The Sorcerer Heir

by Cinda Williams Chima

  “What’s the question?”

  “Is Kenzie dying?” Emma stared at the elevator doors, unable to meet his eyes.

  “We’re all dying,” Jonah said simply. “Some of us sooner than others.” He cleared his throat. “Kenzie’s really sick. His Weirstone is failing. But that new medicine is promising. I haven’t given up on him. I will do anything—whatever it takes—to save him. And that’s the truth.” He paused. “It means a lot, I think, that you two are friends.”

  He might as well have rammed a knife through her heart.

  With Mercedes Foster on the case, Leesha made a quick recovery from her injuries from the attack in the Flats. Maybe too quick. The old Leesha would have made the most of her convalescence, lolling about while others waited on her hand and foot. Especially since Fitch was one of those at her bedside. Responsible Leesha dragged herself out of bed on the second day so she and Fitch and Emma could meet with the Interguild task force that was investigating the Halloween killings along with the other mainliner murders.

  It was like pulling teeth to get Emma to come. Leesha guessed that it was only Emma’s growing trust in Leesha and Fitch that brought her to the church for the hearing. Leesha was determined to make sure she didn’t regret it. She pre-briefed some of the task force members on the need to be gentle, threatening dire consequences otherwise.

  Leesha got that Emma had a whole lot of reasons for being nervous. She’d admitted that she had a police record, and that she had no gift for talking in front of people. Being new to the magical guilds, she wasn’t used to having horrible experiences all the time. Still, Emma seemed unusually nervous. Bordering on guilty. When they filed into the church parlor, she wouldn’t make eye contact with anyone.

  The committee members included Mercedes as chair, Jack Swift, Blaise Highbourne, Seph McCauley, preschool parents Sylvia Morrison and Hilary Hudson, and Nancy Hackleford, the parent of a young wizard who’d been murdered back in the fall with Rowan DeVries’s sister. A murder she claimed was ordered by the council.

  Hackleford hadn’t been among the original members, but she’d kicked up a stink about their hand-selected cover-up committee and insisted that there be representation for the missing Rowan DeVries. Mercedes had agreed, since Madison had directed her to include people who were not actually on the Interguild Council in order to broaden the perspective of the members.

  Leesha didn’t think that Hackleford’s addition was an improvement in any way. Diversity has its downside, she thought. There are too many people on this task force, and too many of them have their own agendas.

  Leesha and Fitch sat on either side of Emma, who’d dressed in the same somber outfit she’d worn to Grace’s funeral. Seph sat next to Madison, who looked pale and thin, almost haunted.

  “Emma!” Jack said on his way to his seat. “Good to see you. I hear you’re living in town now. I keep thinking I’ll run into you, but I haven’t seen you since—for a while.”

  “I still spend a lot of time at the Anchorage,” Emma said. “I’m going to school there.” She cleared her throat. “And, you know, the band practices there.”

  “I’ve been meaning to text you or Jonah,” Jack said. “I’ve been following the band online, but the page hasn’t been updated. I was hoping to catch another show.”

  “Natalie does that,” Emma said. “Maybe she hasn’t kept it up since we haven’t had any gigs lately.”

  “Soon, I hope,” Jack said. Nodding to Leesha, he found a seat on the other side of the fireplace.

  Jack seemed to have taken Leesha’s lecture to heart. He was working so hard at not being scary that he reminded Leesha of a friendly Great Dane—a Great Dane who looked like young Hercules in a sweater and blue jeans.

  When Hackleford walked in, Emma’s eyes widened, and her hands tightened on the arms of her chair. “What’s she doing here?” she hissed.

  “Hackleford?” Leesha leaned in close. “She’s not on the council, but her daughter Brooke was murdered, along with Rowan DeVries’s sister. She claims that the underguilds are responsible.” Leesha paused. “Why, do you know her?”

  “N-no,” Emma said, but Leesha knew she was lying.

  As if cued by the intensity of Emma’s stare, Hackleford looked their way. When she saw Emma, she froze for a split second. If Leesha hadn’t been looking straight at her, she would have missed it.

  How would they know each other? Leesha wondered.

  “Don’t worry,” Leesha whispered, squeezing Emma’s hand. “Fitch and I will tell them what happened. You speak up if we get anything wrong. And then we’ll all answer questions. Okay?”

  Emma nodded, her lips pressed tightly together like she was afraid she might say something by accident.

  “Everyone’s here, so I suggest we get started,” Mercedes said. She looked toward the three witnesses. “This is an informal inquiry to allow the task force to learn more about the incident that occurred two days ago. Just tell us what happened in your own words. Jack will be taking notes, so he might have a question or two for clarity.”

  “I will, of course, be taking my own notes,” Nancy Hackleford said, setting the tone right away.

  Mercedes cleared her throat. “Perhaps we should begin by introducing ourselves for our first-timers. I am Mercedes Foster, sorcerer and member of the Interguild Council.”

  They went around the circle, each member introducing him or herself. Morrison and Hudson introduced themselves as “wizard and concerned parent.” Fitch introduced himself as “friend of the guilds.”

  When they got to Emma, she said, “I’m Emma Lee, a musician. And student.”

  “What guild are you in, dear?” Morrison asked, squinting at her.

  “I’m not really in a guild,” Emma said. “I go to school at the Anchorage.”

  “The Anchorage!” Morrison’s expression changed from solicitous to horrified. “But that’s—that’s—” Sucking in a breath, she plunged on, “That’s Gabriel Mandrake’s school for magical mutants.” She pointed a shaking finger at Emma. “Should she really be here?”

  “Sylvia!” Leesha planted her feet and stood. “Shut the hell up. How is it that your daughter Olivia has better manners than you do?”

  Vibrating with rage, Morrison opened her mouth to respond.

  “People!” Mercedes didn’t have a gavel, but somehow she didn’t need one. “I will not have any member of this committee badgering, abusing, or slandering these witnesses. They have graciously agreed to come here to help us do our work. I hope you’re aware that when it comes to compelling witnesses to testify, we are on shaky legal ground.”

  Hackleford rolled her eyes. “I remember a time when we didn’t have to jump through all these legal hoops in order to get at the truth,” she said. Her eyes were fixed on Emma, who seemed to shrink down a little more.

  “I remember that time, too,” Mercedes said, in a cold, cutting voice. “And we’ll go back there over my dead body.” She paused to let that sink in. “I’ve been asked to chair this task force, and I will do my job. The next person who launches a verbal attack will be escorted out of this hearing. I will be the sole judge of what constitutes a verbal attack. Am I clear?” She looked around the room. Emma wasn’t the only person avoiding eye contact.

  “Now, then,” Mercedes said, sweetly. “Leesha? Why don’t you begin?”

  Leesha told what happened in the least sensationalized way a person could describe a zombie attack. Now and then Fitch broke in to clarify something or add some detail she’d overlooked. Emma said absolutely nothing, just sat there looking miserable.

  In that regard, she and Madison Moss were like a matched set of bookends.

  Leesha managed to get to the end of the story with no more interruptions. “Are there any questions?” she said.

  Concerned parent Hilary Hudson raised her hand. “It seems to me that this entire episode could h
ave been prevented had you taken action after the Montessori incident. It is obvious that the children were telling the truth.”

  “Is that a question?” Fitch murmured so only Emma and Leesha could hear.

  “What kind of weapons did they have?” Jack asked. “Did they seem to be freelancing, or fighting in a coordinated way—like an army?”

  “Their weapons seemed to be whatever they could get their hands on,” Fitch said. “Iron bars, wooden boards, and axes. Like that. As to whether they were coordinated, I was running for my life, so I couldn’t say for sure.”

  “When you say they were zombie-like, could you explain what you mean?” Mercedes asked. “Did the cadavers appear to be in a state of advanced decay, or—?”

  “Some of them were,” Leesha said. “Others looked superficially normal. Keep in mind, it was dark and chaotic and—”

  “So what makes you think they weren’t street thugs, then?” Blaise Highbourne asked. “Members of a local gang. High on meth or something?”

  “For one thing, they weren’t vulnerable to conjury,” Leesha said. “Even if I flamed them, their bodies burned, but they didn’t seem to feel it. The only way I could stop them was through some kind of physical obstacle, like if I blew a hole in the pavement and they couldn’t get around it.”

  “If you hacked off a limb, they’d just keep coming,” Fitch said, shuddering. “It’s like they don’t feel pain. Jonah said that the best way to stop them was to take off their legs, so they couldn’t chase after you.”

  “Tell us more about this Jonah Kinlock,” Hackleford said. “You claim he just showed up out of nowhere and saved your lives?”

  Leesha and Fitch looked at each other. “Pretty much,” Leesha said. “I don’t know what would have happened other wise. He’s an incredible fighter.”

  “Isn’t it fortunate that he just happened along when he did,” Morrison murmured. “That mirrors what the children said. Whenever zombies appear, young Kinlock isn’t far behind.”

  Leesha’s face heated. “It was fortunate,” she said.

  “Maybe he’s like one of those arsonists who start a fire and then show up to watch the show,” Morrison persisted.

  “He was not watching,” Fitch growled. “He was—”

  “Participating?” Morrison cocked her head.

  Emma leaned forward, speaking up for the first time. “It’s not fair, talking behind Jonah’s back when he’s not here to defend himself,” she said.

  “Why isn’t he here, then?” Morrison asked, looking at Leesha.

  “We invited him, but he declined to come,” Leesha said reluctantly.

  For a long moment, nobody said anything. Then Seph tried to change the subject. “Where exactly were you going when you came under attack?” he asked. “Could they have followed you from somewhere else?”

  “We’d only gone to one place—it was called Tonks, I think,” Fitch said, looking to Emma for confirmation. She nodded.

  “Had you been drinking?” Mercedes asked.

  “We’d had a few,” Leesha said. “I’d had—what?—three or four Cokes? Fitch was drinking root beer, so he tried to pace himself.” Turning to Emma, she asked, “What were you drinking, Emma?”

  “Orange soda,” Emma said softly.

  “So,” Fitch said, with a warning look at Leesha. “Emma had heard about this club down in the Flats that showcased indie bands. We—”

  “What club was that?” Morrison directed this question at Emma, who blinked up at her.

  “I—I can’t think of the name of it,” Emma said, picking at the fabric in her skirt. “I thought I knew where it was, but then we couldn’t find it.”

  “So you were the one who lured them down into the Flats,” Morrison said.

  “What is that supposed to mean?” Leesha growled. “We asked Emma to come along with us.”

  “All I know is that the gifted have ventured into that neighborhood twice, and been attacked by monsters both times,” Morrison said. “I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again—the proximity to Mandrake’s school can’t be coincidental. I wouldn’t set foot down there.”

  “Really?” Hackleford said, looking amused. “I am not convinced that any of this actually happened.”

  Everyone turned and stared at the wizard.

  “It is simply not credible that you three were attacked by an army of animated cadavers. Cadavers who resist magic and can fight off a wizard. And after this massive battle, a mysterious superhero arrives in the nick of time so that all three of you survive.”

  “All right, I confess,” Leesha said. “I came up with this nefarious plan because I haven’t been beaten up in a really long time.”

  Hackleford dismissed Leesha’s injuries with a wave of her hand. “A few cuts and bruises, that’s all. Easy enough to fake.”

  Mercedes was figuratively giving off sparks. “I assure you that Leesha’s injuries, while not life-threatening, were—”

  “If this is a common occurrence, then why isn’t there a city-wide alarm?” Hackleford said.

  “I don’t know that it’s a common occurrence,” Morrison said. “We’re aware of two instances that—”

  “Were only witnessed by children and council insiders,” Hackleford said.

  “I’m not a council insider,” Emma murmured.

  “Me neither,” Fitch said. Neither spoke loudly enough for anyone but Leesha to hear.

  “And we would devise this elaborate scheme because...?” Seph leaned back, templing his fingers and looking out from under his dark brows. In that moment, he looked more like his father, Hastings, than ever.

  “It seems to me that this whole episode might be a red herring to distract us from the real targets and the real culprits,” Hackleford said.

  “Who would be—?” Seph tilted his head.

  “Wizards continue to die, and the underguilds don’t want the blame, and so they conjure up a story about zombies.” Hackleford snorted. “Zombies who resist magic. That, my friends, is preposterous. I surmise that the reason there have been two incidents within thirty miles of us is that it’s an easy commute for operatives from Trinity.”

  By now Morrison was on her feet. Leaning forward, she planted her hands on the table and thrust her head forward into Hackleford’s face. “If my Olivia said there were zombies, there were zombies,” she said through gritted teeth. “What we should do is clean out that nest of vipers downtown and see if these incidents stop.”

  “I really don’t care whether Mandrake’s unfortunates are involved in this or not,” Hackleford said. “Clearly, they are incapable of organizing this conspiracy themselves, so we know that somebody else was the mastermind. Cut off the head of the snake and the rest will die. Under the old system, at least, there was a mechanism for deciding disputes and eliminating threats to the common good. I’ve not seen anything of value come out of the so-called Interguild Council. If these killings continue, the Wizard Guild will take unilateral action.”

  “Really,” Seph said, his eyes glinting green. “Being a wizard myself, then, shall I assume that you will keep me apprised of your plans?”

  “Hackleford!” It was a new voice. Everyone turned to look, and it was Madison.

  “You lost your daughter,” Madison said. “I lost my little sister. No one is more interested in solving this than me. If you can get the evidence to prove your allegations, you will see action, and you’ll see it quick. But I’m committed to getting it right. If the Wizard Council acts, and you get it wrong, you can expect to pay a huge price. A huge price.”

  Madison turned to Leesha. “It seems to me that the missing piece of the puzzle is Jonah Kinlock. He was at the Halloween party, he was present for this attack, and it sounds very much like he was on-site the night of the Montessori attack. We’re not going to clear this up until we talk to him.”

  �
��I’m friendly with Gabriel Mandrake,” Mercedes said. “It may be that if I approach him directly, he’ll make Jonah available for questioning.”

  Good luck with that, Leesha thought.

  When the hearing was over, Leesha, Fitch, and Emma walked into the churchyard. As always, Leesha’s eyes were drawn to the small cemetery next to the church. Snow swirled around the gravestones and coated the frail, frozen flower arrangements, now brown and seared with frost.

  “Hang on,” Leesha said to the others. She entered through the gate and crossed to one particular grave that was as green as it might have been in mid-June, red and white roses blooming everywhere, and vines twining up and over the stone. Their scent perfumed the lean winter air, and the snow melted as soon as it hit.

  Unlike some of the others, this gravestone was relatively new. Leesha ran her fingers over the letters cut into the stone.

  Draca Heorte

  Jason Haley

  Gone, But Not Forgotten

  And his birth and death dates.

  Jason Haley. The boy Leesha loved and betrayed and lost in one thrilling and heart-breaking year. The boy who wanted, more than anything, to make a difference.

  Leesha heard the crunch of snow as Emma and Fitch came up behind her. She knelt, and swept away sticks and dry leaves that had collected on the windward side of the stone.

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” Emma said.

  “I like that he’s buried here,” Leesha said. “So that when I come in and out of these mind-numbing, frustrating meetings I can remember why I’m doing this.”

  “What does that mean?” Emma asked, hesitantly. “Draca...”

  “It’s Old English,” Leesha said. “It means Dragon Heart.”

  It was the third time Emma had called Jonah, and the third time it had gone to voice mail. So this time she left a message.

  “Jonah? It’s me, Emma. Call me if you get this. Bye.”

  Clicking off, she sipped at her coffee, which had gone cold. It didn’t really matter, because it was one of those peppermint drinks they have at Christmas, which taste so much like dessert and so little like coffee that even Emma could drink them. Blotting up some doughnut crumbs with her finger, she sucked them into her mouth. The place was crowded with shoppers, and the coffee dude was giving her the evil eye, so she guessed she couldn’t stay there too much longer without buying something else.