The Sorcerer Heir (Heir Chronicles)

by Cinda Williams Chima

  Emma gripped the arms of her chair. It was hard to resist going over and putting her ear to the door. This was Alison’s private business.

  Alison said something else Emma couldn’t make out.

  “No!” Gabriel said sharply. “The risk is too great. We’ll just have to sit tight. There is nothing more to be done right now.”

  Again, she heard Alison’s muffled voice.

  “Very well,” Gabriel said. “Meet me at the infirmary at six this evening, and we’ll see what we can do. But right now, I need to prepare for a meeting, and you need to get ready for class.”

  Emma heard a scraping as chairs were pushed back. She buried her nose in her magazine as the door to Gabriel’s office slammed open. She heard a quick intake of breath as they spotted her there.

  “What are you doing here?” Alison demanded. “Eaves dropping?”

  Emma looked up, and saw that Alison’s face was fish-belly pale.

  “N-no,” Emma said. It wasn’t like she was trying to eavesdrop. “I was hoping to talk to Gabriel.”

  “I was, too,” Alison said. “In private.” And she stomped out.

  Gabriel stared after her for a long moment, eyes narrowed, then turned his attention to Emma. “I’m sorry about that, Emma. Was there something you needed?”

  “I wanted to talk to you about making a change. But it looks like you’re in a hurry?”

  “No worries,” Gabriel said. “I have a few minutes. I just needed to end that last conversation.” He gestured to a chair. “Please. Sit.”

  So Emma explained what she intended to do, while Gabriel looked more and more annoyed.

  “I still don’t understand why you would choose to live in Trinity,” Gabriel Mandrake said, snapping shut his laptop. “It seems to me that the Anchorage is ideal for someone in your situation. You’ve only been here for, what, three months?”

  Emma picked at a scab on her arm. She could guess what he was thinking. You’re living in your own apartment for free. Meals and healthcare and tuition are provided. You’re attending a school that is designed to meet your peculiar needs. Why would you want to go somewhere you had to pay your own way? Are you crazy?

  Since Gabriel still seemed to be waiting for an answer, she said, “I’m not saying I don’t like it. It’s amazing, and I feel lucky to be here. The woodshop and the music program are—I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. I just need a little different experience.”

  “You’re not likely to be well-received in Trinity. Mainliners in general are not very accepting of our students. This most recent catastrophe has just added fuel to the fire.”

  Emma recalled Madison’s reaction to her being at Grace’s funeral. Still, she’d never in her life been sheltered, and she didn’t intend to start now. “I know. But I have a—a sort of sponsor there. Who has offered me a job and a place to stay.”

  “A sponsor?” Gabriel looked surprised. “Who?”

  “Alicia Middleton,” Emma said. “A wizard.”

  “And also one of those investigating the bridge incident,” Gabriel murmured.

  “Bridge incident?”

  Gabriel waved off the question. “What kind of job?”

  “I’m going to help with her aunt,” Emma said. “Do light housekeeping and cooking.”

  Gabriel slammed both hands down on his desk, making Emma jump. “So...let me get this straight. You are leaving the Anchorage in order to become a domestic servant for mainliners.” Something about the way he said mainliners hit Emma’s ears like the aftertaste of a bitter medicine on the back of her tongue.

  He hates mainliners, Emma realized, even though he tries to act like he doesn’t.

  Emma’s ironwood spine stiffened. Lifting her chin, looking Gabriel Mandrake straight in the eye, she said, “I guess that’s one way of putting it. I would call it honest work.”

  Gabriel released an exasperated breath. “I just hate to see someone with your talents being underutilized. If it’s a job you’re looking for, we’ve talked about your working with the music program here, and teaching woodworking skills to some of the students.”

  “I just need a change of scenery,” Emma said.

  “If you leave the Anchorage, do note I’ll have to report that you’re no longer under my supervision.” Gabriel’s voice was back to clipped and businesslike. And pissed. With her.

  This was what she’d feared: that he’d turn her over to Child Services. One thing would lead to another, and it would turn into a tangle.

  She collected her thoughts. “I’m not out to burn any bridges. It’s just...a lot of the students here have health problems. Well, I don’t. I mean, I’ve got problems, but I’m not sick. I need to get ready for a life after here.”

  Gabriel’s eyes narrowed. Pulling the laptop toward him, he popped it open, then keyed something in. He scanned the screen, frowning. “I don’t see any evidence of an admission health assessment.” He looked up at Emma. “Did you ever have one?”

  Emma shook her head, fear snaking through her middle. “I don’t need one. I’m fine.”

  “Even if you feel fine,” Gabriel said, “an assessment would alert us to any potential problems that might appear later on.” He tapped his fingers on the keyboard. “Did something happen with one of the other students? With Jonah Kinlock, perhaps?” Gabriel’s seemingly lashless eyes lasered in on her.

  Emma’s cheeks burned.

  “Emma,” Gabriel said gently, “there’s something you should know about Jonah that he will not tell you himself.”

  “I don’t really want to talk about Jonah behind his back,” Emma said.

  Liar, she thought.

  “Hear me out,” Gabriel said. “You will have noticed that Jonah is extraordinarily attractive physically, and irresistibly charismatic.”

  Emma had the sense that this wasn’t the first time Gabriel’d had this conversation. “Well,” Emma said, “that about sums it up.”

  Gabriel sighed. “Actually, it doesn’t. There’s a lot more to Jonah Kinlock than meets the eye. He was born an enchanter, you know.”

  “I did know that,” Emma said. “My father told me to stay away from them—that they can talk you into anything.”

  “Your father?” Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “I thought you lived with your grandfather.”

  “I did,” Emma said quickly. “But I used to see my father now and then—before he died. A long time ago.” Less talking, more listening, she scolded herself.

  “Well, your father was right,” Gabriel said. “Enchanters are persuasive. Jonah has special challenges, though, because of his history. His Weirstone is damaged.”

  Any pretended reluctance about talking about Jonah behind his back flew out the window. Emma leaned forward, her hands gripping her knees. “What do you mean? What’s wrong with him?”

  “As you’ve probably noted, he is physically gifted: extremely strong, quick and agile, with acute sensory perception, and, of course, an empath’s ability to read emotions.” Gabriel spoke about Jonah like he was a collection of abilities and features, strengths and weaknesses, and not a person. It hit Emma’s ears wrong.

  “So...that’s all good, right?”

  “Unfortunately, his touch is deadly.”

  “What?” Emma folded over like she’d been punched.

  “You’ve probably wondered why he wears gloves all the time.”

  “He told me his hands were disfigured,” Emma whispered. “But then I—then I saw them, and they were as beautiful as the rest of him.” So many puzzle pieces were falling into place now, forming a pattern that even she could figure out. “Why wouldn’t he tell me? It would have made everything so much easier.”

  Gabriel’s gaze met Emma’s. He’s reading me like a book, she thought. “Jonah prefers not to disclose it,” the sorcerer said, “because he can’t take the emotional
reverberation.”

  “The what?”

  “People are attracted to Jonah, then repelled when they discover his—his gift or disability or whatever you want to call it. Attracted, then repelled. It’s as if he has a contagious disease. Embarrassing for both parties, and Jonah feels every bit of it. Jonah would rather keep everyone at a distance, than to take that hit every time. Still, despite all of his efforts to be...disagreeable...people fall hard for Jonah and everyone gets hurt.”

  “Is it—” Emma’s cheeks heated. How to phrase her next question?

  “You’re wondering if every part of him is equally dangerous,” Gabriel said. “I’ve proposed doing some testing to determine exactly what his situation is, but he wants nothing to do with that. He doesn’t want to risk killing anyone else.”

  Emma looked up. “Anyone else?” She could barely force the words between her dry lips.

  “Jonah holds himself responsible for the death of his little sister back at Thorn Hill, before we were aware of the danger. She was a toddler at the time. He was just seven years old. He carries tremendous emotional baggage and guilt related to that.”

  Gabriel studied his hands. “Since then, Jonah’s gone to a great deal of effort to keep from killing anyone accidentally,” he said. “In addition to the gloves, he covers up as much as possible. He wears leather whenever weather permits it, even though fabric seems to provide an adequate barrier to the toxin. He’s extremely uncomfortable being touched, even through clothing. As you can imagine, skin-to-skin contact is terrifying for him.”

  Emma instantly recalled Jonah’s reaction that day they went back to Tyler’s, when Emma was crying and Jonah was trying to soothe her. He’d wrapped his arms around her and held her close, but he’d been stiff as a board, like he couldn’t wait to get away. Emma had assumed that it had to do with how he felt about her.

  At the party at McCauley’s, when they’d danced, he’d insisted that she keep her face turned away, had pressed her head against his shoulder.

  He was afraid I might try to kiss him, Emma thought. And that’s why he had told her that they could never be together.

  As if Gabriel had overheard her thoughts, he said, “Jonah has resigned himself to being...solitary. I guess what I’m saying is, don’t fall in love with him. It’s so easy to do, but he will break your heart, and I’d hate to see that happen. If putting a little distance between you helps, then take a break and move to Trinity. But I hope you’ll consider coming back.”

  Emma felt like she’d swallowed a stone of despair, and it had settled in the pit of her stomach. “And there’s nothing you can do? No way to treat him?”

  “I wish there were,” Gabriel said. “If we knew exactly what kind of poison was used, it would be easier to devise a treatment. I’ve devoted my life to trying to undo what was done to these children at Thorn Hill. Failing that, to provide a permanent home and meaningful work.”

  “What’s going to happen to him?” Emma whispered.

  “Well,” Gabriel said, “I thought Jonah would be a good candidate to succeed me as director of the foundation and the music promotion business. Aside from his...problem, he’s physically healthier than most of his peers, and his talents make him suitable to the job.”

  Emma got the message. Cross Jonah Kinlock off your list.

  But it wasn’t as if you could call it a list when there was only one person on it.

  Well, at least that had stopped the questions about why she was leaving—Gabriel assumed it was because Jonah had broken her heart. So she didn’t have to tell Gabriel the truth, that Jonah Kinlock was maybe a murderer, a murderer who could get in and out of any building whenever he pleased, who had all kinds of reasons for killing Rowan DeVries at the Halloween party and probably had tried.

  Gabriel sighed wearily. “Give Trinity a try if you like. I can get you some help moving your things. We’ll keep your room open for you, so feel free to leave anything heavy or bulky there. I would ask you to keep details about the Anchorage and what we do here confidential. Sometimes, the less the mainliners know, the better off we are.”

  “Thank you,” Emma said, relief washing over her. “Thank you so much.”

  Somehow, she’d pulled it off. She couldn’t help feeling sorry for this man who’d devoted the last ten years of his life to helping the survivors of Thorn Hill. And now someone—probably Jonah Kinlock—was doing everything possible to destroy what he’d built.

  For a moment, she was tempted to tell Gabriel Mandrake everything—about Rowan DeVries and her father and the fact that his protégé, Jonah, was probably behind the murders of mainliners.

  Why shouldn’t she? She could give over the responsibility for handling it to someone else. Someone who wasn’t in love with a murderer.

  Except for this one thing: she still couldn’t bring herself to believe that Jonah had killed Grace Moss. And if he didn’t commit those murders, maybe he wasn’t responsible for Tyler’s either.

  I need more information, she told herself, before I begin accusing Jonah Kinlock of anything. She tried to dismiss the notion that she was just postponing the inevitable.

  But then, just as she turned toward the door, Gabriel called after her. “One more thing. We still need to get you evaluated.”

  Emma shook her head. “No. I don’t go to doctors. They just find things that are wrong with you.”

  “Did someone tell you to avoid doctors sometime in the past?” Gabriel asked.

  “No!” Emma blurted. “It’s just—my grandfather Sonny Lee—he never went to doctors. If you don’t have insurance, you’re better off not knowing you’re sick.”

  Gabriel entered a few notes into the computer. “I’m not talking about seeing a doctor. Natalie will do the evaluation. It’s nonnegotiable, if you want to maintain a connection here at the Anchorage. I’m responsible for you, whether you’re here or in Trinity.”

  As he had five nights previously, the physically gifted, quick, and agile Jonah Kinlock prepped for the hunt. T-shirt, jeans, leathers overtop, Nightshade amulet—the amulet that enabled him to see unhosted shades. He missed the reassuring weight of Fragarach between his shoulder blades. But it couldn’t be helped. On these hunts, he was serving as bait, and a massive sword would send the wrong message.

  Charlie, Mike, Thérèse, and Alison were gearing up, too, only, unlike Jonah, they were armed to the teeth. All carried the shiv-launchers Jonah had first seen during the sweep of the Flats. They made Jonah uneasy. In the hands of a trigger-happy slayer, they could give the game away. If Lilith showed up hosted in a physical body, they wouldn’t do any good until the cadaver was out of the way.

  He hoped that Lilith would once again leave the cadaver at home. Then she’d be vulnerable to a quick strike from Jonah. And he could avoid the blowback pain of a shiv kill.

  Alison still seemed moody and withdrawn, even pricklier than usual.

  As if to compensate, the other three were joking around with a kind of forced cheerfulness, as if to say, This is serious work, but we shadeslayers, we’re full of camaraderie. And we love you, Jonah, even though you went a little crazy for a while and called us murderers.

  Jonah guessed they all had a little bit of that old bloodlust. Each of them longed to put the Lilith Greaves notch in their belts. Once she was out of the way, they hoped the shade army would disperse, and the slayers of Nightshade could go back to business as usual.

  Jonah wasn’t so sure. The murders had opened a wound in Trinity that wouldn’t heal up any time soon. Whoever set off the bomb at Safe Harbor would be incentivized to try again. Jonah could sense trouble brewing, but had no idea how to put a stop to it.

  You’ve kept too many secrets, Gabriel, Jonah thought. If mainliners knew what we were up against, if we’d told them the truth, if we’d partnered with them back in the day, we’d have some credit to draw upon. Maybe even allies going forward.
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  Thérèse put her hand on Jonah’s shoulder, squeezing it through the leather. “I know this is hard, to go out there unarmed. But we’re glad to have you back on the team, Jonah.” She smiled, the light illuminating her faded brown eyes.

  “Should we try a different part of town?” Mike said. “Maybe they’ve moved their headquarters elsewhere.”

  Charlie shook his head. “The Flats and the Warehouse District are still the hotspots for shade activity. We’ve been pushing pretty hard in downtown, and yet they keep hanging around. Maybe it’s because there are so many people on the street late at night.”

  “Should we try somebody else as bait?” Thérèse said. “Maybe they don’t want to tangle with Jonah again.”

  “No,” Jonah said, “I don’t like playing this part, but I’m the only one who can talk to them. They don’t target savants as a rule. They avoid us, in fact, but they need to go through me to get to Gabriel. Remember, even if we make contact, you may not actually get a kill tonight. You don’t make a move unless you have a clean shot, because I can’t play this same card twice. And I want you to hang back until I’ve had a chance to talk to Lilith.”

  The other four exchanged glances. He knew what they were thinking: (1) It didn’t take long for Jonah to start bossing them around. And (2) Gabriel had said not to give Lilith a chance to talk them into anything.

  She’s a sorcerer, Jonah thought. Or was. Not an enchanter. What’s Gabriel afraid of?

  “That seems risky,” Charlie said finally. “They’ve tried to kill you a couple of times already.”

  “If Lilith wanted to kill me, I’d be dead,” Jonah said. “She obviously wants to have a conversation. I want to know why.” He shrugged into his jacket. “Let’s go.”

  It was just after two in the morning—time for the bars to let out, yet the streets were unusually empty. A cold rain was whipping in off the lake, a rain that hit Jonah’s face like needles of ice. It might just turn to ice before dawn, he thought. He had to keep moving or freeze.