The Sorcerer Heir

by Cinda Williams Chima

  But what was the alternative?

  She thought about Chief Childers, how kind he had been. But that would change once he knew who she really was, that she had a police record, that she’d left Memphis after her grandfather was murdered.

  By the time she exited the highway downtown, she’d decided. She would leave. DeVries couldn’t make her testify if he couldn’t find her. The police couldn’t arrest her either. She could take her few thousand dollars and find a hole to hide in.

  Nobody was home at Aunt Millie’s. Emma changed clothes, washed her face, and scraped her hair back into a rubber band. Then carefully sorted through her clothes, picking out socks, underwear, a few shirts and pairs of jeans, and stuffing them into a duffel bag. She slid her money stash into a side pocket. It was the cash she’d been saving to set up her own woodshop. If she lived cheap, she could make it last a while.

  That’s what happens to dreams, she thought. They get sanded away by real life.

  When she’d finished packing, she looked around to make sure she’d left enough behind that her room still looked lived-in. That should give her a little time. It helped that the council didn’t mean to involve the police, so there wouldn’t be some kind of bulletin put out on her.

  She loaded the little she was taking into the Element, then did a quick look-around. That’s when she spotted Tyler’s notebook. It still lay where she’d dropped it on a table by the door. Running her fingertips over the plastic cover, she debated. She didn’t really need a big old binder to carry around. But it was, after all, the only remnant of her father left to her. Lifting it from the table, she saw that one section bristled with those tiny sticky notes. The section dedicated to Emma. Pinned to the divider was a note from Kenzie.

  The note was typed—she imagined Kenzie dictating it to Harry, his face illuminated by the light from the screen.

  Emma—

  Harry and I analyzed it every which way. Also took a whack with Sibelius. The one pattern I identified was that the time signature is not consistent. In other words, some measures are longer than others—some are 4:4 time, some are 4:5 or even 4:8, because some of the notes are the wrong duration and pitch. There didn’t seem to be any repeating pattern. Here’s a list of all the messed-up songs. You’ll see that I went through and highlighted all of the inconsistent measures. I tried a mathematical analysis on the music. Still nothing. I think it’s code that you might know the key for. Hope it means something to you.

  —K

  This was followed by a winnowed-down list of songs. Emma scanned them, looking for a clue. Kenzie had transcribed the titles in order as he went through the notebook. They weren’t alphabetical—the arrangement didn’t make any sense that she could see. Sometimes three or four songs were clean, followed by two annotated ones.

  Emma flipped through the tagged songs, one by one, studying the marked measures. Finally, she grabbed a tablature notebook and an ink pen. She went through and wrote down all the mistimed notes. When she had a list, she looked it over. Nothing came to mind. Scooping up her guitar, she plunked them out. The sound was random, off-key, not any tune she’d heard before.

  She went through the songs again, this time recording the lyrics opposite the extra notes in each marked measure. When she’d finished, she scanned the results, her pulse quickening.

  Emma: 324 Venable Chapel Rd, Beasley, TN. Mickey has the key. I’m sorry.

  Beasley? Where the hell was Beasley? She was firing up the computer to look when she stopped cold. Couldn’t that kind of thing be traced, what you search for on a computer?

  It was someplace in Tennessee, anyway. Now Emma knew, without a scrap of doubt, that she had to head south, though that was exactly what everyone would expect her to do.

  She weighed her phone in her hand. Cell phones could be traced, too. But she didn’t want to leave it here, because when she didn’t show up, they’d be calling it and realize she hadn’t taken it with her. So she packaged it up and addressed it to herself at the Anchorage so it would be waiting for her if she ever came back. She pasted all of Aunt Millie’s stamps on it, and left a twenty to square things.

  She knew she should slip away while she had the chance, without answering any questions or risking getting into a tangle. But she couldn’t leave without saying good-bye to Leesha, who’d been kinder to her than just about anybody.

  So she wrote a note and left it on the dining room table.

  Leesha, I’m staying over in Cleveland for a few days, but I’ll be back on the weekend. I just want to say thanks again for being such a friend to me. Your friend, Emma Lee.

  On her way out of town, she dropped her packaged up cell phone into a mailbox.

  The day after the meeting between Gabriel and Lilith, Gabriel called an all-hands meeting of Nightshade. Jonah slept in and went to the gym instead. Two hours later, he’d worked himself into a lather of sweat and his muscles had that familiar, wrung-out ache.

  That’s when he noticed that Natalie was waiting for him down on the floor.

  He dropped lightly onto the hardwood beside her. “Hey, Nat,” he said.

  She radiated guilt, not meeting his eyes. “We missed you at the meeting,” she said.

  Jonah slapped his forehead. “Damn! Was that this morning?” He paused, and then asked, “How’d it go?” because Natalie seemed to be expecting it.

  “It was...interesting,” Natalie said. “Maybe even a little encouraging. Lilith was there.”

  “Was she?” Jonah said, pretending disinterest.

  “Both she and Gabriel seemed disappointed that you weren’t there.”

  “Really? Did she say that, or just, you know, use hand gestures?”

  “She was hard to understand, but she was audible,” Natalie said.

  “You understand the cost of that, right?” Jonah said.

  Natalie shifted her weight from foot to foot. “She let Gabriel do most of the talking.”

  “Gabriel does like to talk.” Jonah toweled off. “What did he say?”

  “He issued new ground rules for Nightshade. The field operatives are not to harm any shades, hosted or not. In return, shades are not to kill any more gifted here in Ohio.”

  “Terrific,” Jonah said. “How was that received?”

  “There were a lot of questions. I think most of us would like to give it a chance.”

  “What did Alison say?”

  That was a direct hit, Jonah could tell.

  “She...um...had reservations.”

  “The shades were on board, too?” Jonah cocked his head.

  Natalie flushed. “There weren’t any shades there.”

  “Ah. I see.” Jonah slung his towel around his neck. “A cease-fire only works if both sides agree.”

  “Lilith is going to meet with them separately.”

  “Lilith controls only a handful of shades,” Jonah said. “Otherwise, it’s the Wild West out there.” He paused. “What happens when she runs out of blood magic?”

  “Lilith has a limited supply on hand. And there are some other therapies she’d like to try, based on her research.”

  “That’s going to take a while,” Jonah said, “and I don’t think we have a while.”

  “We have to try, Jonah,” Natalie said, tears pooling in her eyes. “I mean, what’s the alternative?”

  Jonah felt a twinge of guilt. It wasn’t like he had one to offer. “So what’s the plan?”

  “We’re going to begin a process of reconciliation,” Natalie said.

  “That’s hard to do when you can’t communicate.”

  “Gabriel is hoping that you will help with that.”

  Jonah just looked at her, his lips pressed tightly together.

  “Well. Anyway. I thought you might want to know what went down,” Natalie said, turning away.

  “Thanks, Nat,” Jonah called after
her. “Thanks for filling me in. I hope this all works out.”

  After his shower, Jonah found himself walking to the Steel Wool Building for the second day in a row. He’d stopped in the night before and briefed Kenzie on what had gone down at the meeting between Gabriel and Lilith. Kenzie seemed to follow what Jonah was saying—he asked a couple of questions, but otherwise it seemed that staying alive consumed all of his strength and attention.

  Stay with me, Kenzie, Jonah thought. I could really use your advice right now. Kenzie had a way of cutting through the bullshit. Maybe continually dancing on the knife’s-edge of death did that to a person.

  Jonah beat down the thought that if he could get his hands on more blood magic, he could restore Kenzie’s health enough that they could leave the Anchorage together.

  The streets seemed oddly deserted. He’d thought he might run into some Nightshade operatives who could tell him what had gone down at the meeting. He saw a few of the civilian students amid the usual pedestrians. Nobody from Nightshade.

  But when Jonah reached Kenzie’s room, the door was locked. Jonah pounded on the door. No answer. He called Kenzie’s phone. It went to voice mail. He checked the time again. It was only six P.M. He might be asleep, but...

  He keyed in the access code to the tablet outside Kenzie’s room. It came up VACANT. A cold finger of fear ran down Jonah’s spine. A voice shouted inside his head. Too late!

  He turned, and charged down the hallway to the nurse’s station. Todd Doherty, the evening shift nurse, had his head down, keying notes into a chart. He looked up at Jonah, and his face turned the color of library paste. “Jonah! It’s good to—”

  “Where is Kenzie? Why didn’t anyone tell me he’s been moved?”

  “He’s safe and comfortable, don’t worry.” Todd stared at Jonah’s gloved hands.

  “I’m so glad he’s safe and comfortable; now tell me where he is,” Jonah said, forcing the words between stiff lips.

  “I can’t,” Todd said.

  Jonah knew Todd, he liked Todd, but just now it was all he could do not to lunge across the desk between them and close his hands around Todd’s throat. Instead, he said, “You can’t? Because...”

  “I can’t because I don’t know where he is.”

  “Really? How is it possible that you don’t know?” Jonah said, his voice low and deadly.

  Todd swallowed hard. “Mr. Mandrake said that if you had any questions you should come see him.”

  “Did he now?” Jonah leaned closer.

  Todd scooted his chair back until it hit the wall, raising both hands to fend Jonah off. “Mr. Mandrake is in his office.”

  “Thank you,” Jonah said on his way out the door.

  “I’m so sorry, Jonah,” Todd called after him.

  Before heading to the Keep, Jonah made a quick detour around the back of Steel Wool to the back entrance—the entrance to Safe Passage. Jadine, the duty nurse, jumped when Jonah burst through the door.

  “Jonah!” she said, coming quickly to her feet. “What brings you here? We don’t have any residents right now....”

  Jonah didn’t answer, but quickly circled the nurse’s station, looking into every room, opening every closed door. All were empty of patients.

  “Is there something I should know about?” Jadine asked.

  “Have you seen Kenzie?” Jonah demanded.

  Jadine shook her head. “Kenzie? No, I haven’t seen him.” Her face clouded with worry. “Why—were you thinking he’d been transferred here?” she asked gently.

  “Thanks, Jadine,” Jonah said, and slammed out of the door.

  Jonah knew that Gabriel would have had plenty of advance warning that he was on his way over. Briefly, he debated whether it was wise to come in the front door. His instincts told him to be wary of a trap. And yet he tried to tell himself that this was Gabriel. He’d been looking out for Kenzie for years. He’d probably made the decision to move Kenzie to Safe Passage in an undisclosed location. Jonah would just have to find a way to make him understand that it was the wrong thing to do. That Kenzie wasn’t ready to go there.

  He was good at persuasion, right? Only just now he was not in a persuasive mood.

  The alley door yielded to his entry code, and Jonah loped up the stairs and through the second security gauntlet. The outer office, where Patrick Murphy generally stood guard, was empty. Jonah gingerly tried the door to Gabriel’s office. It was unlocked. Jonah listened. This office was occupied—at least two people were inside.

  Turning the handle, Jonah nudged the door open with his foot, ready to leap aside in the event of attack. None came. Jonah edged around the door frame and into the office.

  Gabriel stood behind his desk, clearly waiting for him. Lilith perched on the edge of his desk. Jonah was surprised to find her occupying the same body, the one Gabriel had nearly decapitated at the old B&O Terminal. It appeared to be all healed up—Lilith practically glowed with health.

  Clearly, she’d been dosed up with blood magic. Jonah couldn’t help wondering who had died to put those roses in her cheeks.

  “Hello, Jonah,” Gabriel said.

  “Gabriel.” Jonah looked from Gabriel to Lilith.

  “We missed you at the meeting this morning,” Gabriel said, running a hand over his close-cropped hair.

  “I couldn’t be there,” Jonah said, forcing a neutral tone.

  “I hope we’re not going to be at odds from here on in,” Gabriel said.

  “Actually, I was busy looking for my brother. He seems to have disappeared. Any idea where he might be?”

  Gabriel and Lilith looked at each other. Gabriel gave a little headshake.

  “Is he dead?” Jonah’s voice rose. “Is that what you don’t want me to know?”

  Kenzie’s fine, Jonah, Lilith said in a reasonably clear voice. He’s responding to therapy really well, in fact.

  “What do you mean by that?” Jonah asked, though he thought he knew.

  It’s amazing what a little blood magic will do, Lilith said. But then, you know that already, don’t you?

  Jonah leveled his gaze at her. “I’m glad to hear that he’s doing well,” he said carefully. “I’d like to see for myself.”

  “I’m afraid that won’t be possible,” Gabriel said.

  “Because...?”

  “Because you’ve made your position clear—that you disapprove of our collaboration with the undead survivors of Thorn Hill.”

  Jonah saw where this was going, but he wanted to hear it plainly. “What’s that got to do with Kenzie?”

  “We need to make sure that you don’t do anything to sabotage our plans,” Gabriel said.

  “What plans?”

  A plan to save all of the Thorn Hill survivors, living and dead, Lilith said.

  “Except, I assume, for the shades we’ve riffed on Gabriel’s orders,” Jonah said.

  Except for them, Lilith said. Unfortunately.

  “But in order to make that happen, we’re going to have to work together,” Gabriel said. “All of us. Including you.”

  “Sounds fantastic,” Jonah said. “Why would I sabotage a plan like that?”

  “Why indeed?” Gabriel said.

  “Then why are you holding Kenzie hostage?”

  “Hostage is such a loaded word,” Gabriel said. “We have his best interests at heart. We want to assure his survival until we’re in a position to offer curative therapy.”

  “You think I don’t want that?” Jonah said through gritted teeth. “Now, are you going to tell me where he is, or do I have to take this place apart brick by brick?”

  “I am not going to tell you where he is, and you are not going to get your way by threatening me or the institution that has taken care of you and your brother for ten years,” Gabriel said. “That continues to care for all of the survivors of the Thorn Hill
disaster.”

  “Says the man who poisoned us in the first place.”

  Gabriel did not poison you, Lilith said. Nor did I.

  “What are you planning to do?”

  “We’ll go over the plan in detail when the time comes,” Gabriel said. “When you need to know it.”

  “I thought we were all working together,” Jonah said, his voice dripping with derision. “Guess not.”

  Gabriel leaned forward, planting his hands on his desk, his voice steely. “I am doing what I believe to be in the best interests of the survivors of Thorn Hill. As I always have done. There was a time that you believed that, and I hope we can get back there again.”

  “How do I know that Kenzie is still alive?” Jonah said.

  What are you so worried about? Lilith said. Kenzie is immortal, just like the rest of us.

  Gabriel shot Lilith a warning look, then turned back to Jonah. “Jonah, if you can demonstrate that you’ve regained your senses, perhaps we’ll allow you to see your brother. I think you’ll be pleased with his progress.”

  Jonah took a deep breath, released it. Let go of his rage, replacing it with cold calculation. He had to play it smart. And he would. If they were telling the truth, and Kenzie was alive and improving, his brother would find a way to get in touch. If they weren’t telling the truth, well, he’d deal with that, too. Storming out and slamming doors might be satisfying in the short run, but in the long run it wouldn’t get him where he needed to go. Best not to burn bridges until he managed to drag his brother to the other side.

  How far would he go to save his brother? As far as he needed to go.

  “All right,” Jonah said, with a stiff nod. “Let me know what you need me to do.”

  Maybe the weather gods had decided that Emma shouldn’t ever get to Memphis. They’d stuck a big winter storm in her way, one of those that come up out of the south and ambush you. It was snow all the way to Cincinnati, and then ice through Kentucky. Though the Element was all-wheel drive, Emma guessed that the tires were almost as old as she was. She passed this big billboard along the highway that said, in black letters on stark white, ARE YOU READY TO MEET GOD?