Read Online Stone and a Hard Place by R. L. King - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: R. L. King
Tags: Fantasy
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proceeding according to some directive that he didn’t even understand.
He hurried down the hall, but instead of making the first right as Langley had indicated, he continued in a straight line. He moved unerringly, even as he entered a part of the house that they had not passed through to reach the library. He—or some part of him, at least—knew exactly where he was headed.
At the end of the hall was a small, unassuming door. He reached for the knob, knowing it would be unlocked, and slipped through, closing it behind him. His fingers found the light switch like he had lived here all his life, his feet mounting the narrow wooden staircase with complete confidence.
At the top of the stairway was another door, also unlocked. He emerged into a vast, dark space, illuminated only by the moonlight coming in through the skylights high above. All around him rose the bulky, covered forms of furniture and other stored items, with the smell of dust and long disuse hovering heavily in the air. Ethan didn’t look down, only peripherally noticing the puffs of dust raised by his sure steps across the space. Even though his mind wasn’t truly here, a corner of it knew that he didn’t have long before he’d be missed. He’d have to do this fast.
Operating on unseen instructions, he shoved aside a large, sheet-covered object to reveal a taller, narrower one behind it, a few feet out from a wall. He crouched, grabbing the bottom of the sheet and whipping it free to reveal a mirror, taller than he was and surrounded by an ornately carved wooden frame. Then he backed up a few feet and waited, staring into its depths as if he expected to see something other than his own reflection in its milky, grime-encrusted surface.
When the glow appeared, he was not surprised, nor was he frightened. He waited in silence, unmoving. After a few moments passed, he nodded.
By the time he descended the stairs and reached the familiar hallway leading back to the library, he couldn’t remember what he was doing there. Must have taken a wrong turn, he figured, hurrying back to where he’d left the others.
Stone was just finishing his inspection of the library’s bookshelves when Ethan hurried back into the room, puffing. The mage raised an eyebrow. “Took you a while, Ethan. You all right?”
“Little upset stomach,” he said with a self-conscious grin. “Plus I missed the first right, so I kinda got lost and had to backtrack a little.”
“Yeah, that happens a lot,” Langley said, nodding. “First few times I was here I could barely find my way back to the main part of the house without a trail of breadcrumbs and a Sherpa.” He glanced at Stone. “So—have you seen enough? Are you ready to go? It is getting kind of late.”
Stone paused in the middle of the room, took one last look around, and then nodded. “I think so,” he said. “For now, anyway.”
“For now?” Langley was confused. “What’s that mean?”
“Tell you later. Don’t worry, I won’t frighten Aunt Adelaide. You’re right—she really is a delightful old lady.”
Seemingly mollified, Langley led them out of the room and back down the two flights of stairs. Instead of going to the sitting room where they’d all talked before, he led them in the opposite direction toward a cozy little room with an overstuffed couch and chair, both aimed at a surprisingly small, antiquated television set. Aunt Adelaide and Iona Li sat at opposite ends of the couch, watching Murder, She Wrote .
They both looked up as the three came in. “Well,” Adelaide said with a smile, “did you find anything, dear?”
Stone paused, his mind whirling as it considered and discarded responses. If he told the old lady the truth—even a fraction of it—he would probably give her quite a scare. And for what? It wasn’t like she was going to leave the house in any case, and so far whatever was there hadn’t done her any harm, beyond making her uneasy. But if he told her he hadn’t
He hurried down the hall, but instead of making the first right as Langley had indicated, he continued in a straight line. He moved unerringly, even as he entered a part of the house that they had not passed through to reach the library. He—or some part of him, at least—knew exactly where he was headed.
At the end of the hall was a small, unassuming door. He reached for the knob, knowing it would be unlocked, and slipped through, closing it behind him. His fingers found the light switch like he had lived here all his life, his feet mounting the narrow wooden staircase with complete confidence.
At the top of the stairway was another door, also unlocked. He emerged into a vast, dark space, illuminated only by the moonlight coming in through the skylights high above. All around him rose the bulky, covered forms of furniture and other stored items, with the smell of dust and long disuse hovering heavily in the air. Ethan didn’t look down, only peripherally noticing the puffs of dust raised by his sure steps across the space. Even though his mind wasn’t truly here, a corner of it knew that he didn’t have long before he’d be missed. He’d have to do this fast.
Operating on unseen instructions, he shoved aside a large, sheet-covered object to reveal a taller, narrower one behind it, a few feet out from a wall. He crouched, grabbing the bottom of the sheet and whipping it free to reveal a mirror, taller than he was and surrounded by an ornately carved wooden frame. Then he backed up a few feet and waited, staring into its depths as if he expected to see something other than his own reflection in its milky, grime-encrusted surface.
When the glow appeared, he was not surprised, nor was he frightened. He waited in silence, unmoving. After a few moments passed, he nodded.
By the time he descended the stairs and reached the familiar hallway leading back to the library, he couldn’t remember what he was doing there. Must have taken a wrong turn, he figured, hurrying back to where he’d left the others.
Stone was just finishing his inspection of the library’s bookshelves when Ethan hurried back into the room, puffing. The mage raised an eyebrow. “Took you a while, Ethan. You all right?”
“Little upset stomach,” he said with a self-conscious grin. “Plus I missed the first right, so I kinda got lost and had to backtrack a little.”
“Yeah, that happens a lot,” Langley said, nodding. “First few times I was here I could barely find my way back to the main part of the house without a trail of breadcrumbs and a Sherpa.” He glanced at Stone. “So—have you seen enough? Are you ready to go? It is getting kind of late.”
Stone paused in the middle of the room, took one last look around, and then nodded. “I think so,” he said. “For now, anyway.”
“For now?” Langley was confused. “What’s that mean?”
“Tell you later. Don’t worry, I won’t frighten Aunt Adelaide. You’re right—she really is a delightful old lady.”
Seemingly mollified, Langley led them out of the room and back down the two flights of stairs. Instead of going to the sitting room where they’d all talked before, he led them in the opposite direction toward a cozy little room with an overstuffed couch and chair, both aimed at a surprisingly small, antiquated television set. Aunt Adelaide and Iona Li sat at opposite ends of the couch, watching Murder, She Wrote .
They both looked up as the three came in. “Well,” Adelaide said with a smile, “did you find anything, dear?”
Stone paused, his mind whirling as it considered and discarded responses. If he told the old lady the truth—even a fraction of it—he would probably give her quite a scare. And for what? It wasn’t like she was going to leave the house in any case, and so far whatever was there hadn’t done her any harm, beyond making her uneasy. But if he told her he hadn’t
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