Game of Stone

by R. L. King

  Keeping his focus on the thread, Stone gave him the abbreviated story, describing the game set and the previous crimes it had incited without going into detail. He didn’t mention the Harpies.

  “Holy shit,” Jason said when he finished. “So you think this last one is planning something big?”

  “I’m certain of it. This piece is physically larger than the others, and it’s the last one.”

  “But you don’t have any idea what it’s gonna do?”

  “No. Not yet. Keep going—I’ve got to make a call.”

  Stone pulled his phone out and punched Leo Blum’s number.

  The detective answered on the second ring. “Stone. Oh, fuck, you were not the guy I wanted to hear from tonight.”

  A chill ran up Stone’s back. “Did something happen?”

  “You tell me. Isn’t that why you’re callin’—to tell me that thing of yours has gone off?”

  “Yes, that’s exactly why I’m calling. Have there been any incidents?”

  “Not yet. But there are gatherings all over the fucking town, not to mention the surrounding areas. Do you have any details?”

  “Not yet. We’re in my car, headed toward San Francisco. The thread’s pointing north, so I suspect it’s there somewhere. But no idea where.”

  “Great.”

  “It gets better—it’s possible the piece could have activated as long as three hours ago. I—had it out of my sight for a while.”

  “What?”

  “Never mind. I’m just giving you all the information I have.”

  There was a long pause, then a loud sigh. “Okay. Keep me posted if you find anything. I’ll keep on top of radio chatter and call you back if anything turns up on my end.”

  When he put the phone away, Jason glanced over. “You’ve got a cop who knows about magic?”

  “He’s a mundane, but he’s from a magical family. Makes things easier in many ways.”

  They kept driving, and the thread kept pointing north, convincing Stone even further that whatever was going to happen, it would be in San Francisco. They were just passing SFO when Verity spoke up. “Jason?”

  Stone tensed, hoping the two of them wouldn’t get into it now, but Jason answered in an even tone: “Yeah?”

  Verity, too, appeared to be trying to maintain calm. “Why did you come up here? It’s not like you to just show up without calling.”

  His hands tightened on the wheel and he didn’t answer right away. “I made a decision, and I wanted to surprise you.”

  “Surprise me? What kind of decision?”

  “Maybe we should talk about it later.”

  “Perhaps you should,” Stone said. He glanced first at Jason, then at Verity. Their auras showed mild agitation, but it was clear that, for the moment at least, both of them had settled down from their previous emotional turmoil. He wanted it to stay that way, as he had far more important things to deal with right now than playing referee between two squabbling siblings.

  “No, I’d really like to know,” Verity insisted. “What decision?”

  Jason let his breath out and tapped a pattern on the steering wheel. “I was thinking about moving back up here.”

  “What?” Verity and Stone spoke at the same time.

  “Why?” Verity leaned forward, gripping the back of Stone’s seat. “Why would you move back here? You only have a few more months left with Fran, right?”

  “Actually, I can take the test in a couple months. I’ve been with Fran for two years, working a ton of overtime, and some of the stuff from my Academy time counts toward it too.”

  “But I thought you were going to work for Fran when you got your license.”

  “Do you not want me to come back here, V?” An edge crept into Jason’s tone as he flicked his gaze up toward the rearview mirror. “You two want to be alone or something?”

  Stone, who’d begun to relax just a bit, tensed again.

  “No,” Verity said patiently. “That’s not what I’m saying. It would be great to have you back. If—you know—you could…deal with things.”

  “Er—” Stone began.

  But Jason waved it off. “I’m not gonna talk about it right now. And anyway, I said I was thinking about it, not that I was gonna do it for sure.” He glanced at Stone. “I made you a promise, and it’d be a hell of a lot easier to keep it if I’m here instead of Ventura.”

  Stone frowned. “Jason—I told you before. You don’t have to—”

  “I know I don’t have to. But that’s not the point. Look—this isn’t the time. A lot’s changed since I left, and I don’t just mean what’s going on with you and V.” He nodded toward the figurine. “We need to deal with that thing, and we can’t be distracted. So let’s put it aside for now and talk about it later, okay?”

  In the back seat, Verity nodded. “Yeah. Probably best.” Her tone was odd, contemplative and faraway.

  As Stone anticipated, the figurine’s thread continued pointing toward San Francisco. The traffic grew heavier as they approached the city; when Jason exited 101 on Market Street, they found themselves in the usual congestion. “Where’s it pointing now?” he asked.

  “Sort of…northeast. Still far too hard to get any specifics.” He pulled a map from the glove box and switched on the dome light. “From here, it looks like we might be heading back toward the Embarcadero.”

  “You think it would pick the same spot twice?” Verity asked.

  “Who knows? I expect there are several large gatherings around that area, so it’s possible. We’ll just have to see as we get closer.”

  He continued alternating his attention between the figurine’s thread and the map as they continued up Market. “That’s odd.”

  “What?” Jason asked.

  “It’s shifting—less east, more north.”

  “Should I change direction?”

  “Not yet. Get out to the Embarcadero and follow it north. If what we’re looking for is along one of the piers, we should get a better idea from there.”

  Jason crept along, driving as aggressively as he could without getting them in an accident. The closer they got to the Embarcadero, the heavier the traffic got and the slower they moved. “I wish we knew something about whoever has the figurine this time,” Verity said. “It was a lot easier to pin it down before, when we knew what kind of target Iris might be looking for.”

  Stone didn’t answer. His hand tightened around the winged serpent, his heart beating faster. How had he not noticed he’d dropped the figurine on Verity’s floor? Even if he didn’t notice at the time, he should have realized he didn’t have it when he got home. If they didn’t get there in time—if even one person died because of his inattention—

  Stop it. Focus. If you fall apart now, you’ll never get there in time.

  How long did they have before the figurine directed its pawn to commit this final act? Was it another short window, like last time? Was it even shorter? Or, since this was the game’s climax and almost certainly something big, would the piece allow extra time? Was it possible the time windows were random, and they’d just gotten a short one with Iris? He had no idea, and speculation at this point was useless.

  “Anything?” Jason asked. “We’re getting close to Pier 39.”

  Stone glanced at his watch. It was after nine now. All around the area, fireworks shows—both legal and illegal—would be starting soon. “Still north, and a little west.”

  “West now?” Verity leaned over the seat to peer at the figurine. “Yeah…that’s weird. There’s nothing in that direction.”

  “Ghirardelli Square’s to the west,” Jason said. “We should be passing it soon.”

  “But it’s not that much west. Doc’s right—it’s more…northwest.”

  “If I didn’t know better,” Stone added, “I’d say it’s pointing into the Bay.” He consulted the map. “All that’s in that general direction, unless it’s happening on the other side of the Bay, is Alcatraz Island.”

  “But there
won’t be anybody out there this time of night, will there?” Verity asked. “You said whatever this is, it’s gonna want to hurt a lot of people. What could it do there?”

  “Pull off somewhere if you can,” Stone said, pulling out his phone.

  Blum answered fast. “Stone. You got something?”

  “Don’t know yet. Is anything going on at Alcatraz?”

  “Alcatraz? What the—”

  “Is there?”

  “No. The tours out there stopped hours ago. There’s nobody out there this time of night. Why? Is that where your thing is pointing?”

  “Generally that direction. We’re just west of Pier 39, a bit before Ghirardelli Square, and the thread is pointing out into the Bay. I suppose it’s possible it’s happening north of the—”

  “Oh, holy fuck,” Blum breathed.

  “What?”

  “You said it was pointed into the Bay? Are you sure?”

  “That’s certainly what it looks like. Why? Have you got—”

  “Damn, I hope I’m wrong.”

  “What is it, Detective? What are you thinking?”

  “Several of the ferry lines run special cruises on the Fourth. You know, dinner, dancing, and a great view of the lightshow. And those big boats hold hundreds of people.”

  49

  Stone went cold. “Bloody hell, Blum, you could be right. I’m watching the thread, and it’s moving—not quickly, but it’s moving.”

  Blum was silent for a moment. “Okay. Okay. I’m not too far from you—that’s one bit of good luck, anyway. Sit tight for a few minutes and let me make some calls.”

  “Detective—”

  “Just sit tight,” he repeated. “It won’t take long. I need to try getting hold of these boats. I’ll call it in that I got an anonymous tip from one of my informants.”

  “Hurry, Detective. I don’t think we’ve got long.”

  “I’ll call you back.”

  Miraculously, Jason found a parking spot in a nearby lot, hitting the gas to beat out another car as someone pulled out. The other driver blared his horn and yelled something out his window, but swept on by without stopping. “Now what?” Jason asked.

  Stone barely noticed, focused instead on the figurine. The thread was still moving slowly but steadily west. “We haven’t got time to wait long,” he said, his nerves jangling with stress. Finally, he couldn’t sit still any longer and flung open the door. “Come on.”

  “Where?” Verity asked.

  “There’s a marina near Pier 39. Jason, can you hotwire a boat?”

  “What?”

  “If Blum doesn’t call back soon, we’re going without him. Can you?”

  “Probably, but—”

  “Can you drive one?”

  “Sure, but—”

  Stone stalked off, back toward the pier.

  Verity and Jason hurried to catch up to him. “Al, you can’t just—”

  “We don’t have a choice, Jason.” He kept going, pushing his way past throngs of tourists. “I hope we won’t have to, but it’s best to be prepared.”

  They’d nearly reached the marina, with Stone stopping twice to re-orient on the thread’s direction, when his phone buzzed again. He yanked it from his pocket. “Detective? Do you have anything?”

  “Where are you?”

  “At the marina by Pier 39. Do you have anything?”

  “Yeah.” He sounded tired. “You aren’t gonna like this.”

  “Did something already happen?” Once again, a bolt of ice crawled up Stone’s spine, and he tightened his grip on the figurine.

  “Not yet. But I think I’m pretty sure where it’s gonna happen.”

  “Where? Were you right about the fireworks cruise?”

  “Yeah. Like I said, several of ’em are running tonight. I called it in, said I got an anonymous tip, and they were able to get through to ’em. All but one.”

  “Which one?”

  “One of the big Symphony boats. The Beau Monde.”

  They reached the edge of the marina. Stone stopped, leaning on the railing, looking out over the neat rows of vessels. “What do you know about it?”

  “They’re having a dinner cruise. Been out for a couple hours already, and they’re due out till midnight. Dinner, dancing, drinking, fireworks show, the whole bit.”

  “How many on board?”

  “Not sure—didn’t ask. But it’s big. I’d bet it’s at least a thousand, not counting the crew and service people.”

  “Damn. And you say you can’t reach them?”

  “Radio doesn’t get through—ours or Symphony’s. Just static. I’m sending a boat and a chopper out now to get a look.”

  “I doubt they’ll get near it.” Stone spun, scanning the crowds behind them. “Where are you? If you don’t get here soon, we’ll have to go without you.”

  “I’m almost to you. But I don’t see what you’re going to—”

  “Just get here, Detective. I’ll wait five minutes, then we’re leaving.”

  “Stone, damn it, you can’t—”

  Stone hung up and put the phone back in his pocket.

  “What’s going on?” Jason demanded. “Does he know which boat?”

  “Yes.” He checked the figurine again; the thread, stronger now, still pointed out into the bay to the northwest. “It’s called the Beau Monde—it’s some kind of bay cruise ship thing. They can’t raise it on the radio.”

  “So what are we gonna do—steal a boat and head out there on our own?”

  “Have you got any better ideas?”

  “We could let the police handle it,” Verity said. “If they know which boat it is—”

  “I can almost guarantee they won’t be able to get near it,” Stone said, turning to scan the crowd once more in the hope of spotting Blum. He nodded at the figurine. “This thing is strong—I can already tell it’s a lot more powerful than the others. If it’s jamming the radio, I’ll bet it will do something so the police can’t get near it either.”

  “So what makes you think we can?” Jason asked.

  “Because we’ve got the game piece. That’s part of the game.”

  “You’re guessing,” Verity said.

  “It’s an educated guess. And it’s all we’ve got right now. So we—ah! There’s Blum!”

  The stocky detective was pushing his way through the crowd, looking around. When he spotted Stone’s wave, he picked up speed and jogged over, glaring. “Damn it, Stone! What the hell are you—”

  “No time, Detective. We’ve got to go. Do you have access to a boat nearby?”

  He gaped. “You just wanna hop in a boat and head out there?”

  “Yes. And I want to do it now. Do you have one?”

  “No, I don’t have a damn boat!” He pulled out his phone. “I’d need to call it in, get authorization, and—”

  “No time,” Stone said again. He glared right back at Blum. “Detective, do you want to stop a disaster, or do you want to follow protocol? Because I’m going, with you or without you? You can arrest me later!”

  Blum looked as if he might argue, but then his phone buzzed. He held up a finger and focused on the conversation. “Damn. You sure? Fuck. Okay. Just—keep looking, but watch your back. Something weird’s up out there.”

  “What’s going on?” Jason demanded as Blum stowed the phone.

  The detective didn’t even bother asking who the new guy was. “They can’t find it.”

  “Huh?”

  But Stone sighed and nodded. “That’s what I was afraid of. You sent them out there where the boat’s supposed to be, and they can’t even see it. Right?”

  “Yeah. The chopper can’t get eyes on it. Our boat’s not there yet, but a ship that big, that lit up—it should be visible from the air. What the hell, Stone? Are you sayin’ they’re usin’ magic to conceal a whole fuckin’ cruise ship?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Stone spun and headed to the marina entrance. “Come on.”

  “Wait
—you just plannin’ to take a boat? They don’t keep the keys under the sun visor, you know. Do you even know how to drive a boat?”

  “Jason does.” Stone didn’t stop. “And we don’t need the keys.”

  Blum caught up with him as he stopped to scan the row of watercraft again. “What are you looking for?”

  “Jason?” Stone asked.

  “Yeah. We’re gonna need somethin’ fast, fairly simple, and not too new, otherwise there’s no way I’m gonna be able to hotwire it.”

  “Oh, great—now we’re stealing boats,” Blum groused.

  “Better idea, Detective?” Stone asked. “I’m listening.”

  “Shit, I—wait!” Blum took off running toward the end of one of the narrow piers.

  By the time Stone, Jason, and Verity caught up with him, he’d stopped in front of a medium-sized ski boat near the end of the pier. Two men sat inside on folding chairs, facing out toward the bay. “Hey!” he called.

  They looked startled. “Yeah?” the younger one asked warily, eyeing the four stressed-looking strangers converging on them.

  Blum flashed his badge. “Detective Leo Blum, SFPD. We need to borrow your boat. Police business.”

  “What the hell—?”

  “Please,” Stone said, glancing down at the figurine in his hand again. “You could save a lot of lives if you help us.”

  The older one stood. He was about sixty, wearing a leather jacket and a U.S. Army cap. “C’mon, Troy. Policeman needs the boat, he gets the boat. You know how to drive it?” he asked Blum.

  “I do,” Jason said.

  “Give ’em the keys, Troy.”

  “Damn it, Dad, I just got this thing paid off!” Troy protested.

  “Keys, Troy.”

  The younger man dug in his pocket and tossed a keyring at Blum. “Yeah, fine. But if it comes back banged up, I’m sendin’ the bill to you guys.”

  Stone was already climbing in. “We’ll be careful,” he called.

  “How far out is it?” Jason asked. After looking over the controls for a few moments, he’d settled in and expertly pulled the little boat from the slip and set off toward the bay.