Steel and Stone: A Novel in the Alastair Stone Chronicles

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Steel and Stone: A Novel in the Alastair Stone Chronicles Page 11

by R. L. King


  Two more people had entered the shop, but only an instant’s glance told him they didn’t fit in with the regular customers. A man and a woman, both stood tall and straight; the woman had dark skin and long, flowing white hair, while the man was red-haired and ruddy-cheeked. Both wore the high-collared, sweeping long coats Stone instantly recognized from his ordeal in Temolan—the woman’s in bright blue, the man’s in a rich chocolate brown with blue highlights. A series of pins and amulets decorated their lapels, and the woman wore a glittering golden necklace with a blue-gem pendant.

  Behind him, Stone became aware that the other customers were shuffling backward, stepping out of line and pressing themselves against the wall. Nobody, not even the ones closest to the door, attempted to leave the shop. Stone, moving slowly so as not to attract attention, shifted back along with the rest.

  No one spoke, and all eyes remained on the newcomers.

  “Welcome!” one of the servers behind the counter called. His voice shook a little and he looked terrified, but he nonetheless pasted a wide smile on his face. “You honor us with your presence. What can we get you today?”

  The dark-skinned woman offered a cold smile. “My companion wishes to go slumming. Apparently he has heard good things about your little…shop here.”

  “Er—of course, of course. We’re honored. Please tell us what you’d like and we’ll get it for you right away.”

  The red-haired man studied the menu as if examining bugs under a microscope, while his female companion swept her gaze over the crowd without acknowledging or even appearing to see any individual people.

  Stone recognized the look of magical sight. He thought about attempting to calm his aura—his experience in Las Vegas when he’d burned out his powers previously had shown him he could still do this even without magic—but then stopped. Everyone in this room looked like they were about to wet themselves in fear, so calm would stand out more than terror. He glanced at the others near him; they’d all cast their gazes downward, looking at the floor and shifting nervously from foot to foot. It didn’t take aura-reading ability to pick up the tightly wired tension in the room. Near him a woman, her face dead pale, clamped her hand over a toddler boy’s mouth and held him close.

  “What do you recommend?” the red-haired man asked. He sounded bored, as if speaking to an underling or a household pet.

  “Uh—well, the tarlfish sandwich is our most popular, sir.”

  The man considered. “All right. I’ll have that. Merinda?”

  “Please,” she drawled with contempt. “I can wait until we return home. Just…get me a cold tea, I suppose.”

  “You heard the lady,” the man said to the server. “And make it quick. We haven’t got all day to stand around in here.”

  “Yes, sir. Of course. Right away.” The server gestured at his fellow workers, who immediately began scurrying around to assemble the order.

  Pressed against the wall with the other customers, Stone took that opportunity to surreptitiously examine the two Talented. The first and most obvious thing he noticed was that their clothes and boots were spotlessly, unnaturally clean. Even the ground-skimming hems of their coats showed no hint of dampness or grime. Magic, he thought. It had to be. Not even that difficult, either—back home when he’d still been a white mage, he’d put a permanent enchantment on his black wool overcoat that allowed him to wear it in warmer weather without discomfort.

  Compared to the other customers, all of whom were dressed in drab, faded colors, the Talented pair’s outfits stood out for their bright, vibrant hues as well. Like the three men who’d attacked him in Temolan, these two wore shades of blue. Stone wondered if the color had some significance—did it indicate a social station, a role, or did people from Temolan simply have an unnatural affinity for blue?

  He dropped his gaze again as Merinda, bored, wandered over to the group of terrified customers. She examined them with the disinterested attention of an anthropologist observing a collection of zoo animals, then made a face suggesting she couldn’t imagine how anyone could live like these poor, backward savages. With a sweep of her coat, she turned back toward her red-haired companion. Stone forced himself to remain still and keep his aura steady.

  The servers had finished putting together their order. The man who’d waited on them hitched up his manic smile and slid a plate across the counter, along with two tall paper cups of tea. “There you are, sir. It’s an honor to serve you. Will you be dining here, or shall I package it up for you?”

  Stone didn’t miss the desperate undercurrent of his tone: please don’t stay please don’t stay… He also noticed he didn’t mention a charge for the food.

  At the words ‘dining here,’ the customers who had been sitting at the tiny tables all hastily got up and backed away, leaving all three empty.

  The red-haired man flicked his gaze toward the tables, and his lip curled in distaste. “No, we’ll take it with us.” He flipped a silver coin onto the counter. “That should suffice.”

  “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. Enjoy your meal.” Moving fast but taking utmost care, he wrapped the sandwich, put it in a bag, and added lids to the cups of tea. He offered the bag to him with shaking hands, glancing up at him and then back down at the counter.

  The man regarded the bag, then made a casual gesture and it lifted off the counter along with both cups. One of the cups floated to Merinda, who plucked it out of the air with her thumb and forefinger, and he took the other and the bag. The two of them started for the door.

  Stone could almost feel everyone holding their breath. The ordeal was almost over—all they had to do was hold it together for a few more seconds.

  The two Talented reached the door. The red-haired man raised his hand to open it, then stopped. Slowly, he opened the bag, looked in it, and turned back to the counter. “I ordered dipping sauce with this. Are you trying to cheat me, pig?”

  Terror flooded across the server’s face. Of course the man hadn’t ordered sauce—every silent, frightened person in the shop had heard every word of his order—but he couldn’t say that. “Sir. I—”

  The man strode with deliberate calm back into the shop. “You are trying to cheat me. You thought I wouldn’t notice until I was home. That I wouldn’t be bothered to return.”

  “Sir—please. I’m sorry. Let me—”

  From the doorway, Merinda watched with amusement.

  Stone risked a glance between the two of them, anger growing, forcing himself not to let it show in his aura or his body. These two had intended to do this. They’d meant to as soon as they’d entered the shop. He didn’t need aura reading to be sure of it.

  “So…” the man said. “What should I do with a worthless, dishonest pig?” He set the bag and cup on the counter, then put a finger to his chin and regarded the server’s fellow trembling workers. “What do you think I should do with him? He makes you all look bad, after all.”

  None of them answered. They all stared down at the floor as if they knew exactly what was coming.

  “I could burn down your entire pathetic shop,” the man mused. “What do you think, Merinda? Are you in the mood for some roasted pig?”

  “Please…” the server whispered. “Please don’t…I’m sorry…”

  The man’s gaze settled back on him. “Do you take responsibility for your mistake, then?”

  “Yes…yes, sir. I do. I’m sorry.” His voice shook so hard his words were barely intelligible.

  Keep it together, Stone told himself, struggling to call up his meditation technique, to calm his mind just enough so he didn’t spring at these two arrogant wastes of space. Nothing could come of that but his own death and probably those of everyone present.

  The man appeared to consider again. “All right, then. I’m feeling generous today, so I won’t make your entire misbegotten lot suffer for your stupidity.” With no change of expression, he jerked a hand upward.

  The server didn’t even have time to scream. His body lifted off the floor,
his hands flying to his neck as he struggled and gasped for a breath. The red-haired man allowed him to hang there for a few seconds, then made a sharp gesture to the side.

  Everyone in the shop saw the flash of purple light, and they all heard the sickening snap as the man’s neck broke. Audible gasps, quickly stifled, went up from several people.

  The Talented man held the body suspended for only a moment, then let it drop in a heap behind the counter. “There,” he said, with no more inflection in his voice than if he’d just asked for a cup of coffee. He addressed the other servers. “Let that be a lesson to you. You won’t ever try to cheat one of your betters again, will you?”

  “N-no, sir. No. Never,” one of them stammered.

  “Good. That’s what I want to hear.” Using magic, he picked up the bag and the cup. He scanned the crowd, none of whom dared to look at him. Then, without another word, the two of them swept from the shop. The bell on the door tinkled as it shut behind them, jarringly loud against the unnatural quiet.

  For several seconds, silence hung in the air as everyone turned toward the window and watched the two Talented leaving. Then, as the pair disappeared around a corner, a loud collective sigh of relief sounded from all sides of the room. Stone might have thought it callous, but he understood it and didn’t hold it against them: it could easily have been all of them, instead of one. Behind the counter, one of the man’s fellow servers bent to move him aside and lay him out on the floor, while the other moved to a nearby telephone. Some of the customers quickly left without ordering, while others returned to their places in line. All of them looked frazzled and shell-shocked.

  Stone did his best to calm his rage and his jangling nerves. “Does that happen often?” he asked the man he’d been talking to before.

  The man looked startled. “The Talented showing up? No. I’ve never seen it happen at this place, anyway. But I’ve heard a lot of stories. You’ve never seen them?”

  “No. Not…here.” Stone let his breath out, reminded once again of that old Twilight Zone episode. Apparently, the Talented were capricious and cruel enough that even visiting a takeaway restaurant was enough to cause the nonmagical people to hyperventilate in terror, even before they got away with murder. He glanced at the counter, where the other server had joined the first to tend to their fallen coworker.“That’s…barbaric. I felt so helpless…so angry. It’s—”

  “We got off easily.” The woman behind Stone glanced back toward the door, then lowered her voice. “One of my friends told me one time three of them went to a restaurant downtown, and when their order wasn’t cooked the way they liked, they lit the waiter on fire, then went back to the kitchen and torched the chefs. The whole place nearly burned down. My friend said they thought it was funny.”

  “And they get away with this?” Stone’s outrage rose, despite his attempt to blend in. As a mage himself—at least back on Earth—he had the power to do the things these so-called “Talented” did, but the thought of these people not only doing them but getting away with them angered him. “People just—put up with it?”

  Both the woman and middle-aged man gave him odd, fearful looks. “What can we do?” the man asked. “We have no powers. The Talented do what they like, and all we can do is stay out of their way and hope we don’t set them off.”

  Stone thought about the looks on the group’s faces—on the doomed server’s face—and clenched his fist in his pocket. Nobody should have to live like that. Once again, he wondered if Harrison was one of these “Talented,” and if he condoned—or even participated in—this kind of reprehensible behavior. If he did, would Stone even want to learn magic from him?

  The man and woman were still flashing him nervous looks, so he forced himself to calm down and nodded. “Of course,” he said. “I hope it doesn’t happen again anytime soon.”

  “You and me both,” the woman said fervently. “I thought I was going to faint. If I had, they’d probably have killed me too.”

  Amazingly, it appeared the remaining servers intended to go back to business as usual, but Stone was no longer hungry. He left the line and headed out. As he walked down the street and looked for a place to sit so he could calm down, his heart continued to race, adrenaline coursing through him. Give it up, he told himself in disgust. You can’t change this world. If you try, they’ll kill you.

  You might if you got your magic back, his interior voice pointed out. At least you might show a few of these entitled bastards what happens when their prey fights back.

  But that wasn’t happening yet—it might never happen. He tried not to think that he might be stuck in this world as one of the “Dim” forever, at the mercy of these monstrous mages, if he couldn’t find a way home. A stray thought struck him suddenly from nowhere: a memory of the atrocities he’d recently found out his own ancestors had committed—acts every bit as horrible as those of the Talented. You don’t get a pass. You could easily have been one of those monsters if you’d been born here. Don’t think for a moment you’re immune.

  Still seething but now with a side of guilt, he watched people drift past. They talked among themselves, unaware of what had just happened so close by—or perhaps they had seen it so many times they’d grown indifferent to it. He wasn’t sure, and didn’t want to know. He’d intended to do more exploring, perhaps looking for a gambling hall where he could question people about Harrison, but his encounter with the Talented redirected his plans.

  If he wanted to find out about the Talented, he’d need to talk to one of them. And he only knew one who wasn’t likely to kill him for the attempt.

  11

  Though none of his deliveries had been near it, Stone had no trouble finding the hospital/clinic building where he’d recovered from his injuries. He pushed open the door and stepped inside, glancing around.

  The waiting room wasn’t as full as it had been when he’d left, probably because it was later in the day. About half the chairs were occupied by what looked like a mix of sick and injured individuals; nobody’s problems looked life-threatening. That’s good—perhaps that means they’ll have time to talk to me today.

  He walked up to the desk, where a woman he didn’t recognize was writing something in a book. “Excuse me…”

  She glanced up, then back down. “Sign in and take a seat,” she said in a rote voice. “We’ll call you when it’s your turn.”

  “I’m…not here for treatment,” he said. “I was hoping to talk with someone here.”

  The woman frowned, looking up again. “Talk with someone? Who?”

  “Well…Tanissa, if she’s here. Or if she’s not, Byra.”

  “About what?” Suspicious, narrowed eyes joined the frown.

  “Well—I was a patient here recently. I had some questions. Is Tanissa here?”

  “Yes, but she doesn’t have time to—”

  “Please.” Stone put on his best persuasive tone. “I promise I won’t take up much of her time—I know how busy she is. But it’s terribly important.”

  She bit her lip, considered, then sighed. “I’ll see if she wants to talk to you,” she said at last, grudgingly. “What’s your name?”

  “Stone. Tell her she worked on me a couple of weeks ago. Saved my life. I want to thank her for that, too.”

  “Take a seat.”

  Stone didn’t take a seat—he figured if he hadn’t managed to pick up any exotic illnesses from this dimension yet, he probably wouldn’t do it from casual contact, but there was no point in taking chances. He leaned against the wall and wondered how long he’d have to wait. The room contained no magazines or other diversions; nobody else seemed to mind this. They talked quietly or remained silent, staring straight ahead.

  Nearly half an hour passed before anything happened. In the meantime, the woman continued calling out names, and one or more of the other patients got up and shuffled to the back. Occasionally, the door to the back would open and someone would come out, or someone new would come in from outside.

  Ston
e had decided he’d give it another ten minutes before saying something, when the woman looked his way. “Stone?”

  He hurried over. “Yes?”

  “Tanissa says she’ll talk to you, but only for a few minutes. She’s very busy, and has other cases she needs to attend to.”

  “Thank you so much. I promise, I’ll make it quick.”

  She nodded toward the door. “Through there, first door on the right. Wait for her there.”

  The door opened on a small, windowless room that looked like a combination between a storeroom and an office, with a tiny desk and single guest chair wedged between metal shelves stacked with cardboard boxes. Stone took a seat in the guest chair and amused himself by scanning the papers on the desk. After two weeks he could now recognize some of the simple words, though not many.

  After a while, the door opened again and a woman appeared. “Stone?”

  Stone leapt to his feet. “Tanissa, I presume.”

  She chuckled. “That’s me. Sit down—we’re not formal here.”

  He resumed his seat, looking her over. She appeared to be in her middle twenties, sturdily built without quite reaching plump, her brown hair cut in a no-nonsense bob. Her simple but well-made outfit was topped with a white coat. No blue, Stone noticed immediately. None of the pins or amulets he’d seen on the Talented, either. She didn’t look any different from the other doctors he’d seen.

  Tanissa returned his scrutiny. “You’re looking a lot better than last time I saw you.”

  “I should hope so,” he said dryly. “Thank you for that, by the way. I understand I was in rather bad shape when I was brought in.”

  “That’s an understatement. The man who brought you said he found you out in the Barrens, in the middle of the street.” Her curiosity showed clearly on her face, but she didn’t ask.

  “Yes.” He took a deep breath. “Tanissa, I wonder if I might ask you a few questions.”

  Her expression grew guarded. “Maybe. It depends on what they are. I don’t have a lot of time—”

 

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