The Heir Chronicles: Books I-III

by Cinda Williams Chima

  “Can’t we use it against them?” Bill asked.

  Seph shook his head. “We don’t know how.”

  “Could we . . . couldn’t we give it to them?” Ross asked. “I mean, if it’s no good, anyway.”

  “That’s not an option,” Nick said. “You’ll have to trust me on that.”

  What does he know that he’s not telling us? Jack wondered.

  “We’re just a small-town police force,” Ross said. “We don’t have the manpower or equipment to handle major trouble. We need help. I could call the governor’s office. Bring in the National Guard.”

  “It wouldn’t do any good,” Seph said. “They might kill a few wizards with conventional weapons, if they took them by surprise. Then the Roses would immobilize and slaughter them. There’d be just that many more bodies on the ground.”

  Ross nodded, looking almost relieved, as if he didn’t want to contemplate that conversation with the governor. “Okay. What if the—ah—underguilds left? Wouldn’t the—wizards leaveTrinity alone?” The police chief was doing the best he could to master the jargon, to grapple with the monsters who’d come out from under the bed.

  “It’s too late for that now,” Jason said. “There are hundreds of wizards out there. There’s no way we can get through without being captured or killed.”

  “These are children, too, remember.” Becka leaned her hips against the kitchen counter. “Whatever powers they have, you can’t expect them to . . . fall on their swords.”

  “It doesn’t matter, Mom,” Jack put in. “We’d try to bust out if we thought it would do any good. We’d surrender if we thought it would save the town. But . . . they know we’re intertwined with the people here. And wizards are vindictive. The Anaweir are throwaways to them. Those they think they can use as hostages, they’ll take captive. The rest, well . . .” He found he couldn’t quite put it into words.

  But Jason could. “They’ll kill everyone: men, women, children, down to the dogs and cats. There won’t be a building left standing. They’ll burn everything to the dirt. Then poison the ground so nothing grows here again. It’ll be like someone nuked the commons.”

  “Isn’t there anyone who can help?” Becka asked. “Where are Linda and Hastings?”

  “We don’t know, Becka,” Nick said softly. “They went to England, to secure a hoard of magical weapons, to keep them out of our enemies’ hands. So we’ll have to do the best we can on our own.” He patted her shoulder. “All is not lost. We have some principled wizards on our side. Seph may be young, but he’s quite powerful. And there’s Jason. Iris. And me,” he added, as if it were an afterthought.

  “And me,” Leesha said. She was still sitting on the hearth, but her chin came up stubbornly, like she was ready to pick a fight.

  “All right, Seph, Jason, Iris, me, and Leesha,” Nick said. “And a few others.”

  Dread coalesced in the pit of Jack’s stomach. A handful against hundreds. If they could even trust Leesha.

  “We have warriors,” Nick went on. “There’s Jack and Ellen, of course, and we also have a formidable army of ghost warriors. We have hundreds of sorcerers, enchanters, and seers. We hold a large collection of magical weapons, and we actually know how to use most of them.” Nick grinned, and Jack felt a little better.

  “All right, then,” Becka said, straightening, regaining her familiar focus. “Think. What can we do about the . . . people?

  We could put them in the Convocation Center, but that would just become an easy target.”

  “We need to hide them somewhere,” Ellen suggested. “Tell them some kind of story to make them stay put. How many basements would it take to hide ten thousand people?”

  “You know, I can’t picture telling citizens of Trinity we’re under attack by wizards,” Bill said. “Being drummed out of office is the least of it. I wish we could find a way to get them out of here.”

  And how, exactly, are we supposed to do that? Jack thought. Dig a tunnel under the wall? And how long would that take?

  That gave him a glimmer of an idea.

  “We have to come up with a place to put them until this is over,” Seph said. “Like . . . like a bomb shelter, or something.”

  “Well,” Jack said thoughtfully, “There’s the salt mines.”

  “Come on, Jack,” Jason snapped. “We don’t have time for ...”

  “I’m serious,” Jack said. “There’s plenty of room, and they’re well-ventilated and . . .”

  Jason’s bleak expression reorganized into interest. “What are you talking about?”

  “They mine salt under the lake,” Ross Childers explained, eyeing Jack speculatively. “Have for years. The mines are like huge, man-made caverns that go halfway to Canada.”

  Jack grinned. “Halfway to Canada, but all the way to the Sisters.”

  Bill Childers nodded grudgingly at Jack. “You know.

  That’s an idea.”

  “I never heard of any salt mines,” Jason said. “Where are they?”

  “The entrance is in the industrial park on the lakefront,” Ross explained. “Within the—ah—perimeter. Some students and faculty from the college got arrested for picketing there back in the spring. Seems there was a proposal to close the mines and use them as a nuclear waste reservoir.” Ross rubbed the bridge of his nose with his forefinger, looking over at Becka.

  Jack rolled his eyes. Naturally, his mother had been the ringleader of the protest.

  Becka waved her arrest away, not the least bit apologetic. “After we killed the nuclear waste idea, the owners gave us a private tour of the works. It’s like an underground palace, what they call room-and-pillar construction. The mines run as far north as the Sisters, and there are ventilation shafts that come up through some of the smaller islands.”

  “So we could bring people out through the mines and up on the Sisters,” Ross concluded.

  “It’ll be like the Mines of Moria,” Fitch said. “Hopefully without the orcs.”

  Jack nodded. “It’s not perfect. I mean, you’d still have to work out the food, and there’d be long lines for the Porta-Johns.”

  “We have tons of bottled water and MREs in the basement of City Hall,” Ross said. “In case of terrorist attack.”

  “Well, I’d say this qualifies,” Ellen muttered.

  “The food bank is full,” Becka said. “We just finished the annual drive. But how are we going to get people to go into the mine?”

  “Imminent nuclear accident,” Fitch proposed. “At Ohio Power. All of northwestern Ohio could be contaminated. It’d be better than a chemical spill, since radiation is nondetectable. So we go door-to-door and tell people they have an hour to pack ...”

  “Half an hour,” Seph put in.

  “Half an hour, and then they have to go down into the mines for their own protection until the all clear.”

  Seph leaned against the mantel. “Nobody’s allowed to leave. We can’t let word leak out about what we’re doing. The Anaweir will be vulnerable once they leave the sanctuary.”

  Jack shuddered. It was his idea, and if it all went bad . . .

  Ross’s thick fingers twitched, beating a tattoo on the table. “Once they reach the Sisters, we could fly them out then, or send boats from the mainland, and . . .”

  “No.” Seph shook his head. “No way. If the Roses get wind of it, they’d be even more vulnerable out on the water.

  “I’ll take care of the phone service on the islands, too,” he added. “We can’t let anyone know they’re there. Which means we have to finish this thing before the food runs out,” he said, half to himself.

  “Don’t worry,” Jason said, smiling crookedly. “Once this starts, it’ll be over in no time.”

  “Will and I’ll go door-to-door,” Fitch said. He was dressed in his urban-pirate garb, khakis and camouflage and military-surplus boots, heavy chains around his neck, a bandana tied rakishly around his head. Next to him, Will looked like a member of the Jaycees.

  “You’ll
need help,” Seph said, inspecting him skeptically.

  Jack knew what he was thinking. Some people in town would likely slam the door if Fitch appeared on their stoop in the middle of the night. “We have to reach everyone before people begin leaving for work.”

  “Fitch, why don’t you and Will handle college housing?” Becka suggested. “When you finish the dorms, start in on the streets south of campus. I’ll work the north end.”

  “I’ll help, too,” Leesha announced.

  Everyone swung around to look at her. Jack had forgotten she was there.

  “You?” Jack blurted.

  “You can use my help, you know,” she said defensively. “I can be very persuasive.”

  “We can use every willing hand,” Nick said.

  “Deal,” Fitch said. “You come with us. Let’s go.” He tossed Leesha a bandana like the one he wore. “Tie that on your head or arm or something.”

  Leesha glanced at Jason, who was gazing into the fireplace, pretending not to be listening, then followed Fitch out the door.

  Oh, well, Jack thought. If Fitch can forgive being kidnapped and dragged to the ghyll as a hostage, I can go with it.

  “Ellen and I will work the perimeter, to make sure no one sneaks out,” Jack said to Ross.

  “I’ll go back to the station and brief first shift,” Ross said. “I’ll send along some black and whites to help clear the houses, escort people to the mine, and keep them from slipping away. We’ll stick with the story about a nuclear accident.”

  He banged through the door.

  The others left in twos and threes until it was just Seph, Jack, Ellen, and Jason.

  “Well,” Ellen said, sliding Waymaker into its baldric. “We’d better get going, too.” Ellen looked from Seph to Jason. “What do we do when the Anaweir go? Do we go with them or what?”

  Jason shook his head. “If we go, the wizards will know we’ve escaped somehow. It won’t take them long to find the entrance to the mine. And if we take the Dragonheart with us, they’ll track us down for sure. I don’t think we want to be out on a rock in the middle of the lake when that happens. We have to make a stand, and here is as good a place as any.”

  But they’ll level the town, Jack thought. He felt his childhood spiraling away from him, like rope uncoiling from a spool. “It seems weird. Everybody knowing, I mean,” he said. “Even if we get through this, it’s never going to be the same.”

  “I don’t think that’s going to be a problem,” Jason said. “We’ll all be dead.”

  When Seph opened his mouth to speak, Jason raised his hand to stop him. “I know we have weapons. I know we have talent and smarts and right’s on our side and all that. But I’ve seen what’s out there. Wall or no wall, they’re coming in. If this were any kind of a fair fight, we’d win. As it is, we lose. No matter how much flame you take.”

  Seph stiffened. “I’m not ...”

  “Come on,” Jason muttered. “Do you think we’re stupid? As if you’re not juiced enough on your own.”

  “Seph.” Ellen stood and got in Seph’s face, coming up on the balls of her feet, her hands fisted at her sides. “You promised.”

  “I promised not to use it unnecessarily. And I don’t.”

  “It’d be nice if he’d share with some of the rest of us,” Jason said.

  “Come on, Ellen,” Jack said, suddenly eager to leave the stifling room behind and commit mayhem on someone. “Let’s go help round up the stragglers.”

  “So,” Jason said, when Jack and Ellen had gone, “you haven’t heard from your parents?”

  Seph looked at him warily, as if worried they were still on the topic of flame. Then he shook his head. “Wish I could’ve asked D’Orsay if he’d seen them, but I didn’t want to give anything away. I don’t even know if they made it to the ghyll.”

  “Well,” Jason said, “if they’re in Raven’s Ghyll Castle, that would explain why they haven’t called.”

  “Yeah.” Seph knuckled his forehead, as if it hurt. He looked bad, Jason thought. There were dark shadows under his eyes, the bones in his face stuck out even more than usual, and his hands trembled a little. When he noticed Jason looking, he shoved them into his pockets and glared at him, tight-lipped, as if daring him to raise the subject.

  Whatever, Jason thought. Nick and Linda and Hastings had dumped on Seph, for sure. And they were dancing all around the possibility that Linda and Hastings might be dead.

  Maudlin. You’re getting totally maudlin.

  “So it’s as bad as all that?” Seph asked.

  Jason looked up, startled, thinking Seph had somehow seen into his mind. But then Jason realized he was talking about the situation in the sanctuary.

  Jason recalled the ranks of pavilions that encircled the walls, the flicker of wizard lights through the trees. “Yeah.

  Worse.” He paused, wondering how to frame his next words. “I’ve been thinking. There’s some kind of connection between Madison and the Dragonheart. We should bring her back.”

  “No.” Seph answered so quickly that Jason knew he’d been thinking the same thing.

  “But she can help,” Jason persisted. “The Dragonheart is the key, and we need to give her a shot at it. It’s not just us. It’s everybody else, too. There’s going to be a slaughter. It could be the end of the underguilds.”

  “She’s not one of us. She has her family to think about.” Jason got the impression Seph was trying to convince him-self. “Besides, she may not be vulnerable to magic, but she can be killed just the same. I don’t want to be responsible for that.”

  “She’ll do it if you ask.”

  “You sound like my father.” Seph raked his hair back impatiently. “Of course she’d say yes if I went to her and told her we’d all be killed if she didn’t.”

  Jason shrugged. “I don’t like it either, but ...”

  “Don’t you get it? I’ve done nothing but put her in danger from the time we met. If we knew anything for sure, it’d be one thing. But it’s all hunches and speculation. We have no proof Madison could help us at all. If it’s as bad as you say and we bring her here, she’ll be killed with the rest of us. At least, this way, somebody stays alive.”

  Looks like there’s no easy way out of this, Jason thought. Maybe not even a hard way. And if they lost, well . . . He shivered. Wizards had a talent for torture and something to prove. He hadn’t forgotten his experiences at Leicester’s hands.

  Note to self: don’t be taken alive.

  He’d talk to Mercedes. Maybe she wouldn’t give him flame, but she’d have something—some kind of poison pill that could put him out of reach if need be.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Exodus

  Jason had never seen so much activity on the streets of Trinity, Ohio, at five in the morning. Police with hooded flashlights walked house-to-house, pounding on doors and rousting the occupants—smashing windows and clearing houses by force when necessary. Families poured out of their homes, towing suitcases and sleepy children, carrying duffle bags and pets in cages shrouded against the wind. Squad cars and ambulances hauled the aged and infirm.

  Jack and Ellen had pulled on their leather gauntlets and light chain mail. Their great swords poked up over their shoulders, but under the circumstances, no one paid them much mind. Getting away with stuff depends a lot on attitude, Jason thought.

  The evacuees had scrounged what protection they could. One entire family down to a babe in arms wore helmets fashioned out of aluminum foil to protect against radiation.

  The Cosmic Shop next to campus had opened its doors and was doing a brisk business in healing crystals.

  Will and Fitch and Leesha had done their work in the dormitories and student apartments. Students cruised by on skateboards, bikes, and rollerblades, wearing backpacks, headphones, and earbuds, wrapped in fleece blankets, carrying stuffed animals and cradling laptops. Many were still dressed in nightclothes under their coats: T-shirts and sweatpants, flip-flops or clogs. They looked like
refugees from a country that favored audio technology, impractical footwear, and personal transportation.

  At street corners, marshals clad in bright yellow storm coats labeled TRINITY POLICE directed the flow of people toward the lake.

  “Hey, man!” A student shoved his radio toward Fitch and tapped his headphones. “How come I can’t get any stations?”

  “Must be radiation,” Fitch replied.

  Despite the crowds, and maybe because of the early hour, the exodus was relatively quiet. People shuffled along silently, clutching their belongings, fear and apprehension on their faces.

  Good, Jason thought. Maybe we can actually pull this thing off without attracting the attention of the wizards outside.

  Jason left the flow of traffic toward the salt mine and veered west along the lakeshore. Lightning strobed almost continuously, and thunder rattled the windows of the beach-side cottages. Waves thrashed against the breakwater, drenching him in freezing spray. The wind howled off the lake and ice pellets stung his exposed flesh.

  Wizards making a point.

  He worked his way down the row of cottages, perfecting his evacuation system. If there was no answer when he knocked, he’d blow a hole in the door, reach in, and unlock it. He’d rouse the family, apply Persuasion to the head of household to get immediate cooperation (no one would agree to venture out in that weather otherwise), and hustle them out. He had it down to fifteen minutes per, after a few.

  Just inside the Weirwall was Shrewsbury Place, looking like a wad of pink stucco bubblegum stuck onto the lake-front. He’d visited there when Leesha was staying with Aunt Millisandra. Before he went to Coalton County. Now Leesha was staying at Snowbeard’s. But what about Aunt Milli?

  He checked out the compound, which was embroidered with an elaborate wrought-iron fence. Leesha would’ve already come and picked up her aunt. She must’ve.

  But she was working the south end, by campus.

  No one answered when he knocked, so he let himself in the usual way.

  People tended to wake up when he blew out the door, but no one responded, and he hoped that meant Aunt Milli was gone already.