Stone and a Hard Place Read Online Free PDF Page B

or liquor: the more you use it, the more you want to. I’ll tell you right up front that black magic feels good to cast. There’s a rush to it. But the problem is, you get to where you need more and more of that rush to get the same feeling. And every time you use others to gain power, you—” he cast about for the right words, “—well, ‘corrupt your soul’ isn’t quite right, but you get the idea. You make it so it’s harder and harder to do white magic, and eventually you can’t do it at all.” He fixed his gaze on Ethan. “So, I’m telling you right now—don’t let yourself be tempted. That’s why we’re taking this slow. Unless you plan on making a career as a serial killer, everything you should want to do with magic, you’ll be able to do with the white variety. Understood?”
    “Yeah. Except the part about—what did you mean when you said that you ‘power white magic with your own energy, and black magic with others’? How does that work?”
    “Just like it sounds. Think of it this way: white magic is like running a race. When you’re done you’re tired, but you’ve accomplished something on your own. Black magic is like having someone carry you on their back and run the race for you. You still get the same result, but instead of you getting tired, the other person does.”
    Ethan’s eyes widened. “So you mean—you literally take power from other people? Like—you drain their energy?” He shuddered. “That sounds like something out of a horror movie.”
    “And it is, essentially,” Stone agreed. “Some black mages have hangers-on that agree to supply them with power in exchange for—well, whatever. Money, influence, sex, whatever they want. Those mages are at what I call the ‘dark gray’ end of the spectrum. As long as they don’t do any permanent harm to their ‘batteries’ and the fools are willing, then there’s really not much that can be said about it.”
    “That’s—disgusting.” Ethan leaned forward on the couch, staring at Stone. “People actually let them do that? Doesn’t it hurt?”
    “It tires them out for a while—how much depends on how powerful the spell is. Sometimes it kills them, if the mage loses control. That doesn’t happen often with willing participants, but I’ve heard of cases where it did.”
    “And so, white mages do this to themselves? So you get tired when you cast spells? That doesn’t seem very useful, either.”
    “White magic isn’t really designed for casting quick harsh spells. We focus more on longer-term things, rituals, permanent enchantments, that sort of thing. But we can do it if we need to. And if we know ahead of time that we might need to, we can build items that will help take up some of the heavy lifting. But if you’re caught unawares, yes, you’ll have to watch yourself and make every spell count, because you won’t be able to cast many before you exhaust yourself.” Stone pushed himself off the desk. “But look at you—your eyes are glazing over. Don’t hesitate to tell me that I’m boring the socks off you. I’ve been told that I love the sound of my own voice, and I can’t really put up much of a defense.”
    Ethan chuckled. “No, it’s fine. It’s just a lot to take in, is all.”
    “Best to get used to it. Before we’re done, I’ll be filling you so full of information that you’ll be dreaming in magical formulae.”

CHAPTER FOUR
    Stone was in his office at Stanford late one afternoon a couple of weeks later when there was a knock on his door. He glanced up, curious. This wasn’t during his normal office hours, and the building that housed his office was far enough off the beaten track—Occult Studies wasn’t exactly a prestigious subject around these hallowed halls—that people didn’t drop by without a reason. “Come in,” he called, pushing aside the stack of student essays he was reading.
    The figure that shoved open the door wasn’t a student. “Hey there, you old fraud,” he