by R. L. King
“If they are, they can still hear you when you whisper, you know.”
She gave an uncomfortable little laugh. “Oh. Yeah, right. Hi, phone tapper guy. Want to know a secret? Dr. Stone’s really a British spy. He has tea with the Queen twice a month and the Corgis adore him.”
“All right, enough of that. Don’t give away all my secrets.”
“So…can I help?”
As always, her loyalty warmed him. Especially after what they’d been through recently. “I don’t see how, at least not in the short term. If we find out anything, we’ll probably move quickly. She might already be dead. It’s…not hospitable for her here, whoever’s got her notwithstanding.”
“Damn. I hope not. Okay, well, you know how to reach me. I should be home in the next couple days, and I’m serious—if you need help, call me.”
“Thank you, Verity. I appreciate it.” He paused. “Enough talk about me and my problems. How are you doing?”
Her tone suggested she’d picked up the unspoken nuance of his question. “I’m…okay, I guess. The trip’s been good, like I said. Lots of time to think. And I’ve come to terms with the fact that my big idea isn’t going to fly—at least not the way I originally envisioned it.”
Stone didn’t reply. Even though he’d made no secret that he didn’t agree with Verity’s plan to mobilize the magical community to govern itself and deal with renegades, that didn’t mean he was pleased she’d received such a lukewarm response when she tried to float the idea at the Occult Symposium last month.
“Seriously,” she said, “I’m okay with that. I’ve been thinking a lot about your suggestions, and when I get home I’d like to see about getting somewhere with them.”
“You know you can count on my support with that.”
“I know. And I appreciate it.”
She still sounded pensive, though, and he knew that wasn’t the only thing on her mind. “Come on, apprentice. You can’t hide from me. Not even on the phone. What’s the problem?”
Her sigh was loud enough to come through over the line. “I guess…I’ve just been thinking a lot about Sharra. I miss her, Doc.”
He tightened his hand on the phone. She’d definitely seemed lighter lately—happier. But something like that didn’t just go away. “I know. Of course you do. I do too.”
“It wasn’t fair for that to happen to her. I keep thinking about how if we hadn’t stopped when we did, if we hadn’t gone to New York at all…”
“Verity…” he interrupted gently. “Come on. That kind of thinking won’t get you anywhere and you know it. There’s no way to know the future. Not even for our kind. And you can’t second-guess your every decision. It will drive you mad. Believe me, I know this.”
“I know. But…I’ve been dreaming about her. About that horrible woman. We don’t even know who she was, and she might still be alive out there, doing…that…to other people.”
That thought had not been lost on Stone. In fact, after they’d returned from England, he’d looked into trying to locate Miriam Cheltham. He’d even asked Eddie and Ward to discreetly use their contacts, but so far all their searches had come up empty. He was nearly certain the name was a fake, and if she was a powerful mage, it would be easy for her to remain under the radar if she desired. “I haven’t forgotten about her. It’s just—”
“I know. Too many things going on. I get it. I just wish I could reach into my brain and forget what happened. Not forget Sharra, but…you know, maybe brew up a potion like Whitworth used on those kids, and forget.”
“I understand. But you know that won’t work, right? And even if it did, I wouldn’t advise it.”
“Oh, don’t worry. No plans to do it. But it’s a nice little fantasy, you know?”
“I do. And you know I’m always available if you need a good listener.”
She made a sound that was half-chuckle, half-sniffle. “Yeah, I know. This is…good.”
“What’s good?”
“This. Talking. Without…the rest of it. Not gonna lie, I’ll still miss the sex. But I’d rather lose that than lose you. Does that make sense?”
“It absolutely does, love. Are you going to be all right?”
“Oh, yeah. I’m tough. I’ve got good beer, bad Mexican food, and the waitress is kinda hot. Maybe I’ll see if she wants to hang out or something when she gets off shift.”
“Good for you.”
“Keep me posted, though, okay? I meant it about helping. And Doc?”
“Yes?”
“I know I say this all the time, but be careful. I know you-know-who’s been good for you, but he’s also dangerous. Don’t let him drag you down with him.”
13
Harrison hadn’t gotten back to Stone by late the following morning, and Stone was beginning to think he’d gone off to handle the situation on his own. Finally, the thought got to be too much for him and he headed downstairs to find Nakamura.
The assistant was in his office, and smiled when Stone came in. “Ah, Dr. Stone. I was about to call you.”
“I’m looking for Harrison—has he turned up?”
“He’d like you to meet him in the Obsidian Club in…” he glanced at his watch. “…forty-five minutes.”
“And he couldn’t just tell me this himself?”
Nakamura chuckled. “It’s my understanding he’s currently somewhere that makes direct communication difficult.”
Ah. Of course. Stone wondered how he was communicating from Calanar at all—it probably involved shifting something between dimensions in the office.
Life around Harrison was never dull, that was certain.
The Obsidian Club was an elegant, minimalist bar tucked away on the second floor, behind a double staircase. At the top of the staircase was an observation area with a brushed-steel railing, affording a wide view of the main part of the casino. The bar had the feel of a members-only facility, but nobody stopped Stone as he headed inside.
Only a few customers were scattered among the place’s tiny tables this time of day. Stone hurried through and found Harrison all the way in the back, staring moodily out one of the floor-to-ceiling, dark-tinted windows. He had a closed folder on the table in front of him.
“Good morning. I hope your evening was more interesting than mine.” Stone dropped into the chair across from him.
“Good morning, Dr. Stone.” Harrison seemed unaffected by Stone’s words. “I apologize for the delay.” Today he wore a dark gray shirt and crisp, creased black trousers; as usual, Stone felt underdressed in his jeans, Queen T-shirt, and long black coat.
“No need to apologize, assuming you found something to make it worth the time.”
A server approached, and Stone ordered a cup of coffee. It was a bit too early for Guinness.
Harrison never displayed much of an expression, but now Stone got the impression of grimness. “I have discovered the Traveler’s likely location.”
“Have you?” That was a surprise—but he supposed it shouldn’t be. If he ever needed to find out something hidden in a hurry, he wasn’t sure, between Harrison and Kolinsky, who he should put his money on. If the two ever got together, the possibilities were terrifying. “I assume that means she’s still alive.”
“As far as I know, yes. I also discovered the identity of the man who entered your room in Colorado.”
“Oh?” Stone leaned forward. “Who is he?”
Harrison opened the folder and pushed a single sheet of paper across toward him.
The photo at the top was familiar: it was definitely Todd. He scanned the page quickly. To his complete lack of surprise, the man’s name wasn’t Todd at all. It was Matthew Fischer. “He’s…some kind of agent.” That wasn’t a surprise, either.
“Yes. He works for a small government organization tasked with investigating rumors of extraterrestrial life on Earth.”
“I…see. And so he does think our Traveler is some sort of space alien.”
“Apparently so. I was unable to discov
er much detail about the agency—even my sources are not limitless.”
“But you found out where she is.”
“I believe so, yes. The agency maintains a facility in Kansas. To the outside world, it appears to be a simple farm complex.”
“So we’re not talking about magic here.”
“I don’t believe so, no. I’ve seen no indication of it.”
“That’s a relief, I suppose. It will make things easier. But it seemed like they knew quite a bit about me and my travel habits. Should I be concerned about that?”
“I don’t know, Dr. Stone. Should you?”
He snorted. “I wonder if they think I’m one of their extraterrestrials. Anyway, okay. You know where she is. What are you planning to do about it?”
Harrison’s unsettling gaze leveled on him. “I am planning to retrieve her, of course, and return her to her people on Calanar.”
If it had been anyone other than Harrison saying that, Stone might have burst into laughter at the absurdity of it all. Yes, of course. You’re going to break into a secret government lab, just like that. No trouble at all.
With Harrison, the words didn’t sound so amusing. “So…you’re telling me about this, which means you haven’t gone off on your own already to do it. Does that mean you want me to come along?”
“You had expressed interest before. There is no need—I can certainly handle the situation myself. But given that you discovered it, I thought perhaps you might wish to see it through.”
“I definitely would. When do you plan to leave?”
“Immediately, if you have no objection.”
Stone sensed Harrison didn’t give a damn if he had any objections. “Er—sure. I’ve got nothing else to do. I don’t like gambling, and I’m hardly the type to lounge by the pool sipping drinks with umbrellas in.” He narrowed his eyes. “One thing, though.”
“Yes?”
“We’re not killing anyone. I won’t be party to that.” Stone realized the pointlessness of dropping ultimatums on Harrison, but hoped they were on the same page about this. With Harrison, you could never tell for sure. “Whoever these people are, they’re doing their job. They’ve got no idea what this Traveler is, or where she’s come from.”
“I make no guarantees, Dr. Stone. My response will depend on their actions, and the condition in which we find the Traveler.”
Stone sighed. It was the best he was going to get, he supposed. “Well, then, let’s do our best to make sure we get in and get out without confronting anyone. I assume you’ve got ways to hide us.”
“I do.”
“All right, then, I’m in.” He wasn’t sure it was the right decision, but he was sure it was the only one he could make. After all this effort, there was no way he wouldn’t see this through. “When do we leave? And how? Will we be popping to the Nexus and down into their backyard?”
“No.” Harrison stood and picked up his folder. “We can travel to Denver via the Nexus, but we will need to drive the remainder of the way.”
That was interesting. “So…you can’t just pop in anywhere you like.”
“No. Certain preparations are required. I have numerous locations—far more than are covered by standard public portals—but there are limitations.”
Intrigued in spite of himself, Stone stood too. “So…what, you have to visit the location? Place a teleport pad? Prepare something in some special command center back home on Calanar?”
Harrison didn’t answer. “We will leave in an hour. If you have any preparations you must complete, please make them quickly, and meet me in my office. I won’t wait for you, Dr. Stone, so I urge you to be prompt.” Without another word, he strode from the bar.
“Well. All right, then,” Stone murmured.
He didn’t have any preparations—what could he do here in Las Vegas?—so he spent the intervening time in his suite. He sent a text to Jason letting him know that if everything went well, he’d be home tomorrow. He hoped it was true.
Great, Jason sent back. Been so busy I haven’t had much time to think about anything but work, but I want to get on with it.
Harrison was waiting for him when he arrived at the office. Stone found him at his desk, watching a bank of monitors displaying at least two dozen different areas around the casino. He was still dressed the same as before, and no bags or other equipment were in evidence.
“We’re just going like this?” Stone asked.
“We will gather what we need at the Nexus. Are you ready?” Harrison stabbed a button and the monitors all went to black.
“As I’ll ever be, I suppose.”
“This way.” Harrison crossed to the other side of the office and walked through the wall. A moment later, his disembodied voice came through: “I’ve adjusted the illusion so you can follow.”
Stone had never read the Harry Potter novels, but they were popular with his students so he couldn’t help picking up bits and pieces. Right now, he felt like he was stepping through on Platform Nine and Three Quarters. Most illusions didn’t work that way—once you saw through them, they simply faded away. But as usual, Harrison’s magic didn’t work as expected. He drew a deep breath, held it, and strode forward. At least he didn’t have to be concerned it might be a prank. Stone couldn’t think of anyone on earth less likely to pull pranks than Trevor Harrison. That included the Secret Service and the IRS.
On the other side of the illusionary wall was a featureless room with black walls and floor. “Where are we going?” Stone asked. “This doesn’t look like the place I appeared when you sent me back the last time.”
“It is not. If need be, I can shift the entire hotel between here and Calanar, but that requires an immense amount of energy.”
“Ah. So this small, simple space makes it easier.”
“Vastly, yes. Please remain still. This will only take a few seconds.”
Once again, Stone didn’t feel anything. He tried this time to sense any movement, change in energy, or anything else that might indicate a shift between dimensions, but the black walls remained the same and his body felt no different.
“Er…when are we going?”
“We are already here, Dr. Stone.” Harrison stepped away and raised a hand, revealing a door on the side of the room that hadn’t been there before. “Come with me.”
“Bloody hell…” he murmured. “So we’re back on Calanar now?”
“Yes, but we won’t be remaining long.”
Stone followed him from the room. “No chance to say hello to anyone? Errin? Kira?”
“Not this time.” Harrison lengthened his stride, his entire bearing suggesting purposeful action.
Stone thought about asking him if he could stay when they returned with the Traveler, but didn’t. Instead, he increased his own pace to catch up.
At the end of the hall was one of the teleport pads Stone remembered from his previous visit, surrounded by the familiar brushed-metal railing. Harrison stepped onto it and indicated for Stone to do the same.
They reappeared in a small room with no furnishings. It had a door and a single window, covered by blinds that let in only a small amount of sunlight.
Stone looked down and saw no teleport pad. “Where are we?”
“Denver.” Harrison was already heading for the door.
Stone had so many questions as he followed, but didn’t ask any of them. Harrison clearly wasn’t in the mood to answer. He wondered if this was how Verity and Jason felt, chasing around after him while he dashed off somewhere without explaining himself.
“So—what—we’re walking to a place we can hire a car?”
“No. Mr. Nakamura has already arranged transportation.” He pushed open a door and strode through, flipping on a switch as he went.
A bank of lights came up, illuminating a nearly empty, two-car garage. The only thing inside was a gleaming black crew-cab pickup truck.
“Well,” Stone murmured. “Not exactly the sort of vehicle I’d ever expect to see you driving.
I thought we’d be in an Aston Martin or something.”
“An Aston Martin would have a difficult time avoiding attention in Kansas.”
Stone suspected Harrison wasn’t any happier about their choice of vehicle than he was, but at least it was new.
Harrison was already opening the door. He tossed his bag in the backseat and slipped behind the wheel without comment, touching a button on the visor to open the garage door.
Stone glanced out. They were on a deserted street in what looked like a sparsely populated business district. Harrison had already started the truck, so he hurried to get in before he left without him. He wouldn’t put it past the man.
They drove in silence for twenty minutes, leaving Denver and heading east on Highway 70. Stone leaned back in the comfortable leather seat, occasionally glancing over at Harrison, who had his gaze fixed firmly on the road. He drove fast—faster than even speed-junkie Stone probably would have risked under the circumstances—but maintained a steady hand. Stone wondered if he was using any magic to conceal them.
Finally, he grew tired of the silence. Harrison hadn’t even turned on the stereo for some driving music, and Stone began to wonder if he planned to make the whole trip without saying a word. “So…” he ventured. “How has it been on Calanar since I left?”
“Much the same,” Harrison said.
“So the resistance hasn’t made much headway?”
“There has been…progress. But also setbacks. Those in power do not surrender it easily.”
Stone glanced at him again. “Is that what you’re so busy with? The reason I can’t come back and finish my studies right now?”
“Among other things, yes.”
Stone nodded, subsiding back into his seat. Obviously Harrison wasn’t in the mood to talk, and he’d be damned if he’d act like some inquisitive kid trying to fill every second with chatter. If that was the way it was going to be, then so be it.
His mind drifted to thoughts of Jason, and he sighed. His friend wanted a quick fix, an easy answer. He wanted to know what Melvin Whitworth had done to him, and how—or if—it translated into some kind of magical ability. Stone wanted to know that too, but after studying what he had of Whitworth’s notes, he knew a quick answer wasn’t going to materialize. It would take a lot of study, trial and error, and experiments, and even then he wasn’t sure he’d find the truth. He wasn’t even sure there was anything to find, and if that turned out to be the case, he wasn’t in a hurry to disappoint Jason again.