The Enchanter Heir (31 page)

They slapped hands. “That is so cool,” Natalie said. “Like this is fate or something. See, music is really big at school, because of Gabriel’s interest in it, and because it seems to work well as a therapy for some of the students who can’t be reached any other way.” She paused. “These guitars you build—I’d love to see one.”

“I’ve sold a couple,” Emma said. “There are two more back at my house.”

“Are they . . .
magical
in any way?”

“Magical?” Emma snorted. “How can a guitar be magical?” A memory surfaced, of afternoons in the back of Sonny Lee’s shop. Blues players, young and old, shaking their heads, smitten with what her grandfather could do with maple and mahogany. Sonny Lee’s guitars could make a bad player sound good, and a good player make magic.

But Emma had the feeling that Natalie was talking about something more than this.

She looked up to find Natalie studying her, her lower lip caught behind her teeth. “You know, I don’t know what your plans are, but the Anchorage would be a good fit for you. And Gabriel has pledged to accept all survivors.”

“Why does he do it?” Emma said. “Is he some kind of saint?”

Natalie laughed. “Oh, no. He’s a music promoter, so you know he’s no saint. He helped found Thorn Hill . . . he still owns the land in Brazil, so I guess he feels a commitment to us. Much of the money that supports the foundation comes from gemstone mines on the property.”

Emma looked for the guards who had been tailing them. Seeing that they’d stopped moving, they had taken up a position at the far end of the terrace. She could see the glow of their cigarettes through the gathering darkness.

She fingered the ring of blisters around her neck, left by Burroughs’s fingers. It was now or never.

She leaned in close to Natalie. “Speaking of plans, I need your help. I need to get out of here.”

Natalie nodded, still staring out at the lake. “Go on.”

“They mean to keep me here until they’ve wrung all the information out of me that they can get, then they’re going to kill me.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Natalie said, a bitter edge to her voice.

“When you leave here, could you notify the police?”

For what seemed like forever, Natalie didn’t answer. Then she said, “I doubt that would do any good. Anyway, what makes you think they’ll let me leave?”

Emma stared at her. “What? Of course they will! They have to.”

“No. They don’t,” Natalie said. “Why would they? You’re a very important property. They see you as the break they’ve been looking for. Oh, Gabriel will kick up a fuss, but they’ll stand their ground. They have to. They’ll say I left here to return to the Anchorage, and something must have happened to me on the way. End of story.”

“So you help them out and in return they murder you?”

“That’s wizards,” Natalie said.

“Well, then, we both have to escape,” Emma said.

“Easier said than done.” Natalie stared out at the nowblack waters of the lake, the only side of the property that wasn’t fenced in. “Can you swim?”

Emma shook her head. “Not a lick. Not many chances to learn in downtown Memphis. You?”

Natalie shook her head. “Me neither. Listen, I’ll tell them I need something from the Anchorage. A medicine or a treatment. Maybe they’ll let me go. Or at least send a message.”

“But . . . what good would that do?” Emma asked. “If the police can’t help, then—”

“I think I know somebody who can.”

When they walked back to the house, Rowan was waiting for them on the terrace. Emma had the feeling he’d been watching them for some time.

“You’re looking well,” he said to Emma, standing aside so they could enter through the French doors. “Are you nearly back to normal?”

“Yes. Pretty much,” Emma said, without thinking. “I’m glad to hear it.” He put his hand on her arm, and she flinched away. His eyes narrowed. “Perhaps, tonight, we can talk more about what you remember about the night of the murders.”

Was there a threat implicit in these words? Emma wasn’t sure.

As soon as they passed into the hall, Emma stopped short. Natalie’s small suitcase and backpack were sitting by the door, with all the rest of her belongings. Natalie saw it at the same time. They both swiveled to stare at Rowan.

“Since you’re doing so well, I don’t see any reason to take up any more of Natalie’s time,” Rowan said. “We’ll keep working on the memory loss on our own.” He gripped Natalie’s arm. “Let’s load up the car, and I’ll drive you back to the Anchorage.”

Natalie’s eyes widened. She looked from Rowan to Emma, then tried to pull away, shaking her head. “I—I . . . maybe I should stay a little longer,” she said. “As long as Emma’s still taking medication, I don’t—”

“I know you must be getting behind in your classes,” Rowan said. “It’s great that you were able to spend so much time here, but I think we can manage on our own now. If Emma takes a turn for the worse, I’ll call.”

Natalie licked her lips. “Look, you don’t need to drive me back. I’ll just call one of my friends from school. I know he’ll be glad to—”

“No need for anyone to drive here and back. I’m heading downtown anyway.” Rowan paused, as if waiting for further protest. Natalie said nothing, but stood, face pale, fists clenched, looking desperate to escape.

Natalie’s words came back to Emma.
They’ll say I left here to return to the Anchorage, and something must have happened to me on the way.

And something would happen.

Emma faced Rowan. “What do you plan to do to her?” Rowan scowled. “What makes you think I’m planning to do something to her?”

“Are you or aren’t you?”

“Can you just give it a rest?” Rowan said, his body rigid with anger. “If you’re asking me to trust you, the answer is no,” Emma said, folding her arms. “If you don’t mean her any harm, then let her get home any way she wants.”

“Look, I need to make sure she doesn’t tell anyone about you,” he said. “That’s all.”

“So you’re going to kill her.”

“No. I’m not.” Turning, he struck like a snake, gripping both of Natalie’s hands. He spoke a charm, and she froze in place, staring blankly into the distance.

“Natalie!” Emma cried. Putting her fingers under the healer’s chin, she lifted her head. Natalie stared glassy-eyed at Emma. “What did you do?”

“I just immobilized her, all right?” Rowan said. “And now I’m going to wipe her memory. And then I’m going to take her back to the Anchorage.” He paused. “The only way this works is if she doesn’t remember anything. Otherwise, I can’t let her go. Do you understand, Emma?”

Emma nodded her understanding. She was not to give Natalie any take-away message. There would be no plea for rescue. Otherwise, he’d kill her.

Resting his hand on Natalie’s head, Rowan murmured words that sounded like Latin.
“Ana memorare.”

A shudder ran through Natalie. And then another.

Rowan spoke another charm and stepped back. Shooting a warning look at Emma, he said, “Natalie? What’s the matter? Are you okay?”

She flinched, as if startled. She blinked at him, then rubbed both her hands over her face. “What happened? Where am I?”

“I’m Rowan DeVries, remember? You’re here to treat my cousin.”

“Your cousin?” Natalie said thickly, looking around, as if for clues.

“Here.” Rowan rested his hot hand on Emma’s shoulder.

“She’s doing much better, as you can see. We were just about to take you back to the Anchorage, when you had some sort of spell.”

It was a spell, all right, Emma thought.

Something must have shown in her expression, because Rowan’s fingers dug into her shoulder in warning. Natalie’s expression cleared. “Oh. Right. And, so . . .”

Her eyes lit on the suitcase. “And so I was just about to leave?”

“Right. I’m going to take you back to the Anchorage now.”

Natalie took a step, and faltered. “Wow, this isn’t like me.”

“I’m sure you’ll be more comfortable at home,” Rowan said, letting go of Emma and moving swiftly to take Natalie’s arm. “We’ve taken too much of your time already. I can help you to the car if you’d like.”

Natalie looked at Emma. “You’re sure you’ll be all right?”

Emma nodded. “I’m fine,” she whispered.

“You call me if you need any more medicine. Or anything at all.”

Then Natalie turned away, toward the door. “If you can . . . just get my bags,” she said to Rowan, “I’ll walk out on my own.”

Rowan picked up her bags and followed her out. He paused in the doorway and turned back toward Emma. “Don’t worry. You’ll be perfectly safe while I’m gone. I’ve instructed security not to let anyone in or out.” When they were gone, Emma sank down onto the bench in the foyer and put her head in her hands. Once again, she was on her own.

Chapter Thirty-two
Do-Over

“Jonah! Wake up!” Jake’s voice broke into Jonah’s seething thoughts.

Jonah looked down, balancing himself on the edge of the platform. Four stories below, his gymnastics coach was a tiny speck against the polished wood floor.

That’s what they called him, anyway—a gymnastics coach. He was more like a martial-arts instructor.

“You need to be over there.” Jake pointed to the far end of the gym, to the platform under the rafters. “Get there without touching down. The timer starts NOW!”

Jonah pulled the grappling hook from his pocket, clipped it to his line, and sent it flying across the room to find a home over one of the crossbeams at the peak of the roof. After yanking back a bit to anchor it, he launched himself from the edge of the platform. At first he was falling, nearly to the gym floor, and then arcing up, up, up. At the peak of the arc, he released himself from the line and grabbed on to the metal framework that supported the lighting system. Swinging back, he launched himself again, this time ropeless. But when he arrived at where the platform should have been, it was gone.

Jake was up to his old tricks again. Testing Jonah’s ability to improvise on the fly.

Just before Jonah slammed into the wall, he twisted so that he hit feetfirst, meanwhile scanning the gym for the new target. Throwing out another line, he anchored near center to give himself a little time and pushed off again.

There. Just above the floor, near the door.

Midswoop, he launched another line, at an angle so he could change direction. Folding his body so he didn’t hit the floor, he dropped lightly onto the platform, turned, and assumed his ready stance.

Jake examined the screen on his phone. “Time’s not bad. But you’ve got to keep your eye on the prize, remember.”

One of Jake’s cardinal rules.

“Eyes on the prize,” Jonah repeated dutifully.

“Before you shower, spend an hour with the weights,” Jake advised. “Work on the abdominals. Are you keeping up with your running?”

“Well,” Jonah said, “I have this calculus test—”

“Calculus!” Jake shook his head. “When you going to use that? Prioritize, man! What I teach you will keep you alive.”

So Jake hadn’t gotten the memo. The one that said that Jonah was out of Nightshade. “Weights. Running. Got it,” Jonah said, eager to end the conversation. Because he’d spotted Natalie standing in the doorway to the gym, seething with tension, giving him a look that said,
We need to talk.
Natalie had been working off-site for nearly a week, and all of his phone calls and texts had gone unanswered. She probably wants to schedule a practice for the band, Jonah thought. Something he wasn’t sure he’d ever be ready for.

He crossed the polished gym floor to where she stood.

“Glad you’re back. Gabriel said that you were completing an off-campus assignment. Were you back in Trinity again?” She shook her head. “Something’s come up. I need your help.”

“Sure,” Jonah said, thinking, Natalie never needs help with anything. “You know all you have to do is ask.” She looked around, then leaned in close. “Let’s go someplace we can’t be overheard.”

“Suits me,” Jonah said, glancing over to where Jake was giving him the evil eye. “Let’s walk down to the river.” Leaving the gym, they crossed to St. Clair. They descended into the Flats and turned left on River Road, toward Settlers Landing. The park would be nearly deserted on a weekday, this early in the morning. And it was, nearly—just a few joggers who lived downtown.

They sat on the wall around the Ohio fountain, looking downriver, their view framed by the rusted and brilliantly painted steel of multiple bridges. The only traffic on the river was the crew team from St. Ignatius, rowing valiantly against the current. It was still early, the rising sun splintered by the buildings of downtown.

“So,” Jonah said. “What’s up? Where have you been? I was getting worried.”

“Jonah,” Natalie said abruptly. “I need help with a rescue.” Jonah stared at her, mystified. There was almost nothing Natalie could have said that would have surprised him more. Generally she preferred to remain at arms’ length from field operations.

“Go on,” he said.

“Gabriel sent me to help some wizards with a patient who was dying from a mysterious ailment.”

“Gabriel sent you to help wizards?” Jonah rolled his eyes. “That’s taking ‘Kumbaya’ a little too far. Did you at least poison a few while you were there?”

“Their patient wasn’t a wizard,” Natalie said, ignoring that last comment. “She’s a savant.”

“Someone from the Anchorage?” Jonah asked, mentally sorting through all the shadehunters he knew were out in the field.

Natalie shook her head. “Someone who’s new to all this.” She leaned closer. “They’re holding her captive because she is the only witness to a murder. They think she may be the break they’ve been looking for . . . that she holds the key to all the recent wizard murders.”

“You’re sure she’s a savant?” Jonah asked.

“She was at Thorn Hill, and has a savant stone.” Natalie frowned. “But I don’t really know what her gift is. And she doesn’t have the tattoo.”

Something kindled in the back of Jonah’s mind. It might have been hope. “Does she? Know something about the wizard murders, I mean?”

“Hard to say. It seems she was on the scene when a number of wizards were killed, along with her father.” Natalie’s eyes narrowed as she focused in on Jonah’s face. “Hello? Are you feeling all right? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”