The Dragon Heir Read online

  “Nobody,” she said furiously. “You shouldn’t be in the barn at all. You know the hay gives you welts. Go away!” Jason thought for a moment she might poke him right back down the hole like a gopher in a cartoon.

  “I want a grill-cheese sandwich,” J.R. howled, seeing the last of Jason’s disappear. J.R. did, indeed, seem to be breaking out in red blotches all over his face, whether from hay or rage, Jason didn’t know.

  “You already had lunch, and I . . .” Grace began, but stopped, frowning, head tilted. Then Jason heard it, too, the crunch of gravel as someone drove into the yard.

  “Maybe Maddie’s back,” she said doubtfully. “But she said it wouldn’t be until real late.” She stood and carefully circled around the trapdoor to the window on the far end. She peered out, then looked back at Jason. “It’s a blond-haired man, all sparkly, like you.”

  Jason didn’t need to look to know it was Warren Barber. And he didn’t need to think about it to know that a magical duel would be no contest at all, considering the shape he was in. He wished he had the Dragonheart. A machine gun. Something.

  Bam! Bam! Bam!

  Grace was still watching through the window. “He’s on the porch, pounding on the door. He looks like he’s mad.”

  Jason staggered to his feet and nearly fell. He gripped the wall for support, and wondered how he would manage the stairs. “Is there a back door? Can we get out of here without being seen from the house?”

  Grace shook her head. “There’s a ravine. It drops to Booker Creek behind here. The barn door faces the porch.” She squinted through the glass. “Mama’s come out on the porch. She won’t be happy to be woke up.” She watched a minute longer, then said, “They went in the house, him and Mama.”

  Just let him look around and leave, Jason prayed. Just let Mama keep her mouth shut and not mention Madison. Can’t I be lucky, for once?

  “You two go on, get out of here,” Jason said to the kids. “Just run as far as you can out into the woods and stay there until someone comes to get you.”

  “Is that man after you?” Grace asked. “Is he the one that hurt you?”

  “Yes. Now, go on.” Jason slumped back down onto the mattress and put his head between his knees, trying hard not to barf the grilled cheese and soup. He was going nowhere. “I’ll hide up here. It’ll be easier if it’s just me.”

  Grace folded her arms and tapped her foot in a familiar, stubborn way. Just like Maddie. “He’ll look in here for sure.”

  “Will you go, already? If you stay here, you’ll give me away,” Jason said.

  “I promised Madison I’d take care of you,” Grace said. She looked out of the window again. “He’s coming.”

  Jason swore under his breath. Even if he made himself unnoticeable, there was convalescent crap all over the place. It was very obviously a sick room, just what Warren Barber would be looking for. Barber’d be expecting an unnoticeable charm after what had happened in the woods. Maybe he’d even brought glitter powder along to ferret Jason out.

  Jason slid himself back into a corner, gripping the sefa. “Come here,” he said to Grace and J.R. “Squeeze in next to me. I can hide all of us with magic.” He tried to sound confident, but who even knew if it would work, sick as he was?

  “Magic?” Grace rolled her eyes. “There’s no such thing. I’m not stupid.” She looked from Jason to J.R., her brow furrowing in thought. “I know!” A smile broke, the first he’d seen on her. She turned to her brother. “J.R.! Get in that bed. Pretend you’re asleep.”

  With two older sisters, it seemed J.R. was used to taking orders. He slid obediently under the quilts. By now his eyes were swollen to slits and he was scratching himself vigorously.

  “Hide,” Grace said to Jason.

  Great. She thinks we’re playing hide-and-seek. “Hand me that backpack,” he whispered. “Then keep still and maybe he won’t come up.”

  She handed him the backpack and sat down on the mattress next to J.R., waiting. Jason fumbled the zipper open and groped inside until he found the dagger he’d brought from Trinity, seemingly a century ago. Sliding the blade from its sheath, Jason gripped the knife in his good hand, crouched back in his corner, and murmured the unnoticeable charm. Maybe he’d be lucky, for once.

  “Hey,” J.R. said in a stage whisper, peeking out from under the blanket. “Where’d he go?”

  Grace clapped her hand over his mouth. “Hush!”

  Hinges screeched as the barn door opened beneath them. He could hear Barber walking back and forth below, cursing violently, kicking stuff out of the way. Jason held his breath. Then he heard the stairs creak as they took Barber’s weight.

  No. He couldn’t be lucky, not even once. He gathered his legs under him. Maybe the kids would distract Barber long enough to give him a chance. It was a magical dagger, after all. Maybe a scratch would do the trick.

  Grace gestured frantically at Jason. “You have to hide better than that! He’s going to see you.”

  Jason’s overtaxed brain struggled to make sense of it. He was unnoticeable, he was sure of it. Unless, in his debilitated state ...

  Barber’s head and shoulders appeared through the opening in the floor. He was trying to look everywhere at once, obviously anticipating an attack.

  “Hi,” Grace said promptly. “Are you Howie? I didn’t think you were coming.”

  Startled, Barber raised his hands to throw a charm, almost losing his balance and falling backward down the steps. Which would’ve been great. But he caught himself and said, “What the . . . who the hell is Howie?”

  “The new sitter. He was supposed to come today. I told Mama I could baby-sit my brother all by myself.” She pointed at J.R. “He’s sick. We’re playing hospital. Want to play?”

  “No, I don’t want to play,” Barber growled. His clothes were dirty and torn, and he was scratched and scraped up, like he’d been searching through the woods for several days. “I’m going to have a look around.” He heaved himself to his feet. “You seen any strangers around here?”

  “You mean, besides you?”

  Jeez, Jason thought, don’t antagonize him.

  Barber glared at her for a minute, then kind of relaxed, as if he figured she was too young to be an actual smart-ass. “Yeah, besides me. I’m looking for a guy about my age, about my height, too, but thinner. Dark hair streaked blonde. He wears an earring.” Barber touched his earlobe, in case she couldn’t figure it out.

  “Why are you looking for him?” Grace asked.

  “I think he might be hurt. That’s why I’m looking for him. To help him.” Barber bared his teeth in his blood-curdling smile, pale eyes glittering with malice. He apparently took Grace Minerva for an idiot. He didn’t seem to notice Jason in his corner.

  “I haven’t seen anybody. We haven’t been allowed to go anywhere since my brother got sick, ’cause it’s catching.” Grace pretended to spoon soup into the pretending-to-sleep John Robert. Her hand shook a little.

  Barber stomped around the room, peering into the rafters, shoving aside farm equipment, and inspecting spaces too small for Jason to fit in. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a pouch, and dumped something into his palm. Glitter powder.

  Barber suddenly flung the powder into the wrong corner, and it floated down, shimmering in the shafts of sunlight. Revealing no one.

  “Hey,” Grace said uncertainly, glancing at the corner Jason was hiding in. “What’s that stuff?”

  Barber ignored her, continuing to stalk around the room, flinging powder. Just a little closer, Jason thought, and I’ll have you before you have me. Maybe.

  Barber paused before one of the paintings, studying it, rubbing his jaw thoughtfully. Uh-oh, Jason thought. It was the inn at Second Sister, silhouetted against the dying sun, perched on the rocks overlooking Lake Erie. Site of the ill-fated conference. Barber frowned, as if trying to remember where he’d seen it before. “Who’s the painter?” he asked.

  “Me. Be careful that glitter stuff doesn’t get
in the wet paint,” Grace said. “Now sit up, Johnny, so I can give you your medicine.”

  John Robert obediently sat up, and Barber got a good look at his swollen eyes and red welts.

  “What’s wrong with him?” Barber demanded, taking three steps back.

  “It’s real catching,” Grace said, pretending to daub John Robert with a rag.

  Barber looked horrified. “Why? What’s he got?”

  “Chicken pox.” Grace shrugged. “He was vaccinated and everything. I guess it itches like crazy. Mama says I’ll probably get it, too.”

  As if on cue, J.R. sneezed wetly.

  Barber retreated hastily to the steps, then took one last narrow-eyed look around the studio. “You sure you haven’t seen anyone?”

  “Mama won’t let anyone in, since we’re contagious,” Grace said importantly. “I’m real surprised she let you in.”

  Ha, Jason thought. He’d be glad to visit the chicken pox or any other plague on Barber after what he’d done to him. Maybe Leesha’d catch it from him.

  Barber couldn’t leave fast enough. Jason heard him descending the steps, banging out through the barn door, then his car starting up. Jason waited until the sound of the engine had died away before he slumped back against the wall, trying to gather enough strength to make it back to his makeshift bed.

  “That was lucky he didn’t see you,” Grace said, glaring at Jason. “Why didn’t you hide?”

  “Well, I ...”

  “Who are you talking to, Grace?” John Robert erupted out of the quilt. “Where did that man go?”

  Jason looked from Grace to John Robert, back to Grace. He disabled the unnoticeable charm. John Robert flinched back, but Grace didn’t react.

  Ah, Jason thought. Elicitors may be rare, but they come in bunches.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Arrivals and Departures

  After the trauma of lunchtime, Jason slept most of the afternoon. He half awoke twice to the sound of car engines— Madison’s mother leaving for work, and Madison arriving back home. He woke up a third time when she switched on the light.

  “Hey,” she said softly, sitting on the edge of the mattress. “How’re you doing?”

  “I’ve been better,” he said. He managed to sit up. One of the yellow dogs was sprawled across his feet. His chest wound had been seeping and his T-shirt was stuck to it. He pulled it away from his body, gritting his teeth at the pain. “You?”

  “I’m good,” she said, fussing with the bedclothes, smoothing them down. She wore faded blue jeans and an embroidered white cotton shirt and multiple necklaces looped around her neck. Her hair was pulled back into a loose braid, exposing long, dangly earrings.

  “So, Barber was here.” She had this way of getting right to the point.

  He nodded. “Grace saved the day. She was amazing. She’s not afraid of anything.”

  Madison nodded. “She’s fearless, all right. It’s scary sometimes.”

  “You never said she was an elicitor, too.”

  Madison froze in mid-fuss, her eyes fixed on the quilt. “What are you talking about? She is not.”

  “Madison. Hello. It’s me.”

  “She’s not,” she repeated, louder.

  “Have you told her?” When Madison said nothing, he shrugged. “Guess not. She doesn’t seem to know anything about magic.”

  She finally looked up at him, her eyes darkening to a deep-water blue. “She’s not in this.”

  “Yet.”

  “Never.” Madison was like a person who presses her thumb over the hole in the dike while the water gushes through all around her. “You can’t tell anyone.”

  “Maddie, it was just dumb luck that Barber didn’t figure it out when he was here.”

  “That’s why I have to stay out of this thing. To protect her.”

  Then, all of a sudden, she was crying. Tears streaked down her face and Jason cast about for something, anything to say. “Um, hey, listen, Madison, I . . .”

  “It’s been hell around here, you know that?” Her voice rose and the dog stirred and opened his eyes. “Last year, somebody was setting fires all over the county, and everybody blamed it on us, saying we’re witches. Kids were teasing Grace at school. Her best friend’s mother told her to stay away from her. It got vicious. When I left, that finally died down.”

  She sniffled a little and dabbed at her eyes. “I was happy in Trinity. Then Second Sister happened. I can’t get involved with this. If they find out about Grace . . . My family—they’re all I’ve got.”

  “And now I’ve brought Barber down here,” Jason said, thinking of Leesha. “I’m really sorry.”

  “Do you think he’ll be back?”

  Jason shrugged. “He’s probably just checking everywhere close. I doubt he’ll be back, unless he finds out you live here. That would be too much of a clue.”

  “It still says Booker on the mailbox,” Madison said. “Everybody knows who lives here, though.” She paused. “So. What does Barber want? What are you doing here?”

  I came to find out if you’re working for the Roses, Jason thought of saying. Or, I came to spy on you. Or, I came to drag you back to Trinity, willing or not. Not that he was in any condition now to do that.

  So of course he said none of those things. “Barber’s looking for the Dragonheart. I guess he thinks I have it.”

  “But you don’t.” She slid a sideways glance at him, trying to act casual. “Is it ...is it still in the church?”

  “Yeah,” he said. She still wants it, he thought.

  “Any luck using it? Figuring it out?”

  He shook his head. He thought of saying, No, the thing bites me every time I try and lay a hand on it. But he didn’t say that, either. He still had hopes. “We’ve got the rest of the stuff pretty much sorted.”

  They both fell silent, checking each other out like candidates for the same job.

  “So,” he said finally. “You met with your art teacher?”

  She nodded distractedly. “My teacher from Trinity College. I met her in Columbus so she could look over what I’d done so far. She was there for an opening.”

  “So what’d she say?”

  She stared at him a moment, then reached forward and grabbed the front of his T-shirt and pulled his face perilously close to hers. “Jason Haley! You did not drive all the way down here to ask about my homework!” And she gave him a little shake.

  “Easy! I’m an invalid, you know,” he said, and she let go of him. “I came because someone broke into your room at the Legends and tore it all up.” He watched carefully for her reaction, and got basic bewilderment.

  “Why would anyone do that? There’s nothing there to steal.”

  “It was a wizard,” Jason went on. “Seph thought it might have been the Roses.”

  “The Roses! Why would they break into my room?”

  “They might be trying to find you,” Jason suggested. “You sure there wasn’t anything there worth stealing?” And then, on impulse, asked, “Did you leave any of your paintings behind?”

  Madison turned a kind of skim-milk color, revealing freckles Jason hadn’t even known were there. “Paintings?Well, I didn’t ... I mean, I ...”

  Jason stared at her. “It’s not a hard question.”

  “No, but . . .” She swallowed hard. “I don’t think I left ...anything. Why do you ask?”

  “Well, Seph took a look around, but he couldn’t tell if anything was missing.”

  Now Madison looked positively panic-stricken. “Seph was in my room?”

  “Well, yeah, he and Nick . . .”

  “Seph and Nick? What were they doing? How did they get in there?” Madison leaned forward.

  “Um. I guess Rachel asked Seph to come over. Actually, she thought maybe you two had a fight, and he trashed your room for revenge.”

  Madison laced her long fingers together. “Did they . . . did they mention seeing any paintings?”

  Damn, Jason thought. I don’t believe it. She’s tota
lly guilty. She knows that painting was bad news.

  But if she meant for Seph to find it, why is she acting so freaky? Was she going to give the thing to somebody—some coconspirator? Did she have a plan for it and now it’s messed up? If it’s messed up, do I want her to know it’s messed up?

  “Jason?” Madison was staring at him, biting her lip, waiting for some kind of response.

  Acting on instinct, he shook his head. “No, he didn’t say anything about a painting. Why? Is one missing?”

  “Um, no,” Madison said. “Just wondered.”

  She was absolutely hopeless as a liar. There was something wrong with this whole picture of Madison as secret agent or assassin. Like maybe he’d put the puzzle together by forcing the pieces in a way they were not meant to go.

  They avoided looking at each other.

  Finally, Madison spoke. “So. You came all the way down here to tell me about . . . about a burglary?”

  “Well, ah ...pretty much.” Jason cleared his throat. “Seph wants you to come back to Trinity. He’d . . . like to keep a better eye on you.” Well. That was true enough.

  “What?” She sat down on the floor next to the mattress, wrapping her arms around her knees. “Did anyone think of asking me about it?”

  “He doesn’t think it’s safe for you to be down here on your own.”

  “I’m sorry, Jason, but I really don’t think anyone’s out to get me.”

  Well, no, not if they’re coconspirators. Another puzzle piece jammed into place.

  “I’m safer here than there, anyway,” Madison went on. “If someone could break into my room with Rachel on guard, they could do anything else they wanted, too. If a stranger showed up in Coal Grove, he’d be noticed in a hot second. The only wizards I know of in the whole county are you, Warren Barber, and Brice Roper. And Barber followed you down here.”

  Jason blinked. Grace had mentioned that name. “Who’s Brice Roper?”

  “A jerk and a liar. He lives at the base of the mountain. He has horses.” She seemed to think that was word enough on Brice Roper because she clamped her mouth shut, and Jason felt sort of sorry for Brice Roper, whoever he was.