Rite of Passage: An Alastair Stone Urban Fantasy Novel (Alastair Stone Chronicles Book 26)

by R. L. King

  “Stefan!” he yelled, launching himself upward with a levitation spell. “Get out of there!”

  But Kolinsky didn’t even seem to hear him. If he did, he didn’t move.

  Stone had only a second to think. Did he dare try to move Kolinsky? If he broke the dragon’s concentration, there was a strong chance the fissure would come unzipped again, and they’d have to start over. From the look of things, Kolinsky didn’t have enough in him to start over.

  Better to start over than to let that thing hit him!

  He whirled in the air, reaching out with telekinetic energy to lift Kolinsky from his spot in front of the fissure. If he could do it carefully enough, perhaps he could—

  Nothing happened.

  The spell hit something before it could settle around the dragon, and seemed to bounce off.

  Of course! He’s got some kind of shield up—

  Behind Stone, the truck’s brakes screeched, and its horn blared again. He spun to see what was happening in time to see it veering sharply to the right, brakes still squealing.

  It’s trying to turn away!

  But a vehicle that big couldn’t turn that fast—not at the speed it was going. Stone watched, transfixed, as the truck tilted onto its right-side wheels, its momentum carrying it forward. It’s going to miss them!

  But his relief turned to horror and his cheer died in his throat as he realized what was on the corner the truck was cutting through, still tilted crazily to one side.

  The gas station.

  He could do nothing but watch. The truck finally overbalanced and tipped over, slamming onto its right side, still sliding forward. It crashed through the first bank of gas pumps in a howl of screeching metal, its weight and momentum carrying it past them to take out the second bank. A massive fireball erupted upward, instantly engulfing both the truck and the pump area. Stone could feel the heat from where he was, like sitting in the crowd during rock-concert pyrotechnics. The truck finally skidded to a stop halfway into the street, still on fire.

  Stone dropped back to his vantage point on top of the ruined car. “Stefan! Hurry up! We’ve got to get out of here!” He risked a glance at the gas station again. The initial fireball flare had settled down, but they weren’t out of danger yet. With that many pumps uprooted, the flames could easily reach the tanks below. If that happened, the whole corner could go up—or worse.

  He leaped off the car and ran toward Kolinsky. “Stefan!”

  The fissure was almost closed now, but the last bit seemed to be fighting the dragon. Only a tiny section remained, perhaps a foot long, but it bulged against Kolinsky’s efforts as if something on the other side were fighting for its life.

  Stone skidded to a stop next to him. “We’ve got to go,” he said between puffing breaths. “The place is on fire! It could go up any second!”

  Kolinsky ignored him. His arms shook as they stretched out, his fingers only a few inches from the remaining bit of the fissure. Sweat stood out on his forehead, and his pale face was set into a grimace of concentration.

  Stone’s first instinct was to try to help him—if the dragon could do it in x amount of time, the two of them could do it in x – y amount…right? Sometimes, that was the way magic worked, like in rituals—the more mages participating, the higher the power and the easier it was to manipulate the energies.

  But this wasn’t a ritual, and it wasn’t the kind of magic Stone was used to dealing with. He had no idea what kind of process Kolinsky had used to close the fissure. If he tried to help now, he might succeed—or he might unwittingly upset everything the dragon had been trying to do.

  He couldn’t take the chance. He flicked his gaze toward the fire again. Was it getting bigger? He couldn’t tell, but it was definitely still there. Something was feeding it.

  Two things happened then, nearly simultaneously.

  With a massive whump, a column of flame erupted upward from the gas station, followed by an even more massive explosion.

  At that same moment, the fissure’s last tiny section winked out. The hole sealed, and the eerie purple energy disappeared.

  Stone yelled—okay, he might have screamed—as the explosion sent bits of the gas pumps, chunks of concrete, and pieces of vehicles rocketing into the intersection toward them. He had the presence of mind to throw up a shield, but barely. He didn’t think it would stop all of that, but at least it might help to—

  A rock-hard arm clamped around him, nearly crushing his ribs.

  Everything around him disappeared.

  21

  Stone landed on his knees, sending shooting pains up through his torso and his bruised ribs. He fell forward, puffing and disoriented, catching himself on his hands an instant before he toppled to the floor. He had no idea where he was, but it was pitch dark.

  “Are you all right, Alastair?”

  Kolinsky’s voice next to him sounded more ragged than usual. The lights switched on, revealing a room furnished with expensive, understated taste.

  Stone swallowed hard and looked up. Kolinsky was on his knees too, in the process of struggling up. “Bloody hell…” he got out between breaths. “Did we do it? Did you do it?” After a moment, he recognized his surroundings. They were inside one of Kolinsky’s homes—the one in Los Altos Hills that he hadn’t seen since he and the dragon had performed a ritual here years ago.

  “Yes.” Kolinsky still didn’t look entirely steady, but he crossed the room to a small bar. “Would you like a drink? It appears you could use one.”

  “I would love a drink. Thank you.” He dragged himself to his feet and dropped down onto a sofa, hoping he wasn’t too covered in grime but not caring much if he was.

  While Kolinsky prepared the drinks, Stone took stock of himself. He was exhausted, he smelled like smoke, and every bone in his body hurt—especially his ribs, where presumably the dragon had grabbed him before performing that ever-so-useful spell, “Exit, Stage Left.” Apparently dragons could do it faster than he could, which was a damned good thing. If Stone had needed time to prepare before he could get out of there, he’d probably be road pizza right about now. All things considered, a few bruised ribs were a fair trade. “Are you all right? You didn’t get hurt, did you?”

  “No. Merely very tired.” He returned, taking the chair opposite Stone’s sofa, and offered him a glass.

  “Yes, it did look like that thing was taxing even your abilities—which is rather terrifying.” Stone took an experimental sip. Damn, that was good stuff. He wouldn’t have expected anything less, but he immediately followed the sip with a larger swallow.

  “Indeed.”

  “So—did you get any sense of what it was? And more importantly, what it was doing there?”

  Kolinsky drained his glass in one smooth swallow and sighed. It was odd seeing him this way—pale, his hair in disarray, his fine suit somehow wilting on him. Already, though, he appeared to be regaining his energy. “I do not know. Unfortunately, I was forced to devote most of my attention to closing it.”

  “So you’re certain it wasn’t connected with the dimensional intersection rifts?”

  “Absolutely. Whatever that was, it was a completely different phenomenon.” He glanced up. “You had a better chance to observe it—was it similar to the one you encountered in Louisiana?”

  “I’d bet a lot of money on that, yes. Bigger, and manifested in a different way, but they both had the same feeling of being rips in reality—things that weren’t meant to be. You don’t happen to have a television here, do you?” He knew the question was futile, but he had to ask.

  Kolinsky gave him a look.

  “Okay, stupid question. But I’ve got a reason for it.”

  “Why?”

  “I want to see the news. Now that you’ve closed the hole, I want to see if whatever was causing all the problems there has vanished too. Based on my knowledge of magic, I’d say it probably has—do you concur?”

  “I do.”

  “I’d like to go back there and st
udy the area, but I doubt they’ll let us anywhere near it. Once the authorities get in, they’ll cordon the whole area off and have their own people crawling all over the place.”

  “No doubt they will. I do not believe there will be any leftover energy to study, though it might be illuminating to examine the aftermath.”

  Stone narrowed his eyes. “You mean all those people who went after each other.”

  “Yes, and the immediate vicinity.” Kolinsky appeared unruffled by Stone’s implication.

  “Yes, well, I doubt that will be possible, either—at least without a lot more magic than I’m willing or able to expend at present.” He finished his drink and stood, wincing at the twinges in his ribs. “In any case, I should be getting home, if you don’t need me for anything else. I do want to see the news. Thank you for getting us out of there…and for closing that thing. I’m not certain I could have done it, and I definitely couldn’t have done it alone.”

  Kolinsky regarded him steadily. “I am not certain I could have done it alone.”

  That was another frightening admission. The only other time Stone had seen Kolinsky at less than his best was following the ritual they’d performed here, which had gone wrong and severely injured the dragon. “Well—in any case, send me a message if you find out anything else. I’m hoping no more of those things pop up any time soon, since neither of us is any shape to have a go at them if they do.”

  Stone used the ley line to return home, reappearing in the living room. Raider, who was sleeping on the back of the sofa, glanced up with feline disinterest, noted his presence, and immediately went back to sleep.

  Stone didn’t bother him, settling on the other end of the sofa. He switched on the TV, turned to CNN, and leaned back to take care of his bruised ribs. This shouldn’t be too taxing, even for his minimal healing skills. He didn’t think Kolinsky had broken anything, which was good—if he had, Stone would probably have to call Verity, or Madame Huan.

  As he expected, the story was one of the top headlines. It had been less than half an hour since Kolinsky had closed the fissure, so the authorities were still reluctant to go in even though the strange, fog-like ground cover appeared to have dissipated. The camera panned over the area, showing a bunch of people milling around, vehicles with flashing lights, and a police cordon keeping everyone at a distance.

  “A few people have found their way out of the affected area,” the talking head on screen was saying. “Some of them claim to have seen a strange phenomenon in the center of McCarthy—something they describe as ‘a rip in the air’. Two of them claim to have snapped photos of the phenomenon before succumbing to some kind of mental fog, but the photos show nothing but a multi-car accident, several damaged buildings, and a few people. The witnesses swear they are telling the truth, and can’t explain why the images don’t show up on their shots. Now, let’s switch over to Natasha Curry for a press conference from a National Guard spokesman. Natasha?”

  Stone let his breath out—which he could do now without pain, since the healing had worked. That was a relief: if the fissure couldn’t be photographed, that would leave only a bunch of impaired witnesses trying to convince authorities that they’d seen what they thought they’d seen.

  It still meant a lot of dead people, though—including at least a couple he’d been personally responsible for.

  The National Guard man wasn’t saying anything interesting at the moment. He mentioned that they and some of the police were preparing to enter the zone, with proper precautions in place and a live video feed that would send data back to their command center. His best estimate was that, if the fog didn’t reappear, they’d get started in less than an hour.

  The view switched back to the original talking head, who was now interviewing bystanders. Stone watched without interest—what was the point of listening to a bunch of people blather about something they knew nothing about? He was about to get up and head upstairs when his mobile phone rang.

  He brought it to him with a flick of magic. The display showed a blocked number. “Yes, hello?”

  “Alastair?”

  He froze. “Hello, Daphne.”

  22

  “Alastair. Thank gods you’re there. I was starting to think you were ignoring my calls.”

  It was hard to miss the stress in her voice. “Daphne—we’ve got to talk.”

  She sighed. “Yes. I think we do.”

  “Where are you now?”

  “I…don’t want to tell you that yet.”

  He got up and began pacing. “Why not? Is it because of the very strange dead man I found out behind the cabin you were staying in?”

  The line crackled with silence.

  “Daphne?”

  “You found him.” She sounded weary.

  “Yes, I found him. Did you kill him?”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “No. I didn’t kill him.”

  “Then who did? How did you know he was out there?”

  Another long silence.

  “Come on, Daphne—I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s going on.”

  “Alastair—” She let out a loud breath. “Jeremy killed him.”

  “What?”

  “Look—it’s complicated.”

  “Bloody well right it’s complicated. That man wasn’t human, was he? By the time I found him, his body was already starting to dissipate. And not like a human decomposing, either.”

  “No. He wasn’t human.”

  “Then what was he? Can you tell me where you are so I can come to you and we can discuss this?”

  “No…I don’t think that’s a good idea right now. I’m sorry I got you involved in this at all. I thought we’d be all right, but—”

  “What are you talking about?” Stone realized he was pacing faster, and Raider was looking at him like he’d gone crazy. He stopped, staring out the front window into the darkening yard. “Daphne, you’ve got to tell me what’s going on here. What do you mean, you thought you’d be all right?” He stopped to calm his racing voice. “You still haven’t told me the whole story about what’s going on with you, have you?”

  Again, the line crackled for several seconds. “No,” she finally said.

  “Maybe this might be a good time to start, then, don’t you think?”

  “I—” Another sigh. “When we left the—other place—I think someone followed us. Someone who wanted to take us back there.”

  “And you didn’t bother to tell me this?” Stone was beginning to feel like he didn’t know this woman at all. Was she really Daphne? If so, how much had living on another dimension that long changed her?

  “I…didn’t know for sure. I thought we might have gotten away, since nobody showed up for a while.”

  “But that bloke…what…found your cabin and attacked you? I didn’t see any sign of struggle or damage in the cabin—”

  “No. He didn’t attack us. I wasn’t there when he showed up. I had to go out, to see if I could find something for Jeremy. He’s still sick, and I was getting desperate. When I returned, the man was on the floor in the cabin and Jeremy was sitting in a chair, watching his body.”

  Stone resumed his pacing. “Wait a moment. You’re telling me a little boy—one who’s ill—killed a full-grown man? Without leaving a mark on him?”

  “There…wouldn’t be a mark. You saw his body—saw what happened to it. He’s not human, Alastair. When he died, his body dissipated. The energy returned to his home dimension.”

  “That still doesn’t explain how Jeremy killed him.” He paused as a frightening idea struck him. “He’s not a mage, is he? Does magic manifest earlier…wherever you were?”

  “No. He’s not a mage. I don’t know how he killed him, and Jeremy…can’t tell me. All I know is when I got back, he was there.”

  “So you just…dragged him out into the weeds and left?”

  “What was I supposed to do?” Now she sounded defensive, and a little angry. “I couldn’t call the
police. How would they react to a woman with no ID, a child who’s not supposed to exist, and a body that was slowly disappearing? A body that isn’t supposed to exist, either? I’m not putting my son at risk. It’s too dangerous.”

  Stone took several deep breaths to center himself. “So…you took off. Headed for somewhere else.”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you think they’ve sent anyone else after you?”

  “I don’t know that.”

  “But why would anyone come after you? That’s what’s not clear here—well, that’s one of a lot of things that aren’t clear. Why would they send someone to track you down? You’re not criminals there or something, are you?”

  “No!” She sounded indignant. “Of course not. I told you—we lived there for a long time with no problems. But then…after Neil died…I started getting homesick. I decided I wanted Jeremy to see where his parents came from. I figured we’d come back here, hide out until we could come up with a way to explain ourselves without arousing suspicion, and then…make our home here.”

  “So you’ve got no idea why someone would object to that? You didn’t make any enemies while you were there?”

  “No! We…the people there were very peaceful. We got along with them fine. I mean…I didn’t tell anyone we were leaving. I thought it would be easier to just…disappear one day. It took me a long time to figure out all the calculations and how to set up the circle, and I didn’t want to try explaining interdimensional travel—or even other dimensions—to them. So we just left.”

  “How do you even know the man Jeremy killed is from your dimension, if neither of them are talking?”

  “I sensed the energy, when I scanned him. After living around it for so long, it wasn’t hard.”

  Stone rubbed the back of his neck. He didn’t want to deal with this right now, and he felt guilty about it. He was still exhausted from the Wisconsin situation. All he wanted to do was go upstairs, check the internet for more updates, and then go to bed. But he couldn’t leave Daphne hanging if she needed his help.