come on, Doc. Let’s—”
Stone put a hand on her shoulder, but he was looking at Waldo. “Not your best choice,” he said to the man, his voice calm, his eyes still.
“Oh? And what is my best choice?” Waldo’s smile hid a sneer.
“Well, that’s obvious, isn’t it? Sell us what we’ve come for, and let us leave here peacefully.”
“Or what?” Waldo asked. He nodded past Stone, and the two men in the doorway moved closer, taking positions flanking Stone and Verity, a few feet back. “It appears that you’re outnumbered.”
Stone shook his head. “No, I don’t think we are.”
“I don’t see anyone else,” Waldo said, making a show of looking around. “Unless you’re hiding them with an invisibility spell, and that never would have made it past my wards.”
“We don’t need anyone else,” Stone said, still calmly. This was one of those bluffs that you had to run through to the end. He had no idea if he retained any conscious control over his aura in his mundane state, so he called on his natural willpower to help him remain calm, despite the pounding of his heart. If he screwed this up, he could get both himself and Verity killed.
“Indeed?” Waldo tilted his head. “I’m not hearing anything to impress me, I’m afraid.”
“I’m surprised,” Stone said. “I’d have thought you more knowledgeable about the magical community.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” Waldo said.
Stone shrugged. “Come on, Waldo. Do yourself a favor. I’ll give you six hundred for the components. That’s a fair price, even if those two pieces weren’t substandard. You know it is. No need to escalate things.”
Waldo crossed his arms over his chest. “You seem to be implying a threat, but I’m not seeing what you’re basing it on. Care to enlighten me, Mr.—”
“Ah. Right. Forgive me—I didn’t introduce myself. Frightfully bad manners.” He offered his hand. “Alastair Stone.” He paused, and raised an eyebrow. “Surely you checked the aura.”
He was taking a chance, though the bluff could still work either way, regardless of whether Waldo had heard of him. It wasn’t mere ego that he thought it a good possibility that Waldo had. Although the magical community was not tight-knit, and black and white mages generally didn’t interact much, it was still fairly small and word got around. Stone knew, without any particular conceit, that he was among the top five most formidable practitioners, black or white, in the western United States. He was also one of the most visible—those like Madame Huan and Stefan Kolinsky were much more reclusive, and thus less likely by choice to have their names recognized. Mages didn’t have “rock stars,” per se, but if they did, Stone was certainly one of them.
Whether that meant anything to this slimy magic-shop proprietor was another thing entirely. Even if it didn’t, though, Stone hoped his confidence convinced the little man that it wasn’t worth the risk of messing with him.
Waldo’s expression told him everything he needed to know. He stuck out his hand and shook Stone’s, then pulled back quickly, swallowed, and flashed a tobacco-stained smile. This time it was almost genuine, though it still didn’t make it as far as his eyes. “Dr. Stone! It’s—er—a pleasure!”
“Indeed,” Stone said. He glanced pointedly at Waldo’s enforcers, first one and then the other.
“It’s all right,” Waldo said hastily to them, waving them off. When they slunk back to wherever they’d come from, he spread his hands. “You’ll have to forgive my excess concern. We get all kinds around here,” he said. “From all over the world.”
“Of course,” Stone said. “I understand completely.” He glanced at his watch. They were cutting it very short. The cab might already be outside. “About the items, then—”
For a moment, Waldo looked like he’d
try to haggle again, but then sighed. “Six hundred is acceptable,” he said. “Do we have a deal?”
Stone was already pulling chips from the inner pockets of his coat. He put six black ones on the silk cover, then added a green one. “We’ll have the bag, too.”
“Of course.” Waldo shoveled items into the tote bag as fast as he could manage without appearing careless. “Pleasure doing business with you, Dr. Stone. And you, too,” he added to Verity. His leer had changed to a look of disappointment. “It’s a shame,” he said. “You really could have made thousands working for me.”
Verity was about to say something, but Stone nudged her and picked up the bag, motioning for her to grab the cauldron. “Come on, apprentice. We need to be on our way. Good day,” he said, nodding to Waldo and the two women.
Neither of them said anything until they were outside. Stone strode purposefully forward until they were halfway across the parking lot, and then he slowed down and let his breath out. “That,” he said, “is not a performance I’d care to repeat.”
“You were great, Doc,” Verity said, grinning. “Did you see his face when you told him who you were? I had no idea my master was such a badass.”
“Your master was a bit petrified,” Stone admitted. “If they’d called my bluff—”
Her grin widened, and she punched his arm lightly. “Eh, I could’ve taken ‘em,” she said. “And hey, look—there’s the cab.”
Stone looked up the street; it was just coming around the block and heading toward them. “Tell me,” he said, “did you really see something wrong with those two pieces?”
“Nah,” she said. “I just figured, guy as sleazy as that, he’s gonna try something. So I watched his aura when I moved my hand around. When it perked up, I took a chance.”
“Well done,” Stone said, impressed.
“Hey, if he’s gonna be a sleazeball and underestimate me because I’m just a girl, you’re damn right I’m gonna take advantage of his ass,” she said.
Stone chuckled. “You frighten me sometimes.”
“Just keepin’ you on your toes, Doc,” she said. “C’mon. Let’s hurry up before this guy spooks out and bolts. I don’t want to wait here another half-hour, do you?”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Their first inkling that something was wrong came when they arrived at the rendezvous point and no one was there to meet them.
Verity looked around, then at her watch. “Two o’clock, right?”
Stone nodded. “Let’s wait a few minutes—I get the impression they’re not always the best about punctuality.”
When fifteen minutes passed and still nobody showed up, Stone began to pace. When half an hour passed, he stopped pacing. “Come on,” he said grimly. “Something’s wrong. Keep your magical sight up, and let me know if you see any auras.”
He slung the bag of components over his shoulder and pulled out a flashlight. Verity pulled another one out of her own bag, and they set off down the tunnel toward the Forgotten’s area.
The walk normally took ten minutes; with the care they observed, it took them double that before they approached the big central room. They could hear the yelling voices halfway up the passageway.
Verity glanced at Stone, her eyes questioning. “No guard?” she said under her breath.
“Stay alert,” he said. “And be ready with a shield.”
She nodded, and they continued toward the entrance.
The Forgotten were in turmoil. They crowded around in a loose circle, all of them facing inward, where Malcolm and his new lieutenant Zenna stood. It was hard to tell, but it seemed there were fewer of them.
“—got to move,” a grizzled man in a heavy plaid coat was saying, shaking his fist for emphasis. “We can’t stay here no more!”
“Yeah!” yelled a woman. “Whatcha gonna do, Malcolm? How many of us they gonna have to take before you see it ain’t workin’?”
“Luke woulda moved us by now,” a young man said.
A general murmur of assent rippled through the crowd.
“Wow,” Verity said. “They’re really agitated. Their auras are all crazy.”
“What’s going on?” Stone called, projecting to get over the din. “What’s happened?”
Most of the crowd ignored him, but Malcolm glanced up and noticed him and Verity standing there. “Look!” he yelled, his voice booming even louder than Stone’s. “Look! They’re back! C’mon, we gotta give ’em a chance!”
The crowd muttered and rumbled. “They ain’t gonna help us!” a woman yelled. “He ain’t got no magic no more, and the girl’s just a kid!”
More approving rumbles.
“Move aside!” Malcolm yelled above her. “C’mon, let ’em up here. At least let’s hear ’em out!”
Stone motioned for Verity to get behind him, and did his best to bull his way through the crowd toward where Malcolm and Zenna were. Usually he left such work for Jason, who was much more physically suited for it, but the muttering group reluctantly moved aside and let them through until they stood in front of the Forgotten’s two leaders.
“What’s happened?” Stone asked again.
“That thing came for us, that’s what happened!” the man in the plaid coat yelled. “It came right in here and attacked us!”
“And we couldn’t do nothin’ about it!” a woman shouted.
“Everybody be quiet!” Malcolm yelled. “Lemme talk to ‘em! Just settle down a minute—you’ll all get to say your piece!” He turned toward Stone and Verity, and his face was grim. “They’re right, though.”
“It came in here?” Stone demanded.
“It was horrible,” Zenna said. Her face was ashen gray under her golden tan, her eyes big and full of terror. “Huge, with fangs and scales and…” she shuddered.
Stone let his breath out. If the mage had grown bold enough to attack the Forgotten in the heart of their lair, it meant only two things: he was no longer content to pick off stragglers for power, and was now coming to get it, or else he wanted the Forgotten out so he could claim their territory. Possibly both. “How many did it kill?” he asked.
“Five,” Malcolm said. “Everybody scattered when it showed up. Couple who were closest and had guns tried to fight it, but it didn’t work, so they tried to run too. Five dead, three more hurt.”
“Hurt?” Stone asked. “That’s not its usual tactic, is it? Did the ones it killed disappear? Only clothes and ashes left?”
Malcolm nodded. “Yeah. But three more got slashed up, like with knives. We’re takin’ care of ’em now.”
“They oughta be in a hospital,” Zenna said. “But we don’t trust hospitals. They got a lot of Evil there, too.”
“I’ll help them,” Verity said, stepping up alongside Stone. “Show me where they are.” She glanced at him in question.
“Go,” Stone said. When Zenna waved for Verity to follow her and they faded into the crowd, he turned back to Malcolm. “It’s up to you. I can’t tell you to stay if you want to go—but how do you know they won’t follow you wherever you end up? And for that matter, where will you go? You said the other areas of the Underground are already occupied.”
Malcolm sighed, clenching his fists. “I know,” he said. “Believe me, I know. That’s what I’m tryin’ to tell ’em, but they ain’t listenin’.” He looked at Stone with hope in his eyes. “Did you find what you were lookin’ for? Can you do what you were tryin’ to do?”
“I did, and I can,” Stone said. “With Verity’s help, I can do it. But the decision isn’t mine to make. You tell me what you want us to do. If you want to stay here, we’ll help you. We’ll track him down and deal with him.”
Malcolm scanned the crowd of his fellow Forgotten. He looked like he wanted to believe Stone, but fear showed in his dark eyes. “I think we should try it,” he said. “If you two are willin’. But I don’
t know if I can convince everybody else.”
“See if you can get them to let me talk to them,” Stone said.
“Dunno if it’ll do any good, but okay.” Malcolm turned to face the crowd. “Listen up, ever’body! Doc Stone wants to talk to you! He’s already helped us out, and his friend’s fixin’ up our wounded. Will ya listen to him?”
There was more muttering and shuffling, but after a moment it died down until it was much quieter. “Yeah, okay, but not for long,” the man in the plaid coat said. “We gotta get to packin’ up our stuff.” He focused on Stone. “Say what ya got to say.”
Stone took a deep breath. He didn’t miss all the suspicious faces among the fearful, bedraggled crowd. He didn’t miss how easy it would be for them to turn on him or panic and bolt if he said the wrong thing. It’s just like lecturing your classes, he told himself. Hell, some of these people dress better than some of your students.
“Right, then,” he said. “You’ve got a choice, as Malcolm here has no doubt pointed out to you. You can stay and fight, or you can run. I know it’s tempting to run. I’ve seen this thing—I know how frightening it is, and how dangerous. I watched it kill Luke, and there wasn’t a damned thing I could do to stop it. So I understand your fear.”
“If you can’t stop it,” somebody yelled from the back, “then why you even talkin’ to us? We gotta go before it comes back!”
Stone held up a hand, trying to quiet them before the crowd got up a head of steam again. “I said there wasn’t anything I could do. That was then. Things are different now.”
“So you can fight that thing?” somebody else demanded. “You can take out the monster? I thought you ain’t got no magic!”
Stone pulled himself up taller and projected a confidence he didn’t entirely feel. “First of all,” he said, “let’s get something straight: that thing that’s been attacking your people is not a monster. Not in the general sense of the word.”
Murmuring again. “It sure as hell is,” the man in the plaid jacket said. “We all saw it! It was huge, with fuckin’ enormous teeth, and big red eyes, and scales, and things wavin’ around under its mouth!”