Linda looked up at him, her eyes swimming with unshed tears. “I don’t know, Jack,” she said, swallowing hard. “You’re a warrior, I suppose.”
Jack shrugged, unsure why that was bad news. “So why would Dr. Longbranch want to suppress these warrior powers, whatever they are?”
“It was important to keep your secret hidden.”
“Hidden from whom?” Although Linda had initiated this strange conversation, he felt like he was dragging information out of her, bit by precious bit.
“People could be looking for you, Jack,” she said quietly.
“What people? And why?” Jack was bewildered.
“Wizards. Like the man in the courthouse. They are always looking for warriors to fight for them, or trying to kill warriors who fight for their opponents. They don’t want the other side to gain an advantage. The best time to recruit or attack a warrior is when he is untrained, before he comes of age.”
Jack shivered and looked around the room. The waitress had lit candles on each table as the daylight died. Shadows flickered and danced on the walls. The lake had turned a slate gray color as darkness fell. Suddenly, the world seemed like a dangerous place.
“But I’m not on a side,” Jack pointed out. “I don’t want to fight anybody.”
“It doesn’t matter. They’ll come after you anyway.”
She’s not telling me everything, Jack thought. He felt as though he were peering through a keyhole into a room full of demons and he could only see the one nearest the door. It was quite possible the rest were even bigger and uglier.
“Can’t I get rid of this crystal somehow?”
“You’d die,” Aunt Linda said simply. The two sat in silence for a time.
“So what are the chances anyone would find me in Trinity?” Jack asked.
She released a soft breath. “There are wizards in Trinity now, looking for you. I don’t know how they tracked you here. We didn’t know about them until the soccer tryouts. When you blew Garrett Lobeck into the net. You forgot to take your medicine, and you were leaking magic.” She hesitated. “Your powers are beginning to manifest. In warriors, that usually happens at about your age.” Her voice shook a little. In fact, there was considerable unexplained emotion in the whole conversation.
“They came after you that afternoon, but you’d already left practice.” Linda shivered. “Wizards can detect use of power and link it to a stone. Nick managed to . . . to distract them.”
“Nick!” He said it louder than he intended, and looked around guiltily. The room was still empty. Nick. Even Nick. One of them. One of us? “So who is he, really?” Jack demanded.
“His name is Nicodemus Snowbeard. He’s a wizard,” Linda replied. “He’s looked after you ever since you were born.”
Somewhere in the back of his mind, Jack had always wondered why a man as intelligent as Nick was working as a handyman in a small Ohio town. But what hold could Linda have on the wizard, to persuade him to take on this job?
“Can an enchanter charm a wizard?”
She thought a moment, cleared her throat. “We are masters of mind magic. Wizards are more powerful than enchanters, because of their use of spoken charms. But they are vulnerable to us, also, particularly if we take them unawares. They cannot always detect our use of power. We can change appearance, seduce them, make them act foolishly.”
She’d slipped in that part about seduction along with the rest. I don’t even want to know this, Jack told himself. So why am I asking so many questions?
“Each of the other guilds has some specific advantage over wizards. For example, a warrior can defeat a wizard in a physical fight, if he can keep the wizard from casting a charm. As you found out in the graveyard. Sorcerers are experts in material magic, potions, talismans, magical tools, and so on. Small magics. A sorcerer may produce an artifact that either enhances or limits a wizard’s magic. An enchanter may bewitch him. Most Anawizard Weir, once they are alert to it, can sense a wizard’s stone, while wizards cannot detect the other stones unless there is a release of power. But wizards can use spoken charms, physical and mind magic, which makes them most powerful overall.”
Jack wondered if he should be taking notes. “So the wizard in the graveyard followed us to Coal Grove from Trinity?”
She shook her head. “No. Thank God. I know him by reputation. His name is Geoffrey Wylie. But it seems he doesn’t know who I am, and based on what happened in the graveyard, he doesn’t know who you are, either. He was after the sword, and the fact that you crossed paths was a coincidence. We have to hope he doesn’t follow the genealogy any further. If they find out who you are, you’ll have to leave Trinity.”
Jack stared at her. Linda leaned over the table, speaking softly. “We have to either suppress your powers, or hide them. That’s where your new vest comes in. It prevents them from detecting your stone, even if there is a release. Along with some other advantages that I’m sure you’ve noticed.”
The import of this penetrated slowly. “So Mercedes is in on this, too?” Eccentric Mercedes Foster, with her clouds of wiry gray hair and wild handwoven clothing. Mercedes with her garden full of exotic plants, some too poisonous to touch.
“Mercedes is a sorcerer,” Linda said matter-of-factly.
Jack reviewed a mental map of his neighborhood. “Blaise and Richard?”
“Blaise is a soothsayer,” said Aunt Linda, laughing in spite of herself at the look on his face. “Richard is Anaweir. A non-heir,” she added.
“Iris?”
“A wizard.”
“Hanson and Sarah?”
“Anaweir. A nice old couple that loves babies.”
“There goes the neighborhood,” Jack growled. He massaged his forehead with his fingertips. What had started as pressure was now a really bad headache. He felt like his world had been turned inside out. He wanted to sit and review every little detail of his life so far, sift for the little clues that might have warned him. “So these are all my relatives?”
“So to speak,” Linda replied. “You all carry the same ancient blood.”
Jack shoved back from the table, sloshing the tea out of Linda’s cup. “Well, thanks so much for sharing this with me. Finally. So what now? Do I go home and hide under the bed? Wait and see if someone comes after me?”
“No,” she said. “It’s too late for that. They’re relentless. It’s only a matter of time before they discover your whereabouts.” Apparently not liking what she saw in his face, Linda rushed on. “That’s why we . . . ah . . . I decided to retrieve your grandmother’s sword. We . . . that is . . . I thought that perhaps, with some training . . .”
“Training?” This was all crazy, but there was something about his aunt’s manner that was absolutely compelling, impossible to turn away from. Maybe that was her gift. This ability to capture a person and work them until they suspended the rules of common sense. The enchanter has bewitched you. He looked into Linda’s blue-gold eyes and knew it was true. He was helpless to resist. “Training for what?”
“We’re going to teach you how to fight, Jack. In a physical fight, at least, you could be a match for a wizard.” She gestured toward the case leaning against the wall. “Shadowslayer is . . . a legendary weapon. We want to make sure that when they come for you they will encounter a more dangerous adversary than the boy in the graveyard.”
Jack thought he’d done all right, under the circumstances. “Who is we? Are you going to teach me how to fight with a sword?” He found that hard to imagine, although at this point nothing would surprise him.
Linda shook her head. “I’ve found a trainer for you. A wizard. Unfortunately, I’m not going to be here.”
“What? You’re leaving?”
“Jack.” She put her hand over his. Power flooded into him like a highly potent drug.
He jerked his hand back as if he’d been scalded. “Don’t try that with me.”
He might as well have slapped her. “All right. No magic. Right now you’re well hidde
n in an Anaweir family with no sorcery about it. I plan to lead Wylie away from you.”
“What do you mean?”
She shook the hair back from her face. “He’ll follow me. He won’t have any choice. He’ll enjoy the chase, but he’ll never catch me.”
Jack thought of the cowboy, screaming under Wylie’s hands, remembered the wizard and what he’d said about unfinished business, and shivered. “Aunt Linda. Please don’t mess with him. Stay away from him.”
“Don’t worry, Jack. I know all about wizards.” From the way she said it, she knew things he didn’t want to know.
“Now, listen to me.” It was like she was going down a checklist. “You need to keep the vest on at all times. It will make it more difficult for them to detect your stone. You must resist the temptation to use your powers except during training. It won’t be easy. But each time you use them, it sends up a signal for unfriendly eyes.” Linda paused. “Take the sword with you. Keep it in its case when you’re not using it. The box will keep it from anyone but the rightful heir.” Linda pulled three glass bottles from her backpack. Jack realized with a start that they were some of the ones Iris had made for him when he was just a baby. The ones for dreams and potions, as the story went.
“Discontinue Dr. Longbranch’s medicine and start taking these.” She handed them over. Jack unstoppered one of the bottles. The aroma struck an almost physical blow. It was potent and intoxicating, like strong liquor. He wrinkled his nose and replaced the stopper. “One teaspoon of each, once a day. You can’t tell your mom or dad about the switch, and you absolutely must not tell Dr. Longbranch, either.”
“Longbranch?” Jack was puzzled. “Isn’t she in on this?”
“Not exactly,” she said. “Don’t trust anyone. Except Nick.”
Which made him think of something else.
“Why’d you get Will and Fitch involved in this? They could have been killed.”
Linda stared down at the table, her cheeks pink with remorse. “I never meant to put them in danger. Sometimes we in the guilds are careless of Anaweir. I had no idea there were wizards around until I spoke to Nick. By then it was too late.” Jack remembered that she had tried to change her mind, and he had resisted. “I planned to leave them at the hotel and go get the sword on our own. I knew they would never say anything . . . if I asked them not to.”
“If you bewitched them, you mean.”
“I don’t apologize for who I am,” she said softly. “I want you to be proud of who you are, also. I know this isn’t easy to hear, but I’m glad I can finally tell you the truth.”
“Really? What’s been stopping you all this time?”
Linda flinched but did not reply. She fished in her jacket pocket and handed over a sealed envelope. “The information about your trainer is in there,” she said. “Do you have any questions?”
He shook his head. He was angry and scared, nerves jittering, the hot blood flowing to muscle and bone. He closed his eyes, remembering the weight of Shadowslayer in his hands.
“Like I said. I can’t tell you everything today. But this is enough to get started.” She looked at her watch. “We’d better go, or your mother will send out a search party.”
Linda threw some money on the table and they left the coffee shop. It was dark now, and Jack could see lights far out over the water. They drove back to Jefferson Street in silence, each occupied with private thoughts. The porch light was on when they pulled up in front of the Swift house. Aunt Linda wouldn’t come in. “Tell Becka thanks for loaning you out this weekend.”
Jack climbed out of the car and pulled his duffle bag out of the backseat. The three glass bottles were tucked safely inside. Linda passed the box with the sword in it through the window. A look passed between them, sympathetic on the one side, angry and rather desperate on the other.
“Keep the phone,” Aunt Linda instructed. “I’ll be in touch.”
“Sure. Fine.” If what she had said was true, then he was in deep trouble, and his aunt was the only lifeline he had. She’d dumped this load on him, and now she was going away. Jack turned to go, but she gripped his arm, pulled him close, and kissed him on the cheek.
Fortunately, Becka didn’t ask many questions. She had legal briefs spread out over the kitchen table. When she saw Jack’s face under the overhead light, she exclaimed, “Oh, no! Did you forget your sunscreen?” He reached up, touched his burned face, and nodded. She asked if he and Linda had found any new relatives, and Jack said, “A couple.” She asked if the road trip was boring after all, and he said, truthfully, “No.” That seemed to satisfy her.
He thought about going out to the garage to talk to Nick, but decided against it. He’d seen enough of wizards for one weekend.
Later, up in his room, Jack stowed the glass bottles in the back of his underwear drawer. He pushed the box with the sword in it under his bed.
The note with the information about his trainer was in his jeans pocket. He tore open the envelope and unfolded the paper inside.
The name on the paper was Leander Hastings. Trinity High School’s new assistant principal.
Chapter Six
Dangerous Games
The next morning, Jack moved his blue bottle of medicine into the upstairs bathroom, along with a measuring spoon. “It’ll be easier to remember if I take it before I brush my teeth,” he explained to Becka. After his shower, he carefully measured out a tablespoon of Longbranch’s medicine and poured it down the sink. Then he carried the potion bottles in from his bedroom. He opened each in turn and swallowed down a measured teaspoon. Two of them were strong-tasting. The third was milder, almost pleasant. He carefully returned the bottles to his drawer. Then he pulled Mercedes’s vest on over his head. He was already feeling vulnerable without it. He wondered if wizards might charge in on him while he had it off, when he was in the shower, say. He followed with a flannel shirt. He still looked like he’d had a bad day in the tanning salon.
The kitchen was empty, but a bowl of cereal waited at his place, along with a note: “Gone to the university. Have a good day. Take your medicine. Love, Mom.”
Jack poured milk over his cereal and sat down to eat. A moment later Will tapped at the kitchen door.
“Come on in,” said Jack. “I’m just finishing.”
Will let himself in. Jack wondered if he should lock the door now that he knew he was being hunted. He sighed.
“Is your aunt gone?” Will asked, looking around as if she might appear at any moment.
“She’s gone.”
“I guess that’s good,” said Will, looking a little wistful nevertheless. “Don’t get me wrong. I like her, but she seems to attract trouble.”
Is it Aunt Linda or me? Jack wondered. He waited for Will to bring up the sword, or the graveyard, or the wizard, but he didn’t.
Instead, he said, “Do you have your soccer gear? If we’re lucky, we might have practice tonight.” Meaning, if they made the team.
“Yeah.” Jack pointed out his gym bag by the door.
“Well, we’d better get going,” said Will. “Penworthy awaits.” He hoisted his book bag to his shoulder and winced.
“You sore, too?” Jack asked.
“Yeah,” Will replied. “Must be from digging up graves.” He grinned. And that was all that was said between them.
Jack was at a loss for how to initiate his training. Was he supposed to approach Leander Hastings at school and say, “I understand you’re supposed to teach me how to be a warrior and use my magic sword. What’s your schedule like?” He wished Aunt Linda had remained to act as go-between. It hardly seemed real, now that she was gone and he was back in school. And Hastings was definitely intimidating.
Aside from his worries, Jack felt great. It was hard to explain. He felt clear and focused, emancipated, as if someone had swept out the old and dusty corners of his soul. He could only assume that Dr. Longbranch’s medicine had a kind of sedative effect.
Once at school, worries about wizards and w
arriors seemed overblown and insubstantial, like a bad dream. Penworthy was at his usual post, but there was no sign of Hastings. Jack and Will had a little time to kill before the first bell, so they walked back to the athletic office to see if the soccer team roster was posted. It was, and Jack, Will, and Fitch had all made varsity. Even better, Garrett Lobeck had been bumped back to JV.
“He’ll be pissed,” Jack predicted, knowing that somehow it would turn out to be his fault, and not really caring. The first practice was scheduled for that afternoon.
There was still no sign of Hastings when they walked back to their classrooms. Maybe it’d be best to wait a few days and see if the assistant principal contacted him.
After school, Jack and Will carried their gym bags into the boys’ locker room to change for practice. The day was cold, so they pulled sweatpants over their shin guards and socks. Jack glanced around before he took off his flannel shirt. It was still early, and he and Will were the only ones in the locker room. Jack slid a long-sleeved T-shirt over his vest.
Will was looking on curiously. “Expecting trouble?” he asked.
“You never know,” Jack replied.
As they assembled on the practice field, the players slapped hands, grinning, happy to have made either team, given the competition. The notable exception was Garrett Lobeck, who, of course, had expected to play varsity. His friends Harkness and Leonard had made the first team. Lobeck looked like an assault waiting to happen, but for once he was heckling some other player. No doubt he was gun-shy after their previous encounter. Which was fine with Jack.
After fifteen minutes of warm-ups, Jack found he wasn’t even breathing hard. I must be in better shape than I thought, he told himself. Then they started a scrimmage game between the varsity and JV teams.
The varsity team scored first, but after that the JV team managed to keep them from scoring until the five-minute quarter was called. Jack played midfielder during the second quarter. His team took possession near the JV goal, and one of the fullbacks passed the ball to Jack. Jack began to dribble it down the field, dodging effortlessly around defenders. As he approached the goal, the JV players parted before him as if they couldn’t get out of his way fast enough. He took his shot from just outside the box. The goalie practically jumped out of the way, and the shot sizzled in. The varsity team cheered. Will and Fitch slapped him high fives.
The Heir Chronicles: Books I-III Page 11