The Wizard Heir

Hastings looked at Madison, as if wishing he could make her disappear. Her expression and body language said she had no intention of leaving. Seph would have liked to have seen Hastings try and evict her after what she'd done to him in the hallway.

Instead, Hastings leaned against the door, his arms folded across his chest. “What shall we do with you, Seph?”

“This is none of your business. Why don't you just leave me alone?” Seph stood, feet braced apart, breathing hard. He jerked his head toward Madison. “You should go.”

“I'm not leaving this time.” Madison sat down on the bed, looking mulish.

Hastings ignored this exchange. “I told Linda it was too risky to let you stay here. It seems I was right. When Jack called me, I knew exactly where to look for you.”

“If it's a problem, just drive me to the city limits. The alumni will be happy to take me off your hands.”

Hastings's head came up. “The alumni?”

“Leicester's wizard slaves. I'm wanted back at school, it seems.”

Hastings squinted at him as if puzzled. Then sat down in one of the chairs next to the table. “Tell me about school.”

“The Havens? They have five hundred spectacular acres on the Atlantic Ocean. They win the sailing cup every year.” Seph was being a smartass, and he knew it. “Do you have a specific question?”

“As it happens, I know something about the Havens,” Hastings said. “Can you explain to me how you survived a year in that place? Can you tell me why you're not with them?”

Seph had a sudden strong desire to win the wizard over. He was tired of worrying about the alumni; tired of keeping secrets; tired of trying to solve his problems on his own; tired of sparring with a powerful wizard who should be his ally. If he couldn't find the Dragon, maybe Hastings would do. “I used the heartstone. The dyrne sefa”

Hastings pulled the talisman out of his pocket and handed it back to Seph. “Where did you get it?”

“Another student gave it to me and taught me how to use it. His name was Jason Haley.” Seph shoved the piece into the pocket of his shorts. “He was my friend. He was helping me. So they killed him.” He began pacing back and forth. “A week ago, Leicester sent some of the alumni to kidnap me. I left the sanctuary, and they attacked me.” He nodded at Madison. “If not for Madison, here, and Ellen, they would have taken me.” He rubbed his temples. “I can't stand it anymore. They tortured me for months. They murdered my friends. Why won't they leave me alone?”

He walked to the window and rested his hands on the sill, looking out at the water. A chair scraped on the wood floor, and then Hastings was beside him. He grabbed Seph's chin and forced his face around so he could look him in the eyes. It reminded him of Jason, the night he'd explained to Seph about the Weir. After a moment, Hastings let him go and turned away.

Something had changed, but Seph wasn't sure what or how. He went and sat down on the bed next to Madison and picked up her hand, enclosing it between his two. “I'm sorry, Madison. I've been a jerk. It's just … they threatened to … I don't want you to get hurt.”

“There's more than one way to hurt a person, Witch Boy,” she said, looking down at their joined hands. “And different kinds of risks.” She looked up at Hastings. “What was that you called me in the hallway?”

The wizard turned and leaned against the window seat. “An elicitor.”

She made a face. “What's that? It sounds, you know, like something you'd get arrested for.”

“It's not nearly common enough to be illegal.” Hastings studied her with frank interest. “In fact, although I've heard of elicitors, I've never encountered one before.”

“Jason never mentioned elicitors when he described the guilds,” Seph said.

Hastings nodded. “Elicitors are not Weir, since they have no Weirstones. But they have the ability to elicit magic, to draw it away from others. And, of course, they're resistant to charms. As you've probably guessed by now,” he added.

“Are they just resistant to wizards, or to the Anawizard Weir?”

Hastings toyed with the ring on his right hand. “My understanding is that they draw magic of all kinds.”

“What happens to the power?” Seph asked. “Does it just dissipate, or could an elicitor use it herself?”

Hastings shrugged. “I don't know.”

Madison was looking from Seph to Hastings as if they'd suddenly lapsed into French. “I have no idea what you two are talking about. Can someone help me out here?”

Seph traced the lines on her palm. “The Weir are people born with magical gifts. Wizards like us have the broadest range of powers. Others are specialists; for instance, they can see the future, or make magical tools and remedies. The witches you knew at home are probably either wizards or enchanters.”

“How do you two know each other?” Hastings asked.

Madison kicked off her sandals and dug her bare toes into the rug. “Seph picked me up on the beach one morning.”

“She works here at the inn,” Seph added.

At that she looked at her watch, and groaned. “My supervisor's going to kill me. I'm on duty.” She slipped her feet back into her shoes and stood. “I have to go.”

“I'll call you,” Seph said.

“Right.” And she was out the door.

Hastings looked after her thoughtfully. “There's another term for elicitors,” he said.

“What's that?”

“Eviscerators.” He smiled wryly. “Coined by wizards, no doubt. Although they have no magic of their own, they're very dangerous creatures. Are you sure you can trust her? Unfortunately, there's no way to determine if she's telling the truth.”

Meaning by a wizard's touch, no doubt. “So I guess we just have to rely on our judgment, don't we? Like the Anaweir,” Seph retorted, looking Hastings in the eyes.

The wizard raised his hand. “All right. You're the best judge, I suppose.” He paused, as if debating what to say next. “Look. It doesn't matter who you're after or how strong the justification. You cannot attack anyone at the conference. This wasn't a good day for Gregory Leicester. He would seize any excuse to undo what's been done.”

“What happened?”

“The council agreed to convene an Interguild Conference to consider a new constitution based on the revised rules. If Leicester and D'Orsay can't get their own way within a council of their peers, it's even less likely where there are warriors and enchanters represented.”

“Seph, you have to promise me you won't do anything to disrupt the conference. It would play right into Leicester's hands.”

“Killing Leicester is the best thing that could happen, it seems to me.” He looked up into Hastings's scowl. Reluctantly, he said, “Okay, I promise.”

“You'll need to stick with Jack all day tomorrow, or I'll know about it. And you're not to come near the inn. If you violate either of those conditions, it doesn't matter what Linda says. I'll put you away where you can't cause any more mischief.”

Seph nodded. He didn't have much choice. “Okay.”

“I'll take you home, then,” said Leander Hastings.

The next day, Jack and Seph left at four a.m. to go fishing in the western basin. Seph learned to bait hooks, cast a line, and clean fish. By the time they returned, the meetings at the Legends were over, and the council had dispersed. Most left the Sanctuary as quickly as possible.

That evening, Leander Hastings, Ellen Stephenson, and Madison Moss came to dinner. Becka was attending a concert at the Institute. It was one of the warm nights at the end of summer that make promises that won't be kept. Seph and Madison rolled lake perch in cracker crumbs and fried them while Linda and Jack made salads and roasted the corn. Although everyone was eager to hear what had transpired at the Legends, Linda would allow no discussion of events at the conference until dessert was served.

“So how'd it go?” Jack demanded, when the ban was finally lifted. They were eating ice cream on the screened porch. Seph and Madison had claimed the wicker swing and were pleasantly crowded in together.

“I'd say the outcome was mixed today,” Hastings replied. “Leicester and D'Orsay introduced an alternative constitution and put it on the agenda for consideration at the joint meeting.” He shook his head. “I don't know how it could possibly pass. It's a nasty document. Worse than the original rules.” He looked over at Linda, as if to get her reaction, but she seemed to be deep in thought.

“One concern is the location of the conference. They were unable to change the composition of the Interguild Council, but they argued against holding the next meeting in the Sanctuary. They say that this is a hostile environment, that the whole concept was forced on the Wizard Council at the tournament last summer. Which it was.”

Hastings shrugged. “Leicester and his group had already lost on many of the important issues. I think there was some desire on the part of the Wizard Council to appease them somehow.”

“Where will the meeting be held?” Seph asked.

“Second Sister. It's an island in Lake Erie, in the western basin, actually Canadian.” Hastings explained. “Privately owned.”

“Second Sister?”Jack raised an eyebrow. “I didn't think there was anything there.”

“There's an old winery, rather like a great stone castle. It's been renovated into a guesthouse. The feeling was that this would be a good compromise. Close to the Sanctuary, convenient for everyone.”

“They didn't want to have it in Raven's Ghyll?”Jack asked. That had been the site of the tournament the summer before, in England. It was Claude D'Orsay's ancestral home, a stronghold of wizards. D'Orsay was the hereditary Gamemaster for the tournaments. Seph knew all this from Jack and Ellen. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">