The Heir Chronicles: Books I-III

  “Since then, the Roses have been conspiring, trying to figure out how to retain control of the Hoard and regain control of the other guilds.” He paused. “You know about the other guilds?”

  Seph nodded. “Sorcerers, seers, warriors, and enchanters. I know a lot about sorcerers. Less about the others.”

  “They’ve been dominated by wizards, because wizards can shape magic with charms. But they each have their own special talent. Sorcerers are good with materials, magical objects, potions, plants, and like that. Seers have the gift of prophecy. Warriors kick butt in a fight. Enchanters . . .” Here he smiled dreamily. “Enchanters have the gift of charisma. They cloud the mind and stimulate the—ah—senses.”

  “Okay.” Seph had never heard the guilds described in just that way before.

  “I’ve never met an enchanter,” Jason said, rather wistfully. “So. The Roses have established something called The Council of Wizards, supposedly to facilitate planning of the Interguild Council required by the new rules.

  “There’s also an underground interguild network led by someone called the Dragon. They’ve managed to keep the Roses occupied fighting among themselves. They intercept messages, plant false ones, blow things up. After the council refused to give up the Hoard, the Dragon’s operatives began raiding weapons caches all over the world. When I get out, I’m joining up with him. Or her. I figure any enemy of Leicester is an ally of mine.”

  “So is Leicester working for the Roses?” Seph asked. “I got the impression he’s not.”

  “Leicester’s in league with another powerful wizard, name of D’Orsay, who is Gamemaster of the Council. They have meetings up here sometimes. They’re planning something, and you know it has to involve the alumni. It may be the wizard wars, all over again.”

  “How did you end up here?” Seph asked.

  Jason hunched his shoulders and looked away. “I’m the product of a mixed marriage. My mother was a hedge wizard—an expert in spirituality and Old Magic. My father was Anaweir. He wasn’t exactly okay with the occult, so she downplayed her gift. When I came along, she taught me some easy charms, how to use talismans, kids’ stuff, mostly. It took me a long time to understand that the magic was in us and not in the tools and incantations.

  “She died when I was thirteen. Really young for a wizard.” He seemed to be picking his way carefully. “Anyway, my father remarried, this time to an Anaweir woman. They were happy, but I was pissed off. My mom had dropped this big load on me and there was no one I could talk to, no one to teach me. I didn’t get along with my stepmother.”

  His face twisted, a recollection of old pain. “They both acted like I was crazy or dangerous or something. They were probably right. I knew how to stay out of trouble, but I didn’t. The courts got involved. So they sent me here. I actually thought it might be . . . better. To get away, I mean.” He laughed bitterly. “I was wrong.”

  “How long have you been here?”

  “I’m a senior. I came midway though my junior year.”

  “Why’d you come back?” Seph demanded. “I’d do anything to get out of here.”

  “I never left. He kept me here all summer, some bull about making up work in summer school.” Jason rolled his eyes. “That was a treat. Me and Leicester and the zombies in the Alumni Club. He got to me too late. I know too much about Old Magic to agree to any kind of linkage.” He fumbled in his jacket pocket, pulled out a pack of cigarettes. His hands shook, and it took him three tries to strike a match. The flame threw the angular bones of his face into sharp relief. “See, I’m like you, Seph. Nobody’s got the frickin’ porch light on for me.”

  There was nothing to say to that, so Seph didn’t say anything.

  Jason waved away the smoke and the sentiment. “Whoa. Didn’t mean to get maudlin. Anyway. I’m not staying much longer. I’m here for two reasons. For one, I’m teaching myself wizardry, and their library is amazing. Secondly, I’m trying to find out what D’Orsay and Leicester are planning. If I want to join the Dragon, I figure I’d better bring something to the table.”

  Seph studied him skeptically. “How are you going to get away? I’ve been trying to leave since September. Even when I make it to the edge of the campus, I can’t get past the wall.”

  “It’s a wizard wall. A magical barrier. You’ll never get near enough to climb it, and forget about finding the gate.” Jason seemed to relish the role of expert.

  “So how are you going to get out?”

  “That’s one of the things I’m researching. That bastard won’t keep me here when I’m ready to go.” Jason had a reckless confidence that Seph envied.

  Seph sorted through his mental list of questions. “If your mother was a wizard, that is, if women can be wizards, then why would Leicester start a boys’ school?”

  Jason snorted. “Probably has more to do with Leicester’s attitude toward women than anything else. Not exactly collegial, if you know what I mean.”

  “How’d you do that thing in the library? The invisibility thing.”

  “Unnoticeable. It’s a charm that acts on the observer. A subtle difference. What’s invisible? You? Your clothes?

  The stuff you’re carrying around? The unnoticeable charm requires a talisman. An artifact of magic. Barber and Conroy didn’t notice us, but we were unchanged. The only thing is, you can’t cast spells while you’re unnoticeable. Because charms are noticeable, of course.”

  Of course. “How does Leicester do it? The nightmares, I mean?”

  Jason shrugged. “He’s a wizard. It’s a charm of some kind, probably a spoken one. It wouldn’t be too hard, I guess, since it’s used against people with no training.”

  “I don’t get it. He’s a trained wizard. There’s got to be another way he can get what he wants.”

  “He can use High Magic to make you crazy, but not to make you submit. Linkages are tricky. They have to be voluntary. Plus, linkages go both ways. So there’s always the chance that he’ll encounter a wizard more powerful than he is, and then he’d be toast.” At Seph’s blank look, he added impatiently, “This is Old Magic. He uses it because other wizards aren’t familiar with it, but he’s not an expert, either.”

  “What’s the difference between Old Magic and High Magic?”

  “Old Magic is more basic, hedge wizards and backstreet conjurors use it. There’s a lot of blood sacrifice and whatnot.”

  “He has this staff he uses in the ceremony.”

  “Yup. Probably has a magical element in it. You know, a dragon scale or something.” Seph couldn’t tell if he was joking or not.

  Seph stuffed his frozen hands into his pockets. “What happened with Sam and Peter?”

  “Sam and Peter.” Jason looked away and kicked at an icicle on the underside of the bench. It exploded into shards of glittering ice. “I had this idea for a coup. I mean, you could tell the alumni were miserable and the Anaweir were scared. I figured if we all joined together, we could win.

  “Peter was the only other gifted student who hadn’t joined. Sam was Peter’s best friend. Anaweir, but fearless. They were up for it.” Jason fell silent for a moment, staring bleakly out into the seats.

  “It was doomed from the start. The alumni are totally under Leicester’s control. Magically, at least. Worse than useless. Someone told Leicester. He threatened to kill Sam, and Peter caved and agreed to link.” Jason smiled bitterly. “Afterward, Peter needed to be taught a lesson and Sam was expendable, so they killed him.” He looked up at Seph. “And, no, I can’t prove it. But it’s true.”

  “What’d he do to you?” It seemed like a personal question, but Seph had to ask.

  “Well. He didn’t kill me. I’m too valuable an asset, potentially, at least. And he and his buddies are leery about physical punishment that leaves evidence. But as you know, he can be very creative.” Jason swallowed hard and stared down at the snow.

  Seph shuddered, looking about the chapel. “How do you do it? How’ve you lasted so long? He’s been at me night
and day with dreams and hallucinations. I’m literally going crazy. I don’t know how much longer I can take it.”

  It didn’t make him feel any better to know that Leicester would be back in a few days.

  “You promised you wouldn’t give in, remember? We’ll both be screwed if you do.”

  “I’m doing the best I can.”

  Jason smoked in silence for a few minutes, flicking ash onto the snow. He seemed to be grappling with an important decision. Finally, he shrugged. “Okay. I’m already halfway in, I might as well go all the way.” He stared up at the sky. “Look, Seph, I can teach you how to deal with the dreams. But if Leicester finds out I’m helping you, we’ll both end up in his zombie army.”

  Seph straightened, suddenly hopeful. “If I could just get some sleep, I think I could hold out indefinitely,” he said.

  Jason took a long drag on the cigarette, released a spiral of smoke. “How do I know you’re not a spy for Leicester?”

  Seph shrugged. “I was thinking the same thing about you.”

  Jason put his hand on Seph’s shoulder and stared into his eyes.

  “I’m guessing you’re for real,” Jason said finally. “You don’t have that dopey look I’m used to seeing. All right.” He stood, grinning crookedly, and stubbed out the cigarette. “Now I’ll take you to my lair.”

  They walked back through the woods toward the Alumni House, following the path Seph had broken through the snow on his way out. When the wind caught the tops of the pines, snow cascaded down around them, some of it finding its way under the collar of Seph’s jacket. Under the clear sky, the heat of his body bled away, leaving him shivering. Jason’s light jacket hung open, and he didn’t react to the cold at all. He stopped just inside the edge of the trees.

  “Hold on to my arm, and be quiet.” Jason muttered his words of magic and disappeared, but Seph could still feel his arm under his fingers. “No one will notice you, either,” the voice said. The invisible, or rather, unnoticeable Jason led Seph out of the woods and across the lawn to the Alumni House. They entered the front hallway and passed through the common room. Martin and Peter were sprawled in front of the TV, playing cards, but they didn’t acknowledge their passage. Jason led Seph to the staircase at the back of the building, and then down the steps to the basement.

  There were workout rooms at the base of the stairs, then more offices and storage rooms. Jason went on past them down two intersecting corridors to a door at the end. The door opened, and he was propelled inside. The door slammed shut behind them, and a bolt slid home on the inside. There was more scrambled Latin, and then Jason reappeared, laughing at the startled expression on Seph’s face.

  “If they have cameras everywhere, aren’t you afraid we’ll be spotted in here?” Seph asked, looking around the room.

  “Oh, I handled that. I’ve provided them with an alternate sound and video. Wizards call that a glamour. It’s a sensory charm that works whether you’re there or not.” Jason hit a button on his CD player and music erupted from the speakers. Despite being in the basement, his room was comfortable. He had his own refrigerator and private bath. Ceramic tile covered the floor, and rows of bookshelves, mostly empty, lined the walls. A computer desk stood against the far wall. The open walls were papered with music posters. Jason pointed to an upholstered chair. “Have a seat.”

  Seph dropped into the chair. “Why are you staying over here if you’re not one of the alumni?”

  “Leicester needs to keep me away from newbies like yourself. They think they can keep track of me better. As far as they know, I spend most of my time sulking in my room.” He opened the refrigerator and rummaged inside. “Want something to drink?”

  “Soda’s good.” Seph accepted a can of orange.

  Jason sat down on the bed and gestured toward a CD rack next to the sound system. “Pick out something else if you don’t like Irish punk.” There was an eagerness about his hospitality that suggested Jason had been lonely, too.

  “This is fine.” Seph gestured at his surroundings. “Nice place.”

  “For a prison.” Jason leaned forward. “Now, about your dreams. If I teach you how to block them, there can’t be any change in your behavior. Do you understand? You’ve got to convince him that you’re still at the end of your rope and beginning to swing. If you start bopping around campus, chipper and carefree, he’ll know something’s up.”

  “I don’t think there’s much chance of that.”

  “The thing is, you have to follow directions, or you may end up dead.” Jason slipped his hand into the neck of his shirt and pulled out an object attached to a chain around his neck. He lifted it over his head and handed it to Seph.

  It was a stone circle, heavier than Seph expected from the size of it, in a flat black color. It was covered with faint markings scratched into the surface. There was a sense of depth to it, as if he were looking through a window. But when he peered through the center, he was looking into . . . nothing. When he passed his hand behind it, there was still nothing.

  “What is it?” he asked, trying to hand it back to Jason.

  The other boy shook his head. “The general term is dyrne sefa, meaning heartstone, or secret heart. They are objects that act as assist devices to the gifted,” he said. “They were made by sorcerers a long time ago. They’re the experts when it comes to materials. But no one knows how to make them anymore.”

  He sailed on, warming to his topic. “This one is called a portal. It’s a piece from my mother’s collection. It’s very old magic. Not well known today. I don’t even know all the things it can do. And I can guarantee you there’s nothing in the alumni library about it. Dr. Leicester thinks of himself as a scholar, but he dabbles in things he doesn’t understand.” Jason snorted in disgust.

  “Really?” Seph touched the talisman with his forefinger as if it might bite.

  “Portals are used for illusion and spiritual travel. I use it to cast the unnoticeable charm. Dreams are just a kind of brain chemistry. You’re going to use this to step away from your body so you can escape Leicester’s enchantments. I’ll go over the charm with you until you get it right. Put the portal on the table while you practice.

  We don’t want any screwups.”

  Seph hastily set the piece down on the table, resisting the urge to wipe his hands on his jeans.

  In terrenus sanctum. The charm was a kind of bastard Latin. It wasn’t too difficult. He had always had a facility with languages, anyway. It didn’t take him long to master the incantation. He had to say it five times correctly before Jason was satisfied.

  “What does it mean?” Seph asked.

  “Into the sanctuary,” Jason replied. “The way I understand it, you’re retreating into your Weirstone. Where Leicester can’t intrude. The talisman allows you to go and return. Before you go, you need to decide when you want to return. If you don’t, well, you never come back. Okay, put it on under your shirt,” he said, gesturing toward the dyrne sefa.

  Seph scooped the portal from the table and dropped the chain over his head. He shoved the stone into the neckline of his sweatshirt so it rested against his chest. He expected it to be cold, but it felt warm and heavy against his skin.

  Jason pointed to the bed. “Now lie down here and tell me how long you want to sleep.”

  “Do we have to do this now?” Seph assumed the position anyway.

  “No worries,” Jason whispered. “Trust me.”

  “An hour, then.”

  “An hour.” Jason ran his finger over the runes on the dyrne sefa. “These can be read as numbers, if you know how to read them. For example, this is a one. You can choose one, two, three hours and so on. I can do it in the dark, but I don’t recommend you try.” He grinned. “Wizardry is a kind of anti-tech thing. Meaning it’s not that exact. But time passes quickly.

  “Now say the charm. You don’t have to say it out loud.”

  All right, Seph thought. Choose an hour and say the charm. He touched the stone circle as Jason ha
d done, found the symbol for one hour, spoke the charm carefully, moving his lips but not speaking aloud.

  Seph felt as though he had plunged into an icy pool. The shock of it drove the breath and blood from his body. Then the cold was gone and he was light, very light, a vapor, an idea in the void, a glimmer in the darkness. Free. He was conscious of a boundary, an enclosure, no more than a thickness of the air.

  He was aware of a spreading warmth, a tingling in his extremities, inrushing sensation. He opened his eyes to find Jason sprawled in the chair, headphones on, fingers steepled together, studying him.

  “It didn’t work,” Seph said.

  Jason laughed and pulled off the headphones. “You’ve been out for an hour. Check your watch.”

  Seph did. It was after nine o’clock. He blinked, opened his mouth, closed it again.

  Jason looked gratified at Seph’s reaction. “Not exactly like sleeping, but close enough. You get some rest. Your mind is safe from Leicester.”

  “And you can do this for eight hours?”

  “Or ten,” Jason said. “Here, I’ll show you.” He pointed out the relevant symbols on the portal. “Only, best if no one finds you’ve checked out, since you’ll look like you’re dead. So you’ll want to lock up before you use the charm, and don’t plan on sleeping too long.”

  Jason was right, Seph thought. Sleeping without dreaming. It was a miracle. Only, he wouldn’t be sure until he tried it overnight. His hand found the stone, traced the shape of it under his sweatshirt. “Do you have any more of these?” he asked, feeling hopeful for the first time in a long while.

  “Keep that one. I have something else I can use. Just don’t lose it. Like I said, they don’t make them anymore.” He frowned, biting his lower lip. “We’ll need to build a glamour so Leicester’s convinced you’re still dreaming.”

  Seph straightened. “I thought you didn’t know much about wizardry.”

  “My mother specialized in illusions, glamours, spirituality, traveling around outside the body using talismans,” Jason replied. “I grew up on this stuff. Unfortunately, she never taught me much about how to kill people.” Seph looked up, startled, but Jason was staring down at his hands, and Seph couldn’t see his expression.