“Great. Thank you.” Seph turned to Jack. “Um . . . where did you learn to use a sword like that?”
“My teacher was a wizard named Leander Hastings,” Jack replied. “He specializes in training warriors. He taught me how to fight.”
Hastings. “Does he live in Trinity?” Seph asked.
“No.” Linda answered for Jack.
“I’d love to learn how to fight like that,” Seph said.
Linda put a hand on his arm. “Seph, you’re not a warrior, you know.”
“Most wizards can get what they want without fighting anybody,” Jack said. He looked at his watch and shoved back from the table. “I’d better get home. I’ve got exams tomorrow.”
“What are you two going to do?” Ellen asked.
“We’ll stay at Jack’s,” Linda said.
“Shouldn’t we call first or something?” Seph looked from Linda to Jack.
Jack shook his head. “My mom’s used to Aunt Linda showing up unexpectedly. If she didn’t show up unannounced, she’d never show up at all.”
“Don’t worry, Seph,” Linda said. “Believe me, she won’t have a problem.”
When they returned to the car, Jack slid behind the wheel this time, shoving the seat back to accommodate his long legs. Snowbeard sat next to him, and the others climbed in back.
“Snowbeard lives in an apartment over Jack’s garage,” Linda explained. “He’s kind of a part-time caretaker. He was Jack’s wizardry teacher, too. He’s been with Jack since he was a baby.”
“If wizards don’t need to learn how to fight, what does a warrior need with a wizardry teacher?” Seph asked.
“I guess you could say I’m kind of a mongrel,” Jack said, rolling his eyes. “A wizard with a warrior’s stone. Or a warrior with a wizard’s body.”
Another long story, apparently.
Jack and Ellen lived two doors apart on Jefferson, a brick street lined with tall shade trees and huge old homes set back on big, informal lawns. They dropped Ellen off first. The Subaru coasted to the curb, and Ellen climbed out and retrieved her sword from the trunk. A shadow detached itself from the darkness on the front porch of the house and came toward them.
“Hey, Will,” Jack called. “Waiting up for Ellen?”
“Hey, Jack.” Will leaned into the passenger window. “When I see Ellen charging out of the house with a big smile on her face, carrying her sword, I know it means trouble.” He was built like a football player, maybe a lineman. He had close-cropped dark hair and wore cutoffs and a tank top.
“Aunt Linda!” Will had spotted her in the backseat. “I should’ve known. There must be sorcery afoot!”
“Hi, Will,” Linda said.
“This is Seph McCauley,” Linda went on, resting a hand on Seph’s shoulder. “He’s going to be staying at Jack’s this summer.” She said it as if it were a done deal. “Seph, this is Will Childers, a friend of Jack’s. I’m not really his aunt. Jack’s friends just call me that. Ellen moved in with him and his parents last year after Raven’s Ghyll.”
Okay, Seph thought. Maybe that’s the way it is in small towns, everyone related to everyone else, living in each other’s houses. Maybe Trinity is just one big commune. He would try to relax and go with it.
“Good to meet you, Seph,” Will was saying. “See you tomorrow, Jack. I’ll be by around seven.” Will and Ellen walked back toward the house.
They drove past two more houses and pulled into a gravel driveway. Circling around to the back of a hulking Victorian house, they jolted to a stop in front of an old, detached garage. Jack shut off the ignition. Linda turned to Seph.
“Jack’s mom—my sister—is Anaweir. She doesn’t know anything about this wizard and warrior business. Okay?”
Seph nodded. “Got it.”
Jack retrieved his sword from the trunk. Snowbeard said good night and slowly mounted a staircase to the second floor of the garage. A moment later, a light kindled in the upstairs window. Linda and Seph followed Jack up the wooden steps to the back door of the house, sliding between two overgrown hydrangea bushes.
We must look pretty scary, Seph realized, suddenly self-conscious. Though his arm looked much better than it had, Jack was all muddy and grass stained, and Seph looked like he’d been on the losing side of a fight. His change of clothes was still in the BMW.
A narrow back staircase ascended into darkness just inside the back door. Jack put his finger to his lips and disappeared up the steps, returning empty-handed and without the baldric. Then he called, “Mom! Are you presentable? I brought guests!”
“I’m in the study,” a woman replied. “Is it anyone I know?”
“Yes and no.” Linda and Seph followed Jack into the kitchen. It was huge, with a ceramic tile floor and a large farm-style dining table. Takeout containers crowded the counter next to the sink, unwashed dishes stacked next to them.
A tall, strawberry-blond woman entered the room carrying a coffee mug. It was clear where Jack got his coloring. She wore faded blue jeans and sturdy, hippie sandals, a sweatshirt carrying the slogan BREAD AND ROSES. Hers was the kind of beauty that pretty turns into: fresh-scrubbed and straightforward.
“Hi, Becka,” Linda said.
“Linda! When did you get to town?” Becka embraced the enchanter, leaning down to deliver a quick, fierce hug. “How long can you stay?”
Linda looked over at Seph. “I’m not sure.”
“Why do I bother asking? That’s always your answer.” She turned to Jack. “Jack, where have you been? You know you have exams tomorrow.”
“He was with me,” Linda said. “Sorry.”
Becka finally noticed Seph, still hesitating in the kitchen doorway. “Oh!” she said, her hand flying to her mouth as she took in the evidence of his recent beating. Then she smiled and came toward him, extending her hands. “Hello. I’m Becka Downey.”
“I’m Seph McCauley,” he said. “Pleased to meet you.” He extended his hand, and she took it in both of hers and held on to it for a minute. There was something reassuring about the gesture, as if she were already on his side. And blessedly, she did not ask questions. About his face, at least.
“Have you eaten?” Becka looked over her shoulder at the debris on the counter.
“Oh, yes, plenty,” Seph said, feeling awkward again.
“Then I’ll get you something to drink, at least. I have some soda down cellar.”
“I’ll go with you,” Linda offered. Both sisters disappeared down the stairs.
“You might as well sit down,” Jack said wryly, pointing to the chairs gathered around the table. Seph sat. Jack pulled four glasses down out of the cabinet and filled them with ice, then carried them carefully to the table. He turned a chair around and straddled it, resting his arms on the back and gazing at Seph. There was an awkward silence.
“Is it just you and your mom?” Seph asked.
Jack nodded. “My dad lives in Boston. They’re divorced. I think when they bought the house they thought they’d be here forever.” He rubbed his chin. “Where are you from?”
“Mostly Toronto,” Seph said automatically. “But I’ve moved around a lot.” He was suddenly very tired.
“What are you, a junior?”
Seph nodded.
“Aunt Linda said your parents are dead?” “She did.” Seph ignored the implied question, which he couldn’t answer, anyway. But fortunately, just at that moment, Becka and Linda emerged from the cellar with bottles of old-fashioned root beer, glistening with condensation. They lined them up on the counter and opened them. As Becka set a soda in front of Seph, she smiled at him and rested a hand on his shoulder. Seph wondered what they’d been talking about downstairs. He didn’t have to wait long to find out.
“Seph, Linda says you could use a place to stay this summer. Jack and I would love to have you here. It’ll give us an excuse to finish the wallpapering in the third-floor room.”
Seph felt blood rush to his face. “Really, I—”
Becka pl
owed on undeterred. “It’ll be great. We’ll get to see more of Linda, since I know she wants to spend some time with you. And Jack can introduce you to his friends.”
Seph glanced at Jack, who probably knew better than to object. “I don’t really want to impose....”
“If it would make you feel better, you can help Nick with the wallpapering. There’s always plenty of work to do around here. Please say you’ll stay.”
Wordless, Seph nodded. Jack’s mother was hard to refuse.
“Then it’s all settled.” She smiled at Seph. “Why don’t you bring in your things?”
Seph looked at Linda for help. She jumped in quickly. “We don’t have much, because we . . . ah . . . were in a hurry. We’ll get you some clothes tomorrow, Seph.”
“I bet some of Jack’s old clothes will fit him,” Becka suggested. “The ones from before that growth spurt last year.” She laughed. “We have clothes in three sizes upstairs. They’re scarcely broken in.”
They changed the subject. Linda asked about Becka’s work, and people Seph had never heard of. Their voices gradually faded to a kind of buzzing sound. Seph opened his eyes to find everyone staring at him. He’d actually fallen asleep at the table. “Sorry,” he whispered, mortified. “It’s not that you’re boring. Really.”
They all laughed. “Jack, why don’t you show Seph upstairs and help him make up his bed?” Becka suggested. “And you need to get to bed also. I hope you found time to study before your aunt came.”
Jack carried his glass to the sink, then nodded toward the back staircase. They climbed the narrow stairway to a landing on the second floor. Jack scooped up an armload of sheets and towels from a linen closet in the hall, and they ascended another flight of stairs to the third floor.
There were four rooms on the third floor, three of which were crammed floor to ceiling with old furniture, filing cabinets, and boxes of books. The largest room was sparsely furnished with a double bed, bookcase, and dresser. One and a half walls were papered in a William Morris print. More rolls of paper and a wetting tray leaned against the wall. There was a bathroom off to one side. The bed was stripped, and everything was covered with a fine layer of dust. It was suffocatingly hot and stuffy.
“I planned to move up here if it ever got finished,” Jack explained. “Maybe now it’ll finally happen. I hope you’re not allergic to dust.” He dropped the linens on the bed and muscled one of the windows open while Seph went to work on the other, which seemed to be painted shut. With the windows open, a cool breeze carried in the soft sounds of the summer night.
Jack and Seph rolled back the comforter and laid the sheet over the pad. Seph worked quickly and efficiently, despite being half asleep. He’d made a thousand beds in his lifetime.
“Look,” he said to Jack as he crafted a perfect corner. “I’m sorry about moving in on you like this.” He couldn’t seem to remember that wizards never say they are sorry.
Jack finished up his side too, less expertly. “It’s okay. Really. I don’t mean to be rude. I just need to get used to the idea. I guess you’d say I’ve had a lot of trouble with wizards.” He straightened and looked across the bed at Seph. “So you and Aunt Linda have known each other for a long time.” There was a question hidden in the statement.
“I met her for the first time yesterday,” Seph replied. “She said she’s been my guardian for years, but it was news to me.”
Jack frowned. “Yeah, well . . .” his voice trailed off. “I’m sure there’s a good explanation.”
“I guess.” Seph shrugged. “Is it true you used to go out with Alicia Middleton?”
“What?” Jack straightened, almost bumping his head against the ceiling.
“Nothing. I ran into her in Toronto is all. She mentioned your name.” He raised an eyebrow. “She seemed like bad news to me.”
Jack stared at Seph. Then shook his head. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on, either. But I’ll tell you this: I had the year from hell two years ago. It started with Leesha and ended with the tournament at Raven’s Ghyll. Ellen was the only good thing that came out of it. That and the establishment of the Sanctuary.”
He leaned on the bedframe, and the muscles stood out along his arms. “This past year has been nice and quiet. In Trinity, at least. I don’t know how long it’ll last, but I just hope you’re not the one to mess it up.” He smiled, as if to take the edge off, but his blue eyes were cold and direct. “I’ll get you some shorts to sleep in.”
When Jack came back up the stairs with an armload of clothes, Seph was already fast asleep on top of the comforter.
Chapter Eleven
The Sanctuary
When Seph awoke, the sun was sliding through the branches, dappling everything in the room. It took him a moment to remember where he was. It had been a long time since he’d slept so long or so soundly. He was still lying on top of the comforter.
A pile of clothes lay heaped at the foot of the bed. He found a toothbrush and towels and soap in his bathroom, and it was obvious that someone had cleaned in there. He washed his face carefully. The swelling in his lip had gone down, but the rest still looked pretty bad, having gone from red and purple to purple and yellow. What he really wanted to do was take a long, hot bath. Instead, he tried on clothes until he found a workable pair of jeans. He pulled on a T-shirt that said TRINITY SOCCER and walked downstairs.
The house had emptied out while he was asleep. Dirty coffee cups and glasses sat in the sink, boxes of cereal on the counter, and a newspaper lay spread out on the table. He poured himself some juice.
“Seph, is that you?” Linda appeared in the doorway, barefoot, wearing jeans and a tank top. She didn’t look much older than Seph. “We’re on the porch.”
Seph walked out onto the screened porch. The stone floor was cool under Seph’s bare feet. Linda and Nick Snowbeard were sitting in two wicker chairs. Linda had a mug of tea in front of her on the glass table.
“Hi.” Seph paused. He still hadn’t figured out what he should call Linda Downey. She noticed his hesitation.
“Why don’t you call me Aunt Linda,” she suggested. “Everybody else does. I guess I’m a pretty good aunt,” she added, as if reassuring herself.
Seph set his juice on the table, and drew up a chair.
“Where is everybody?” he asked.
“Jack’s at school. Becka’s at the university.” Linda drew her feet up under her and settled the mug of tea onto her lap. “So it’s just us.”
Seph took a sip of juice. His lips and tongue still felt swollen and clumsy. “What did you tell your sister about me?”
“I told her you were hiding from an abusive family. Your parents beat you, and I was unable to get you removed from the home, so I spirited you away.”
“Isn’t that illegal?” Seth asked.
“Becka doesn’t always play by the rules. She has a soft heart for children in trouble. I knew she would take you in.”
“I finally get a family, and they beat me up.” Seph looked at Linda out of the corner of his eye. “Well. If I’m going to be here all summer, I’d like to find some kind of part-time job.”
She frowned. “If you need money, I’ll . . .”
“I’m used to working. I’d like to earn my spending money, at least.” Seph wanted a source of income that didn’t go through Linda Downey. That wouldn’t involve questions and explanations and contacting Sloane’s.
“Maybe he could work for Harold Fry,” Nick suggested. “Jack’s crewing for him this summer, so he might need someone at dockside and in the office.”
“Who’s Harold Fry?” Seph asked.
“He runs fishing charters to the western basin of Lake Erie,” Nick explained. “He’s one of my chess partners. I could put in a word.”
“Could you? I don’t know much about fishing, but I’m willing to learn. Thanks.” Seph was pleased the old wizard was willing to help him. He turned back to Linda and continued his gentle interrogation. “So Jack was the warrior who fought i
n the famous tournament at Raven’s Ghyll.”
“It was Jack and Ellen Stephenson.”
“Jack and Ellen fought each other? Aren’t those tournaments to the death?”
“Well, they refused to go along with killing each other. That started it all.” She smiled wryly at the expression on Seph’s face, then went on, “The Judges of the Field made the mistake of trying to amend the rules during the tournament, the first time they’d been opened in nearly a thousand years. They didn’t realize that breaking the Covenant made them vulnerable. They were forced to make other changes as well. The old rules codified the rule of wizards over the Weir. Warriors, enchanters, and sorcerers may be powerful relative to the Anaweir, but we have always been at the mercy of wizards, treated as playthings, gladiators, and slaves.
“The new rules do away with the old hierarchy and require the participation of all of the guilds in decision making.” She shrugged. “That’s why there’s so much turmoil. No one’s sure how to implement that. There’s considerable mistrust among the guilds. The other Weir aren’t eager to sit down in a room with a bunch of wiz-ards. They would be in fear of their lives.”
“Not all wizards are like that,” Seph pointed out.
Linda nodded. “Particularly here in America, families are mixed. Jack is a warrior; I’m an enchanter. Leander Hastings is a wizard; his sister was a warrior. There are many wizards like Hastings who hate the old system. They would like to make the new system work.”
Seph pushed his cereal bowl away and settled back in the wicker chair. “How do Jack and Ellen get along now?”
“Oh, they fight all the time. On and off the field.” Linda laughed. “Warriors in love.”
Seph digested that for a moment, then decided to change the subject. He turned to Snowbeard. “When can I start training? I’ve already done a lot of reading.” He thought of the library at the Havens, all those rows of ancient books.
Snowbeard’s eyes flicked briefly to Linda. She nodded reluctantly.
“Is there a Weirbook we could use?” the wizard asked. Another exchange of meaningful glances between Linda and Snowbeard.
The Heir Chronicles: Books I-III Page 52