The Dragon Heir

by Cinda Williams Chima

  Right. Probably wants me to shine his shoes. Feeling irritable and uncooperative, Jason went to find Seph.

  Seph sat next to the windows reading in a puddle of light cast by a single table lamp. Past the patio there was a strip of snowy lawn, then a wall that marked the dropoff to the lake. In the background, the waves crashed in a northwest wind, claiming and relinquishing the beach.

  Seph looked up and marked his place with a finger. “Jase! Where’ve you been?”

  Jason shrugged. “Here and there. What’s up?”

  No answer. Seph sat motionless, staring into space, like he’d checked out completely. It was like talking to someone wearing headphones or reading his e-mail at the same time. Jason knew Seph must be monitoring the boundary.

  “What are you reading?” Jason asked, trying to break in.

  Seph looked up, a little startled. “AP Physics. We’re having another practice test next week.”

  Jason dropped into a wrought-iron chair. “Can you really do both those things at the same time?” I couldn’t do one of those things at the same time, he thought to himself.

  In fact, Seph looked bad, kind of hollow-cheeked and twitchy, and his eyes glittered and burned. “You sound like Lin ...my mom.”

  As if on cue, Linda appeared, carrying two tall milk-shakes on a tray. And a big bowl of trail mix.

  She clunked a milkshake down in front of Seph. “Here. See that you finish this. And you can let go of the boundary in a few minutes. Iris said she’d take over at ten.”

  “I’m okay.” Seph sat up a little straighter. “I can keep it a while longer. Till I go to bed, anyway.”

  “We’ve already talked about pushing yourself, Seph. Don’t argue.” It was one of the few times Jason had seen Seph’s mother exerting parental authority.

  When she went back into the house, Jason said, “She acts like you’re an invalid or something.”

  Seph shrugged and looked away. “Yeah. Well.”

  Seph obviously wasn’t going to tell him what was going on. Jason tried again. “She seems kind of stressed.”

  Seph sucked down some milkshake and set the glass down. “It’s the whole deal with being in charge while my father’s away. She’d like to get some more wizards who could watch the perimeter, to give us a break, but Snowbeard is worried about trusting anyone new.”

  You could try me, Jason thought. He didn’t bother to say it aloud.

  “Nick’s really fixated on that stuff you brought back from Britain,” Seph went on. “Linda’s good at managing the other guilds, but wizards always think they should be running everything. Some of them aren’t used to taking orders from an enchanter.”

  Seph seemed to be avoiding mention of Linda’s travel plans, so Jason said, “And now she’s going to Britain.”

  Seph nodded while watching Jason, as if wary of his reaction. “So she’s leaving, and she’s worried about leaving me on my own.” Seph leaned his head back. His mind seemed to drift again for a moment, then he said, “You still wear the dyrne sefa?”

  In answer, Jason fished the pendant out from under his shirt.

  Seph smiled. “Remember when we used to go out in the woods and practice wizardry at the Havens?”

  Jason didn’t particularly want to remember his time at the Havens—especially what had happened to his father. Plus it just highlighted the magical performance gap that had grown between him and Seph. He found that contrast more and more oppressive.

  “I taught you everything I knew. Which wasn’t much. And now you’ve gone way beyond me. But Linda says you want to ask me something.”

  “I need to ask you a favor.”

  “Which is ...?”

  “Someone broke into Maddie’s room the other night.”

  Jason waited, and when Seph didn’t go on, asked, “Did they take anything?”

  “We don’t know. I looked around, but I couldn’t tell if anything was missing.”

  “What’s she say?”

  “I can’t reach her. Their phone’s disconnected and her cell phone doesn’t work at her house. I e-mailed her, but I don’t know when she’ll get the message.”

  Where’s this leading? Jason thought. “Maybe it was someone who knew she was gone and thought they’d take advantage.”

  “They used magic to blow a hole in her door.” Seph paused long enough to let this sink in. “Hers was the only room they touched. And she’s got nothing to steal.” He looked out at the lake. “I didn’t want her to leave in the first place. It’s bad enough if they go after her because of me. But if they know what she can do . . .”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “Go down there and bring her back. I’d go myself, but Snowbeard wants me here. Besides, they’ll be looking for me to go. You’re less likely to lead them to her.” Seph paused and cleared his throat. “There’s something else. There was something left behind in her room, a painting with a hex in it, targeted at me. It hit me pretty hard.”

  “Whoa.” Jason stared at him. That explained Seph’s haggard appearance, then. But if he was handling the boundary, he couldn’t be too bad off. “Are you okay? Did the ...”

  “I’m fine,” Seph snapped. “But it was Madison’s painting. So Snowbeard thinks Madison may be . . . may have turned.” He muttered this last, as if he didn’t want to honor it by saying it out loud.

  Jason considered this. He’d known there was something off between Seph and Madison, but he still would’ve said they were crazy about each other.

  Then again, you had to consider what Seph was competing against. A Claude D’Orsay or Jessamine Longbranch could make Madison rich beyond her wildest dreams. Rich enough to attend any art school in the country.

  So he chose the safest response. “What do you think?”

  “What do you mean, what do I think?” Seph leaned forward, practically shedding sparks. “It’s impossible. She wouldn’t do that.”

  “Okay, okay.” Jason raised his hands to ward off harm. “I’m not disagreeing. But still, maybe it isn’t a good idea to bring her back here if she may be . . .”

  “Why would she have gone back home if she was plotting something? That makes no sense.”

  “Well. If she left you a spell-bomb, wouldn’t she want to be as far away as possible when it went off?”

  Seph stood, towering over Jason. Power bled from his skin and ran in rivulets to the floor, where it scorched a ring into the flagstones. He looked dragged-out tired, but hyper-juiced at the same time.

  “Hey, man, will you chill?” Jason said. “I’m not disagreeing with you, just asking questions. Or is that not allowed?”

  Seph glared at him a moment, then subsided back into his chair, trembling.

  Gotta tread easy here, Jason thought. He tried to think of something harmless to say. “So. Um. Does Snowbeard know you’re asking me to do this?”

  Seph massaged his forehead as if to pry loose a reluctant truth. “It was kind of Nick’s idea. He wants you to go to Coalton County and spy on Madison and find out what the story is. Is she in danger, or is she working for the Roses or what? Is anyone else hanging around down there who might be behind the attack on me?” He looked up at Jason. “So you can do both. Check on those things and bring her back.” He looked away. “Either way. If she’s working against us, we can’t . . . we can’t risk letting it continue. If she’s not, we can’t risk leaving her out there on her own.”

  And what are you going to do if it turns out she has gone over to the dark side, Jason thought.

  “I’m not exactly the go-to person when it comes to wizardry.” He shook his head when Seph made as if to disagree. “Just ...don’t. Why me?”

  Seph shrugged, surrendering. “I can’t leave, and neither can Nick. With Madison, it doesn’t matter how powerful you are. It’s almost a disadvantage to be juiced.” He smiled apologetically.

  “Why send a wizard, then?”

  “Well. In . . . in case she’s . . . in case there are wizards down there. That she’s
working with.”

  This was killing Seph, Jason knew. And if Jason brought back the news that Madison had turned, he just might kill the messenger. He tried a joke. “What if she won’t come? My deadly charm won’t work on her, you know.”

  Seph didn’t look amused. “Convince her.” He raked a hand through his hair. “I know you’re back in school, but it should-n’t take more than a couple of days to go down there and bring her back. Three or four days would give you time to scout around and ask questions, I guess.”

  He put his blistering hand on Jason’s arm and looked him in the eyes. “Whatever happens, Jase, we need you back here when you’re done. We’ve got some plans in the works that need wizardry, and that’s what we’re short on.”

  Jason considered this, taking his time. Seph wouldn’t send Jason to Madison if he didn’t think it was necessary. Otherwise the risk would outweigh the benefit. And, just as obviously, Jason was more expendable than either Seph or Nick.

  Should he go? It would get him out of Trinity, though he guessed Coal Grove wouldn’t be an improvement. But this might be the opening he needed to break away, to get out from under Nick’s supervision and the obligation he felt to Seph. He could do him this one last favor, and then . . .

  “How would I get down there?”

  “I made Madison write out directions before she left. My mother says you can use her car, since she’s leaving, anyway.” Seph grinned, looking more like his old self. “Just make sure you bring it back in one piece.”

  Sweet. Linda drove a BMW Z4 roadster convertible.

  Though Madison might have to drive her truck back if she wanted to bring more than a toothbrush.

  The coil of tension inside Jason unwound a notch. It was a plan. He had some money saved up from working at the docks over the past year. He’d retrieve a few magical items from St. Catherine’s that might help him in Britain. He’d accompany Madison back as far as Columbus, then send her on. By the time they realized he was gone, he could be back at Raven’s Ghyll. He’d make Hastings take him on. If not, there were other places to go in the world, other battles to fight.

  Right.

  Of course this only worked if Madison was on their side.

  “Okay. I’m on my way. Draw me a map while I pack my stuff.”

  It was just getting light when Jason parked the BMW in the lot at St. Catherine’s.

  The tiny trunk was already loaded with his clothes and music. Once on his way, he didn’t plan on stopping. He hoped to leave town without dealing with Nick or Mercedes. With any luck, they’d slept late.

  He felt bad about Leesha, but he’d text her to let her know he was gone, once he was on his way. He didn’t feel like he could risk an in-person goodbye. When he was settled, he could get back in touch.

  Using the key he’d copied from Seph’s, he descended to the chilly darkness of the crypt and disabled the charms that had been laid over Thomas Swift’s unused tomb. The magical pieces were sorted, labeled, and for the most part, put away.

  The Dragonheart mocked him from its ornate stand in the corner, awakening a hopeless longing as his Weirstone responded. He and Nick and Mercedes had tried everything they knew, but nobody had been able to touch the stone since that day he’d first gone out with Leesha right after Madison had left. He struggled to relate those different events, and gave up.

  If the text from the cave could be believed, they had a weapon of unmatchable power, and they couldn’t even get near it.

  Maybe it’d be easier to accept if he was far away. Maybe he wouldn’t feel so barren and empty.

  He’d take only a few things that Nick and Mercedes might overlook. He ran through the possibilities. He had no need for lovestones; that had never been a problem. Nor collars for captives; he planned to take no prisoners. He wasn’t about to carry around magic mirrors that weren’t reliable anyway. But scrying stones were small and might lead him to what he was looking for. Amulets and talismans were always useful.

  He lifted one of the magical daggers and weighed it in his hand. That might give him an edge against a more powerful adversary—D’Orsay or anybody else.

  In the end, he chose a dagger, a scrying stone, a talisman for protection, and an amulet that was supposed to give strength to the bearer. He already had the dyrne sefa given to him by his mother—good for multiple purposes. He slid the chosen items into his backpack and left the rest where they were.

  When he came out of the church, he skidded to a stop. Leesha was leaning against his car. He should’ve used the less accessible but more private water gate. Ordinarily, he’d be glad to see her, but he just wasn’t in a position to be answering questions this morning.

  “Back in church again?” She lifted an eyebrow and attempted a smile that didn’t quite come off.

  He shrugged, acutely conscious of the magical pieces in his backpack. How had she found him so quickly? It was early for her to be out. Had she followed him?

  “Cool car,” she said, resting her hand on the BMW, another question plain on her face. Where the night before she’d seemed antsy and distracted, today she seemed grim and determined. As if she knew he intended to split.

  Damn. He should’ve left the car at home until he was ready to leave.

  He stared at her, temporarily wordless, then said, “A friend let me borrow it.”

  “Take me for a ride?”

  “I’ve got to return it, and I’m late already. I’ll text you later, all right?” Jason tossed the backpack into the passenger seat and circled round to get in on the driver’s side.

  Leesha reached in and picked up the backpack by its strap. “What’s in here?”

  “Hey, leave that alone.” Jason rounded the side of the car and grabbed the backpack out of her hands.

  “What’s in there, Jason? A present for me?” She lunged for the backpack and he caught her wrists to keep her from latching on again. For a moment they stood face-to-face, glaring at each other. With the whole town looking on if it cared to.

  Jason released her hands and took a step back. “Please, Leesha. Just . . . Like I said, I’m kind of in a hurry. I’m sorry. I’ll talk to you later, okay? I promise.” He got in the car, putting the backpack on the floor at his feet.

  “Right,” she said, and stood, chewing her lip, watching as he drove away.

  What was that all about? he wondered, as he navigated the tree-lined streets around the square. She’d seemed almost angry with him.

  In the time it took to reach the interstate, he’d lost himself in the pleasure of driving the BMW. Interstate 71 sliced southwest, parting flat farm fields on either side. He cranked up the radio. There wasn’t much traffic, so he cranked the speed up, too, reasoning he could always talk his way out of a ticket.

  He knew he was taking stupid chances, with the invasion of Raven’s Ghyll, and with Leesha, and with driving too fast, but somehow he couldn’t help himself.

  When he reached Columbus, he circled around, exited onto Route 23, then again onto another state route, heading southeast into the hills. He watched his mirrors intermittently, but could see no sign he was being followed. He passed through tiny towns: Glen Furnace, Floradale, Salt Creek. He planned to head straight down to Maddie’s. These country roads would be easier to navigate by daylight.

  His phone went off several times. Leesha calling. No message. He shut it off.

  By the time he reached Coal Grove, it had clouded over and begun to sleet, a relentless needle-fine, bone-chilling rain that froze on contact. The cloud ceiling dropped until it nearly met the ground.

  He drove east, out of town, Seph’s directions beside him on the seat, his backpack on the floor on the passenger side. The landscape looked like it’d taken a beating and never quite recovered.

  He had no idea how it would go at Maddie’s. He knew from experience that Madison Moss couldn’t be bullied. But maybe she’d be glad to see him, wanting news of Seph. And he could check out her reaction when he delivered it.

  The road rapidly
deteriorated from pavement to oiled gravel. It twisted and turned, but mostly it climbed. A thick, second-growth forest crowded in on either side, greening up for spring, punctuated now and then by a rural mailbox fronting a house trailer or a run-down farm. He passed a sign that said ROPER COAL: COALTON COUNTY WORKS, pointing down a more substantial side road. And, later, a prosperous-looking horse farm with brick gateway pillars and a sign, in a rope-like script, BRY-SON ARABIANS.

  Somewhere along here was the turnoff to Booker Mountain. “Not well marked,” Seph’s directions said. By now, it was raining harder.

  After traveling a mile farther, he began to realize he must have missed the turnoff. He did a quick U-turn and drove back the way he’d come. Jason leaned forward, peering through the rain-smeared windshield.

  He rounded a curve and found the way blocked by a huge tree that lay at an angle across the road. He slammed on the brakes, skidding sideways in the wet gravel. The BMW came to a stop with its passenger door inches from the tree.

  Jason rested his head on the wheel, his heart thumping in his chest. A tree on the slope above must have lost hold in the saturated earth. It must’ve just happened, since the way had been clear moments before.

  Shoving the driver’s side door open, he climbed out into the rain on rubbery legs. If he wanted to go forward, he’d have to get the tree off the road. Wizardry was good for making people do what you wanted or for moving the more fluid ethers like water, air, and flame. He wasn’t sure he knew a charm for moving giant trees.

  Jason yanked the backpack from under the seat. Maybe there was something there that would help. Kneeling on the soggy ground, he sorted through the magical pieces he’d taken from the church. He had a dagger that would inflict a mortal wound (on a man, not a tree), talismans of protection that he was unsure how to use, an amulet that gave strength to the weary (maybe he could lift the tree off the road), and a scrying stone that blazed up oddly between his hands. Like a warning.

  There was something else, something unfamiliar, a small, flat metal object. He held it up to the light. There was a faint marking on it, like a stylized etching of a spider. How did that get there?