The Wizard Heir

I call them wizards. “Why would you think I’m . . . a witch? I never even spoke to you until today.”

  “You didn’t have to. I’ve always been able to spot it. You shine like a house lit up for a party.” She reached a hand toward him, stopping an inch from his face, as one might hesitate to touch a hot stove.

  “What happened on the beach today?” Seph persisted.

  “I don’t really know.” She shrugged. “I just don’t seem to be susceptible to spelling.”

  Seph leaned forward. “It was more than that. It’s like you wrung me out or something.”

  Madison took a bite of her biscotti. “This is a totally weird conversation, Seth, or Seph, or whatever your name is.”

  “So can you use it? The power, I mean. After you drain it out of a person?” He reached out and gripped her hand.

  She snatched her hand back. “You’re the witch, not me.” She looked at her watch. “Listen, I’m working breakfast tomorrow. I need to get some sleep.”

  Seph ignored the hint. “Why do you sound like you’re from the South?”

  “Because I am. Coalton County’s down by the river. Southern Ohio.”

  “Why are you working here, then?”

  “My cousin Rachel owns the Legends. She needed a waitress, I needed the money, and I thought I could add some beach landscapes to my portfolio.”

  Seph laid some bills on top of the check. “But you’re not sketching landscapes. You’re sketching me.”

  She turned a deep red and looked away. “I . . . I thought you’d make a good subject. You have an interesting face. And challenging. I mean, you actually make your own light.” She stood, signaling that the conversation was over.

  Seph followed Madison back through the coffeehouse. In the entryway, she turned and stuck out her hand to him. “Well, good to meet you, Seph McCauley. And thanks for the coffee.”

  He took her hand, but she didn’t react to his touch the way other girls did. “Where are you staying?” he asked.

  “Me?” She nodded toward the stairs. “Right here, at the inn.”

  “If you work breakfast tomorrow, does that mean you get off early?”

  She pulled her hand back. “No. I’m working a double shift.”

  “When’s your day off? Maybe we could hang out.”

  “I’ve seen you at the pavilion. Seems to me you’re pretty booked.”

  Small towns. “I’m trying to cut back.”

  She lifted her chin. “What am I, a challenge to you, or something?”

  He shrugged. “You’re the one who kissed me.” He knew he’d said the wrong thing when she pivoted away from him and headed for the stairs. “Hey! Madison! I’m sorry, okay? Can’t we just hang out? You don’t have to sign anything. We’ll do whatever you want.”

  “Well . . .” She paused, one foot on the first step, her hand on the railing. She turned back toward him, considering. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been on a picnic.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Hastings

  The next day was miserably hot. Seph left the beach early and stopped at the market on his way home. Madison had agreed to a picnic, and Seph had agreed to provide the food. He meant to keep it simple: focaccia, cheese, antipasti, fruit. That and a burnt-sugar pecan tart that would steal anybody’s soul.

  At first he thought no one was home, but as he pulled a bottle of iced tea from the refrigerator, he heard voices on the porch. He wandered out, expecting to see Linda and Becka, perhaps. Becka was there, but she was sitting across from a stranger.

  He was tall and lean, yet muscular, and had strong features—that other-side-of-ugly look that women seemed to favor. He had green eyes and dark, unruly hair. He was dressed for the weather in a cotton shirt and khakis, and there was a bottle of beer on the table in front of him.

  There was something compelling about him, a tightly coiled power that drew the eye.

  “Oh hi, Seph. Is Jack with you?” Becka asked, looking over his shoulder.

  Seph shook his head. “I came back from the beach by myself.” He stared at the man, who was looking back at him curiously.

  Becka noticed. “Seph, this is Leander Hastings, a friend of the family. He’s visiting from out of town. Leander, this is Seph McCauley. He’s been staying with us this summer.”

  Seph stuck out his hand to Hastings, and there was that usual electrical exchange between wizards. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you,” Seph said. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  Hastings smiled. “Don’t believe everything you hear.” His eyes were fixed on Seph, taking his measure. There was something about him that reminded Seph of Gregory Leicester. He had the same ability to intimidate, to overwhelm. But just now he looked a little puzzled. “Are you a friend of Jack’s?”

  “No,” Becka explained quickly. “He was Linda’s guest, originally, though we’ve managed to steal him from her. He comes from a complicated family situation.”

  “I see.”

  Seph needed to find a way to talk to the wizard, to ask questions in private. This was likely to be someone who could lead him to the Dragon. “Are you going to be staying in Trinity long, Mr. Hastings?” Seph asked, hoping for a yes.

  Hastings shook his head. “Only a few days, I’m afraid. And a few days in Trinity is never enough.” He paused. “Where do you come from, Seph?” The wizard had a trace of accent, as if he were British, or had learned English overseas.

  “I was born in Canada,” Seph replied. “But I moved around a lot.”

  Becka looked at her watch. “Oh my, I’m sorry, Leander. I need to be down at school in half an hour. Jack should be home soon, though, and I hope you’ll stay for supper. Will you and Seph be okay for a little while?” She seemed flustered, her face rosier than could be accounted for by the heat.

  “I’m fine on my own, Becka, you know that. It’s my fault for dropping in. I’ll stay for supper, if you’ll have me, but I’m sure Seph has other things to do besides entertaining me. I can do some reading.” He rested his hand on a stack of books on the table.

  “Oh, it’s no problem, really,” Seph said hastily.

  Becka gathered up her laptop and papers, kissed Seph on top of his head, and then she was gone, banging the screen door behind her.

  Hastings looked after her for a moment and then turned his attention to Seph. He looked like someone who had forgotten something important and was trying to remember.

  “So you came here with Linda?”

  Seph set his tea on the table and settled into the chair across from Hastings. He decided to answer the next three questions all at once, before they were asked. “She’s my guardian. I’m told my parents are dead. And I don’t know where I’m from. Not really.”

  Hastings looked surprised. “Linda never—”

  “I know, she never mentioned me,” Seph cut in. “I only met her a few weeks ago. But she’s been . . . great. So’s everyone else here in Trinity.”

  “Who were your parents?” Hastings asked, leaning back in his chair. An unusual ring on his right hand caught the light as he did so.

  Seph hesitated, unsure whether to pass along the lie. “I never really knew much about them. I was raised by a foster mother. A sorcerer,” he added.

  “Perhaps your foster mother would tell you about them, if you asked.” His meaning was clear. No sorcerer could resist a wizard asking questions.

  “She’s gone now, too,” he said. There is something deadly about this man, Seph thought. In the world of wizards, it was sometimes difficult to tell the good guys from the bad.

  Seph decided it was time to ask a few questions before they were interrupted. He leaned forward. “Jack told me you taught him how to fight.”

  Hastings nodded. “I did.”

  “Can you teach me, too?”

  “Jack is a warrior. That’s his gift. You’re a wizard. You’re not allowed to fight under the rules.”

  “But not everybody plays by the rules, do they?” Seph said quietly.

&n
bsp; Hastings picked up his beer and drained it. “Why do you want to learn to fight?” he asked, rolling the bottle between his hands.

  “I have enemies.”

  “Who?”

  “Gregory Leicester,” Seph said, watching Hastings for any reaction to the name. There was none, not even a flicker, though the wizard paused a moment before he spoke again.

  “What do you have against Gregory Leicester?” he asked, as if they were talking about the weather.

  “He murdered two of my friends.”

  Hastings didn’t seem surprised by this news. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said. “Were they wizards?”

  “One was a wizard. One was Anaweir.”

  “Can you prove that he killed them?”

  Seph thought about it. “Probably not.”

  Hastings sighed and ran a hand through his hair, leaving it more tumbled than before. “Does Dr. Leicester know you are gunning for him?”

  He’s making fun of me, Seph thought, although there was no trace of humor in Hastings’s voice or manner. “I told him I’d kill him,” Seph admitted.

  Hastings shook his head and leaned forward. “Let me give you some advice, Seph. If you really want to kill a man, don’t tell him what you’re about. And don’t tell everyone else, either. It sounds too much like you are trying to convince yourself.” He smiled, and it was not unkind. “For all you know, Gregory Leicester and I are old friends,” he said.

  “But you’re not,” Seph said. “Are you?”

  “We’re not,” Hastings agreed, without stopping to think about it. “But I know him well enough to suggest you reconsider tangling with him.”

  “It’s not my choice.” Seph moved on to his primary question. “Do you know where I can find the Dragon?” he asked.

  “The Dragon?”

  “The leader of the wizard faction opposing Gregory Leicester. Leicester is in league with someone named Claude D’Orsay.”

  “And how do you know all this?” Seph realized suddenly that he was still the one who was answering most of the questions. And despite spending the day at the beach, he was already sticky with sweat again, while Hastings appeared cool and relaxed. How does he do that?

  “I was at a school called the Havens all last year, up until June,” Seph said, irritated. “The friends he killed were students there. Leicester was the headmaster. So do you know the Dragon or not?”

  Now Hastings studied him with more interest than before. “I’ve heard of the Dragon, of course, although I’m new to the Wizard Council. The Dragon’s not actually on the council. He keeps his identity hidden, but has considerable influence. Why do you ask?”

  “I want to find him. I have some information that could help him.” Seph meant to make Jason’s mission his own. Only, he was even younger than Jason, as Hastings immediately pointed out.

  “You’re too young to get involved in wizard politics. It’s not a game for children. I already have the reputation of being careless with the lives of children,” Hastings added, rubbing his chin.

  “I’m not a child,” Seph said hotly.

  “I’m sure you are not. Not after a year at the Havens.” Hastings was about to say more, when there was a choking sound, like a gasp, from the doorway, and Seph realized they were no longer alone. They both looked up to see Linda Downey standing there.

  “Lee! What are you doing here?” she demanded. She was looking from Seph to Hastings and back again.

  Hastings rose easily to his feet. “It’s good to see you too, Linda.” He stepped forward, extending both hands, but she stepped back, so he let them drop after a moment. He towered over the enchanter, and the air shimmered between them like two weather fronts meeting. Seph filed the information away.

  “I hadn’t heard you were coming,” Linda said finally. “What a surprise.” Her voice was flat.

  Hastings nodded. “I didn’t know you would be here, either. I showed up unannounced, but Becka was kind enough to invite me to dinner. I was just getting to know Seph, here.”

  “I thought you were at the beach,” she said to Seph, in a tone that made him wish he were.

  “I came back early,” he explained hastily. “Jack should be home pretty soon.” As he spoke, they heard someone at the back door.

  “Seph? You hiding out in here? I have five messages for you.” Jack was laughing as he came onto the porch. He stopped short when he saw Hastings. “Mr. Hastings! I didn’t realize you were here. I would have come home sooner.” This was one wizard he seemed pleased to see.

  “Does Mom know you’re here?”

  “I already saw her,” Hastings said. “I brought her some old books from the UK that I thought she might enjoy.”

  Seph looked from Jack to Hastings to Linda Downey. He was already sure that dinner would be interesting.

  Dinner was interesting. Becka put salmon into the smoker and there were grilled vegetables, warm bread from the bakery, and fresh sweet corn. She had bought raspberries and whipping cream, so Seph made crepes for dessert.

  Aside from the food, dinner was a feast of secrets. And all of them revolved around Leander Hastings. Linda was brooding about something and had little to say to anyone. Seph realized quickly that Jack and Hastings had a history Becka knew nothing about. She and Hastings got into a spirited discussion about Celtic archaeology that lasted through most of the meal. Yet Becka seemed tentative, unsure of herself where the wizard was concerned. And Seph noticed Hastings looking at him intently several times.

  If he was hoping for more private time with Hastings after dinner, he was disappointed. The adults sat on the porch, talking and drinking wine until late. Finally, Hastings thanked Becka for hosting him and said goodbye to Jack and Seph. When he came to Linda, he took both her hands firmly and lifted her to her feet. “Can you walk me out, Linda?” It was more a command than a request. Seph wondered what the wizard was up to.

  Maybe he was going to tell Linda about Seph’s plans to find the Dragon.

  He felt disappointed. He was convinced that Hastings knew where to find the Dragon, but obviously he wasn’t going to share that information with Seph.

  The air outside was soft with the exhalation of the lake. When Linda and Hastings reached Hastings’s car, he opened the passenger-side door. “Get in,” he said, and walked around to the other side without waiting for a response.

  Fine, she thought. It would give her a chance to speak her mind to Hastings. She got in.

  Hastings climbed in the driver’s side, but he didn’t put the key into the ignition. “I want to talk to you about the boy,” he said.

  “If you mean Seph, I have something to say to you, too.” She looked him in the eyes. “Stay away from him, Leander. Don’t get him involved in any of your schemes. Even if he wants to be. He’s already been hurt, and I don’t want to see him hurt any more.”

  “My schemes?” Hastings raised an eyebrow. Linda glared at him, so he sighed and sat back in his seat, draping his arms across the steering wheel. “How well do you know him?” he asked.

  “I’ve known Seph all his life,” Linda replied. “Why?”

  “He says he just met you this summer,” Hastings said mildly. “And I’m wondering why I’ve never heard of him before.”

  Linda hesitated. “Well, maybe our relationship has been a bit . . . one-sided.”

  “So you know him but you’d never actually spoken to him?” Hastings rubbed his hand along his jaw.

  “I’ve been his guardian since he was a baby,” Linda said sharply. “Why? What are you getting at?”

  “If you’re his guardian, then how in bloody hell did the boy end up at the Havens?”

  Linda shifted uncomfortably on the seat. “I . . . I didn’t arrange the placement. I never . . . I never made the connection. I didn’t realize he was in trouble until the end of the school year.” Guilt swept over her.

  Hastings was blunt. “I don’t believe in coincidences. I know Gregory Leicester, and I know what he does to his students. If Sep
h McCauley spent a year there, then you have to assume Leicester has control of him now.”

  “That’s impossible,” Linda said flatly. “He was a mess when I found him. It was all I could do to get him out of there. Leicester was ready to kill him. And then they tried to keep us from getting to Trinity.”

  “How did you happen to take him out of school?” Hastings asked. He’d turned away from the light, and she couldn’t read his expression in the darkness.

  “He sent out an e-mail asking for help.” Hastings was silent. “Come on, Leander. You don’t think this is some kind of trick, do you?”

  “This might be just where Leicester wants him to be, right in the middle of the Sanctuary, right next to you, Nick, Jack, and Ellen: all the people who ruined their tournament last year and engineered the change in the rules.”

  “How would they know he’d end up here? It’s like I told you. Seph didn’t even know about me until I showed up at school.”

  “What did he tell you about school?”

  “He . . . well . . . he wouldn’t tell me much. But you could tell from the way he looked that—”

  “Don’t be naïve. Look, as soon as he met me, he was asking about the Dragon and where he could find him. Said he wanted to help him. The boy’s just a child, but he’s powerful. Powerful enough to overwhelm you. Don’t you see? It’s too risky to leave him here.”

  Linda made an irritated sound. “You’re right about one thing. He is a child. He’s just an untrained boy who’s been through hell this past year. And now he needs to heal.”

  Hastings turned and took Linda’s hands. She flinched and tried to withdraw them, but he held tight, exerting pressure of his own. “Let me take him with me. I promise I won’t hurt him. Given a little time, perhaps I can undo the damage. It might help us learn more about what Leicester is up to, and how to help his victims.”

  “That’s what it’s all about, isn’t it?” she said bitterly. “You’re hoping to use Seph to help you win.”

  “We have to win, Linda,” Hastings said softly, urgently, searching her eyes. “You know that as well as I do.”

  She withdrew her hands. “Yes, we do,” she agreed. “But not over the body of this boy. I’m not letting him leave the Sanctuary.” When she saw his expression, she squared her shoulders and her chin came up. “Don’t try to bully me. And don’t try to go behind my back, either. If you lay a finger on him, or talk him into anything, there will be a war between us, I promise you.”