The Wizard Heir (The Heir Chronicles #2)

The Wizard Heir (The Heir Chronicles #2) Page 24

Seph fastened on the notion of leaving. “How would you deal with the wall?”

Jason grinned. “I think I've finally got that nailed. Barber's the architect, you know. I heard him bragging about it when I was lurking in the alumni dining room. So I tossed his room and found some books on the subject.”

“So how does it work?”

“It's a real, physical wall overlaid with confusion charms. So you can't stay focused enough to get over or around it. I've put together some countercharms that should work.”

“Should work,” Seph said skeptically. “Then let's try it.”

Jason shook his head. “I don't want to tip Leicester off before I'm ready to leave.”

“If you can leave, you should. Before something happens.”

“I really don't care what happens to me. As long as I get Leicester.”

In the end, Jason decided to stay a little longer to see if he could gather more news to take to the Dragon. But Leicester and D'Orsay didn't meet again.

A few weeks later, in mid-May, Seph brought his workout gear to the Alumni House one evening, intending to meet Jason to go over some books they'd taken from the library. He ate dinner with Martin and Peter, then walked through the common room and into the stairwell. He took a quick look around, then spoke the unnoticeable charm. Just then, the door flew open behind him.

It was Warren Barber. He must have followed Seph out of the common room. He looked around the landing, puzzled. Seph had just stepped through the door, and now he was gone. Seph wondered if Barber had even heard him say the end of the charm.

Barber stood frozen for a moment, listening, then loped down the stairs with Seph ghosting along behind him. When Barber reached the basement, he looked up and down the empty hallway. Seph slipped into the workout room. A moment later, when Barber opened the door, Seph had disabled the charm and was adjusting the weights on the rowing machine. Fortunately, there was no one else in there.

“What are you doing in here?” Barber demanded, scanning the room, his pale brows drawn together suspiciously.

Seph locked the weights in place and looked up at Barber, lifting an eyebrow. “I'm … um … working out?”

Barber leaned against the doorframe and lit a cigarette. “Yeah? Well, it ain't helping. You look like a bag of bones.”

Seph shrugged. “It helps me sleep.”

“I've got stuff that'll help you sleep. What do you need?”

“No, thanks.”

Barber blew out a stream of smoke. “What are you trying to prove?”

Seph stopped wrestling with the machine and turned and faced Barber. “I don't get it. Why does it matter to you so much? Do you get a bonus if I link with Leicester?”

“More like, he'll make us miserable until you do.”

Careful. You don't know anything. “Why does he want this so much?” Seph asked. When Barber rolled his eyes, he added, “No, really. I want to know.”

“You're just a blue-blood rich kid. You think you can just decline Dr. Leicester's invitation like he asked you to a fricking soiree. He won't take no for an answer. If he can't use you, he'll destroy you.” Barber stubbed out his cigarette, turned on his heel, and walked out.

Seph waited half an hour. When he peered out into the corridor, there was no sign of Barber or anyone else. He slipped down the hallway to Jason's room.

“Sorry I'm late,” Seph said after Jason shut the door behind him. “Barber almost caught me.” He explained what had happened, as Jason cleared books and papers off a chair so Seph could sit.

“He believed you?” Jason asked, frowning. He pulled two cans of soda from the refrigerator and handed one to Seph.

“I think so. I mean, he left a half hour ago.”

Jason started to say something else, but then his head snapped up and the blood drained from his face. “We're screwed!” He flung an arm out toward Seph, casting an unnoticeable spell. At the same instant, the door banged open, the bolt dropping to the tile with a hollow ping. Gregory Leicester stood in the doorway.

“Dr. Leicester,” Jason said, almost choking on the words. “I didn't hear you knock.”

“Hello, Jason,” the headmaster said, his gaze drifting around the room, settling on the two cans of soda still sitting on the table, the piles of books and papers on the desk. He remained where he was, filling the doorway, as if to prevent any attempt at escape.

Jason and Gregory Leicester faced each other. The air shimmered with the tension between them. Jason was deathly pale.

“Jason, what do you know about Joseph McCauley?” The voice was complex, full of fire and ice, sorcery and menace.

Jason toyed with his earring, frowning, as if struggling to remember. “He's the one you told me about, right? He spent a lot of time in this building over winter break. I think I've seen him in the workout rooms.”

“We've been working with him all year, but we aren't making the kind of progress we would like. He's hallucinating. Delusional. Dangerously symptomatic. But refuses our help. And now there's been a change in his behavior that makes me think perhaps he's been spending time with you.” The voice was gentle on the surface, but there was steel underneath. “Do you remember our discussion about your negative influence on the other boys?”

“I'm not stupid.”

“I hope you haven't been filling his head with a lot of talk about conspiracies,” Leicester continued. “He's extremely vulnerable right now.”

Jason stared at the floor. He didn't say anything.

“Have you forgotten the consequences we had talked about, both to you and to him?”

“I haven't forgotten,” Jason replied, He looked up at Leicester in the eyes. “Believe me.”

“Good,” Leicester said softly. He took another look around the room. And then he was gone.

Seph breathed. “Thank God,” he said, half aloud. He waited a count of five, then disabled the charm. Jason did not look relieved. He still sat on the edge of the bed, staring out at nothing. His face was the color of putty, and he was shaking.

“Well, that was too close,” Seph said.

Jason looked up as if startled out of his reverie. “That's wasn't close, Seph. That was dead on.” He stood and went to his closet, rummaged through it, and produced a backpack. He unzipped it and spread it out on the bed.

“What are you doing?”

“I've got to get out of here.”

“What?”

“He knew you were in the room, Seph. Barber must have gone to get him as soon as he left the fitness center. All that stuff about your delicate condition—that was for your benefit.” Jason shoved his Weirbook into the daypack, followed by his organizer and notes from the library.

“How do you know?” Seph watched as his friend continued to pack. He took very little: a photograph of a woman in a frame, a sweatshirt.

“Trust me. We've never had a conversation like that— ever.” Jason zipped up the pack. “If you hadn't been here, I'd probably be dead by now. He's not sure how much you know. He's hoping I haven't ruined you. As it is, they'll probably come for me tonight. They'll wait until you're back in your room.”

“I'll stay here, then.” Seph sat back in his chair.

Jason laughed. “You're really something, you know that? Believe me, you don't want to do that. Besides, I'm leaving.”

“Then I'm going with you.”

Jason shook his head. “No. You're safer here than you would be with me. They may be waiting for me, but they won't kill you as long as they think they can get to you. Make sure they keep thinking that.”

Seph cast about for an alternative. “We've been studying attack magic for months. We can take him if we work together.”

“Look, man, I'm flattered. You're the one with the talent. I'm cagy as hell, but I'm just not that powerful. It'd be two against sixteen, and they've been training for years. Leicester channels them, somehow. There's no way we win. I'm not getting anyone else killed.”

“I'd rather be dead than stay here.”

Jason shook his head. “Listen to me. You're tough. You made it on your own for four months, remember? I still don't know how you did it. And now you have the dyrne sefa!' He paused. ”Look, if I get out of here, I'll get you out. I promise. I'll contact Sloane's, whatever it takes."

Seph swallowed hard. “I'm sorry, Jason. I'm the one who got you busted. First Trevor, and now you.”

“Seph, I'm afraid I haven't appropriately oriented you to your new role.”

“What do you mean?”

Jason grinned. “Wizards never say they're sorry—not about anything.” Jason embraced, then released him quickly. “Whatever happens, it's been cool knowing you, Seph. Never think any different.”

Seph was speechless for a moment, his throat congested with grief. Then he said, “Where will you go? How can I find you?”

“If you get out, look for the Dragon. If you can't get out, I'll come after Leicester, sooner or later.” He pulled on his jacket, slung his pack across his back, spoke his charm, and was gone.

Chapter Nine

Desperate Measures

The normal cadence of life at the Havens continued after Jason's departure for everyone but Seph. For most of the students, Jason had never existed so no one noticed his absence.

Days passed, and there was no word from Jason and no indication from Sloane's that he had contacted them. Seph was increasingly worried. Had Jason even made it past the wall? There was no clue from Leicester or the alumni. They asked him no questions about Jason's disappearance, which Seph took as a bad sign.

Seph continued to visit the alumni library, but it was an empty gesture. There seemed to be no future in it, no outlet for the magic he copied into his memory. Seph felt more alone than before. Jason had been his first teacher of magic.