The Wizard Heir

by Cinda Williams Chima

  She pushed open the car door and slipped out into the darkness.

  The next morning, Seph was awakened by a tapping at his bedroom door. He pulled on his shorts and went to open it. It was Linda. “Let’s go get some breakfast,” she suggested.

  Seph shrugged. “Okay.” She had dark circles under her eyes, as though she hadn’t slept well. He wondered why. He’d been sleeping better and better as the summer progressed and memories of the Havens faded.

  He pulled his T-shirt over his head and picked up his flip-flops, padding downstairs barefoot. They slipped out of the back door, and he sat down on the stoop to put on his shoes. He could tell it was going to be another hot day, but the morning was still and cool and fragrant with the scent of the hydrangeas that crowded the foundation of the house.

  They stopped at a coffee shop down by the university and picked up bagels, juice, and coffee, and then drove to the beach. It was nearly deserted, save a few early-morning walkers, and the snack bar sat silent at the top of the cliff. They picked their way down the ancient stairway to the sand and walked out to the end of the pier. There they sat down, took off their shoes, and dangled their feet over the water. Sea gulls wheeled over their heads, hoping for a handout. Way off to their right, the sun gleamed over the horizon, turning the tops of the waves to gold. The air carried with it the scent of Canada, fresh and clean, across the water.

  He thought about Toronto, far to the north and east. He wondered who was living in his old house now, if they still took in guests, if they’d kept the big commercial range and the tiny-print wallpaper.

  “How do you like it here in Trinity?” Linda said finally.

  “Well,” Seph said. “I never thought I’d like living in a small town, but I do. Mercedes and Blaise and the other neighbors mind your business too much, but I like them. Jack and Ellen are really cool. They take me with them when they go out with their friends, and I’ve been meeting a lot of people. At the beach,” he added, thinking of Madison. “Nick is awesome.”

  Linda gave a quick nod, as if satisfied. “I’m wondering about school in the fall.” She gazed down at the water percolating around the rocks.

  “I’m sure I’ll be okay, wherever I go,” Seph said. “Now that I have more training.”

  “Do you always have to be so damn agreeable about everything?”

  Seph said nothing. He couldn’t recall anyone applying that particular term to him before.

  “What would you think about going to school here in Trinity?”

  He looked up, startled. “That’d be okay. Sure.” His only contacts with the Wizard Guild were Leander Hastings and Gregory Leicester. And his connection with Hastings ran right through Trinity. “But . . . how could I? I can’t stay with Becka forever.”

  “You probably could. Becka is absolutely taken with you, Seph.” She paused. “I could get a house here, too. I can’t promise to spend all my time in Trinity, but you could stay with me when I’m here and with Becka when I’m not.”

  Seph couldn’t hide his surprise. He’d had the impression Linda never stayed in one place for long, never even wanted to say how long she would stay when she visited. He’d been thinking she might be ready to get back to London, that only her concern for him was keeping her in Trinity.

  “That’d work. Only . . .” He paused, and then rushed ahead. “I’m going to have to leave the Sanctuary one of these days. I like it here, but I don’t want to be a prisoner. I’m used to big cities, and I haven’t been anywhere all summer. Don’t you think it’s safe now?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, looking out at the water as if she might find answers in the waves. “I’ll feel better when the year is over. Maybe you could go to school here this year, and then we’ll see.” She brushed bagel crumbs off her lap and clasped her hands together. “I’ve been wondering how you’re doing. I mean, if you’ve been able to . . . come to grips with what happened at school last year. If . . . you’d like to talk about it.”

  He looked straight at Linda and said, “I’m doing the best I can.” And that was God’s truth.

  She backed off. “Okay. I’ll register you at the high school and we’ll see how it goes.”

  Seph smiled. He had never had the chance to participate in this kind of decision making before, and he liked it. “Fine with me,” he said.

  “And, Seph, one more thing.” He looked up. “Be careful with Leander Hastings.”

  “What do you mean?” He remembered Linda and Hastings walking out together the night before, and wondered what they’d talked about.

  “He and his allies have done a lot to keep people like Gregory Leicester in check. He’s always focused on the big picture. But sometimes he runs over innocent people on his way.”

  “He said he has the reputation of being careless with the lives of children,” Seph said. “What did he mean?”

  “Oh, he told you that? But he didn’t explain it, of course. Last year, in the tournament, he was Jack’s sponsor in the Game.” Linda sipped at her coffee. “Leander talked him into fighting. In the end, it turned out well. But he’s a gambler. He takes chances with other people’s lives.” Linda put her hand under Seph’s chin and turned his face so she could look him in the eyes. “You could be next.”

  “Oh, I don’t think so,” Seph said. “He didn’t seem too interested in me.”

  Linda shook her head. “You’re wrong. You don’t know him like I do. Just remember what I said.”

  Later, during his wizardry lesson, Seph had a question for Nick. “Why does Linda Downey dislike Leander Hastings so much?”

  The wizard glanced up at him sharply. “What gives you that idea?” They were sitting in the kitchen of Nick’s apartment. A large floor fan whirred at their feet. “She warned me to watch out for him. She doesn’t trust him.”

  Nick sighed. “Linda’s feelings for Leander are complex. She doesn’t entirely trust him, that is true.” He paused, as if considering how much to share. “Linda and Leander were—ah—involved years ago.”

  “What?” Seph looked up at his teacher in surprise. “You wouldn’t know it.”

  “Well, yes, Seph, you would know it, if you were older and just a bit wiser. Their past makes it difficult for them to deal with each other in the present.”

  Seph remembered the tension between the wizard and the enchanter, the spark and energy. He thought about Linda’s warning. “Is Hastings a bad man?”

  “No, I wouldn’t say he’s a bad man. He is one of those wizards who has improved with age. He was quite dangerous and impulsive when he was young. Still dangerous, I suppose.” Nick fell silent for a moment, frowning at some old memory. “Leander’s father was a wizard and his mother Anaweir. His older sister, Carrie, was a warrior. The family did its best to keep her out of the tournaments, but the Roses eventually tracked her down and she was killed. His father died defending her. His mother was never the same. Leander was ten at the time.

  “By the time he was your age, he was already fighting a personal war against the wizard-dominated hierarchy and the tournament system. He has never been afraid of a fight. Never afraid of dying, either.”

  “But . . . if Aunt Linda and Mr. Hastings agree about the tournaments and all?” Seph persisted, wanting to understand.

  Nick smiled. “These are difficult times. Linda and Leander may agree about the ends, but often disagree about the means.” He put his hand on Seph’s shoulder. “They are both very powerful people in their own way. They will pull you, Seph, whether you like it or not. Eventually, you’ll have to decide for yourself.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  A Picnic on the River

  Seph saw no more of Leander Hastings, reinforcing his belief that the wizard had no particular interest in him. The next day was Thursday, Madison’s day off; the day of the picnic. She said she knew of a good place, and she was the one with the car. She suggested he bring his swimming gear, so he assumed it would be somewhere up on the lake.

  The house had emptied ou
t early. Jack had gone to play soccer with Will and Harmon, trying to beat the heat of the day. Becka was in court, and Linda was actually out looking at real estate.

  Seph was just loading the cooler when Madison tapped on the screen door. “Come on in,” he said. “I’m just about ready.”

  She wore a green tie-dyed sundress over her bathing suit, a wide-brimmed hat, and sandals. Her glittering hair was partly braided and beaded, partly hanging free, like rivulets down her back.

  “This is a great neighborhood,” she said. “I’d like to paint this entire street. It’s like a whole shelf of wedding cakes, each fancier than the last.” She looked around the kitchen, at Seph’s bags and parcels. “Who else did you invite?” she asked in amazement.

  She helped him carry it all out to her old pickup. They loaded the food into the back, under a tarp.

  “Do you come from a big family, that you live in such a big house?” she asked.

  He shook his head, sliding into the passenger side and buckling his seat belt. “There’s just me. Like I told you, that’s Becka’s house. I’m staying here for the summer, at least.”

  She turned left on Jefferson, toward downtown, ramming up through the manual gears. Seph liked that she drove stick shift. “What are you, a senior?” she asked.

  He nodded. “Will be. What about you?”

  “I’ll be a senior, too. But I’m going to be taking classes at Trinity in the fall. At the Art Institute.” She ducked her head away as she said it, as if he might question her right to be there.

  “Wow. Congratulations. I hear it’s hard to get in. But how do you take classes at the college if you’re still in high school?”

  “I’ll be there as a post-secondary student. Here in Ohio, you can take college classes for free while you’re still in high school. The school district pays for it.” Madison’s cheeks went pink as she warmed to her subject. “My art teacher at Coal Grove High School set it up. She said I’d really improve with the right teacher, and I can get col-lege credit without having to pay for it. I’m going to be living with my cousin and working at the inn, so . . .” She shrugged self-consciously, and Seph realized she must be nervous about fitting in as a high school student at an elite private school like Trinity College.

  “Becka teaches English lit at Trinity. I’ve sat in on a few of her lectures. The students seem really laid back. I bet you’ll like it there.” After his years of attending prep schools, Seph had been surprised at the way the students dressed at Trinity: flannel shirts and sweatshirts and jeans in cool weather, T-shirts and shorts in the summer.

  He was so engaged in the conversation with Madison that he didn’t realize they were heading south instead of north, until they reached the highway interchange. As they accelerated onto the highway, Seph sat up straighter, looking out the window, fighting off a sense of foreboding. “I didn’t realize we were going out of town,” he said.

  Madison nodded. “Uh-huh. There’s this really cool nature preserve on the Vermilion River. In Huron County. It’s not far.” She was looking at him a little strangely.

  “Oh.” It’s all right, he told himself. No need to make a scene. He hadn’t seen a strange wizard all summer. There was no way the alumni could be waiting at the city limits to intercept him, watching all the routes out of town. Besides, he was unlikely to be spotted riding in an unfamiliar car.

  They passed the city limits without incident. The park was about a half hour away. It was remote, thickly wooded, embraced by a great loop of the river gorge, and embroidered by rocky streams that flowed into the river. The parking lot was empty.

  “How’d you find this place?” Seph asked, hoisting the cooler onto his shoulder.

  “I’ve been here fishing a couple of times.” She grinned. “Fishing’s an excuse to sit by the water and do nothing. Perfect.” They hiked upstream a short distance to a little meadow, shaded by tall trees and bordered by little umbrella plants that Madison called May apples. They spread a quilt and Seph laid out the food.

  It was a hot day, but it was cool under the trees along the water. This is fine, Seph told himself when he’d finally eaten enough. He looked over at Madison and smiled. More than fine.

  Madison took off her hat and set it aside, groped in her tote and pulled out her sketchbook and charcoals. “You ruined my other drawings, so you have to sit again.”

  Seph scooted closer to her. “I already cooked for you. You mean I have to sit for you, too?” He cupped her chin in his hands, pulled her toward him, and kissed her. She tasted of brown sugar and butter, and her hair smelled of citrus and lavender. Sunlight rippled over the quilt while the trees moved overhead, as if they were underwater.

  “Madison,” he whispered.

  “My friends call me Maddie.” She extricated herself from his embrace. Pulling her sketchbook onto her lap, she pointed with her chin to the riverbank.

  “You. Sit over there.”

  Grumbling under his breath, Seph rose and took his place among the rocks at the river’s edge while Madison issued orders. “Half turn. Tilt your head to the left. Right leg straight. Stop scowling.”

  Seph thought she’d done fine in the past, sketching him without his cooperation. He posed for an hour in the dappled shade, with the Vermilion River sluicing about his feet, before she relented and suggested they go wading in the river.

  They loaded the picnic gear back in the truck, then walked about a mile and a half downstream to the gorge. Seph stripped off his shirt and Madison her sundress, and they left them high on the riverbank. The water was cold, but refreshing in the afternoon heat. It was very clear, unlike the cove at the Havens. Seph turned over rocks, disturbing salamanders and crayfish, catching them in his cupped hands. He hadn’t realized there were tiny lobsters in Ohio. Then the two of them sat in the shallows, letting the river roll over them.

  “Do you have brothers and sisters?” Seph asked.

  “I have a little brother, John Robert. And a younger sister, Grace.” She spoke about them with a fierce affection, as if they needed defending.

  “Your parents were okay with you coming up here on your own?”

  “There’s just Carlene. My mom. She wasn’t too thrilled about it, mainly since I’m the babysitter. But I can make more money working for Rachel than anywhere in Coalton County. And Rachel watches me closer than Carlene ever has.”

  “So,” Seph said, trying to understand. “At home. Do you live on a ...a farm?”

  “I live on Booker Mountain. My family’s been there since before Ohio was a state. It’s a beautiful place, but I’m afraid it’s not much of a farm unless you want to grow rocks.” She skipped a stone across the river so it landed on the opposite bank. “I guess you’ve lived all over.”

  “I guess.”

  “What’s Europe like?” She rolled her eyes. “I suppose that’s like asking what’s the ocean like.”

  “Yeah.” He thought a moment. “There’s less room in Europe. It seems like everything’s packed together compared to Canada or the U.S. But you have to pay closer attention. It’s layered. Like a tapestry woven with lots of colors and very small stitches. Or . . . or an Impressionist painting,” he added, pleased to have come up with examples from art.

  “Have you been to the Musée d’Orsay? In Paris?” She studied him like he was an exotic species.

  He nodded. “It’s a feast, if you like the Impressionists.”

  “I’m going there some day,” she said with conviction. “I’m going to visit every gallery in Paris and every church in Florence. And eat gelato every day.”

  When they were numb and shivering, they climbed out onto the rocks and sunned themselves like turtles. Madison ran her fingers over the dyrne sefa that hung around Seph’s neck. “What’s this?”

  “A friend at school gave it to me,” Seph replied. “I guess you could say it enhances magic. It lets the gifted do things they couldn’t otherwise.” The memory of Jason brought pain, as it always did, but just then the Havens seemed far awa
y. “You mentioned that you’d met . . . witches at home.”

  “Well, there’s a strong tradition of magic around there. The folks that settled that area came from Ireland, England, and Wales. My grandmother was a reader and adviser. People used to come to her to have their fortunes read.” She fell silent for a moment, as if lost in a memory.

  A seer, Seph thought. “Were there also wizards in Coalton County?”

  She considered this a moment. “There are people with auras. Like you. People with power. Trinity’s full of them. What kind of power, I couldn’t tell you. And I’d guess most of them don’t know they have it.”

  “Were there others like you?”

  She laughed. “It’d be pretty hard to tell. I don’t have an aura and I don’t have magic. I just kind of swallow it up.”

  When they were sunbaked and drowsy, they pulled their dry clothes on.

  The shadows were deeper than before when they headed back. They followed a path upstream along the riverbank until they reached a place where the sides of the ravine swept steeply up on either side, forcing them back into the river. Seph had just taken Maddie’s hand to help her across some slippery stones, when he looked up and saw someone standing in the riverbed ahead, between them and the sun. The contrast between light and shadow made it difficult to see, but there was something familiar about the silhouette. When Seph shaded his eyes against the light he saw that it was Warren Barber. And behind him, Kenyon King, from the Havens.

  Madison stepped up even with Seph, and looked curiously at Barber, who was standing, smiling, right in their path.

  “Hello, Joseph,” Barber said. His voice was marbled with sorcery, meant to sedate and cloud the mind.

  Seph looked around. On either side, the banks were too steep to climb. Behind them, two more wizards were picking their way down the riverbed. Bruce Hays, and Aaron Hanlon, who taught social studies.