The Wizard Heir (21 page)

“I'm Catholic,” Seph replied in a whisper.
“I don't do that.”

Linda glanced at Seph, changed tactics. "Look.
Those are Seph's clothes. We left my car at West Market Mall last night while
Nick and Jack and I were showing Seph around. The clothes were in there. We
planned to go back and get the car today.

“Someone must have broken in and taken them. How
would we know who it was? Seph just came from school in New England. He's never
been here before, and he doesn't know anyone around here, right?” She
looked at Seph, and he nodded. He was more than happy to let her make up a
story.

Ross massaged his temples. “Maybe the three of us
should go take a look at the car,” he suggested.

Linda shook her head. “You and I can go. I'm
taking Seph back home.”

“I said I was sorry, didn't I?” He looked
sorry, too. “Listen, I'll pick you up at Becka's around two.”

Seph didn't have much to say on the way back to
Jefferson Street. Anything, in fact.

“What is it?” Linda said finally.

Seph cleared his throat. He didn't mean to sound
ungrateful. After all, Linda Downey had rescued him from the Havens only two
days before. “I thought this was a sanctuary.”

Linda looked over at him. “It is. This is the
safest place for you.”

“Then why don't I feel safe?” Seph fingered
the dyrne sefa and rested his forehead against the side window.
“They were already waiting for us when we got here. They went after Ellen.
Then this. It doesn't make sense. Leicester let me go, didn't he? Or did you
just put a spell on him, and now it's worn off?”

“Think about it. Why do you think they tried to
keep you from reaching Trinity? As long as the rules are in force, he can't
really attack you here. Unfortunately, the rules don't forbid them from trying
to scare you to death.”

The other possibility was that Gregory Leicester was
reinforcing his warning to Seph to say nothing about his experiences at the
Havens.

“Well, they know exactly where I am. I don't like
waiting around to be ambushed. Maybe I should just go. Find me a summer camp in
Canada, maybe. I'm used to being on my own.”

“That's just what they're hoping you'll do.
Promise me you'll stay in town.”

Seph shrugged. He wasn't making any promises. But he
did need training in wizardry, and right now, Nick Snowbeard was his only
option.

It was almost one by the time they pulled in next to
the garage.

Snowbeard was waiting for them on the porch. Linda
told the old man about the bizarre display at the fountain. He asked a few
careful questions, but offered little comment. Linda went upstairs and returned
with a leather-bound book.

“This is Jack's Weirbook,” she explained,
opening it to the last page and pointing to his name inscribed at the end of a
family tree. She handed it to Seph. He scanned the genealogy, and then quickly
turned to the section on spells and incantations.

There was a knock at the front door. Linda stood up
and picked up her purse. “Ross Childers and I are going to pick up the car
and probably go back to the police station to make a report. That should give
you two time for your lesson.” And then she was gone, out of the deep
shade of the porch and into the bright sunlight.

Seph thought Snowbeard might ask for a demonstration
of what wizardry he already knew, but he didn't. Instead, the old wizard
steepled his fingers together and spoke in a soft voice, quite formally.
“You may call me Nick. Shall I call you Seph?” Seph nodded.
“Let's start at the beginning, Seph, and lay the foundation. You may know
some of this already, but it bears repeating. This is not the kind of education
that should come to you piecemeal, as it has.”

He paused a moment, as if sorting through a myriad of
mental files. "Wizards can call upon magic in three ways: corporeal,
through the body, incorporeal, through the mind, and langue d'charme, through
words of power, incantations.

“Wizards have long dominated the other magical
guilds, by virtue of a covenant forced on them by deception at Raven's Ghyll in
Britain centuries ago. With the exception of wizards, each guild operates in a
selective realm of magic, and each is supreme in its own realm. For example,
warriors like Jack and Ellen dominate in the physical, corporeal world of
warfare. Their magic depends on physical proximity and strength. There is no
mind magic about it. In a fair, physical fight, a warrior will overcome a
wizard every time.” He smiled ruefully. "Naturally, a wizard wouldn't
confront a warrior in a fair fight. We have other ways to dominate.

"Enchanters like Linda specialize in magic of the
mind and emotions. Again, they are supreme in their own realm. Even wizards
have difficulty resisting an enchanter, and the Anaweir are particularly
vulnerable to them.

“Sorcerers specialize in material magic. They
create tools, compounds, materials that can do magical tasks, or enhance the
magic of others. They used to be much more powerful than they are now. Many
secrets of the sorcerers have been lost over time. That is why talismans of
ancient times are so highly prized.”

Seph was acutely aware of the weight of the dyrne
sefa under his shirt.

"Seers are probably the least powerful of the
Weir. They see the future, but often cannot interpret their visions in time to
do any good. Some of them use talismans—mirrors, crystals, and the like—to
focus and concentrate their power, to make it more effective, their visions
easier to read.

“If a wizard comes after you, he may use any of
the three realms. For example, he may use mind magic to influence you to do
something foolish. It's a subtle trick in the hands of wizards, most effective
on the Anaweir. Or he may use physical power. Wizards can inflict pain with a
touch.”

Seph lifted his hand to his face, thinking of Gregory
Leicester.

“You can be trained to resist a physical attack,
and you are powerful enough to do it, I believe. That leaves the use of charms.
You told me you had received some training in that regard.” The wizard
raised his eyebrows.

And so Seph went through his meager repertory,
demonstrating those charms he knew he could perform flawlessly—small, rough
magics that could be practiced in a dormitory room.

Nick nodded in approval when he was done. “There
are two components to a wizard's power when it comes to charms: the strength of
the stone he carries and the power of the articulated word. Have you had any
training in countercharms?”

Seph shook his head.

“Then we'll start with that. A wizard's charm is
like any other weapon. You must be alert for it at all times. And when the
attack comes, you need to counter it before he draws blood, so to speak. If he
completes it, it may be too late.” Nick marked a few passages in the
Weirbook. “Spend some time studying those charms. We'll review the charms
and the countercharms tomorrow.”

“You mean we're done?”

Nick smiled. “It's nearly five o'clock. I'm
surprised Jack isn't home already.”

“I have a question.” Seph had been leafing
through Jack's Weirbook, and it still lay open on his lap.

“What is it?”

“Everyone says the same things about wizards. We
take advantage of the Anaweir. We treat the other guilds like dirt. We're
always plotting against each other. What I want to know is: is it some kind of
inborn trait? If it is, why aren't you like that? I had a friend at school, and
he wasn't like that either.”

Nick sat back in his chair and thought a moment.
“The problem with wizards is that their power manifests while they are
still young. Young people shouldn't have so much power, because they lack
wisdom and discipline. They grow up spoiled, used to having their own
way.” He paused. “You can compare wizards to wine. The best quality
wines are harsh and strong when they are young. But good wines improve with
age. A poor quality wine never improves. Sometimes it gets worse. Wizards are
the same.” He leaned forward. “Sometimes I think it would be better
if all wizards were raised as you were, by Anaweir, ignorant of their powers
until they are grown. They might be more tolerant of others.”

There are drawbacks to that, Seph thought. The Anaweir
are not always tolerant of wizards.

Somehow it was easy to talk to Nick. He was like the
earth, wise and ancient and nonjudgmental.

“Do you know Gregory Leicester?” Seph asked.
He looked down at the Weirbook to avoid the old wizard's eyes.

Nick nodded. “I know him. He's one who hasn't
improved with age. But he's very powerful.”

“He murdered two of my friends. It was my
fault,” Seph added, recalling his months of torture at Leicester's hands,
Trevor's death, and the final capstone tragedy of Jason.

“Why do you think it was your fault?” Nick
asked gently.

“They were trying to help me. If it hadn't been
for me, they would still be alive.”

“Perhaps that was their choice, not yours.”

“They didn't choose to be murdered.” Seph
traced the names in Jack's genealogy with his forefinger, envious of his links
to family.

Nick studied him. “And now you mean to take
revenge on Dr. Leicester.”

Seph didn't respond, but embedded himself deeper into
the chair.

“A high-risk enterprise, certainly.” Nick
smoothed down his mustache with his thumb and forefinger. To Seph's surprise, the
old wizard appeared to take him seriously, but he didn't lecture him or try to
talk him out of it.

“What about the Dragon? Do you know where to find
him?” Seth asked.

“A risky admission to make, these days,”
Nick said.

Seph noticed he didn't really answer the question.
“I have information that might be helpful to him.”

Nick cleared his throat. “Perhaps you should
think of the Dragon as more of an icon representing a movement than as an
individual.”

“Fine. I'd like to talk to the icon who's been
ripping off magical weapons from the Roses, freeing members of the underguilds,
and posting Leicester's secrets on the Internet.”

Just then they heard a door slam elsewhere in the
house, and someone's noisy progress through the kitchen. “Hello?”
came the familiar voice. It was Jack.

“We're on the porch,” Seph called back.

A moment later, Jack joined them. “Hey, Nick.
Hey, Seph. I think I aced my government exam, even though I didn't get to
study.” He sprawled into one of the Adirondack chairs, seeming to fill up
the porch with his raw physical presence.

“Hey,” Jack said. “Did you hear there
was some kind of Satanic sacrifice on the commons?”

They filled Jack in on the news. “So Will's Uncle
Ross thinks you're a practitioner of the Old Religion?”

“Old Religion?” Seph looked from one to the
other for explanation. “Is that like Old Magic?”

“No. This is a kind of blood magic that predates
wizardry,” Nick explained. “It goes back to the polytheism that
existed before the Anglo Saxons came to Britain. Their ceremonies focused on
animal sacrifice, sometimes human sacrifice.” Seph shuddered, and the old
man smiled reassuringly. “Don't worry, Seph. Like the other gifts of the
Weir, wizardry is not a religion. It's a gift, and a talent and a calling. It's
compatible with Catholicism, or any other faith. You would be surprised how
many well-known defenders of the faith have been Weir.”

Maybe. But
when Seph thought of the display on the commons, it reminded him of the ritual
at the amphitheater at the Havens, Trevor's neck chain in the ashes.

It didn't help when Ross Childers brought Linda home
in late afternoon to report that the BMW was a total loss.

“I've never seen anything like it,” he said,
shaking his head, watching Seph for a reaction. “They slashed the seats to
ribbons and then they set the thing on fire. How they got it to burn, I have no
idea. It burned so hot the tires were melted to four puddles on the asphalt. It
would've been hard to even tell what make it was, but they wrote your name on
the pavement, just like they did at the fountain.” He whistled, like he
was glad it wasn't him. “You got any enemies Seph?”

Once school ended, Jack and Ellen and their friends
Will Childers and Harmon Fitch were in and out of the house all day long. Fitch
was tall and lanky, with bleached-blond hair, glasses, and an uncanny ability
to speak to computers in their own language. He spent several days helping Seph
build a new computer system to replace the one he'd left at the Havens.

Fitch had his own computer consulting and Web page development
business, counting among his customers the school board, Trinity College, the
town government, and chamber of commerce. He also had several major corporate
customers in Cleveland.

Seph began working for Fitch part time, writing basic
HTML code, taking digital photos for the sites, and calling on clients, since
Fitch's edgy thrift-shop attire freaked some of the corporate customers.

They worked for several weeks installing the hardware
for the first citywide wireless network. Fitch danced on rooftops like some
kind of manic digital maestro in a Wi-Fi headset, waving his arms and crying,
“More power! Need more power!”

Fitch rented space on the second floor of Blaise's
shop, since his four younger brothers and sisters made it impossible to work at
home. The room was lined with servers and flat screens. On Monday nights he
hosted a Multimedia Monday Monster Movie Megafest (5M).

While Fitch wasn't a member of any of the magical
guilds, Seph was reminded that there are many kinds of gifts. Fitch had the
ability to turn out the lights on the entire county or change any grade at
Trinity High School.

Seph also worked part time for Harold Fry down at the
docks, helping in the charter office and filling in dockside. He found he
enjoyed the physical labor at the harbor. His skin resisted the sun, as always,
but his body filled out, morphing from gaunt to lean and muscular.