The Sorcerer Heir (Heir Chronicles)

by Cinda Williams Chima

  “It wasn’t you that did it,” Mickey said. “It was him. You were just a little kid.”

  “I know, but all this time I’ve been all high and mighty, telling people that I wanted the truth, no matter the cost, that I hated the lie. Blaming this person and that person for my troubles, never knowing that I had no business throwing rocks.” She’d thought she was cried out, but more tears escaped from under her lashes and ran down her face. Blotting at them with the backs of her hands, she said, “I just never thought that the truth would hurt this much. I don’t know how I can ever turn out to be a good person, seeing who I come from.”

  Mickey thought about this for a while, then shook a cigarette out of the pack and lit up. He took a deep drag, released a stream of smoke, then said, “You ever notice how sometimes, in the middle of July, right downtown, you’ll see a flower poking up through a crack in the asphalt. And you think, What a stupid place to set down roots. It’ll get run over, or it’ll dry up and blow away. But it hangs on, and it grows, and it blooms. Somehow, against the odds, it finds what it needs and it makes that place better for being there.” He looked sideways at Emma. “That’s you, Memphis. You’re a survivor.”

  Emma couldn’t help smiling, though there wasn’t much joy in it. “Why, Mickey, who knew you were a poet?”

  “I’m not a poet, but I know good when I see it, and I see it in you,” Mickey said.

  Emma thought about this one thing Tyler had said in the note he’d pinned to the binder of music.

  I like to think that there’s a little bit of me in you: a love of music and a stubborn streak a mile wide. But we’re different, you and me, and I don’t forget it. You’re strong, and you’re tough, and you tell the truth. You’re a good person, Emma. I’m none of those things.

  “You don’t have to go back up north if you don’t want to,” Mickey said, breaking into her thoughts. “But I think you might want to set things straight, because that’s the kind of person you are. You’re a quiet one. You keep to yourself, but when you do speak up, you tell the truth: in your music and every other way.”

  “Maybe,” Emma said. “But if I’m going to do that, I need to do it face-to-face. Not over the phone or by e-mail. They deserve the right to ask questions, or spit at me if that’s what they want to do.”

  But there was something else. She was trying to recall what Gabriel or Natalie or somebody had said about treating the Thorn Hill survivors. That because they didn’t know exactly what happened or what poison was used, it was like they were working in the dark. A spark of hope kindled within her. Maybe there was something in one of those notebooks that would help. Some clue that would help them get better, or at least hold their own. She stood, dusting off the seat of her jeans. “Can you help me carry these notebooks to the truck?”

  Mickey was big in the shoulders and arms. He could carry a lot at a time, but he moved slow. There was a lot to carry, and it was dark by the time they finished. She wished she had her cell phone so she could take pictures.

  Emma slept through the long drive back to Memphis, and then the two of them moved the boxes of records and notebooks from his truck to her car. It was the wee hours of the morning when they moved the last of it and stood awkwardly in the alleyway.

  “Why don’t you stay here tonight?” Mickey said. “I can make up the bed in that spare room, where you stayed right after Sonny Lee passed. You can get a fresh start in the morning.”

  Emma shook her head. “I’m going to hit the road,” she said. “The sooner I get moving, the sooner I’ll be there. And if I go to bed now, who knows when I’ll wake up.”

  “You know I start early,” Mickey said. “I can make sure you’re up.”

  “You know I’m a night person,” Emma said. “I like driving at night.”

  “You got your phone?”

  She shook her head. “I left that back in Cleveland. I was afraid somebody could trace it.”

  “I don’t like the idea of you driving that far without a phone,” Mickey said.

  “I drove all the way down here without a phone,” Emma said.

  “Well, be careful,” Mickey said. “And, remember—the offer still stands. I’d be proud to have you go in with me.”

  The Keep had been something of a fortress all along (hence the name), but now it was everyone’s job to make it that much more impregnable. Those Nightshade members who hadn’t been called in already were summoned home. Thérèse and Rudy went over every element of the digital security system, making updates and changes, destroying some electronic records and making others inaccessible. Mike and Alison went to work on the armory, making sure all weapons were edged and battle-ready.

  Jonah and Charlie were assigned to shred papers and help Natalie re-label materials in the pharmacy to hide the ingredients where that seemed prudent. They also locked a vast array of drugs away in Gabriel’s underground vault.

  “Cheer up,” Charlie said, looking sideways at Jonah. “I know this isn’t the most exciting job, but—”

  “It’s a waste of time,” Jonah said.

  “Is it?” Charlie said, sliding an armload into a Dumpster. “How so?”

  “We may be resistant to conjury,” Jonah said, “but this place isn’t.” He patted the brick wall with his gloved hand. “When the building comes down on us, a new security system won’t help us. We’ll be just as dead. I feel like the Three Little Pigs, barring the door before the wolf blows the house down.”

  “Would they really do that?” Charlie kicked at a chunk of ice. “Demolish this place, right here in the middle of the city?”

  “You tell me. You heard what they said.”

  Charlie thought a moment. “Yeah, I think some of them would, given the chance. But Madison Moss, the one they call the Dragon—she seemed to want to avoid a bloodbath.”

  “That’s surprising,” Jonah said. “Her little sister was among the dead.” His phone vibrated somewhere deep in his pocket. He ignored it.

  “She seemed sincere.” Charlie tugged his knit cap down around his ears. “If this is a waste of time, then what do you think we should do?”

  “If not for Safe Harbor, I’d say we should just leave,” Jonah said. “They can’t question anyone if we’re not here. If it weren’t for Kenzie, I’d be gone already.”

  “Where are we going to go? Brazil? That worked out well.”

  “I guess that’s not an option.” Jonah hesitated, then said, “Do you think if I confessed to everything and turned myself in, the mainliners would leave the Anchorage alone? I think that’s what Gabriel was hoping for.”

  “That depends,” Charlie said. “Are you guilty of every thing?”

  “Not everything,” Jonah said, hunching his shoulders inside his leather jacket, shaking snow from his hair. “Some things.”

  “It might work,” Charlie said, “or it might not. I think this attack has been brewing for a good long time, and I think some people are keen on it for political reasons. The thing is, if you confess to something you’re not guilty of, you can’t take it back if it doesn’t work.”

  It might be worth it, Jonah thought, if I knew it would protect my friends and protect Kenzie, wherever he was. If he was still alive.

  By now, Jonah’s phone had gone off, several times. Now a familiar ringtone sounded. Jonah hurriedly dug out his phone and scanned the screen. It displayed a map of the campus, with a bright, pulsing light in one corner. Jonah zoomed in. The Infirmary.

  “I just realized, I’ve got someplace I need to be,” Jonah said. “I’ll see you later.” Spinning away, he tore down the street, weaving around pedestrians, faster than was safe on the slippery pavement.

  The Infirmary! Why hadn’t he thought of that? Because it was too obvious? Though it was intended for outpatient procedures, infusions, therapies, and the like, the building was linked to the medical network, and there were beds and other
equipment set up for patient care. Since the student population had dwindled, there were a number of exam and observation rooms on the rear wing that were rarely if ever used.

  Jonah entered the building from the rear, on the basement level, which was primarily used to store supplies and unused medical equipment. As he loped up the steps to the main floor, his phone sounded again. You’re getting warmer.

  The rear hallway was dark, and at first Jonah guessed he was in the wrong place. Until, at one end, he saw that makeshift signs had been mounted on the double doors. KEEP OUT. RADIATION DANGER. When he tried the doors, they were locked, but a second later he heard a soft click as the electronic lock disengaged.

  Cautiously, Jonah stepped through. A young man he’d never met sat alone at the nurse’s station, head bent over his tablet, so engrossed in it that he hadn’t heard Jonah come in.

  Jonah scanned the unit. Only one of the rooms had a live display. All the other doors were open. That door was closed.

  Jonah circled around to the closed door. Cautiously, he tried the door. Locked.

  He looked down at his phone. You’ll have to get the key from Mikito. Careful. He’s quick and cagy.

  Mikito was quick and cagy. But he was no match for Jonah. In no time, Mikito was stowed in the supply closet, and Jonah was fitting the key into the lock.

  Standing to one side, Jonah pushed the door wide open and peered around the door frame. There was Kenzie, in the chair next to the bed, dressed in a sweatshirt and jeans, headphones slung around his neck, grinning.

  “Took you long enough,” Kenzie said.

  Jonah took a step forward, but Kenzie put up his hand to stop him. “Watch this.” Gripping the arms of the chair, he planted his feet on the floor and stood.

  Jonah gaped at him. His brother was obviously wobbly, gripping the back of the chair with one hand, but he was standing up.

  “Okay,” Kenzie said. “I just wanted to show you that. You can go now.” He gestured toward the door with his free hand.

  Somehow, Jonah was across the room. He wrapped his arms around his brother and pulled him close. “God. Kenzie. That—that is so—remarkable.”

  “I am pretty remarkable,” Kenzie said. “Or what’s that PC term they use? Exceptional? Anyway. I’m going to sit down now. Despite those years of physical therapy torture, my muscles aren’t really up for this.”

  Jonah released his brother, and Kenzie sat down with great dignity. Jonah tried not to notice how amazingly healthy Kenzie looked. How free of medical paraphernalia. How much physical function he’d regained in a few short days. No. Not regained. Kenzie hadn’t looked this good since Thorn Hill.

  Jonah pulled up a chair and sat. “I assume that I’m seeing the wonders of blood magic.”

  “You would be right,” Kenzie said. After a long pause, he added, “I guess it’s kind of like eating sausage. You don’t want to think about where it comes from or how it’s made.”

  Jonah cast about for a different subject. “I can’t believe they let you get online.”

  Kenzie pushed his tray table toward Jonah. On it was one of the handheld electronic vitals monitors. “Did you know there’s a little computer inside every one of these things? It talks to all the other computers on the network.”

  “So I’ve heard,” Jonah said. “I assume you’ve had your way with it?”

  “That’s why they call it jailbreak,” Kenzie said, grinning. “It’s a lot more versatile than I thought.”

  “Mikito didn’t notice?”

  “All he knows is that the damn thing isn’t working. Speaking of, what’s going on? Rudy’s been beefing up the security system for the past few days. I can hardly find my way around anymore.”

  So Jonah told him. And as he did, Kenzie’s expression changed, morphing from thoughtful to alarmed.

  “You need to leave,” Kenzie said abruptly when Jonah came to a stopping point. “Now. It’s time to take care of yourself for once.”

  “We all need to leave,” Jonah said. “But there’s nowhere to go.”

  “There is for you.” When Jonah said nothing, Kenzie went on. “If you’re worried about money, I can get you some.” He flexed his newly functional fingers. “I have a great future in white collar crime. I promise, I’ll only target total assholes.”

  “I won’t leave without you,” Jonah said. He took a breath. “Is it—is it possible you could come with me? I mean, you look—”

  “No,” Kenzie said, without hesitation. “I’ve already written the end of that story, and it sucks. Remember the blowback the last time, when I took a single dose? If I quit cold turkey, it’ll probably kill me. And I’m not going to put you in the position of either watching me die, or going after blood magic yourself.”

  He stopped. Took a quick breath, let it out in a disgusted sigh. Their eyes met, Kenzie shifted his eyes toward the door, and that’s when Jonah knew. It was a setup, a trap, and Kenzie had just figured it out.

  “Do you think they know I’m here?” Jonah asked softly.

  “I don’t know. I would have said it was an honest hack, but maybe I’m just that predictable. It doesn’t matter. They would have brought us together eventually, so you could see just what the benefits would be if you play nice. And the price you’d pay for saying no.” When Jonah opened his mouth to protest, Kenzie said, “Don’t you see? If I stay and you go, somebody else has to deal with it—not you. And that’s the way I want it. Now. This conversation is over. You need to leave now while you still can.”

  Jonah tipped his head toward the door. “They’re probably waiting outside, anyway.”

  Kenzie shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

  “If I leave, what will happen to you?”

  “If you’re talking about Gabriel, I think he’ll keep me healthy as long as he can,” Kenzie said. “He has no reason not to, and I might still prove useful. If they demolish this place, obviously I’m likely to be adversely affected. As I would be if you stayed here with me.”

  Even though Kenzie was putting his usual spin on things, it did make sense.

  “I’ll think about it, I promise.”

  “Don’t think. Go.”

  “All right, I’ll go,” Jonah snapped. “Happy now?”

  Kenzie smiled. “Happy now.” And he did look happy—and healthy, his hollowed-out cheeks filled in, his face clear of pain for the first time in a long time. Even his red-brown hair seemed thicker, glossier.

  Is this just an illusion? Jonah wondered. Digging out his cell phone, he pulled Kenzie in close and took a selfie of the two of them, nearly cheek to cheek.

  They embraced again, and it felt bittersweet, like it might be the last time.

  “Let’s keep in touch,” Kenzie said. “Through the back door, of course.”

  But when Jonah walked back out onto the unit, Gabriel and Lilith were waiting for him in the deserted nursing station.

  “I see you’ve been visiting your brother,” Lilith said. “He looks fantastic, doesn’t he?”

  Fishing for compliments, are we? Jonah thought.

  “He does look fantastic,” Jonah said, folding his arms and broadening his stance. “Superbly exceptionally great.”

  Gabriel and Lilith looked at each other, as if they were the long-suffering parents of an unruly child.

  “Please,” Gabriel said, gesturing to an empty chair. “Sit. We need to talk.”

  “I’d love to, but I’ve got someplace I need to be.”

  Gabriel sighed, as if disappointed, and Lilith squeezed his shoulder. They seemed to have gotten past their little tiff over the mainliner murders.

  “Jonah,” Gabriel said, “we are facing the greatest crisis in our history since Thorn Hill. The future of the foundation hangs in the balance. We need you on our team. We can’t risk your behaving like a loose cannon when this thing goes down.”


  Jonah raked his hair back with one hand. “Do you really think I’m responsible for the murders at McCauley’s?”

  “It doesn’t matter what we think,” Gabriel said.

  “Yes, it does.”

  “Whether anyone here at the Anchorage is guilty of anything, the mainliners are coming,” Gabriel said. “This time we’re going to be ready.”

  “We had hoped to have the luxury of time to consider alternatives, before taking action,” Lilith said. “We’d hoped to do some preliminary testing, to see if there were a way to duplicate or otherwise maximize the beneficial effects of blood magic.”

  “Good idea. If it’s twice as effective, you’d only have to kill half as many people.”

  “But these new accusations have shortened the timeline and forced our hands,” Lilith continued.

  “I expect they would say that ongoing murders of mainliners have forced their hands.”

  “So we think we’ve come up with a plan that might offer a long-term supply and minimize bloodshed.”

  “Good,” Jonah said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll—”

  “You need to hear this,” Lilith persisted. “You’ll have a key role.” She paused, and when Jonah said nothing, added, “Don’t you want to save your brother’s life?”

  “No,” Jonah said. “I don’t want anything to do with you and your plans. I’m sick and tired of being used and lied to. I just want to be left alone.”

  “This is self-defense,” Gabriel said. “This is self-preservation. This is justice. Weren’t you the one who always asked why we didn’t target the guilty? Well, now we are.”

  “If you can point out the person responsible for Thorn Hill, I’m totally on board. Otherwise, what makes us better than them?”

  “Sometimes you have to make hard decisions,” Gabriel began, “Sometimes—”

  “Yeah, you make the hard decisions, but I’m always the one doing the hard thing,” Jonah said. “When the two of you were building your perfect assassin, you should have thought to install a killer’s heart.”

  “You’re right,” Gabriel said. His gaze flicked up, over Jonah’s shoulder. “Fortunately, that can be remedied.”