The Heir Chronicles Omnibus

by Cinda Williams Chima

“Jason,” Leesha said, perched on the edge of her chair as if she were ready to spring. “His name’s Jason, Aunt Milli.”

  They were sitting in a stuffy parlor decorated with highly flammable pine roping and a dried-out Christmas tree. The only light came from stubs of candles nestled dangerously in the greens.

  “You’re sure it’s not Jasper? I used to know a Jasper. Jasper DeVilliers. He was French, a bit underpowered, if you know what I mean, but quite the ladies’ man.” Aunt Millisandra fixed Jason with her purple-shadowed eyes, as if expecting to extract a confession.

  Jason shook his head. “Jason,” he said.

  “A peculiar name, Jason. Would you like another cookie, young man?” Millisandra extended a tray of charred and soggy shortbread. They’d started out okay, but then she’d set fire to them while trying to heat up the tea and had to extinguish them with lemonade.

  “Um. That’s okay. I’ve eaten lots already.”

  Leesha’s Aunt Millisandra reminded Jason of one of those dried-up insect carcasses you sometimes found—fragile, like she might crack open if you touched her. She was about a million years old, the richest woman in town—and a wizard who’d lost some key cards from her mental deck. Spending time with her was about as chancy as sitting in the middle of a bonfire with a crate of cherry bombs on your lap.

  “More tea, then?”

  “No, thanks.” He looked at his watch. Nine p.m. “Whoa, look at the time. I had no idea.” He stood.‘Thanks for the tea and all.”

  “In for a penny, in for a pound,” Aunt Milli said, waving her hand and shattering glasses all around the room.

  “I’ll walk you out,” Leesha said, jumping to her feet.

  In the foyer, she grabbed his hand. “Sorry. I thought she’d be asleep by now!” she hissed.

  “Guess not.”

  “I think she likes you.”

  “If only my name was Jasper.”

  “Look, I know she’s kind of—dangerous—now, but she’s my favorite aunt. She used to take me all kinds of places. Whenever my parents didn’t want me around, she’d always take me in.”

  “I could’ve used a relative like that,” Jason said, forgetting the usual self-edit.

  Leesha stood on tiptoes and brushed her lips across his cheek, nearly missing. “‘Bye, Jason.”

  “Can’t you come out? There must be someplace we can go.”

  Leesha glanced over her shoulder. “I’d better not.” She’d seemed oddly jittery all evening, as if she’d had too much caffeine or something. It was almost like she was glad old Aunt Milli was there to serve as chaperone. As she turned back around, he noticed that her face seemed oddly misshapen.

  Jason grasped Leesha’s chin and turned her face up toward the porchlight. She flinched and pulled away.

  “What happened to your face?” One side of it was swollen, and he could see bruises under the makeup. It hadn’t been apparent in the candlelit parlor.

  Leesha turned away from the light. “It was Aunt Milli. She took out a wall in the conservatory. I’m afraid we’re going to have to put her in a home.”

  Were there homes for wizards with dementia? “Seems like you should slip some Weirsbane into her tea. She’d be easier to handle if she wasn’t always setting things on fire.”

  “I’ve tried that. She can always tell.” She paused. “Maybe tomorrow we could go to Cleveland or something. Someplace away.”

  Jason shrugged. “Maybe.” There was nothing else to do but leave, so he left.

  He walked home through dark streets. They’d been to the park twice that week already. In really cold weather, they hung out at matinees, where they were unlikely to be spotted, or went back to Leesha’s house—er—mansion. Usually Aunt Millisandra went to bed early, but lately she’d had insomnia, or something.

  He hadn’t done so much sneaking around since he lived back at home with his dad and stepmother. That seemed like a lifetime ago. It was hard to keep a secret in a small town. He wasn’t exactly answerable to Nick or Linda or anyone else, except maybe Hastings. He’d just prefer to avoid the lecture if he could. Jack, Will, Fitch, Seph, Ellen—they all hated and mistrusted Leesha Middleton.

  So why didn’t he? Not that he totally trusted her, but there was a reckless intensity to their relationship that appealed to him. She was the only spark in an otherwise dismal existence. Otherwise, he was going through the motions, marking time, contributing nothing.

  Leesha’d had a hard life, in a way—she’d been an inconvenience to her aristocratic wizard parents until her escapades in the Trade made her an embarrassment. She was a survivor, but still somehow vulnerable, and she never did anything halfway.

  He laughed. You are so out of your league, he thought. It was the story of his life.

  When he arrived home, Linda Downey was in the kitchen, dishing ice cream into a blender.

  “Jason! You’re just in time. I’m making milkshakes.” Linda gripped both his hands, warming him all the way to his toes.

  “Milkshakes,” he repeated stupidly. “I’m glad I came.”

  “You’ve got lipstick on your face,” she said, reaching up and rubbing it off with her forefinger.

  He liked that about Linda. She didn’t ask hard questions. Then he noticed her suitcase sitting by the door. “You going someplace?”

  She hesitated. “I’m meeting Leander in Britain.”

  “Right. Well. Great.” His face burned, and the words seemed to stick in his throat. “Bon voyage, I guess.”

  He went to turn away, and she gripped his arm. “Seph’s in the solarium,” she said, looking anxiously up into his eyes. “He’s been waiting for you. He needs help with something.” She nodded toward the back of the house.

  Right. Probably wants me to shine his shoes. Feeling irritable and uncooperative, Jason went to find Seph.

  Seph sat next to the windows reading in a puddle of light cast by a single table lamp. Past the patio there was a strip of snowy lawn, then a wall that marked the dropoff to the lake. In the background, the waves crashed in a northwest wind, claiming and relinquishing the beach.

  Seph looked up and marked his place with a finger. “Jase! Where’ve you been?”

  Jason shrugged. “Here and there. What’s up?”

  No answer. Seph sat motionless, staring into space, like he’d checked out completely. It was like talking to someone wearing headphones or reading his e-mail at the same time. Jason knew Seph must be monitoring the boundary.

  “What are you reading?” Jason asked, trying to break in.

  Seph looked up, a little startled. “AP Physics. We’re having another practice test next week.”

  Jason dropped into a wrought-iron chair. “Can you really do both those things at the same time?” I couldn’t do one of those things at the same time, he thought to himself.

  In fact, Seph looked bad, kind of hollow-cheeked and twitchy, and his eyes glittered and burned. “You sound like Lin ...my mom.”

  As if on cue, Linda appeared, carrying two tall milk-shakes on a tray. And a big bowl of trail mix.

  She clunked a milkshake down in front of Seph. “Here. See that you finish this. And you can let go of the boundary in a few minutes. Iris said she’d take over at ten.”

  “I’m okay.” Seph sat up a little straighter. “I can keep it a while longer. Till I go to bed, anyway.”

  “We’ve already talked about pushing yourself, Seph. Don’t argue.” It was one of the few times Jason had seen Seph’s mother exerting parental authority.

  When she went back into the house, Jason said, “She acts like you’re an invalid or something.”

  Seph shrugged and looked away. “Yeah. Well.”

  Seph obviously wasn’t going to tell him what was going on. Jason tried again. “She seems kind of stressed.”

  Seph sucked down some milkshake and set the glass down. “It’s the whole deal with being in charge while my father’s away. She’d like to get some more wizards who could watch the perimeter, to give us a break, but
Snowbeard is worried about trusting anyone new.”

  You could try me, Jason thought. He didn’t bother to say it aloud.

  “Nick’s really fixated on that stuff you brought back from Britain,” Seph went on. “Linda’s good at managing the other guilds, but wizards always think they should be running everything. Some of them aren’t used to taking orders from an enchanter.”

  Seph seemed to be avoiding mention of Linda’s travel plans, so Jason said, “And now she’s going to Britain.”

  Seph nodded while watching Jason, as if wary of his reaction. “So she’s leaving, and she’s worried about leaving me on my own.” Seph leaned his head back. His mind seemed to drift again for a moment, then he said, “You still wear the dyrne sefa?”

  In answer, Jason fished the pendant out from under his shirt.

  Seph smiled. “Remember when we used to go out in the woods and practice wizardry at the Havens?”

  Jason didn’t particularly want to remember his time at the Havens—especially what had happened to his father. Plus it just highlighted the magical performance gap that had grown between him and Seph. He found that contrast more and more oppressive.

  “I taught you everything I knew. Which wasn’t much. And now you’ve gone way beyond me. But Linda says you want to ask me something.”

  “I need to ask you a favor.”

  “Which is ...?”

  “Someone broke into Maddie’s room the other night.”

  Jason waited, and when Seph didn’t go on, asked, “Did they take anything?”

  “We don’t know. I looked around, but I couldn’t tell if anything was missing.”

  “What’s she say?”

  “I can’t reach her. Their phone’s disconnected and her cell phone doesn’t work at her house. I e-mailed her, but I don’t know when she’ll get the message.”

  Where’s this leading? Jason thought. “Maybe it was someone who knew she was gone and thought they’d take advantage.”

  “They used magic to blow a hole in her door.” Seph paused long enough to let this sink in. “Hers was the only room they touched. And she’s got nothing to steal.” He looked out at the lake. “I didn’t want her to leave in the first place. It’s bad enough if they go after her because of me. But if they know what she can do . . .”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “Go down there and bring her back. I’d go myself, but Snowbeard wants me here. Besides, they’ll be looking for me to go. You’re less likely to lead them to her.” Seph paused and cleared his throat. “There’s something else. There was something left behind in her room, a painting with a hex in it, targeted at me. It hit me pretty hard.”

  “Whoa.” Jason stared at him. That explained Seph’s haggard appearance, then. But if he was handling the boundary, he couldn’t be too bad off. “Are you okay? Did the ...”

  “I’m fine,” Seph snapped. “But it was Madison’s painting. So Snowbeard thinks Madison may be . . . may have turned.” He muttered this last, as if he didn’t want to honor it by saying it out loud.

  Jason considered this. He’d known there was something off between Seph and Madison, but he still would’ve said they were crazy about each other.

  Then again, you had to consider what Seph was competing against. A Claude D’Orsay or Jessamine Longbranch could make Madison rich beyond her wildest dreams. Rich enough to attend any art school in the country.

  So he chose the safest response. “What do you think?”

  “What do you mean, what do I think?” Seph leaned forward, practically shedding sparks. “It’s impossible. She wouldn’t do that.”

  “Okay, okay.” Jason raised his hands to ward off harm. “I’m not disagreeing. But still, maybe it isn’t a good idea to bring her back here if she may be . . .”

  “Why would she have gone back home if she was plotting something? That makes no sense.”

  “Well. If she left you a spell-bomb, wouldn’t she want to be as far away as possible when it went off?”

  Seph stood, towering over Jason. Power bled from his skin and ran in rivulets to the floor, where it scorched a ring into the flagstones. He looked dragged-out tired, but hyper-juiced at the same time.

  “Hey, man, will you chill?” Jason said. “I’m not disagreeing with you, just asking questions. Or is that not allowed?”

  Seph glared at him a moment, then subsided back into his chair, trembling.

  Gotta tread easy here, Jason thought. He tried to think of something harmless to say. “So. Um. Does Snowbeard know you’re asking me to do this?”

  Seph massaged his forehead as if to pry loose a reluctant truth. “It was kind of Nick’s idea. He wants you to go to Coalton County and spy on Madison and find out what the story is. Is she in danger, or is she working for the Roses or what? Is anyone else hanging around down there who might be behind the attack on me?” He looked up at Jason. “So you can do both. Check on those things and bring her back.” He looked away. “Either way. If she’s working against us, we can’t . . . we can’t risk letting it continue. If she’s not, we can’t risk leaving her out there on her own.”

  And what are you going to do if it turns out she has gone over to the dark side, Jason thought.

  “I’m not exactly the go-to person when it comes to wizardry.” He shook his head when Seph made as if to disagree. “Just ...don’t. Why me?”

  Seph shrugged, surrendering. “I can’t leave, and neither can Nick. With Madison, it doesn’t matter how powerful you are. It’s almost a disadvantage to be juiced.” He smiled apologetically.

  “Why send a wizard, then?”

  “Well. In . . . in case she’s . . . in case there are wizards down there. That she’s working with.”

  This was killing Seph, Jason knew. And if Jason brought back the news that Madison had turned, he just might kill the messenger. He tried a joke. “What if she won’t come? My deadly charm won’t work on her, you know.”

  Seph didn’t look amused. “Convince her.” He raked a hand through his hair. “I know you’re back in school, but it should-n’t take more than a couple of days to go down there and bring her back. Three or four days would give you time to scout around and ask questions, I guess.”

  He put his blistering hand on Jason’s arm and looked him in the eyes. “Whatever happens, Jase, we need you back here when you’re done. We’ve got some plans in the works that need wizardry, and that’s what we’re short on.”

  Jason considered this, taking his time. Seph wouldn’t send Jason to Madison if he didn’t think it was necessary. Otherwise the risk would outweigh the benefit. And, just as obviously, Jason was more expendable than either Seph or Nick.

  Should he go? It would get him out of Trinity, though he guessed Coal Grove wouldn’t be an improvement. But this might be the opening he needed to break away, to get out from under Nick’s supervision and the obligation he felt to Seph. He could do him this one last favor, and then . . .

  “How would I get down there?”

  “I made Madison write out directions before she left. My mother says you can use her car, since she’s leaving, anyway.” Seph grinned, looking more like his old self. “Just make sure you bring it back in one piece.”

  Sweet. Linda drove a BMW Z4 roadster convertible.

  Though Madison might have to drive her truck back if she wanted to bring more than a toothbrush.

  The coil of tension inside Jason unwound a notch. It was a plan. He had some money saved up from working at the docks over the past year. He’d retrieve a few magical items from St. Catherine’s that might help him in Britain. He’d accompany Madison back as far as Columbus, then send her on. By the time they realized he was gone, he could be back at Raven’s Ghyll. He’d make Hastings take him on. If not, there were other places to go in the world, other battles to fight.

  Right.

  Of course this only worked if Madison was on their side.

  “Okay. I’m on my way. Draw me a map while I pack my stuff.”


  It was just getting light when Jason parked the BMW in the lot at St. Catherine’s.

  The tiny trunk was already loaded with his clothes and music. Once on his way, he didn’t plan on stopping. He hoped to leave town without dealing with Nick or Mercedes. With any luck, they’d slept late.

  He felt bad about Leesha, but he’d text her to let her know he was gone, once he was on his way. He didn’t feel like he could risk an in-person goodbye. When he was settled, he could get back in touch.

  Using the key he’d copied from Seph’s, he descended to the chilly darkness of the crypt and disabled the charms that had been laid over Thomas Swift’s unused tomb. The magical pieces were sorted, labeled, and for the most part, put away.

  The Dragonheart mocked him from its ornate stand in the corner, awakening a hopeless longing as his Weirstone responded. He and Nick and Mercedes had tried everything they knew, but nobody had been able to touch the stone since that day he’d first gone out with Leesha right after Madison had left. He struggled to relate those different events, and gave up.

  If the text from the cave could be believed, they had a weapon of unmatchable power, and they couldn’t even get near it.

  Maybe it’d be easier to accept if he was far away. Maybe he wouldn’t feel so barren and empty.

  He’d take only a few things that Nick and Mercedes might overlook. He ran through the possibilities. He had no need for lovestones; that had never been a problem. Nor collars for captives; he planned to take no prisoners. He wasn’t about to carry around magic mirrors that weren’t reliable anyway. But scrying stones were small and might lead him to what he was looking for. Amulets and talismans were always useful.

  He lifted one of the magical daggers and weighed it in his hand. That might give him an edge against a more powerful adversary—D’Orsay or anybody else.

  In the end, he chose a dagger, a scrying stone, a talisman for protection, and an amulet that was supposed to give strength to the bearer. He already had the dyrne sefa given to him by his mother—good for multiple purposes. He slid the chosen items into his backpack and left the rest where they were.

  When he came out of the church, he skidded to a stop. Leesha was leaning against his car. He should’ve used the less accessible but more private water gate. Ordinarily, he’d be glad to see her, but he just wasn’t in a position to be answering questions this morning.