The Dragon Heir Read online

  Jack looked around. “Where’d it all—jeez, what happened?” He pointed to the solarium window at the top of the cliff. The glass had been smashed out as if by a massive fist, leaving the room open to the elements.

  Seph glanced up at the ragged hole, then back at Jack. “Somebody jumped,” he said, shivering a little, his eyes wide and haunted-looking.

  “Who jumped? What are you talking about?” Ellen sat next to Seph and put her hand on his shoulder, then yanked it back, sucking on her fingers. “Ouch! You’re really juiced, you know?”

  “The Roses sent another assassin last night,” Seph said. He rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “He had knives. I told him to leave and he . . . went through the window. He’s in the lake.”

  Jack dropped onto a stone bench, unsure what to say. “How many is that, now?”

  Seph shrugged. “Three. No. Four.”

  “This has got to stop,” Ellen muttered. “One of these days they’re going to get lucky.”

  “Maybe you need a bodyguard,” Jack said.

  Seph’s head came up. “And who’s going to do that? We’re spread thin enough as it is.” The lake wind stirred the trees overhead and the light played across his face. There was something about his eyes . . .

  “Have you heard from your mom?” Jack asked. “She and Hastings need to know about this.”

  “No,” Seph said. “Haven’t heard anything from her or Hastings. Don’t know how to reach them.” He paused. “Nick knows what happened. He came over last night, after.” His voice trailed off.

  This is crazy, Jack thought. Some sanctuary. If you want to kill someone badly enough, you’ll manage eventually.

  “How’d it go with Leesha?” Seph asked abruptly, obviously wanting to change the subject.

  “It was great,” Ellen said, pulling off her gloves. “We were bad cop and bad cop.”

  “We put on a lot of pressure, and she caved. We think,” Jack added. You could never tell with Leesha.

  “Does she know where Jason is?”

  “She says she doesn’t. But it turns out everybody who’s anybody knows Jason was at Raven’s Ghyll. D’Orsay. Warren Barber. God knows who else. She says if Jason’s missing, Warren Barber’s behind it. Barber said he was going to get the stuff back from Jason.”

  “Warren Barber?” Seph squinted at Jack. “What’s Barber got to do with any of this? I haven’t seen him since Second Sister. And how does he know Jason was at Raven’s Ghyll?”

  “Jason was spotted. And Barber and D’Orsay are partners now,” Jack said.

  “Partners?” Seph shed his distracted look. “What are you talking about?”

  “But wait,” Ellen murmured. “There’s more.”

  “Barber has the Covenant,” Jack said. “Leesha thinks he took it from Second Sister.”

  Seph looked from Jack to Ellen. “If he’s working with D’Orsay, and he has the Covenant, why haven’t they consecrated it?”

  Ellen shrugged. “Leesha doesn’t know. But everybody’s trying to get back what Jason took out of the ghyll.”

  They looked at each other wordlessly. “Why do you suppose that is?” Jack said finally.

  “Well, Jason said the Dragonheart was supposedly a weapon that could control the guilds or destroy them,” Ellen pointed out. “That’d be a good reason.”

  “How do they know that?” Jack persisted. “Jason said he dropped the book in the ghyll, but . . .”

  “So,” Seph broke in. “Leesha is working for Barber?”

  Ellen shrugged. “She was. But now she says Barber will kill her if she leaves the sanctuary.”

  “Leesha’s been hanging around the church,” Seph said. “Do you think she suspects where the stuff is?”

  “If she does, you know she’s been in and out of there already,” Ellen said. “I hope your wards did the job.”

  Seph stared at her a moment, then stood and crossed the terrace, snatching up a metal goblet from a tray on the garden wall. Raising it to his lips, he drained it, then set it down. He closed his eyes and concentrated, body rigid, lips moving silently.

  After a long pause, Seph opened his eyes. “There are fifteen wizards within the boundary, including Leesha. Barber’s not here. The crypt at St. Catherine’s is secure.” His eyes glittered green and gold, his pupils pinpricks of light. “Except for a few things Jason took a week ago, before he left for Coalton County. That makes me think he was planning something.”

  Jack blinked at him. “You’re on duty? You can tell all that from here?” Always before, Seph had been semifunctional when monitoring the magical barrier.

  “I’m not just maintaining the boundary. I’m watching the whole sanctuary. Hastings taught me how to do it.” And then, as if Jack had asked the unspoken question, Seph added, “I found a way to deal with it.”

  Ellen picked up the goblet and raised it to her nose, sniff-ing. Then glared across at Seph. “This,” she said, waggling the cup, “is a bad idea.”

  “What is it?” Jack took the cup from Ellen and passed it beneath his nose. A prickly heat ran up his neck and exploded through the top of his head. It was like sticking a finger into an electrical outlet. Or chugging brandy.

  “What is it?” he repeated, a little breathlessly.

  Seph remained silent, so Ellen answered for him. “Aelf-aeling. Roughly translated from the Anglo-Saxon, it means, burning mind. The common name is wizard flame. Where did you get it?”

  “Mercedes had some,” Seph said, shoving back his sleeves as if overheated.

  “She gave this to you?” Ellen asked, lifting an eyebrow.

  “Not exactly. I used to help her out with her extractions, you know. I know where she keeps her stuff.”

  “You’re not going to keep using it.”

  Seph twitched irritably, his hands opening and closing at his sides. “I don’t use it all the time. Only when I’m on duty. It lets me watch a hundred things at once. I can see a leaf fall in the park and keep tabs on Leesha Middleton and track an assassin when he’s stalking me. I’d be dead by now, otherwise. Plus I’ll know if anyone messes with the stuff in the church.”

  “What’s wrong with it?” Jack asked Ellen.

  “The name is fairly literal,” Ellen replied. “Mind-Burner. Wizards get addicted to it to the point that they can’t function without it. Use it long enough, and you go insane.”

  “How do you know so much about it?” Jack asked.

  “Paige and Wylie were into performance enhancers. They used to dope me a lot when I was in training.” Simon Paige was warriormaster for the Red Rose, and Ellen’s old trainer.

  “It’s just till the war is over,” Seph said, leaning against the wall.

  “When exactly will that be?” Ellen demanded. “It’s been going on for centuries.”

  “Does Hastings know about this? Or Linda?” Jack asked.

  “No. And they’d better not hear it from you. They’re counting on me to handle this, and I will. Whatever it takes.” Seph never raised his voice, but it was clear from the set of his shoulders that this issue was nonnegotiable.

  Usually wizard power, when it was noticeable at all, was a subtle thing. Seph was so hot, the air around him shimmered and his arms trailed flame, like iridescent wings.

  Ellen shook her head. “Doping will ruin your body, you know that? That’s one of the reasons the Weirlind died off.”

  “Look. I’m not an idiot. I won’t use it unless it’s absolutely necessary,” Seph said. “It’s just that . . . I haven’t been entirely . . . myself . . . ever since that thing with the painting.”

  “Painting? What are you talking about?” Jack asked.

  Seph looked like he wished he hadn’t opened his mouth. “I ran into a hex. In a painting. That’s all.”

  As if he thought that would shut off the questions.

  “What painting? Where?” Jack asked.

  “What kind of hex?” Ellen wanted to know.

  Seph sighed. “I thought Nick would’ve
told you. It was in one of Madison’s paintings. It kind of knocked me out. Made me really sick. But I’m getting better. I just need . . . a little help right now.”

  “How would a hex get into one of Madison’s paintings?” Ellen sat down on the swing, kicking off with her feet. “I never heard of that.”

  “Who knows?” Seph said.

  “How could a hex work here in the sanctuary?” Jack asked.

  Seph shrugged. “Nick thinks it might be some kind of elicitor thing.”

  Ellen planted her feet, bringing the swing to an abrupt stop. “Hold on. He thinks Madison did it?”

  “He’s just throwing out possibilities. We don’t know.”

  “Madison wouldn’t hurt you,” Ellen said with conviction.

  I hope you’re right, Jack thought. In wizard politics you always have to watch your back.

  Seph rose and began pacing. “I still don’t get it. Madison says Jason never showed. Something must’ve happened to him on the way down there. But we’re the only ones who knew he was going.”

  “Well,” Jack said reluctantly. “He has Linda’s car. Is it possible he might have just . . . taken off?”

  Seph swung around. “What?”

  “It’s no secret he’s been wanting to go back to England, you know, and . . .”

  “Jason wouldn’t do that,” Seph said dismissively.

  Okaaay, Jack thought. If Madison had hexed Seph, was it possible she had something to do with Jason’s disappearance?

  Jack knew better than to voice that theory aloud.

  “What about Maddie?” Ellen asked. “Is she coming back?”

  Seph shook his head. “She says she can’t. Not now, anyway.”

  Jack thought it best to change the subject. “So what do you think we should do? About the assassins, I mean?”

  “Everybody seems to know about the Dragonheart,” Seph said. “I can watch for magical activity, and do something if I see it, but anybody can walk into my house and try and kill me. Or walk into St. Catherine’s and walk out with the Dragonheart. There’s always the chance they’ll get away with it.”

  “That’d be a trick,” Jack said. “None of us can get near the stone without getting slammed. Plus isn’t the crypt totally warded?”

  “Too many things I didn’t think could happen are happening,” Seph said. “Like the hex.”

  “Not that it’s done us any good so far,” Jack pointed out. “The Dragonheart, I mean.”

  “And the sanctuary is open to everybody, technically speaking,” Ellen said.

  “That’s going to have to change.”

  They both turned to look at Seph.

  “We need to change the way we handle security in the sanctuary.”

  “How do you mean?” Jack asked.

  Seph released a long breath. “Wizards are collecting like vultures. The White Rose, the Red Rose, the unaffiliated. The Dragonheart must be drawing them here. It’s like something woke it up—and now it’s sending out a beacon. Wizards are constantly in and out of town, like they’re looking for something. I’m using mind magic to keep them away from the church. Like when Leesha was poking around in there today.

  “It’s delicate, though. If I’m too heavy-handed, it’ll draw their notice. If I lose focus, they’ll be into the church in no time. Meanwhile, I always have to watch my back. Nobody wants to close the perimeter, but I don’t think we have a choice.” He ran his tongue over his cracked lips. “I just . . . I just can’t do this much longer, and there are other things that need attention. As long as there was hope that no one knew about the loot from Raven’s Ghyll, fortifying the boundary would’ve only tipped them off. I think we’re past that.”

  “But how can we do that?” Jack asked. “It’s a town. Not a fortress. I mean, people commute to Cleveland and everything.”

  “We still let the Anaweir come and go. It’s risky, but we can’t help that. We build a Weirwall that will keep the gifted out. We’ll get the sorcerers involved. Mercedes can be in charge, she’s good with materials. We establish a gate, with gatekeepers.” He looked up at Jack and Ellen. “That would probably be the warriors, living and dead.”

  “Isn’t Mercedes tied up with the artifacts at the church?” Ellen asked.

  “We’ve catalogued everything we’ve been able to classify. There are still a few mysteries, but we’ve kind of run into a dead end.”

  Jack eyed Seph. “I still don’t see how that would work.”

  “I’m responsible for security within the sanctuary,” Seph snapped. “And I’m going to do whatever I have to.”

  Jack spoke into a dead silence. “You’re in charge of security? Says who?”

  “Hastings. He handed the responsibility to me, and I’m going to do my best to see it through.”

  “Why you?” Jack raised his hands in preemptive surrender. “Not that I’m disputing his choice, or anything.”

  “He’s been working with me all summer,” Seph said. “Well, when he’s been here. Him and Nick. Teaching me how to monitor magical activity within the sanctuary. And now that Linda’s gone . . . ”

  “No offense, but why not Nick?” Jack asked.

  “He and Hastings talked about it and decided it should be me. Nick’s got other things to worry about, I guess. He’s acting chair of the sanctuary board since my mother left, and he’s still working on the things in the church.” Seph glanced up at Jack and down at his hands. “I . . . I don’t really want it,” he whispered. “I . . . feel like it’s an impossible job, but if I mess up . . .” He shuddered.

  Jack shifted in his chair, remembering how Aunt Linda had handed him the knowledge of his warrior destiny, then left him to sort it out on his own. “What does Nick say?”

  “We talked about the wall, if that’s what you mean, and he’s on board with that. Especially after last night.” He hesitated. “You know, Nick doesn’t look so good. I’m wondering if his age is catching up with him. Or if his staff breaking had some kind of effect on him.”

  “Nick’s okay,” Jack said, too quickly. “He’s just working too hard, lately.”

  “It’ll be way easier once we get the wall up. I won’t have to do so much scanning. And we can boot out and keep out violators.” Seph flexed his hands. “I just wish we had more wizards to help. We could really use Jason back again. If . . .” Seph’s voice trailed off, as if he didn’t want to make their worries come true by speaking them aloud.

  No wonder Seph’s so stressed, Jack thought. “I know Madison’s been writing to you and all. But maybe we should send somebody else to Coalton County. You know, to see what’s going on,” he said. “Except it’s kind of like one of those horror movies, where they keep sending people to check on the missing guy, and they keep disappearing.”

  “Can’t we wait on the wall until Hastings comes back?” Ellen suggested. “By then we’ll be out of school.”

  Why are we talking about high school? Jack wondered. At this point, it’s pretty far down on the list.

  “We can’t wait any longer,” Seph said. “Like I said. There are fifteen wizards in Trinity at the moment. Any of them could be spies or assassins. And only three are on our side.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Boundaries

  The doors and windows of Trinity College’s McAlister Chapel shimmered with magical wards designed to exclude the uninvited. The portraits of James and Mallory McAlister frowned down from the walls, as if disapproving of the proceedings.

  There were probably three hundred people spread among the pews—disappointingly few, Seph thought. And they were mostly Anawizard Weir: sorcerers, seers, enchanters, and warriors. The elected board sat down front— the wizard Iris Bolingame, the seer Blaise Highbourne, and the sorcerer Mercedes Foster, of course. Plus the enchanter Akana Moon, who’d been with them at Second Sister. After her experience there, Seph was impressed that she was willing to sit as representative again.

  Nick had insisted on bringing Leesha Middleton, who sat off to one side. A
small group of unfamiliar wizards sat together at the back.

  Conversations in a dozen languages reverberated around the room. Shimmering ghost warriors in period dress slouched up the side aisles and peered down from the balconies.

  Well, we have the votes at this point, Seph thought. What we need are sorcerers to sign onto this project. He glanced down at the notes on the scrap of paper in his hand.

  “Let’s begin,” Nick murmured, touching Seph on the shoulder. The old wizard shuffled to the podium and gripped it with both hands. “Guildfriends!”

  Conversations died away.

  “Thank you for coming,” Nick continued. “Most of you know me. I am Nicodemus Snowbeard, acting chair of the board of governors of the sanctuary in Linda Downey’s absence. We’ve met as a board to discuss matters such as the development of emergency housing and language programs, to mediate disputes, and so on. But tonight we are here for a different purpose—to discuss a change in security procedures for the sanctuary.”

  He paused, scanning the room for questions, then continued. “Recently, we have seen an unusual influx of wizards into Trinity. They may be innocent tourists, they may be spies, or they may intend to make off with our arsenal of magical weapons. We don’t know. But redirecting them requires constant vigilance.”

  “What magical weapons?” demanded a twitchy-looking wizard in the back. “Where are they? Why weren’t we told?”

  “Wizards? Innocent tourists? Bah!” a young French seer in the front row said. A rumble of assent followed. “We should expel them all before they knife us in the back.”

  Ellen stood. “I’ve got more reason to hate wizards than most people,” she said. “But we need wizards to fight wizards, and they’ve got a plan. I think you should listen to it.” She glared at the crowd until the grumbling subsided, then sat down quickly.

  “All right,” Nick said, taking advantage of the lull. “Seph McCauley has agreed to coordinate security matters for the sanctuary. He’ll answer any questions you have.”

  Seph mounted the steps to the stage and sat down in a folding chair onstage. Conversations rose on all sides, beating against his flame-sensitized ears.