The Dragon Heir

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The Dragon Heir Page 16

by Cinda Williams Chima


  She cleaned her brushes in the sink and walked back to the house, skirting frozen puddles and patches of mud, followed by the dogs, their tails wagging hopefully.

  She paused at the foot of the porch steps to look over the flower beds. New shoots were poking up from the prickly skeletons of the tea roses, and the climber on the trellis by the porch was leafing out bravely.

  It was Saturday. Carlene had worked late the night before, and her door was closed. She’d still be in bed. There was breakfast debris on the table, signaling that Grace and John Robert were loose on the mountain. Rounding them up was like herding cats or butterflies. But they’d show up hungry any time now.

  She’d take them to town for lunch, she decided. They could wander around Main Street and she’d buy some fertilizer for the garden.

  Madison pulled the truck into the angle parking in front of the courthouse. The kids were out of the truck almost before it rolled to a stop.

  She shoved two twenty-dollar bills into Grace’s hand, taken from her dwindling supply of waitressing money. “Robertson’s is having a sale,” she said. “Why don’t you look for clothes in there? Then take J.R. to to the five-and-dime. I’ll meet you at the Bluebird in an hour, and we’ll have lunch.”

  Grace studied the money as if it might be some kind of trick, then folded the bills and put them into her tiny purse.

  “Stay together and don’t wander off Main Street, so I can find you when I’m done.” Madison turned away.

  “Where are you going to be?” Grace had a tight hold of John Robert’s hand. He was pulling away like a puppy on a leash.

  “Hazelton’s. I’m going to get some fertilizer for the flower beds.”

  Madison went into Hazelton’s Implements. Josh Hazelton was behind the counter, as she knew he’d be. He’d been in Madison’s class at school. Once they’d been friends and told each other secrets. He’d even kissed her under the stands at a football game. They’d awkwardly bumped lips like two goldfish meeting.

  That was before he’d gotten in with Brice and them. Funny. Ordinarily, Brice wouldn’t give Josh the time of day. So Josh was flattered to be invited into Brice’s crowd.

  Madison didn’t have a crowd. Only Josh. And then not even him.

  When Josh looked up and saw her, a guilty blush spread from his collar all the way to his ears. “Hey, Maddie!” he said, turning away from three other customers, all of whom Madison knew. “I heard you were back in town.”

  “For a while,” Madison said, running her hand over a display of mailboxes painted with flowers in colors unknown to nature. “I need some fertilizer.”

  “Here, I’ll show you,” he said, eagerly pushing past the swinging gate at the end of the counter.

  She raised her hand to stop him. “You’ve got customers. Just tell me where it is, all right?”

  Josh pointed to the back right corner of the store. “Back there. Regular and organic. Five- and ten-pound bags.”

  She chose a bag of organic fertilizer and some gardening gloves, and brought them to the counter. By then the other customers had left. Josh rang them up for her.

  “So how do you like it up north?” he asked, handing her the receipt.

  “I like it.”

  “As well as here?”

  “Better.” She went to turn away.

  “Uh, Maddie?” Josh hesitated, and then the words tumbled out like cats from a bag. “I thought maybe, you know, that you left because . . . because of all that crap last year.” He waited, and when she didn’t say anything, added, “Look, I’m sorry if ... Some of us were just having some fun, you know?”

  “I didn’t realize we were having fun.” She looked him in the eyes until he looked away, ears flaming.

  “I never believed it. What they said about you,” he mumbled.

  “Really? I never heard you speak up.”

  “Well. Anyway. I’m glad you’re back.”

  “Not for long,” she said, pretending to look at purple-martin houses.

  Josh still hovered. “Have you seen Brice since you’ve been back?” he asked.

  “Yeah.” She tried not to make a face. “You still hang around with him?”

  He shook his head, coloring again. “Nah. I guess he’s really busy.”

  “Right,” she said.

  “I hear he has some new friends who don’t go to our school.” He paused, then said, awkwardly, “You never liked him.”

  “No. Still don’t.” She didn’t see any point in lying.

  “He never could figure that out. Why you wouldn’t go out with him.”

  Madison blinked at him. “He told you that?”

  Josh shook his head. “Not exactly. But I knew. He thought you’d be . . . he thought you’d say yes.”

  Madison snorted. “Come on. I don’t think having me as a . . . as a friend was ever high on his list.”

  Josh licked his lips. “You’re wrong. I think it really bugged him. You always want what you can’t have. And people— people listen to him, you know?”

  First, she thought, Why are we talking about Brice Roper? And then it came to her, a revelation. “What are you trying to tell me? That he was behind the . . . people calling me a witch?”

  “Well. It didn’t take much to convince people. I mean, you’re kind of different. You dress like a gypsy and always walk around with a frown on your face like you’re mad at the world.” He held up his hand. “I’m sorry, but it’s true. And you were always painting all those pictures, and you lived up on the mountain in that spooky old house.”

  “It’s not spooky,” she retorted, then shut her mouth. Who cared what everybody thought?

  Josh shrugged. “Your grandmother read the cards and hexed people, and your mom is . . . kind of wild.”

  “Shut up, Josh,” Madison said, feeling the blood rush into her face. She turned away, staring out through the window at a boarded-up storefront across the street.

  But Josh would not be silenced. “So one night a bunch of us guys were talking, and some of us had asked you out and been turned down. So Brice just started saying, what if, you know? And we were cracking up, we couldn’t help it, he just has a way of putting things. So. I guess we . . . I guess we all kind of got it started. We put out notes and started texting people and then it sort of took on a life of its own, you know?”

  Madison swung around and took a step forward and Josh flinched, like he thought she might hit him or spell him or something. “Why do you think I turned them down when they asked me out? Because some guys like to brag about things that never happened. All except you. I knew . . . you would never . . . I thought you . . .” She stopped, unwilling to trust herself to go on. It was really ironic that Brice Roper with his Persuasive hands and sleazy layer of wizardly charm would be accusing her of being a witch, when she didn’t have a stitch of magic in her.

  No magic of her own, anyway.

  Josh cleared his throat, looking like somebody with his hand in a vise who can’t wait to be released. “Anyway. I’m really sorry. I never believed you burnt anything down. I’ve been wanting to tell you.”

  She cleared her throat. “Well. Thanks. I guess.”

  “Want me to carry that out for you?” he asked, handing her the receipt for the fertilizer.

  “I can manage.” She rested the bag of fertilizer on her hip and turned toward the door.

  “Um. Maddie? You know, prom’s coming up.”

  She stiffened. “Josh, I ...”

  He rushed on. “Since I heard you were back, I’ve been meaning to call you, but . . . well, you don’t have a phone. I wondered if you might want to go with me. As friends, I mean. You could see everyone.”

  He thought he was offering her a gift, a chance to hold her head up and show everybody they didn’t drive her off. But she realized she didn’t care what they thought. Not anymore.

  Madison shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

  She left him standing behind the counter, hands hanging at his sides.


  Grace and John Robert were ten minutes late for their rendezvous at the Bluebird. And when they showed up, Brice Roper was with them.

  “Hello, Madison,” he said, sliding right into a seat at her table. He was wearing jeans and a cotton sweater and a fleece-lined leather jacket that definitely didn’t come from Robertson’s. “I ran into Grace and John Robert at the five-and-dime.”

  Madison gripped the arms of her chair, her heart thumping. Josh Hazelton’s revelations were fresh in her mind. But then, Josh hadn’t told her anything about Brice that she didn’t already know.

  “I’m surprised you didn’t hustle them off to Child Welfare,” she said. “Being as I left them on their own in town and all.”

  Brice signaled the server. “Look, I said I was sorry.”

  “Actually, I don’t think you did.”

  He shrugged. “Well, I meant to, anyway. So, to make up for it, I invited Grace and John Robert to come over next week and go riding.”

  “Let us go, Maddie, please?” John Robert was practically bouncing in place, gripping her hand. The boy didn’t know how to hold a proper grudge.

  Grace was different. She wouldn’t have forgiven Brice Roper for putting them in foster care. But she loved horses with the passion only a ten-year-old girl could muster. She’d mucked out stalls the summer before in trade for riding lessons. And the Ropers had the prettiest horses in the county. If there was a way to win Gracie over, this was it. She reverberated with indecision, vibrating like a plucked string.

  Madison didn’t want to be beholden in any way to the Ropers. And she didn’t want Grace spending time with the wizard Brice Roper for reasons of her own.

  “Absolutely not,” Madison said, glaring at Brice. “I can’t believe you’d even suggest that. Your horses are for experienced riders. They’re not used to kids.”

  “But you know I can ride, Maddie,” Grace protested. Like usual, if Maddie said no, Grace said yes. “I took lessons all last summer with Mr. Ragland. He said I was a natural born horsewoman.”

  “There’s no better teacher around than George Ragland,” Brice said. “And J.R.’ll be fine. We always have kids’ horses around for the cousins.”

  “Pleeeeese,” John Robert begged, hanging on Madison’s arm.

  “I said no, and I mean it,” Madison said, dislodging John Robert. She looked up at Brice. “You turn the kids over to the county because Mama couldn’t find a babysitter, and then you want me to let them risk life and limb . . .”

  “No problem,” Brice cut in, just as she was winding up. “I’ll just ask Carlene.”

  And that shut Madison up, like he knew it would.

  Carlene wouldn’t hold grudges about court dates and child welfare. Carlene hadn’t had to drop out of school and come back home to bail out the kids. If Brice asked Carlene, she’d let them go in a New York minute. She liked cozying up to the Ropers’ money.

  Madison sat frozen, cheeks flaming. Even Grace and J.R. knew she’d been outmaneuvered. Grace looked from Brice to Madison, her brow furrowed. “Don’t worry, Maddie,” she said softly. “We’ll be real careful.”

  “I know you will, honey,” Madison said through stiff lips.

  “Great,” Brice said. The server was hovering and he scanned the menu. “We’ll start with a platter of wings and onion rings,” he said. “Root beer for everyone. And then whatever else they want.” He looked over at Madison as she opened her mouth to object. “My treat.”

  No, she thought. This was supposed to be my treat.

  The server hurried off.

  “We’ve got horses that you could ride, Maddie,” Brice said, putting his hot hand over hers on the table. “Why don’t you come?”

  She ripped her hand free. “I’m busy all week.”

  “How about next week?”

  “I’m busy every week.” She stood. “Matter of fact, I forgot something at the hardware store.” She nodded to the kids. “Go ahead and have lunch, if you want. I’ll meet you over there.”

  But Brice just grinned at Grace and John Robert like they were co-conspirators. “We’ll win your big sister over yet.”

  To Brice it was a game he was destined to win. But he had no idea the danger he was in. If Maddie’d had a gun, she would have shot him.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Gone South

  “Alicia! Your young man—what’s his name again?” Aunt Millisandra pointed her bejeweled hand at Jason, who tried hard not to duck.

  “Jason,” Leesha said, perched on the edge of her chair as if she were ready to spring. “His name’s Jason, Aunt Milli.”

  They were sitting in a stuffy parlor decorated with highly flammable pine roping and a dried-out Christmas tree. The only light came from stubs of candles nestled dangerously in the greens.

  “You’re sure it’s not Jasper? I used to know a Jasper. Jasper DeVilliers. He was French, a bit underpowered, if you know what I mean, but quite the ladies’ man.” Aunt Millisandra fixed Jason with her purple-shadowed eyes, as if expecting to extract a confession.

  Jason shook his head. “Jason,” he said.

  “A peculiar name, Jason. Would you like another cookie, young man?” Millisandra extended a tray of charred and soggy shortbread. They’d started out okay, but then she’d set fire to them while trying to heat up the tea and had to extinguish them with lemonade.

  “Um. That’s okay. I’ve eaten lots already.”

  Leesha’s Aunt Millisandra reminded Jason of one of those dried-up insect carcasses you sometimes found—fragile, like she might crack open if you touched her. She was about a million years old, the richest woman in town—and a wizard who’d lost some key cards from her mental deck. Spending time with her was about as chancy as sitting in the middle of a bonfire with a crate of cherry bombs on your lap.

  “More tea, then?”

  “No, thanks.” He looked at his watch. Nine p.m. “Whoa, look at the time. I had no idea.” He stood.‘Thanks for the tea and all.”

  “In for a penny, in for a pound,” Aunt Milli said, waving her hand and shattering glasses all around the room.

  “I’ll walk you out,” Leesha said, jumping to her feet.

  In the foyer, she grabbed his hand. “Sorry. I thought she’d be asleep by now!” she hissed.

  “Guess not.”

  “I think she likes you.”

  “If only my name was Jasper.”

  “Look, I know she’s kind of—dangerous—now, but she’s my favorite aunt. She used to take me all kinds of places. Whenever my parents didn’t want me around, she’d always take me in.”

  “I could’ve used a relative like that,” Jason said, forgetting the usual self-edit.

  Leesha stood on tiptoes and brushed her lips across his cheek, nearly missing. “‘Bye, Jason.”

  “Can’t you come out? There must be someplace we can go.”

  Leesha glanced over her shoulder. “I’d better not.” She’d seemed oddly jittery all evening, as if she’d had too much caffeine or something. It was almost like she was glad old Aunt Milli was there to serve as chaperone. As she turned back around, he noticed that her face seemed oddly misshapen.

  Jason grasped Leesha’s chin and turned her face up toward the porchlight. She flinched and pulled away.

  “What happened to your face?” One side of it was swollen, and he could see bruises under the makeup. It hadn’t been apparent in the candlelit parlor.

  Leesha turned away from the light. “It was Aunt Milli. She took out a wall in the conservatory. I’m afraid we’re going to have to put her in a home.”

  Were there homes for wizards with dementia? “Seems like you should slip some Weirsbane into her tea. She’d be easier to handle if she wasn’t always setting things on fire.”

  “I’ve tried that. She can always tell.” She paused. “Maybe tomorrow we could go to Cleveland or something. Someplace away.”

  Jason shrugged. “Maybe.” There was nothing else to do but leave, so he left.

  He walked home thro
ugh dark streets. They’d been to the park twice that week already. In really cold weather, they hung out at matinees, where they were unlikely to be spotted, or went back to Leesha’s house—er—mansion. Usually Aunt Millisandra went to bed early, but lately she’d had insomnia, or something.

  He hadn’t done so much sneaking around since he lived back at home with his dad and stepmother. That seemed like a lifetime ago. It was hard to keep a secret in a small town. He wasn’t exactly answerable to Nick or Linda or anyone else, except maybe Hastings. He’d just prefer to avoid the lecture if he could. Jack, Will, Fitch, Seph, Ellen—they all hated and mistrusted Leesha Middleton.

  So why didn’t he? Not that he totally trusted her, but there was a reckless intensity to their relationship that appealed to him. She was the only spark in an otherwise dismal existence. Otherwise, he was going through the motions, marking time, contributing nothing.

  Leesha’d had a hard life, in a way—she’d been an inconvenience to her aristocratic wizard parents until her escapades in the Trade made her an embarrassment. She was a survivor, but still somehow vulnerable, and she never did anything halfway.

  He laughed. You are so out of your league, he thought. It was the story of his life.

  When he arrived home, Linda Downey was in the kitchen, dishing ice cream into a blender.

  “Jason! You’re just in time. I’m making milkshakes.” Linda gripped both his hands, warming him all the way to his toes.

  “Milkshakes,” he repeated stupidly. “I’m glad I came.”

  “You’ve got lipstick on your face,” she said, reaching up and rubbing it off with her forefinger.

  He liked that about Linda. She didn’t ask hard questions. Then he noticed her suitcase sitting by the door. “You going someplace?”

  She hesitated. “I’m meeting Leander in Britain.”

  “Right. Well. Great.” His face burned, and the words seemed to stick in his throat. “Bon voyage, I guess.”

  He went to turn away, and she gripped his arm. “Seph’s in the solarium,” she said, looking anxiously up into his eyes. “He’s been waiting for you. He needs help with something.” She nodded toward the back of the house.

 

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