The Wizard Heir

by Cinda Williams Chima

  “Believe me, it hasn’t been the most exciting duty, up until today. Seph goes to church. Seph goes to the symphony. Seph gets hit on by girls at the beach.” Ellen nibbled at a broken nail. “This afternoon, I felt like some kind of chaperone, following you and your girlfriend around. So I dropped way back. Guess I shouldn’t have.”

  “Maybe they could’ve seen you if you’d been closer.”

  “Maybe. Look, I’m sorry about your . . . ah . . . date.”

  “You saved my life. Thank you.” Seph was glad that it was Ellen and not Jack. “You’ve always treated me like I’m not, you know, the enemy.”

  Ellen finished tweezing bits of gravel from her skinned knees, and picked up the washcloth. “We have a lot in common, you know,” she said, bending her head over her work. “I never knew my parents, either. I was raised for the tournaments by wizards of the Red Rose.”

  “Did they have some kind of warrior school?” he asked.

  She snorted. “There aren’t enough of us left to fill a school. I had a warriormaster—a wizard who specializes in training warriors. What you might call the coach from hell. We were constantly on the move, being hunted by the White Rose. So I’ve always been the stranger. New kid at school. Kind of like you.” She shook back her shining helmet of hair, as likely to seek sympathy as any leopard.

  “So how’d you meet Jack?”

  “The Red Rose wizards learned that the White Rose had a warrior hidden away in Trinity. So I came here to kill him.” She said this matter-of-factly. “Only, I didn’t know who to kill, and he didn’t know who I was. He sat behind me in homeroom, of all things. He was . . . you know ... I saw him and I went, whoa! I guess I had this major crush. I’d never gone out with anyone, really. He’d just broken up with that . . . that Alicia Middleton.” Her inflection gave the name another meaning. “I’m not—you know—good with people. And he was, like, Mr. Popular. But we kind of clicked, and one thing led to another....” The color had come up into Ellen’s cheeks.

  “When did you figure it out?”

  “Jack gave himself away in a street fight before we left Trinity. He didn’t figure out who I was until we met on the field at Raven’s Ghyll.” She grinned. “I’ll never forget the look on his face.” She carried the basin of soapy water to the sink and dumped it out.

  “Well, I don’t think he likes me much.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t say that. Jack’s just less open than he used to be, before Raven’s Ghyll. It takes longer to win him over.” She sat down across from Seph again.

  “I mean, here he was, living this storybook life in Trinity. And then, in the space of a few months, he finds out that everyone he knows is someone else entirely. His surgeon is a wizard who turned him into a magical freak. His aunt is an enchanter with a past. The old caretaker who lives over the garage is his four-hundred-year-old wizard bodyguard. His former girlfriend is a treacherous, bottom-feeding, double-crossing trader who’s had him under a spell.”

  Seph bit the insides of his cheeks to keep from laughing.

  “Even his warriormaster, Hastings, has a secret plan— to play him in the Game and win dominion over the Wizard Houses. Jack goes to the tournament and finds out his opponent is the girl he’s been going out with, who, by the way, came to Trinity to assassinate him.”

  Seph shook his head, rendered speechless.

  “Yet despite all that, I’ve never met anyone who was so . . . so pure. I don’t mean he’s a saint or anything,” she added quickly, rolling her eyes. “He just . . . knows who he is and what he believes in. He doesn’t change his story day to day and week to week. He’s the one you want to have next to you when the bad thing goes down.”

  Seph wished he had the same certainty, the same sense of trajectory. He’d lost something important at the river. Something he hadn’t realized was his to lose: a growing sense of security.

  He’d left the Havens with the intention of taking revenge on Gregory Leicester, but he’d allowed himself to be seduced by the magic of a midwestern college town. Leicester had warned him not to talk, and, for the most part, he hadn’t.

  Leicester wouldn’t give up. It was only a matter of time before he tried again.

  Unless Seph got to him first.

  “So what did those guys want?” Ellen asked. “You never said.”

  “They said they came to take me back to school.”

  “I don’t get it,” Ellen admitted. “Do you think they’ve been stalking you all this time? Why?”

  “I don’t think even the alumni know,” Seph said.

  “The what?”

  “The alumni. The ones who attacked us today. They used to go to school at the Havens; now they work for Dr. Leicester. I don’t think they have a clue why he wants me.” He took a breath. “But Aunt Linda does.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I think Aunt Linda knows why they’re after me. That’s why she has you all watching me every day.” He tossed the ice pack from hand to hand. “I don’t suppose what happened today could be kept just between us?”

  “No way. Are you crazy?” Ellen stretched out her long legs. “Come on, Seph. You’re in danger, and you need help. Don’t you think Linda deserves to know her instincts were right?” She looked sheepish. “For weeks, we’ve been trying to convince her that she was being paranoid and tailing you wasn’t necessary.”

  “I already feel like a prisoner,” Seph said. “It’ll only get worse if she finds out what happened. Follow me around all you want. I promise I won’t leave Trinity. I won’t put you in danger again. You could’ve been killed today, too.” He reached over and closed his hand over hers, looked her in the eyes. “Ellen. Please don’t tell.”

  Her eyes widened and she tried to withdraw her hand. “Hey!”

  He increased the gentle pressure, the flow of persuasion, feeling guilty as he did so. Finally she nodded. “Okay. Our secret.” And Seph smiled, satisfied.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The Wizard Council

  Linda Downey was in town only intermittently over the following two weeks. She seemed distracted, a bundle of nerves. Maybe it’s the idea of being tied down, Seph thought. She’d closed on a house on Washington Street, one block north of Jefferson, overlooking the lake. It was a small Victorian, a former summer cottage that needed considerable work. She stayed in town long enough to hire a squadron of contractors, then put Seph in charge of supervising them. “You’re good at this kind of thing,” she said. “Pick out some paint and wallpaper, and keep them honest.”

  So he spent a lot of time at the new house and also working with Fitch and Harold. He avoided the beach in the early morning, and when Madison left messages on Seph’s cell phone, he didn’t call her back. When it came to keeping secrets, he had the experience of a lifetime to draw upon. He was determined not to allow her or anyone else to become entangled in his personal vendetta. He remembered Leicester’s warnings.

  But the girls at the pavilion were no longer appealing. The image of Madison always intruded: her floppy hat with the long ribbon, the long vintage skirts and lace blouses, her sprinkling of freckles and sun-painted hair. Even the way she looked down her nose at him when she thought he was being arrogant.

  Leander Hastings returned to town the second week of August. The meeting of the Council of Wizards had finally been scheduled. It was to be held in Trinity.

  He had spent an afternoon at the meadow with Jack and Ellen, coaching them through their routines. It was a hot day, and it had been a tough workout. Now the warriors were collapsed into the Adirondack chairs on the front porch, having put away about a gallon of iced tea. Hastings sat on the cool concrete of the porch steps with Seph next to him.

  They were talking about the upcoming meeting. Jack disapproved of the location. “Create a sanctuary for the rest of us, then throw open the doors to wizards. That makes sense.”

  “It’s actually a good thing,” Hastings replied. “It must be, because Gregory Leicester and Claude D’Orsa
y are opposed.” His glance rested on Seph a moment.

  “Why is it a good thing?” Seph asked. Tiny, late-summer gnats rose up around him. He released a bit of power to keep them at bay.

  “There’s considerable pressure on the council right now. Some members want to throw away the Rules of Engagement and put down the rebellion.” He smiled at Jack and Ellen. “Go to war against the Anaweir. Put these warriors and enchanters in their places.” He paused. “Others want to convene an Interguild Conference as the new rules direct, and come to a workable agreement. Here in Trinity, all voices are likely to be heard, with no trickery, sorcery, or black magic going on. Well, trickery perhaps.” He smiled again.

  “Where’s it being held?” Ellen asked. She pushed her sweaty hair behind her ears.

  “They’ll have it at the Legends Inn.”

  “How many wizards are coming?” Seph asked.

  “There will be twenty altogether. That’s a lot of power and spark for a small town.”

  “Will the Dragon be there?” Seph couldn’t help asking the question. He saw the Wizard Council meeting as the classic example of the mountain coming to Mohammad.

  Hastings turned and faced Seph, resting his hands on his knees. “I don’t know, Seph,” he said. “Why do you ask?”

  Seph shifted uncomfortably under the wizard’s scrutiny. “Like I said. I’d like to meet him.”

  “I see.” Hastings continued to gaze at Seph until he shifted his eyes away. “As I told you before, the Dragon is not on the Wizard Council. He prefers to work behind the scenes.” He still had not answered Seph’s question, and obviously didn’t intend to.

  Seph was determined to meet the Dragon if he came to Trinity. Surely, he would come. But then, he wouldn’t know him if he saw him on the street. “I was hoping you could introduce me.”

  “If I see him, perhaps I’ll tell him you’re looking for him.”

  “Will Gregory Leicester be there?” Seph persisted.

  “Dr. Leicester is on the council, yes. Despite his disapproval of the location, I’m sure he wouldn’t miss it.”

  Maybe there would be an opportunity to take Leicester by surprise.

  Hastings was watching him, green eyes intent under the dark brows. It was almost as if he could read Seph’s mind. “I think you should all stay away from the inn during the meeting.”

  He spoke to all three of them, but the message was intended for Seph. Ellen and Jack nodded, but Seph merely leaned back against the steps, closing his eyes. He’d had a revelation. Leander Hastings doesn’t trust me, Seph thought. That’s what this is all about.

  On the first day of the council meeting, Seph set his alarm and woke up early in his aerie of a bedroom. Since the ill-fated picnic, he’d seen Linda’s bodyguards following him around and pretended not to notice. Today, he hoped to shake off his shadow by leaving the house before anyone was up.

  He pulled on his shorts and T-shirt, then rooted in the back corner of his underwear drawer, retrieving a small ceramic bottle with a crystal stopper. He slid it into his pocket and padded downstairs. When he reached the second floor, he saw that Jack’s door was open and his bed was made. Seph glanced up and down the hallway, stepped inside Jack’s room, and closed the door. He crouched down next to the bed.

  Jack’s sword, Shadowslayer, was underneath, in its case. Seph knew better than to touch that. Will and Fitch had helped Jack dig it out of a warrior’s grave. Fitch said he’d nearly been torched when he tried to open the case.

  Seph slid his hand between the mattress and box spring and pulled out a short knife in a sheath. It was not Jack’s weapon of choice, but he’d used it the day Seph arrived in Trinity. Seph shoved it under his T-shirt, into the waist of his jeans. He liked having it there. It made him feel as if he were finally going to take action, instead of sitting and waiting for another attack.

  He’d been over to the Legends Inn the week before, familiarizing himself with the layout of the place. Today he planned to find out where the wizards were meeting, and in particular, where they were sleeping.

  Seph crept down the back staircase, hoping to leave the house by the back door, but he ran right into Becka, who was on her way out, dressed for court.

  “Good morning, Seph. You’re up early,” she said, smiling. “Linda’s home. She and Jack are in the kitchen.” She said it loudly, too, so Seph knew Linda would be waiting for him to come around the corner. Shaking his head, he went on into the kitchen.

  Linda and Jack were just finishing breakfast. They abruptly stopped talking when Seph came into the room. Linda looked pale and tired. She wore the same black business suit she’d worn the day she’d rescued Seph at the Havens. “I think you’ve grown,” she said. “Every time I go away, you grow an inch!”

  “Welcome home, Aunt Linda.” Seph poured himself some coffee and brought it over to the table.

  “How are my contractors doing, Seph? I’m meeting with them in a little while.”

  The contractors were absolutely dazzled by Linda Downey. Dave Martin, the general contractor, was always thinking of some enhancement that he wanted to run by Seph, to see if he thought Linda would approve. They never questioned the fact that they were working for a sixteen-year-old boy. It was another one of those strange Weir-Anaweir relationships.

  “They seem to be on schedule,” he said. “Dave has some changes he wants to go over with you. The revised drawings are on the dining room table.” Seph was afraid she would suggest that he go along with her to the meeting, but she didn’t. He thought it might be her day to watch him after her absence, but it wasn’t, because she retrieved the plans from the dining room and picked up her briefcase.

  “Have fun today, guys. Be good, Seph.” And then she was gone.

  Jack studied Seph as if he were a problem he might have to solve. Seph was very aware of the “borrowed” knife poking him in the thigh. I guess it’s Jack’s day to watch me, he thought.

  “We’re going sailing today,” Jack said abruptly.

  Seph’s heart sank. The Swift-Downey family had a sailboat, a day sailer they kept in the water all season. Jack had been promising to take Seph out on the lake. But it had never worked out. Until today.

  “Today?” Seph cast about for an excuse. “You know, today really isn’t a very . . . I mean, I don’t really . . .”

  “We won’t go very far out,” Jack said, giving him that dead-on look. “We’ll just run up and down the shoreline. Will and Fitch are coming. My mom packed a lunch. It’s all set.”

  Seph was caught, and he knew it. Whose idea was this? he wondered. The plan was clearly designed to keep him away from the inn.

  “Okay,” Seph said, forcing enthusiasm. “Great!”

  Will and Fitch were waiting on the pier, chatting with Harold Fry, when they arrived at the harbor.

  Harold nodded to Jack and Seph. “Morning, boys.” The old man watched as Jack leaped nimbly into the dinghy and stowed the gear. “When’re you going to get yourself a real boat, Jack?”

  “Thats okay, Harold, this is all I can handle for now.” Jack braced the dinghy while Seph, Will, and Fitch climbed aboard.

  “I’m psyched,” Fitch said as they rowed out to where Windego was anchored in the harbor. “I’ve been dropping hints about going sailing all summer.” It seemed everyone was happy about the excursion but Seph.

  It was a beautiful day. The lake was a translucent bottle-green color, and only a few high clouds interrupted the endless blue of the sky as Jack fired up the motor to push the boat out of the harbor. Dozens of white sails pricked the horizon.

  Once they were in open water, Seph resigned himself to the situation, working hard to crew under Jack’s direction. He remembered a little about managing the sails from the times he’d been out with Warren Barber. Jack was a smart and aggressive skipper, if Seph was any judge. Eventually Jack turned the mainsail sheet over to Seph while he managed the jib. The wind was brisk out of the west, and when they got it right, the boat flew over the water, sm
ashing through the great, lazy fair-weather swells. He and Jack traded off, but Will and Fitch seemed inclined to sit in the spray at the bow of the boat and do as little work as possible.

  They anchored off one of the less-crowded beaches east of Trinity, and went swimming. Seph left Jack’s knife carefully hidden in his clothes. The water was still cool, even in August, but it was a hot day, and after only a brief period on deck they were ready to go back in.

  After a leisurely lunch and another swim, they dozed for a time on deck, the boat gently rocking in the swells, before heading back toward town. They were moving against the wind this time, and had to do some elaborate tacking. It took them much longer to return than it had to sail out.

  “You’re hired, Seph,” Jack said, grinning as Seph nailed a complicated come-about. “Better than these two losers.” He nodded at Will and Fitch.

  Fitch lifted his can of pop in a toast. “To the crew.”

  It was late afternoon when Jack started up the motor and they threaded their way back into the harbor. A perfect day, but Seph couldn’t help wondering if the meetings at the Legends might still be going on. He’d already wasted one day out of two.

  The other three had remained in their swimming gear, but he had changed back into his clothes, sticking the knife back under his waistband.

  When the dinghy had drifted close enough, Jack leaped out onto the pier and secured the line. He and Seph muscled the cooler out of the boat and carried their gear up the steps to the marina parking lot.

  Jack turned back toward the marina office. “I’m going to go see what kind of bait Jerry’s got,” he explained. “Maybe we can go fishing tomorrow.” He headed back down the steps.

  And that will take care of tomorrow, Seph thought. Now might be his only chance to break away. As soon as Jack was out of sight, Seph said, as if he’d only just thought of it, “I just remembered, I was supposed to meet Aunt Linda over at the new house at four thirty. I’m already late. Tell Jack I had to go.” Without waiting for a response, he sprinted through the parking lot and around the corner.