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

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Rite of Passage: An Alastair Stone Urban Fantasy Novel (Alastair Stone Chronicles Book 26) Page 22

by R. L. King


  “I cannot answer that.” Kolinsky rose from his desk. “But it does not matter. It is what it is, and it cannot be allowed to continue. I must alert the others. This boy must be found and destroyed before he can cause irreparable damage.”

  Stone whirled. “Wait. The others? You mean you’re going to bring the other dragons in on this?”

  “It would not be my first choice. But we do not know how many more of these fissures exist—or the specific reason why they are being created where they are. The longer we wait, the greater the chance more will appear.”

  Stone’s world was spiraling out of control. “Stefan—I can’t just let you kill him. He could be innocent. You said it yourself—he probably doesn’t know a damned thing about what he’s doing, and Daphne doesn’t either. She’d be gutted if she knew they were causing that kind of trouble, especially after what happened with the Evil.”

  He snatched at a desperate straw. “Listen—let me find her. Let me track her down and talk to her. Maybe Jeremy isn’t responsible for this. Maybe it’s the people who are after them. Once I find out, then we can go from there.”

  “It is not—”

  “I know it’s not.” He knew he sounded desperate now. “I know that. But shouldn’t we know the truth before you unleash the Dragon Apocalypse on some poor kid who doesn’t even know what’s going on? Even if he’s doing it, I don’t think he’s doing it on purpose. He seemed like a good kid, and Daphne would never allow it if she knew about it. Maybe he’s—I don’t know—doing it when he’s upset. She said he hasn’t been feeling well. If we can calm him down, study him—figure out what’s wrong with him and fix it—we might have more options available to us.”

  Kolinsky didn’t look convinced.

  “Come on, Stefan. I’m asking you for a few hours. Just long enough for me to find her, get to her, and try to work out what’s happening. If I can’t do that, or if it does turn out there’s something malevolent about the kid, then…” He let out a loud, reluctant sigh. “I’ll stand aside and let you do what you need to do. But at least give me the chance. You did say you didn’t want to bring the other dragons in unless it’s absolutely necessary.” He fixed a pleading gaze on the dragon.

  Kolinsky still appeared implacable. He sighed. “You said you could not find her.”

  “Yes, well, I think I might be able to. I know roughly where she was when we talked, and I’ve got something of hers that’s got enough of a connection even after all these years that I’m sure I can use it as a tether object. Will you give me the chance?”

  The dragon looked away, clearly considering.

  Stone remained silent, except he was sure Kolinsky could hear his heart thumping.

  Finally, Kolinsky turned back. “I will give you eight hours, or until I detect another anomaly, whichever comes first.” He narrowed his eyes. “You understand, do you not, that if another fissure should appear, according to the progression we suspect, it will be larger and more dangerous than the previous one. I am still drained from dealing with that one, so I will not be at my best if forced to deal with another. If that occurs, the situation will be out of my hands. Others will have to be involved.”

  “I get it,” Stone said wearily. “I do. I don’t like it, but I understand. Let me go, now—if I’ve only got eight hours, I’d best not waste any of them.”

  For nowhere near the first time, Stone was grateful Kolinsky and the other dragons had agreed to allow him to learn the ley-line teleportation technique. What he did next would have been impossible without it.

  First, he went home to his Surrey house, where he retrieved one of Daphne’s old notebooks from his hidden library. He hated to lose it, but he’d already made copies of all of them, and he had no other choice.

  Next, he called Verity. “I know it’s late, and I’m sorry to bother you, but I need your help.”

  “Sure,” she said instantly. “Name it.”

  As always, he was grateful for her loyalty. “I’ve got to find Daphne. Stefan and I suspect something very bad is going on involving her son, and I’ve got to head her off and talk to her before he catches up with her.”

  “What? Doc, slow down. Tell me what’s going on. Does this have something to do with that weird shit going on in Wisconsin?”

  “Very much so. No time to give you the details—I’ve got to leave now. If you’re still willing to help, get yourself to the portal, go to Chicago, and take the first available flight to Minneapolis.” He glanced at the map on his laptop screen. “Or better yet, Rochester, if you can manage it. I think they’ve got an airport. Spend whatever you have to, up to and including chartering a private plane—I’ll pay you back and then some. Time is very much of the essence.”

  “But—why? Where will you be?”

  “Not sure yet. Somewhere in southeastern Minnesota. That’s Daphne’s last known location, and I need to do a tracking ritual to find her.”

  “Wait—you think she caused the thing in Wisconsin?”

  “I think her son might have. Please, Verity—I can’t talk now. I’ve got to go and get this ritual started before she gets away from me again.”

  “Okay. Okay, I’ll go. But why do you need me along? I’m happy to be part of this if I can help, but you and Kolinsky have been dealing with it on your own so far. Why the sudden change?”

  “Because you’re far better at subtle mind magic than I am. If we find Daphne’s son, you might have a better chance to communicate with him. It might be the only way we can keep him alive. If he really is causing these anomalies, I don’t think he’s doing it on purpose. But if we can’t stop him, Stefan’s going to call in the big guns and they plan to destroy him.”

  “Destroy him? You mean, kill a little boy?”

  “It might end up being necessary,” Stone said grimly. “But I’m hoping not. Please, get going as fast as you can.”

  “Okay. I’ll call you when I get there. Good luck, Doc.”

  Stone examined his ley-line map and, extrapolating from McCarthy, Wisconsin, chose the likeliest spot based on the location of a nearby ley line, Daphne’s reported location, and the road she probably took to get there. He was glad the states in the Midwest were smaller than California—it meant if she hadn’t moved too far since they’d spoken, she was likely still within range of his tracking spell.

  He threw ritual materials into his bag and, at the last moment, stuck his regular mobile phone in his pocket. This time, he’d have to take the chance on somebody noticing him, since it was the only way for Daphne to contact him.

  “All right, mate,” he told Raider, pausing to pet the cat. “Hopefully I’ll be back soon. If not, you’ve got enough food and water to last you for several days. Your commode might get a bit offensive, but we all have our crosses to bear.”

  It didn’t occur to him until he appeared in a vacant lot in the small, southeast-Minnesota town he’d chosen as his destination, that if Jeremy truly was causing the anomalies, he might have unwittingly interfered with the ley line in the area. He supposed it was a good thing he hadn’t thought of that until after he landed safely.

  He didn’t have a lot of time, so he’d have to be less cautious than he usually was. He glanced around but saw no sign of anyone out and about, aside from a few cars driving past. That didn’t surprise him, given how late it was here. Most people were probably either asleep or, given their proximity to the Wisconsin anomaly, glued to their computers and televisions watching the progress of the investigation. Stone was tempted to check on that himself, but didn’t want to risk using his phone for anything that wasn’t strictly necessary.

  It didn’t take him long to find a place to conduct the ritual. He once again chose a church, for several reasons: first, it was unlikely anyone would blunder in on him this time of night; second, churches usually had large multi-purpose rooms for group activities; and third, a small-town church was unlikely to have sophisticated security and surveillance.

  The one he found, on a side street not far from
where he’d landed, had a perfect room for him to use. He didn’t even have to clear the floor, since the tables and chairs were all neatly folded and pushed against the walls. After setting a quick ward on the door to warn him of potential intruders, he began casting the circle.

  He’d done these tracking rituals dozens of times, so his mind wandered a bit while he created the circle’s more generic parts. Mostly, he split his focus between drawing the necessary sigils and symbols, and wondering what could possibly be going on with Jeremy that he could cause rips in reality like this, consciously or otherwise. The whole thing didn’t make sense. Even a powerful mage would have trouble doing something like that. Trevor Harrison, for example—the man obviously had a strong affinity for Calanar, and might even have been born there, but he didn’t cause openings to appear between dimensions wherever he went. In fact, Stone had never even heard of such a thing happening until now.

  He wondered if Daphne had any knowledge of this—if she’d lied to him again, or at least withheld the full truth. As much as he hated to acknowledge it, she had obviously not been completely honest with him since she’d arrived. Every time she called him, she’d revealed more of an increasingly incredible story. What new bombshell had she intended to drop on him the last time they’d talked, when something (or someone) had caused the call to fail? He pulled out his phone and checked it for voicemails, but there were none.

  He hoped Verity could get here in time to be of some use. Whatever was going on with Jeremy, there was obviously something wrong with him. Aside from not talking, which wasn’t that odd, Daphne had said he “wasn’t feeling well,” attributing it to his system’s unfamiliarity with Earth food. But what if it was something else? If the boy had truly killed the man who’d come after them, or at least neutralized him if “death” wasn’t a concept that applied in this case, that suggested he had some kind of underlying powers. Did Daphne know about them? She’d said Jeremy wasn’t a mage, but had she been lying? Had she even known? Stone’s thoughts returned to Trevor Harrison: the man was probably the most powerful mage he knew, and that might even include Kolinsky and the other dragons. But Harrison was half-Calanarian, and Jeremy (once again, if Daphne could be believed) was fully human. Did that make a difference? Could being born on another dimension to two human parents still result in some kind of unexpected abilities? Stone had no idea.

  Perhaps Verity, with her stronger touch with healing and mental magic, could reach Jeremy, if it was possible to reach him at all. If she could get into his head and communicate with him, perhaps they could determine how and why the boy was causing problems. He’d seemed a pleasant enough kid—perhaps his “illness” was distress at what he was doing and his inability to explain to anyone what was going on.

  It was a bit of wishful thinking, but right now he didn’t have a lot more to go on. He didn’t plan to let Kolinsky and the other dragons kill Jeremy without at least taking a shot at cracking this puzzle.

  A sober thought occurred to him as he finished the main part of the circle and walked to his bag to gather the components. He didn’t plan to let Kolinsky kill Jeremy—but if the dragon was determined to do it, he’d probably have to kill Daphne too. Stone thought back to his discussion with Jason, about his and Amber’s upcoming child and the sudden, fierce protectiveness his friend already felt toward it even though it was barely more than a few cells at this point. He thought about how strongly he himself would fight—up to and including standing up to Kolinsky—to protect Ian should it become necessary.

  Daphne would do the same thing; he didn’t doubt it for second. But she was a researcher, not a fighter, and her magic wasn’t nearly as strong as her intellect. She wouldn’t have a chance in that fight.

  Stone let his breath out. No, he would simply have to find her before Kolinsky did, and convince her to let Verity examine Jeremy. If nothing else, maybe they could work out a way to keep the boy sedated to buy them more time.

  He finished placing the candles and crystals around the circle’s outer perimeter, and the brazier in the middle, along with the bowl that would hold the tether object. He held the notebook gently, paging through it. Memories flooded back from his, Verity’s, and Jason’s desperate trip through West Virginia so many years ago. He’d studied this notebook and its counterparts so many times he’d practically committed them to memory at the time, and some part of him felt reluctant to destroy one of them, even for such a good cause. He did have copies, which would be equally useful should he ever decide to revisit his pursuit of Daphne’s research, since there was no inherent magical power to the writings. But the mere fact that she had written them with her own hand made them worth more than copies.

  He smiled fondly as he pictured her seated at her desk, squeezing the bridge of her nose as she’d often done when dealing with a tough problem, scribbling notes and equations at a furious pace. The two of them hadn’t been seeing each other that long, but he still treasured their time together. They would have made a good couple. He’d let that go a long time ago—he’d never been the type to try to maintain a relationship when it had run its course—but that didn’t mean he didn’t still have a few scattered twinges of regret.

  He tightened his hand on the notebook. It would have to be done—he didn’t have a choice if he wanted to find her fast. Normally, he could have built a component into the ritual to make it more likely the tether wasn’t consumed, but that wasn’t the only thing he’d need to do this time. He had to add more power to his search to punch through her defenses if she was trying to hide from him, and he planned to incorporate magic to give him a chance to track her if she moved. Adding both of those would be hard enough, without tossing in another for no other reason than sentimentality. If you pull this off, you can ask her to write you up a replacement, he told himself, only half joking.

  For now, though, he needed to get started. He glanced at his watch. An hour and a half of his eight allotted hours had already passed. Verity should have made it to the portal by now, and be on her way to the Chicago airport, but it would still realistically be three hours minimum before she arrived—if she could get a flight at all. Best to assume he was on his own for the time being.

  Stone levitated into the center of the circle, sitting with the bowl and brazier in front of him. It took him longer than usual to achieve his meditative state, and he didn’t try to rush it. He’d only get one chance at this, so best to take his time. His only advantage was that Daphne didn’t know he could travel as fast as he could, so she was unlikely to expect him to be this close. That means she probably wouldn’t be expending any energy to block tracking rituals. For once, his target’s magical knowledge might help him rather than hinder him.

  Forcing himself to stop thinking about what accidental mayhem Jeremy might be up to while he was wasting time, he began the ritual. Carefully, he wove the strands of the spell, adding in the extra punch and the component that would allow him to track Daphne if she moved.

  Energy swirled around the brazier, creeping up to engulf the notebook. For what seemed an agonizingly long time, the energy merely collected, moving sluggishly without apparent aim. Stone poured more power into the working, refusing to entertain thoughts about what he’d do if the ritual didn’t work.

  Come on…you can do it…

  Seconds passed. Almost a full minute. Then, with a suddenness that startled Stone, the tiny, familiar tendril formed, swirled around, and then shot up thorough the room’s high ceiling. The notebook burst into eldritch flame and disappeared with a loud whump, leaving behind only scattered ashes and the section of the front cover that included the handwritten title and Daphne’s name.

  Stone grinned, leaping up. “Yes,” he murmured. “Good job, me.” He snatched up the little section of cover and stared at it. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, as he continued to watch, the text morphed and rearranged itself to form an angled pointer. Its business end faced vaguely to the northwest.

  “Oh, that’s brilliant.” It was one of
the things that amused him about magic: the augmented tracking spell never manifested its directionality in the same way, but rather took a cue from the tether object used. Once, when he’d been hunting for someone with information about Verity’s location, he’d used one of the man’s athletic shoes. All that remained following the ritual was a single shoelace, which had twisted around to point the way.

  But now he had a direction, and an approximate distance: twenty-five miles or so. That was more than he’d had to start with. He hoped Daphne and her son would stay put long enough for him to reach them.

  He wanted to leave immediately, but he took the time to clean up the ritual scene, gathering the spent components and stuffing them in his bag, and using his whirlwind spell to take care of the chalk marks and sand. The church people might find traces of his presence if they looked hard, but they’d never identify what he’d been doing here or associate it with him.

  When he finished, he grabbed the bag and glanced at the notebook remnant. It was still pointing in the same general direction, and would continue to indicate the way—at least for the next hour or two until the magic faded—for as long as Stone devoted a tiny measure of power to keeping it active. He needed to hurry, but as long as she didn’t move or actively try to hide from him, he had time.

  He waited until he was outside and two blocks away from the church before he stopped to text Verity. Where are you?

  Her answer came back quickly: Just reached SV. About to head through.

  He quelled his frustration. If she was only now heading to Chicago, that meant she’d still need to get from the portal to the airport, find a flight, and wait for it to leave. That was assuming she could find a flight at all, this late. It would be hours before she’d be here. Would it be worth it for her to go through all that trouble to get here if she arrived too late to be of any help?

  All right. Come as fast as you can. It was all he could tell her.

 

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