The Wizard Heir

  “I was just trying to get back to town, and I got tangled up.” Ellen assumed what she hoped was a blank, stupid expression. She’d spent a lifetime lying to wizards. Their arrogance made it a lot easier.

  “What’s this?” The wizard gently freed Ellen’s sword from the tangle of vines and examined it, turning it to catch the light. He took a few practice swings, handling it like a golf club. “This is awesome. Where’d you get this?”

  “I bought it off a dealer.”

  “Do you have any more pieces like this?”

  Ellen shook her head, watching the wizard brandish the sword and wishing she could get her hands on it.

  “What are you, a sorcerer?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  The wizard rolled his eyes. “Right. What’s your name?”

  Not a good idea to give a wizard identifying informa-tion. “Nikki. With two k’s and an i. What’s yours?”

  “Warren Barber.” He eyed her suspiciously. “Look, sweetheart. I know something’s going on. Fires. Explosions. People running around with magical swords. Old men in sports cars.”

  “It’s been like this ever since they set up the Sanctuary. It attracts all kinds of riff-raff. It used to be a nice little town.” She looked up at him. “Now. Could you get me out of this web?”

  Barber carefully set the sword down out of Ellen’s reach, then began crooning charms, coaxing the cords away from Ellen’s body until her legs were freed. He left her hands securely tied. She extended her bound wrists. “What’s with this?”

  “I have a feeling you know more than you’re saying. I think with a little persuasion you’ll tell me what it is.” He smiled and extended his hands.

  Ellen knew well how painful a wizard’s touch could be. So much for peaceful coexistence. She bunched her legs under her and rammed her head into Barber’s face, feeling his nose crunch at the impact. She landed, rolling, and gripped the sword hilt with her bound hands. Swinging the blade upright, she thrust it at the wizard’s midsection, flames dancing eagerly at the tip. But he leaped back out of range, spinning additional cords from his hands that snaked around her body, despite her efforts to cut them to pieces. They constricted until she was totally immobile, and then Barber yanked the sword from her hands and set it aside.

  He knelt and leaned over her, blood streaming from his broken nose, pale face spotted purple with rage. He wrapped his hot wizard hands around her throat and squeezed. She twisted and turned under his weight, but couldn’t free herself. Spots danced before her eyes, then coalesced into darkness.

  Something thudded into them, and then the wizard’s weight was gone and her airway was miraculously open. Ellen sucked in great lungfuls of air until her vision cleared. She looked up to see Jack and Barber circling like fighters being paid by the round.

  “You all right, Ellen?” Jack asked, without taking his eyes off Barber.

  “I’m fine,” she croaked, feeling stupid, lying on the ground, tied up like a holiday ham. “Cut me loose when you get a minute?”

  Jack reached over his shoulder and drew his sword, Shadowslayer, with a delicious hissing sound. He stood with his feet spread apart a little, the sword pointed at the wizard.

  Barber took a step back, outside of the immediate reach of the blade, and swept his hand toward Jack. Flames sprayed at Jack’s face, but he parried them with his sword.

  Barber cast an immobilization charm, but before it was out of his mouth, Jack spoke the counter spell, stumbling over the words a bit. Barber licked his lips. “You’re a wizard?”

  “Maybe.” Jack stood in a ready position, his blue eyes hard and cold.

  Barber feinted toward Jack, then launched a gout of flame at Ellen. Jack threw himself into the path of the attack, shoving Ellen aside. Tongues of flame engulfed his sword arm. Shadowslayer slipped from his grasp, landing with a thud in the tall grass. Swearing, Jack leaped after his blade, but Barber spun out long cords that tangled in his legs and wrapped themselves around his body.

  Almost lazily, Barber raised his hands to deliver a killing blow. Suddenly a peculiar expression spread across his face. He swayed, then toppled forward into the grass and lay still.

  Finally free, Jack retrieved his sword and stood over the wizard, both hands wrapped around the hilt, the tip of the blade pressed into the back of Barber’s neck. But Barber was out cold.

  Seph McCauley materialized before their eyes, as if out of the air, holding a large branch like a baseball bat. When he saw that Barber was truly down, he tossed the branch aside. “Best I could do,” he said apologetically. “I can’t cast charms while I’m unnoticeable. Anyway, I don’t know a lot of magic.”

  “Well, obviously you’ve learned something,” Ellen said, extending her wrists so Jack could cut them free.

  “Not that I’m ungrateful, but what the hell are you doing here?” Jack demanded of Seph. “I told you to stay where you were.”

  Seph swept his hair out of his eyes. “Did you? I must’ve misunderstood.” He nudged Barber with his foot. No response. He looked around. “Hey, the wall’s down.”

  Ellen looked up. The wall was disintegrating, dissolving into tattered wisps of mist.

  “I guess it needs some sort of conscious attention from Barber to keep it intact.” Seph shrugged. “The other wizards will know he’s down. Now would probably be a good time to get going.”

  Reluctantly, Jack lifted his blade away from Warren Barber’s neck and shoved it back into his baldric. He was pale and sweating and obviously in pain. His forearm was blistered from wrist to elbow where Barber had flamed him.

  “That arm looks bad,” Ellen said. “Maybe Nick can take a look at it before your mom sees it.”

  They began walking toward town, this time crossing the fields and orchards unimpeded.

  Jack swiped sweat from his brow with the back of his good hand. “Who was that guy?” he asked Seph.

  “I went to school with him,” Seph said. “At the Havens.”

  “Must be a great place, the Havens,” Jack said sarcastically. He seemed to be in a foul temper, probably not improved by the pain in his arm. He glanced sideways at Seph. “I can’t understand why we’re getting involved in a fight between wizards.”

  “We’re going to be involved, whether we like it or not,” Ellen said. “You know that.”

  Seph scowled. “I don’t expect any of you to get involved. If I have my way, I won’t impose on you any longer.”

  It was full dark by now. They began walking along the highway toward the town center. They had walked perhaps a mile when they saw a car slow down and pull onto the shoulder. It was the black Subaru, with Nick Snowbeard behind the wheel and Linda next to him.

  “Hey!” Jack said, pulling a set of car keys from his back pocket. “How’d you start my car?” he demanded in mock amazement. “Do you even have a driver’s license?”

  “If I did, they would probably take it away after tonight,” Snowbeard replied.

  They drove to a pavilion in a park along the lakefront and gathered around a battered picnic table for the debriefing. Snowbeard kindled a wizard light in the center, casting a soft illumination over all of the participants.

  Linda leaned forward and squinted across the table, then reached out and gently touched Jack’s hand. “What happened to your arm?”

  They told Snowbeard and Linda about the encounter with Warren Barber.

  “Can you do anything for him, Nick?” Linda asked.

  Snowbeard studied the injury, then leaned toward Jack and gripped him at the wrist and shoulder, careful not to touch the blistered area. Power rippled between the old wizard’s hands, like a cool stream flowing over Jack’s skin. The blisters subsided, though the area was still angry red.

  Jack released a long breath and managed a grin. “Thanks, Nick. That feels a lot better.”

  “Less chance of infection now, Jack, but the area will be very tender for the next few days,” Snowbeard said. He looked at Ellen. “W
hat about you, my dear?”

  Ellen had a necklace of purpling bruises around her neck, but she brushed off Snowbeard’s question. Seph was getting the impression that she was not the kind of person who enjoyed being rescued.

  Jack turned to Snowbeard. “What happened with the other wizards? Where’s the Beamer?”

  Snowbeard smiled, rolling his staff between his hands. “I managed to bore quite a way into the web with wizard flame and what-not. Then I set off some spectacular fire-works. When the wizards arrived, we raced off in the car. They, of course, assumed it was Linda and Seph.

  “They were young and quite enthusiastic. We led them on a merry chase, but we never actually made it into the Sanctuary. So I parked at the mall out by the highway interchange. We went in and lost ourselves among the shoppers. The car’s still there.”

  “How’d you get back to town?” Ellen asked.

  “We found a kind family willing to drive us,” Snowbeard said blandly. “We told them we’d missed the last bus.”

  “We thought we’d have trouble getting through the Weirweb, but it was already down,” Linda added.

  “So,” Seph said. “What do you think is going on?”

  Linda cleared her throat. “Leicester wants you back. For some reason. Barber is working for a wizard named Gregory Leicester,” she explained to the others. “He was Seph’s headmaster at a private school up in Maine.” She slid a glance at Seph and he looked away.

  “Leicester is also on the Council of Wizards,” Snowbeard added thoughtfully.

  “They can’t be sure that Seph is here,” Linda suggested.

  “They’ve seen the Beamer,” Ellen said. “And they’ve seen you.”

  “They haven’t seen Seph, though,” Linda pointed out.

  Snowbeard said, “It occurs to me that there’s nothing to keep them from coming into town for a look around. And, depending on how you read the Rules of Engagement, they might be able to find a way to get you or Seph out of town by trickery or force as long as they don’t use magic.”

  “But I can use wizardry to defend myself, right? Assuming I can find someone to train me.” Seph shrugged.

  “I can teach you,” Snowbeard said, looking from Seph to Linda and back again. “Depending on what you want to learn.”

  “Great. Thank you.” Seph turned to Jack. “Um . . . where did you learn to use a sword like that?”

  “My teacher was a wizard named Leander Hastings,” Jack replied. “He specializes in training warriors. He taught me how to fight.”

  Hastings. “Does he live in Trinity?” Seph asked.

  “No.” Linda answered for Jack.

  “I’d love to learn how to fight like that,” Seph said.

  Linda put a hand on his arm. “Seph, you’re not a warrior, you know.”

  “Most wizards can get what they want without fighting anybody,” Jack said. He looked at his watch and shoved back from the table. “I’d better get home. I’ve got exams tomorrow.”

  “What are you two going to do?” Ellen asked.

  “We’ll stay at Jack’s,” Linda said.

  “Shouldn’t we call first or something?” Seph looked from Linda to Jack.

  Jack shook his head. “My mom’s used to Aunt Linda showing up unexpectedly. If she didn’t show up unannounced, she’d never show up at all.”

  “Don’t worry, Seph,” Linda said. “Believe me, she won’t have a problem.”

  When they returned to the car, Jack slid behind the wheel this time, shoving the seat back to accommodate his long legs. Snowbeard sat next to him, and the others climbed in back.

  “Snowbeard lives in an apartment over Jack’s garage,” Linda explained. “He’s kind of a part-time caretaker. He was Jack’s wizardry teacher, too. He’s been with Jack since he was a baby.”

  “If wizards don’t need to learn how to fight, what does a warrior need with a wizardry teacher?” Seph asked.

  “I guess you could say I’m kind of a mongrel,” Jack said, rolling his eyes. “A wizard with a warrior’s stone. Or a warrior with a wizard’s body.”

  Another long story, apparently.

  Jack and Ellen lived two doors apart on Jefferson, a brick street lined with tall shade trees and huge old homes set back on big, informal lawns. They dropped Ellen off first. The Subaru coasted to the curb, and Ellen climbed out and retrieved her sword from the trunk. A shadow detached itself from the darkness on the front porch of the house and came toward them.

  “Hey, Will,” Jack called. “Waiting up for Ellen?”

  “Hey, Jack.” Will leaned into the passenger window. “When I see Ellen charging out of the house with a big smile on her face, carrying her sword, I know it means trouble.” He was built like a football player, maybe a lineman. He had close-cropped dark hair and wore cutoffs and a tank top.

  “Aunt Linda!” Will had spotted her in the backseat. “I should’ve known. There must be sorcery afoot!”

  “Hi, Will,” Linda said.

  “This is Seph McCauley,” Linda went on, resting a hand on Seph’s shoulder. “He’s going to be staying at Jack’s this summer.” She said it as if it were a done deal. “Seph, this is Will Childers, a friend of Jack’s. I’m not really his aunt. Jack’s friends just call me that. Ellen moved in with him and his parents last year after Raven’s Ghyll.”

  Okay, Seph thought. Maybe that’s the way it is in small towns, everyone related to everyone else, living in each other’s houses. Maybe Trinity is just one big commune. He would try to relax and go with it.

  “Good to meet you, Seph,” Will was saying. “See you tomorrow, Jack. I’ll be by around seven.” Will and Ellen walked back toward the house.

  They drove past two more houses and pulled into a gravel driveway. Circling around to the back of a hulking Victorian house, they jolted to a stop in front of an old, detached garage. Jack shut off the ignition. Linda turned to Seph.

  “Jack’s mom—my sister—is Anaweir. She doesn’t know anything about this wizard and warrior business. Okay?”

  Seph nodded. “Got it.”

  Jack retrieved his sword from the trunk. Snowbeard said good night and slowly mounted a staircase to the second floor of the garage. A moment later, a light kindled in the upstairs window. Linda and Seph followed Jack up the wooden steps to the back door of the house, sliding between two overgrown hydrangea bushes.

  We must look pretty scary, Seph realized, suddenly self-conscious. Though his arm looked much better than it had, Jack was all muddy and grass stained, and Seph looked like he’d been on the losing side of a fight. His change of clothes was still in the BMW.

  A narrow back staircase ascended into darkness just inside the back door. Jack put his finger to his lips and disappeared up the steps, returning empty-handed and without the baldric. Then he called, “Mom! Are you presentable? I brought guests!”

  “I’m in the study,” a woman replied. “Is it anyone I know?”

  “Yes and no.” Linda and Seph followed Jack into the kitchen. It was huge, with a ceramic tile floor and a large farm-style dining table. Takeout containers crowded the counter next to the sink, unwashed dishes stacked next to them.

  A tall, strawberry-blond woman entered the room carrying a coffee mug. It was clear where Jack got his coloring. She wore faded blue jeans and sturdy, hippie sandals, a sweatshirt carrying the slogan BREAD AND ROSES. Hers was the kind of beauty that pretty turns into: fresh-scrubbed and straightforward.

  “Hi, Becka,” Linda said.

  “Linda! When did you get to town?” Becka embraced the enchanter, leaning down to deliver a quick, fierce hug. “How long can you stay?”

  Linda looked over at Seph. “I’m not sure.”

  “Why do I bother asking? That’s always your answer.” She turned to Jack. “Jack, where have you been? You know you have exams tomorrow.”

  “He was with me,” Linda said. “Sorry.”

  Becka finally noticed Seph, still hesitating in the kitchen doorway. “Oh!” she said, her hand fly
ing to her mouth as she took in the evidence of his recent beating. Then she smiled and came toward him, extending her hands. “Hello. I’m Becka Downey.”

  “I’m Seph McCauley,” he said. “Pleased to meet you.” He extended his hand, and she took it in both of hers and held on to it for a minute. There was something reassuring about the gesture, as if she were already on his side. And blessedly, she did not ask questions. About his face, at least.

  “Have you eaten?” Becka looked over her shoulder at the debris on the counter.

  “Oh, yes, plenty,” Seph said, feeling awkward again.

  “Then I’ll get you something to drink, at least. I have some soda down cellar.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Linda offered. Both sisters disappeared down the stairs.

  “You might as well sit down,” Jack said wryly, pointing to the chairs gathered around the table. Seph sat. Jack pulled four glasses down out of the cabinet and filled them with ice, then carried them carefully to the table. He turned a chair around and straddled it, resting his arms on the back and gazing at Seph. There was an awkward silence.

  “Is it just you and your mom?” Seph asked.

  Jack nodded. “My dad lives in Boston. They’re divorced. I think when they bought the house they thought they’d be here forever.” He rubbed his chin. “Where are you from?”

  “Mostly Toronto,” Seph said automatically. “But I’ve moved around a lot.” He was suddenly very tired.

  “What are you, a junior?”

  Seph nodded.

  “Aunt Linda said your parents are dead?” “She did.” Seph ignored the implied question, which he couldn’t answer, anyway. But fortunately, just at that moment, Becka and Linda emerged from the cellar with bottles of old-fashioned root beer, glistening with condensation. They lined them up on the counter and opened them. As Becka set a soda in front of Seph, she smiled at him and rested a hand on his shoulder. Seph wondered what they’d been talking about downstairs. He didn’t have to wait long to find out.

  “Seph, Linda says you could use a place to stay this summer. Jack and I would love to have you here. It’ll give us an excuse to finish the wallpapering in the third-floor room.”