The Seventh Stone: A Novel in the Alastair Stone Chronicles

by R. L. King

  “Yeah. I could get to like this stuff.” He glanced at Verity. “You gonna tell me about it now that Al’s here?”

  “First things first,” Stone interrupted before she could reply. “Jason, tell me what happened to you. Don’t leave anything out.”

  “We called for pizza,” Verity said. “Neither of us wanted to go out, so it should be here any minute.”

  Stone regretted that they couldn’t get together to have lunch with Ian as he’d hoped, but he didn’t think it was a good idea to introduce more chaos into their midst until they’d been briefed on the latest developments. He made a mental note to call the boy later today. Maybe they could all do dinner instead, after things calmed down.

  They settled in the small living room; Jason switched off the TV, which had been playing a football game with the sound turned off. He ran a hand through his damp, newly-short hair, and sighed. “This is embarrassing. I feel like an idiot.”

  “Just tell us,” Stone said. “No one’s going to hold anything against you. I’m just glad we found you.”

  “Yeah,” Verity agreed. She still looked concerned and stressed.

  The pizza deliveryman chose that moment to arrive, so they paused to clear space on the coffee table and Verity retrieved drinks from the fridge. Only after they’d resumed their seats and claimed slices did Jason begin his story.

  “Okay,” he said, between mouthfuls. “So I did just like I said I was gonna do: I went to the New Life church service. They meet in another strip mall over on Senter. This one’s legit like I said before, and it’s bigger than the last one.

  “First thing I notice when I get there is that everybody’s kind of looking at me, like maybe they all know each other and they’re curious about who the new guy is. It’s not like they’re suspicious, just wondering. A couple of them greet me and welcome me to the church, and ask where I heard about them. I was using one of my cover IDs, so I made up a story about just moving to the area and looking for a church that’s ‘real’ and not touchy-feely like some of the big ones. They seem to buy it.”

  “Was there anything odd about the service?” Stone asked.

  “Not odd exactly. Just really old-fashioned. Not quite fire-and-brimstone, but definitely a lot heavier on judgment and sin than tolerance and harmony. A lot of the members were older people, and they really seemed to eat it up. Oh, and it was long, too. They had hymns and offerings and all that stuff, but the sermon was like an hour and a half all by itself. I had to really use some willpower not to fidget, since I was pretty bored and the seats were uncomfortable.”

  “What was the subject? Did they mention anything about witches?”

  “No. I was listening for that, but I didn’t hear anything. It was mostly about various people in the Bible who committed some sin, and how they were punished. How people should expect God’s wrath if they sin. That kind of thing.”

  Stone nodded, thinking. He’d studied various world religions as part of his magical training, but despite Aubrey’s hopes to the contrary, none of them had ever clicked for him at a personal level. “How did the congregation react to the message?”

  “Like I said, they really seemed to get behind it.”

  “Did you notice anything in particular about them? You mentioned many of them were older.”

  “Yeah, maybe half of them were fifty-plus. I’d say there were fifty or so people there. Everything from young twenties up to sixties or seventies. I didn’t see a lot of kids, though. The group was mostly white and Hispanic. I only saw one black guy, a couple of Asians, and one Indian lady.”

  “So how did you end up at that apartment building?” Verity asked. “Did you follow somebody there?”

  Jason blew air through his teeth, looking disgusted as he grabbed another pizza slice. “No. I went with them on purpose.”

  “Why?” Stone asked. “Did you hear something that made you suspicious?”

  “Yeah. After the service most of them got together to have refreshments and mingle. I got a glass of punch and a couple cookies and started circulating around, keeping my ears open to see if I heard anything that sounded odd. I really wished I could see auras—would have made things a lot easier. I chatted with a few people, gave them a line about how much the sermon had spoken to me and made the right noises about wanting to see sinners get punished and how the world was too full of decadence these days. It seemed like I was fitting right in. Most of the people seemed nice enough, I guess. A little judgmental, but mostly normal. I didn’t get any dangerous vibe from them, at least.

  “Anyway, after a while, I noticed three guys talking off to the side. They looked different from the rest of the group—more focused. I didn’t remember seeing them at the actual service, though I could be wrong. I caught ’em glancing at me a couple times when they didn’t think I was paying attention. They were standing near the refreshment table, so I finished my cookies and drifted over that way to get more. There were other people standing nearby too, so I didn’t think it would look suspicious for me to do it.

  “As I’m standing there like I’m deciding which kind of cookie I want, one of the guys wanders over and greets me. Normal-looking guy, maybe forty-five. Looked like somebody’s dad. We talk for a couple minutes. I mention that I really felt at home there, and give him a line about how most of the churches I’ve tried have gone too easy on people, making excuses for sin instead of treating it like it should be treated. That perked him up, so he took me over to talk to the other two.”

  “What did you talk about?” Stone asked. “Did they introduce themselves?”

  “Yeah, but I’ll bet my next year’s pay they gave me fake names.”

  “Probably. Go on.”

  “Mostly I just listened for a while, nodding and making the right noises at the right times. Then one of ’em said something about how he was disgusted at all the fortune tellers around the area—tarot readers, palmists, psychics, that kind of thing. Said they were an affront to God, and he wished the cops would round ’em up and run ’em out of town. One of the other ones looked disgusted and said they couldn’t because it wasn’t illegal to be a witch, and the third one said it was too bad somebody couldn’t do something about ’em.

  “I agreed. You should have seen me, V—I haven’t put on a performance like that since the time I tried to convince Mary Lou Chavez to go out with me in high school. I busted out all my psychology training and fed ’em what I thought they wanted to hear, about how those people were disgusting and wicked and God should punish them. We really seemed to connect with each other.”

  “So what did they do then?” Verity tossed her pizza crust back on her plate.

  “We all drifted off to talk to other people, but when I was getting ready to leave, one of the three approached me. Not the same one as the first time. He told me he felt like I’d be a good fit for a small men’s group they had, and asked me if I might be interested. I said sure and asked when they met, and he told me they were planning to get together for lunch and I was welcome to join them. That was when I was an idiot.” Once again, he looked disgusted with himself.

  “Why?” Stone asked. “Because you went along with them?”

  “No—because I didn’t figure out a way to get in touch with you and let you know I was going. One of the guys asked for a ride. He said he didn’t have a car, so he’d show me where to go. I couldn’t very well say no without looking suspicious, so I agreed, and I couldn’t call you with him in the car listening. I should have gone off to the can or something to make the call, but I figured I had it under control. We drove a couple miles, to this area with some apartment buildings, including that one under construction you found me in and some other occupied ones. He said he had to stop in to his place to pick up something, and asked me to wait for him. I figured I could give you a call while I waited for him to come back.”

  He let out another loud sigh. “Next thing I know, I’m in that room where you found me. I have no idea what happened, or how I got there. One mi
nute I was sitting in my car, and the next I wake up with a hood over my head and some guys are workin’ me over.”

  Verity shuddered. “Shit…”

  “Working you over?” Stone asked. “So they just…beat you up? They didn’t say anything? Ask you anything?”

  “They did. I tried to notice as much as I could, but it was hard with the hood, and never knowing exactly when they were gonna hit me again. All I’m pretty sure of is that they weren’t the same guys I talked to at the church.”

  “None of them?” Verity asked, surprised. “Not even the one who rode over with you?”

  “I don’t think so. The voices were different.”

  “So what did they say?” Stone prompted, leaning forward. He’d forgotten about eating now, his attention focused fully on Jason. “Try to remember everything—it could be important.”

  Jason rubbed his jaw. “I don’t remember a lot of it—it’s all pretty fuzzy at that point. But…they said something about knowing what I was up to. They wanted to know what witches I was working with, who put me up to trying to snoop on them.”

  “Did you tell them anything?”

  “No—at least I don’t think I did. I played dumb, said I didn’t know what the hell they were talking about.”

  “They could have killed you,” Verity said softly, her voice shaking.

  Jason shook his head. “I don’t think they wanted to. I pretended to pass out and heard them talking. One of them wanted to kill me, but the others said no, it would be murder since I wasn’t a witch.”

  Stone tensed. “You’re sure about that?”

  “Yeah. It surprised me too, because I was pretty sure I was dead. Wasn’t like I could fight back,” he added bitterly. “I walked right into their little trap with both eyes open.”

  “No, no, you might have gotten us some valuable information. Did any of them refer to each other by name? Can you remember what the ones you spoke with at the church looked like? And did any of them use any sort of magic?”

  “No names for the new guys. I was payin’ close attention to that. I can describe the guys I talked to at the church, but like I said, I’m sure the names they gave me were fake. And I didn’t notice any magic. That doesn’t mean there wasn’t any, though. They had to do something to knock me out in my car and get me up to that room, but who knows if that was magic or drugs or whatever.”

  Stone pondered. “So they didn’t kill you because you weren’t a witch. That meant they had a way to tell—and perhaps that they take their religious convictions even more seriously than I thought. ‘Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live,’ indeed.” He sighed. “I’m sorry, Jason. I should never have let you do that. If we hadn’t found you—”

  He raised a hand. “None of that, Al. I knew it could be dangerous when I volunteered, and like you said, we got some good info out of it. Maybe we can track down those guys I talked to, and lean on ’em until they give up the others.”

  “Assuming they don’t have the same magical oaths on them that Rivera did,” Stone muttered.

  Jason twisted in his chair to face Verity. “V…tell me about that stuff you gave me. You got it to work? Do you have more? How did you—?”

  “Jason, wait.” She didn’t meet his gaze, looking at her hands in her lap. “Listen. I wasn’t going to give you that yet. I wasn’t sure it was ready.”

  “I’m sure as hell glad you had it. I’d have been laid up for weeks otherwise—or at least for a while, if you could have healed some of it.”

  “Yeah…” She still didn’t look up.

  He raised his hand again and made a fist. “This is…different, though. The regeneration worked like before, and I felt stronger and faster, but not as much as I did with the other stuff. Did I hear you say you used Viajera’s blood? Where did you get that?”

  “She gave me some. Just a bottleful, to experiment with. Hezzie and I were doing that this week, with Viajera’s blood and yours. I wasn’t sure we’d gotten it right.”

  “I guess you did. V, that’s—amazing. How much did you make? Do you have more?”

  Stone winced at the eagerness in his tone, but remained silent, leaving it to Verity to reply as she saw fit. This was between her and her brother.

  “Jason…” She glanced at Stone as if hoping to find an answer from him, but then looked away. “I’ve got one more. That’s it. We used up all the blood she gave us, and Doc said she told him that was all we’re getting.”

  “Just…one?” He looked disappointed, but hid it quickly. “Okay. Okay. I guess I can’t bitch too much, since you fixed me up. I was just hoping you might be able to—”

  “I know. We’ll keep working on it. Maybe there’s another way we haven’t found yet. But for now, we’ve just got one more. I don’t know if it’ll have a stronger effect if it doesn’t have to focus all its energy on healing you, but I’d think long and hard about using it except in an emergency.”

  “Yeah…” Jason muttered. “Thanks, V.”

  “Let’s get back to our problem,” Stone said, before the discussion got away from them. “Give me descriptions of these men at the church, and I’ll see if I can find out anything else.”

  “Yeah,” Jason said again. “I wish I’d been able to get more for you, but—” He stopped, going tense.

  “What?” Stone asked.

  He leaped out of his chair. “Hang on a sec! I might have just remembered something.” Before either Stone or Verity could reply, he dashed off down the hall toward his bedroom.

  The two exchanged glances, and Verity shrugged as if to say I have no idea what he’s talking about.

  He returned a moment later, looking half-triumphant, half-troubled. He held something in his hand.

  Stone’s attention sharpened: it looked like a bloody, folded scrap of paper. “What’s that?”

  “It was in the back pocket of the pants I was wearing. That’s what I just remembered—one of those guys sticking it in there, right before they left. I forgot about it when I passed out.”

  “Did you look at it?”

  “Yeah. It’s in Latin, though, so I can’t read it. And it’s got a symbol on top. Looks like the one you described.” He offered it to Stone.

  Stone carefully unfolded it. Like the previous ones, it was printed with a laser printer, and included a copy of the same hand-drawn symbol at the top. The bloodstains made bits of it difficult to read. He switched on a lamp on the table next to the couch and squinted at the printing.

  “What’s it say?” Verity asked.

  Stone leaned back. This was getting worse. “It’s a note for me.”

  “For you?”

  “Not me specifically—it doesn’t have my name on it or anything. But they know you’re working with a ‘witch,’ and this is addressed to that person.”

  “What’s it say, though?” Verity asked again.

  “It’s a warning.” Stone scanned it again. “Essentially, it says ‘To whoever the witch is who sent this man after us, beware. We won’t stop in our efforts to eliminate you abominations from the Earth, and if you try to find us, more will suffer.’” He tossed it on the table. “It’s signed by Portas Justitiæ.”

  “That’s pretty bold of them,” Jason said. He didn’t look fearful. “We know where they are now. We should go after them.”

  “We don’t, though. Not really.” Stone got up and began pacing. “We know at least some of them are connected with the New Life Church, yes. I could go over there and confront them, but I don’t think that will help in the long run.”

  “Why not?” Verity asked. “Even if they’ve got a mage, you can take him, right?”

  “Probably. I’m not worried about that—they operate from the shadows, which means they probably don’t want direct conflict. I’m sure they have at least one mage—still can’t work out why, but I’m sure they do. But I’d also bet a lot that whoever it is, they don’t show themselves directly. No, I think the advantage we’ve got now is that they don’t know who you’re working
with, Jason. I doubt that will remain true for long, though, so both of you need to stay on your guard. In the meantime, I need to make a few contacts and do a bit more research.”

  “Is that safe?” Verity asked. “What if they kill somebody else?”

  “It’s a chance we’ll have to take. We can’t go into this blind. I do plan to give Captain Flores at the San Jose Police Department a call, though.”

  “What can he do?” Jason collected the pizza box and empty bottles from the table and carried them to the kitchen.

  “Not a lot, but I promised to keep him in the loop as much as possible. Since Portas seems to go after low-powered mages and their apprentices—at least so far—I can ask him to put out a bulletin warning anyone involved in the occult industry to be careful. Your attackers mentioned fortune tellers, psychics, that sort of thing. Trust me: the genuine magical community will recognize that kind of warning.”

  “I guess.” Jason sounded disappointed. “I feel like we should be doing something more active, though.”

  “We will. I’ll also tell Flores to take a closer look at New Life. If nothing else, it might disrupt their organization for a while until they find a new base, or encourage them to lie low for a while until the heat’s off. If you’re right and they won’t kill mundanes, the police should be safe. As for us—let me have a bit of time so we’re armed with better information and we’ll decide our next step.”

  He looked Jason over, satisfying himself that his friend was fully healed from his ordeal before speaking again. “But—now, I wanted to talk to you about something else. I’d intended to bring it up at lunch, but we sort of got—sidetracked.”

  “What is it?” Verity asked.

  “Give me just a moment—I need to make a call first. Jason, may I borrow your spare bedroom?”

  “Uh—yeah, of course.” They were both looking at him with undisguised curiosity now.

  He returned a few minutes later to find them both sitting on the sofa, watching the football game, but their auras indicated tense anticipation.