The Seventh Stone: A Novel in the Alastair Stone Chronicles

by R. L. King

  Ian’s eyes widened in astonished disbelief. “Something else? What else? What the hell are you talking about? I’ve been with her for two years, and I told you, I’ve never seen anything like that.”

  “Yes, well, you wouldn’t, would you?” Stone said softly. “It wouldn’t be something she’d let you see. I keep telling you, Ian—Trin is like a bloody rotten onion. She’s got plans built on top of plans, and she never lets anyone see the whole picture.”

  “So what is the whole picture, then? What’s this thing you’re claiming she’s connected to?”

  “We don’t know yet. But if I can believe what she said last night, she’s promised you to it.”

  “What? Dad, that’s crazy. She hasn’t promised me to anything! And anyway, when did you even talk to her?”

  “Verity got her location out of you when you were unconscious—when she was blocking the oath. I went over there to settle this with her.”

  “Wait.” Ian began to pace again. “You went to her? You confronted her? But you said she’s still alive.”

  “Yes. That’s what reinforces my belief that she’s allied herself with something powerful. She couldn’t have stood up to me otherwise.”

  Ian snorted. “How do you know that? She’s strong. Maybe she’s stronger than you.”

  “She’s not.” Stone spoke with certainty. “Trust me on this, Ian—if all she had to work with was her own power, she didn’t have a chance against me. But yet she fought me to a standstill last night.”

  “Even if that’s true, it doesn’t mean she’s promised me to anything. How could she even do that? Maybe I missed the oath, but no way would I have missed selling my soul to some…demon or something.”

  “I’m not so sure that’s true. You had no experience with magic. You probably thought it was all part of the ritual.” Stone sighed. He had nothing more to go on than Trin’s words—and Trin lied as a recreational activity. Could she have said what she did to spook him, to make him doubt himself, or send him off on a wild-goose chase looking for something that wasn’t there? Even if her moving tattoos did indicate some kind of pact—and he was sure they did, because she had to be getting that extra power from somewhere—it didn’t mean she’d bound Ian to it as well.

  “Look,” he said at last, reluctantly. “You could be right. I won’t say you aren’t. But let’s not be foolish about this. Do you want to take chances? If there is some kind of bond we haven’t found yet, if you come along with us to confront Trin, it’s possible she could invoke it. If something more powerful is pulling her strings, we can’t be sure it might not pull yours, too. You might be strong—I believe you are, since you’re my son—but that makes it all the more dangerous. I don’t fancy having you involuntarily switch sides in the middle of a fight we’re already struggling to win.”

  “He’s right, Ian,” Verity said gently. “I know you want to come along. You deserve to, the way she’s messed you up these last two years. But it’s too much of a risk for all of us.”

  Ian glared at the floor. He clenched his fists and said nothing.

  Stone crossed to him and gripped his arms. “Ian, listen to me. You said you felt guilty about what you’ve done. I’m telling you that you don’t have to—I don’t hold any of this against you—but I get that you do. Do you want to compound that guilt by taking this chance and having something go wrong? If something is going on, your presence could get us all killed. Including you. Please—if you know where she is, tell us and let us take care of this. I know it’s not the ideal solution, but it’s the best one we’ve got.”

  Ian continued glaring at the floor, posture tense and aura alight with agitation. “Fine,” he muttered at last, and the word sounded as if it had been dragged from him. “I know where she’s staying while she’s up here. I can tell you that.” He gave an address in Mountain View, which Verity jotted down, then brought his glare up and fixed it on Stone. “But I still think you’re wrong.”

  “I might be. But let’s not find out.” Stone regarded his son for a moment. The boy looked so much like him—including the stubborn set to his jaw and the way his eyes flashed with anger. All he wanted to do right now was pack Ian away somewhere behind the most powerful wards he could find until Trin was safely dealt with and couldn’t harm him anymore. If he’d thought he could get away with it, he’d take Ian to England, to the Surrey house, but that would take too long. He might already have missed his window for tracking Trin down before she started the next stage of her plan. Best to keep her off balance as much as possible.

  “Right, then,” he said, hiding any hesitation in his voice with briskness. “We’d best be off, then. No point in waiting. Perhaps we’ll find her asleep, and this will be easy. Ian, please stay inside the house until you hear from us. The wards are strong—I doubt she could break them. And if she does—well, you said you’ve got power I haven’t seen. Use it, and don’t hold back.”

  “Don’t worry, Dad.” Ian’s expression was as hard as his. “If she comes here, she’s not leaving.”

  63

  They took Verity’s SUV, on the off chance that Trin might be watching for them and recognize the BMW. The Saturday-morning traffic was light, and the drive took less than half an hour.

  “Do you really think we’re gonna find her there?” Jason asked. He’d been silent through most of the morning’s conversation. “Maybe she’ll just write the whole thing off as a bad job and skip town back to L.A.”

  “I don’t think so,” Stone said. “She’s been planning this for at least two years, it sounds like. She won’t give up so easily. And remember—if Verity successfully blocked the oath, she might not even know we’re aware of it. She might be waiting to hear from Ian. That’s why we need to take her down fast, before she gets suspicious.”

  “It’s not like she could have stayed in Big Sur,” Verity said. “You guys trashed that place—she won’t want to stick around, in case somebody heard something and called the cops.”

  Stone didn’t answer. He didn’t like any of this, and the constant low-grade fear that someone—or something—had been lying in wait until they got away from Ian refused to leave him alone. He wanted to do this as fast as possible and get back to Encantada. The wards were strong and could probably withstand Trin’s attack, but the unknown other factor troubled him.

  The address Ian had given them proved to be an apartment building off San Antonio Avenue. Trin’s place was a loft on the third floor; the first floor was devoted to shops, all of which were currently closed. They parked the SUV on the street, out of the apartment’s line of sight. “Keep your disregarding spell up,” Stone told Verity.

  Jason checked his jacket, where he’d stowed his pistol in a shoulder holster, and the bottle of shifter elixir. He’d asked Verity for it on the way over, and she’d handed it over with reluctance.

  “Don’t use it unless you have to,” she’d warned. “I’m not kidding—that’s the last one I can get you for I don’t know how long.”

  Stone had no trouble using magic to open the lock to get them inside the building. The elevator required a keycard, so they unlocked the stairway door and took that up, and in only a couple of minutes they reached the third floor. Only two doors lined the hall; Trin’s apartment was at the far end.

  “What now?” Verity murmured, keeping watch. “Do we just bust in?”

  Stone, too, was studying the hallway. “I don’t see any sign of wards or magical traps. Let’s see if we can pop the lock and get in. Once the door’s open, move in fast and spread out. If she’s expecting us, let’s not give her a ready-made target.”

  He knew from the instant they broke the lock and stepped inside, though, that she was gone. They dashed through the door, Stone moving left and Verity and Jason right, each protected by magical shields. Stone swept his gaze over the large, open space, taking in the sitting area, the floor-to-ceiling window looking out over the street, the kitchen. Nothing moved, in either magical or mundane sight.

  “Bu
gger. I think she’s done a runner already—or else she never came back at all. Verity and Jason, check the bath.” He pointed at the spiraling metal staircase leading up to the loft bedroom. “I’ll look up there. Be careful.”

  When they reconvened in the living room less than five minutes later, it was clear none of them had found anything. “I don’t even see any signs that anyone’s been here,” Jason said. “She didn’t leave any of her stuff in the bathroom, towels on the floor, anything.”

  “Do you think Ian was lying to us?” Verity asked, looking around.

  “No. She was here. The bed wasn’t made. Somebody was living here, at least. I detected faint traces of magic, but it’s at least a day old. Whoever was here hasn’t been back since then.”

  “Do you think she’s coming back?” Verity asked. “If you hurt her, maybe she had to deal with her injuries somewhere closer to Big Sur before she drove back up here.”

  “Hard to say. On the one hand, the lack of personal items troubles me. But on the other—perhaps she never intended to return here, so she packed them up before she left. Since her plans have changed, it’s possible she might return to her base.”

  “So should we hang out here and wait for her for a while?” Jason didn’t look thrilled about the idea.

  “I’m surprised she didn’t set a trap for us. That encourages me that she doesn’t think we could get through the oath—or even realize it exists. Perhaps we could set one for her.”

  “How?” Verity asked. “You said she was a lot tougher than you remember—do you think you can take her out with something you can put together in a short time without any of your magic gear?”

  Stone pondered. “No,” he said at last. “I don’t think taking her out remotely will be possible without a lot more preparation. I was thinking more along the lines of some sort of tracking.”

  “You mean like a magical bug?” Jason asked.

  “Exactly. I could set something up that would attach itself to her when she came in, and hopefully conceal itself long enough for us to find her before she discovers it.”

  “How long will that take, though?” Verity glanced at her watch. “We don’t want to leave Ian alone too long, right?”

  Stone pulled out his phone and called Ian. It rang three times, and then, “Hello?”

  “It’s me. Is everything all right?”

  “Yeah. Why wouldn’t it be? Did you find anything?”

  “Working on it. You’re sure nothing’s tried to get in? No odd cars at the gate, knocks on the door, anything?”

  “Nothing. I’ve just been hanging out in the living room, watching TV with Raider—or trying to, at least, since I can’t concentrate. I hate this. I want to help you, and I don’t like being stuck here like a prisoner.”

  “It won’t be for much longer. We should be home in another hour or two. Can you hold out that long?”

  “Yeah, sure.” He sounded reluctant and frustrated. “Be careful, Dad. I’m telling you—she can be dangerous.”

  “So can I. Don’t you worry—we’ll get this sorted, and you won’t have to concern yourself with it anymore. I’ll talk to you soon.”

  “So what are you going to do?” Verity asked after he’d put the phone away.

  “Can’t do much without my gear, and I don’t want to go back home to get it right now. I’m thinking a simple enchantment on the doorknob should do it. I can’t guarantee she’ll touch anything else, but unless she’s using magic to open the door, she can’t bypass that.”

  “And you can do that so she won’t notice?” Jason asked.

  “Who knows? But even if she does notice, it will take her a bit of time to break it. And we’ll know she’s come back here, at least, so it will be a start.”

  Stone worked fast, crouching in the hall outside the apartment while Verity maintained an illusion spell to make the area look deserted if anyone else showed up, and Jason paced with impatience and kept watch. Less than fifteen minutes later, Stone stood and swiped his hand through his hair. “There. It’s not my best work, but it will do. I don’t want to be away much longer. Let’s get back home. She might be long gone by now, but I don’t want to take any chances.”

  It took them longer to get back to Encantada than it had for their trip to Mountain View, since more traffic was out by then and they had to take a small detour around an accident in an intersection. By the time they reached the closed gates, it was nearly noon. Stone used magic to open them, and checked the wards as Verity drove inside. With relief, he saw nobody had tried to breach them. Perhaps the universe was giving them a break, for once.

  That feeling lasted until they got inside. Raider greeted them immediately, winding first around Stone’s legs, then Verity’s. Stone bent down to pet him. “Hello, Raider. Where’s your brother?”

  Verity giggled. “You’re turning into a crazy cat dude, Doc.”

  Stone was surprised Ian hadn’t pounced on them as soon as they’d entered, as impatient as he’d sounded before. “Ian?” he called, hurrying down to look in the living room.

  The television set was off, and no familiar form lounged on the sofa. Tension crawled up his back and settled at the base of his neck. Stop it, he told himself. He’s probably upstairs lying down, or in the loo or something.

  “Where is he?” Verity asked. Then, louder, “Ian?”

  Stone swept past her and ran upstairs, taking the stairs two at a time. Ian’s door was closed, and he forced himself to knock normally. “Ian? Are you in there?”

  No answer.

  The tension turned to a cold knot in the pit of his stomach. He hesitated for only a second—he could apologize for disrespecting his son’s privacy if he found him—and then flung the door open.

  Nothing. The bed was neatly made, the door leading to the bathroom open.

  Footsteps sounded behind him, and Verity was in the hall. “He’s not there?”

  “No. I can’t find him.”

  “He’s not in the bathroom downstairs either, or the kitchen.”

  “Bloody hell. Where is he? Come on—let’s check the rest of the house.”

  Raider must have thought they’d gone insane, as all three of them tore around all three floors, throwing open doors and poking their heads into rooms. Stone even checked his attic magical sanctum and basement library, neither of which he’d even told Ian about and both of which were protected by mundane locks and additional wards, but found no sign of his son in any of them.

  He and Verity regrouped in the living room ten minutes later, both of them puffing and stressed. “Anything?” she demanded.

  “Not a damn thing. I don’t think he’s here.”

  “But how did he—”

  Jason, who’d disappeared, came back in through the front door, looking grim.

  Stone’s whole body went cold, visions of his son’s broken and lifeless body out in the wild backyard somewhere threatening to overwhelm him. “Did you find him?”

  “No. But your car’s gone. And I found this on the garage door.” He held up a folded note.

  64

  Ian’s anger and frustration continued to grow the longer he sat on the sofa and tried to follow the inane television show he’d chosen at random.

  This was ridiculous. In his rational mind, he understood why his father had asked him to remain behind when they went after Trin. Of course he had—fathers were like that. Proper fathers were, anyway: they cared about what happened to their children, and wanted to keep them out of harm’s way. Blake—Trin, he reminded himself—was tough, he knew that. Tougher than his father had expected, from the sound of it. And besides, his father didn’t know the extent of Ian’s real power. He could help—he was certain.

  His anger wasn’t just at his father, though. At least Dad had honorable motives for his decisions. Blake, on the other hand, had put a magical oath on him, all the way back when he’d first agreed to learn magic from her? She’d actually tricked him into entering a binding contract that normally couldn’t be brok
en, and had been manipulating him with it all this time. Two years, she’d been manipulating him.

  She’d lied to him about his father—that much he was sure of now. How much else had she lied to him about? He thought of all the times he’d doubted Trin’s motivations, suspected she’d had something else planned beyond what she’d shared with him, and how many times something in his mind had diverted him from those thoughts. Had that been the oath, subtly steering him in the direction Trin wanted him to go? The thought filled him with rage.

  Raider eyed him warily as he tensed and clenched his fists, then climbed on his chest and head-butted his chin. Ian sat up, gently shoving him off, and glared at the television. How dare that woman do something like that to him? If he hadn’t resisted her pull enough to give his father the chance to retaliate, Stone could be dead now. His father could be dead at Trin’s hand, but it would have been Ian’s fault.

  And what of him? What would Trin have done with him once she’d finally achieved her longtime goal of killing her old enemy? Would she have let him go back to his life? Or would she have used the oath to convince him to stay with her, unable to resist the lure of pulling his strings like he was some kind of henchman?

  Would she have simply killed him without regret or second thought, just another in the series of nameless, faceless people who’d died for interfering with her plans, or even crossing her path at the wrong time?

  She would, you know, came a thought. As before, it wasn’t a voice, but more of an impression. It didn’t feel like Trin, though.

  It’s not Trin. Verity blocked the oath. She doesn’t have any idea where you are right now. She can’t treat you like her little puppet on a string anymore.

  But what about the other stuff his father had said—the part about the tattoos, and Trin being connected to something else?

  He shook his head. That had to be wrong. As he’d told his father, he’d spent the last two years with Trin. He’d studied with her, partied with her, spent late nights kicking back at her Topanga Canyon house, drinking and discussing all manner of topics. He’d seen—hell, studied—her aura dozens of times. Surely if she’d been bound to something else, he’d have picked up on it.