The Sorcerer Heir (Heir Chronicles)

by Cinda Williams Chima

  Alison waved his concern away. “I’m okay. But this kind of thing keeps happening,” she muttered. “Gabriel doesn’t want us to carry weapons—he thinks that raises the chances of an incident. But the shades are getting more aggressive by the day. I wish Gabriel or Lilith would at least talk to them.”

  The shades were right, in a way, about the blood magic. There was a limited supply, and Lilith and her inner circle were either using it themselves or offering it to Nightshade members who had been physically declining. It made sense to try to preserve the bodies they were born into. It also made sense to win over their former enemies in that way.

  Apparently, it was working. Jonah was continually ambushed by how healthy some of his comrades from Nightshade looked—better than they had within memory. Alison was the one who was most visibly transformed. She looked worlds better than she had even a few days ago. The sores that had been erupting all over her body had nearly disappeared, and she’d put on some muscle. Even her hair seemed shinier, as if she’d shed a dirty gray caul. She seemed clearheaded, less erratic than she had been.

  Even as he watched, the cut on her forehead was closing, shrinking, fading until it was just a fine white line.

  Gabriel had offered to supply Jonah, but he’d declined. It didn’t seem right for shades to go without blood magic while seeing their former enemies blooming with health. Plus Jonah couldn’t get past the source of it. That sense of justice hardwired into him—it was damned inconvenient.

  So far, it was only Gabriel, Lilith, and her small cadre of lieutenants who participated in the decision-making. Jonah was on the outside, his loyalty enforced by his devotion to Kenzie. The living survivors were vastly outnumbered, though it evened up a bit if you only counted hosted shades.

  “Jonah?” Alison touched his arm, pulling him back into the present.

  “Don’t mind me. I was...”

  “I wanted to apologize to you.” She spat it out fast, as if she wanted to avoid thinking before she spoke.

  That set Jonah back on his heels. “Apologize? For what?”

  “Since I’ve been taking the blood magic, it’s like these giant holes in my memory have been filling in. I think I’ve said and done some things that were—that were—that I regret now.”

  “That’s business as usual for me,” Jonah said. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “But I am worried about it,” Alison said, her eyes clouded with remorse. “It’s like I turned into this crazy, enraged person—one with no judgment at all.”

  “I think I can match you anytime when it comes to crazy,” Jonah said.

  “Why would I forget that we are friends? How could that happen?”

  It’s called fading, Jonah thought, but would never say that out loud. “I’m just glad you’re feeling better,” he said. “So let’s call an apology truce. Okay? I still owe you for saving my butt at the bridge.”

  He swiveled as the door banged open, expecting more trouble. It was Charlie Dugard. Which probably did mean more trouble from the look on his face. Charlie had gone over to Trinity to eavesdrop on the hearing Emma had mentioned. Jonah had wanted to go and hear it for himself, but there was too much chance he’d be recognized, as would Natalie or Alison—anyone in Fault Tolerant.

  “How’d it go?” Jonah asked.

  Charlie met his gaze momentarily, then his eyes shifted away. “Not well,” he said. “Where’s Gabriel?”

  “That’s the question on everyone’s lips,” Jonah said. “I’ll text him and let him know that you’re back.”

  Charlie opened his mouth as if to protest, then closed it and nodded.

  Moments later, a text came back. Come up, and bring Charlie. I’ll contact everyone else.

  You mean we all get to hear what Charlie says? Jonah thought. That’s unusual.

  Jonah led the way upstairs and down the hallway to Gabriel’s office. Brendan was sitting in the outer office with Rudy, still wearing the middle-aged body he’d inhabited at that first meeting between Lilith and Gabriel. They were both staring straight ahead, bodies rigid, but Brendan stood when Jonah and the others came in.

  “Hey, Jonah,” Brendan said, his voice thick and a bit garbled, but understandable.

  “Your speech is really improving,” Jonah said.

  Brendan shrugged. “Maybe you’re just getting used to it,” he said, but he was obviously pleased.

  Alison looked from Jonah to Brendan. “You two know each other?”

  “This is Brendan Wu,” Jonah said. “Remember? He was at Safe Harbor with Kenzie.”

  “Hi, Alison,” Brendan managed. “Antarctica, remember?”

  “I’m sorry,” Alison said, after a long pause. “This is really hard for me. I just—”

  “It’s all right,” Brendan said. “It’s hard for us all.” Turning back to Jonah, he said, “Speaking of Kenzie, would it be okay if I went to see him?”

  “It’s fine by me,” Jonah said, “but you’ll have to ask Gabriel where he is, because I don’t know.”

  Brendan tilted his head, like he thought he might have heard wrong. “What are you talking about? Why wouldn’t you—?”

  “Ask Gabriel,” Jonah said. “It’ll be interesting to see what he says.”

  Right then, Natalie, Mike, and Thérèse arrived. Patrick’s eyes flicked over them, as if taking a count, and then he buzzed them in.

  Gabriel and Lilith were in the small meeting room, sitting side by side on one of the plush couches, a laptop in front of them and several paper files spread out as well. There was an intimacy to the scene that made Jonah’s skin prickle. So many times they had all sat together, setting up plans, trying to head off one disaster or another. Lilith’s presence felt like an intrusion.

  “So,” Gabriel said, when they were all seated. “What happened at the hearing, Charlie?”

  “What’s this about a hearing?” Rudy asked.

  Charlie shifted uncomfortably. “I went over to Trinity because we heard there was going to be a hearing about the Halloween murders, with some new evidence. The hearing was organized by a mainliner—a wizard named Rowan DeVries—the one who was rumored to be dead after the...after Halloween. He’s alive after all.”

  “I guess it’s good news that only three people died, instead of four,” Natalie said.

  “You may not think so when you hear the rest of this,” Charlie said. “In a nutshell, he says it was Jonah who attacked him at McCauley’s that night.”

  After a moment of stunned silence, Natalie said, “No. No way. That can’t be right.”

  Charlie shrugged. “Sounds crazy, doesn’t it? But he testified that Jonah tried to kill him.”

  It was true, then, what Emma had said at their last meeting. Rowan DeVries is going to accuse you of murder.

  Still, even though it didn’t come as a surprise, it was hard to hear when you’re accused of the one thing you’re not guilty of.

  “He’s lying,” Alison said, her voice trembling. “He’s lying and we all know it.”

  “Damn right,” Rudy said. “You need to tell them that, Gabriel. Tell them there’s no way Jonah could have—”

  Gabriel put up his hand, as if to quell the outrage. “Did DeVries offer any proof, Charlie?”

  “He claims that Emma witnessed the whole thing.”

  “Emma?” Natalie straightened. “What does Emma have to do with any of this?”

  “All along, the police have suspected that she was a witness to the murders,” Charlie said. “Her clothes were covered with DeVries’s blood.”

  “But there’s an explanation for that,” Jonah said. “He attacked her in the gazebo and she hit him.”

  “DeVries also accused you of murdering his sister and Hackleford’s daughter and a bunch of other wizards. He says Emma witnessed that, too.”

  A growl rolled through the other members of N
ightshade. “Have they gone crazy over there?” Mike said.

  “Maybe something got into their water,” Thérèse said, rolling her eyes.

  Jonah felt like he’d been punched in the gut. How would DeVries know Jonah was there when his sister was murdered if Emma hadn’t told him?

  He wants me to testify, Emma had said. He wants me to support his story. I said I would, but I won’t.

  But maybe the wizard had overheard Emma, that night by the lake. She and Jonah were talking while DeVries lay on the floor of the gazebo. Jonah struggled to remember what she’d said. It seemed like she’d accused Jonah of all kinds of crimes—crimes that he was mostly guilty of. He took a quick breath, braced himself, and looked up at Natalie, who was staring at him like she hardly recognized him. Because Natalie knew that Emma had witnessed a massacre of wizards at her father’s house. Natalie was, after all, the one who’d called Jonah in for the rescue when Emma was being held prisoner at the Bratenahl house. And Natalie would remember that it was Jonah who had convinced them both to keep quiet about it.

  “All I’ve heard is ‘Emma witnessed this, Emma saw that,’” Rudy said. “What does Emma say?”

  “Emma wasn’t at the hearing,” Charlie said. “But DeVries claims that she agreed to testify in support of his story.”

  “Emma agreed to set Jonah up?” Alison half stood, her hands gripping the arms of her chair.

  Charlie nodded. “So he says. But she didn’t show, and DeVries claims we’ve either killed her or we’re holding her prisoner.”

  “That’s bullshit,” Rudy said, pulling out his phone. “Let’s call her.”

  “Emma’s gone,” Jonah said without thinking.

  Rudy looked up from his phone. “Gone where?”

  “Away.”

  Everyone looked at Jonah. Nobody said anything, but Jonah shuddered under the wave of mistrust washing over him.

  Jonah sighed. “Look, I told her to leave, that I was worried that something bad was going to go down, and I didn’t want her caught in it.”

  Gabriel’s eyes narrowed. “So you knew this was coming?”

  “Not exactly this, but—”

  “And you’re sure you don’t know where she is?”

  “I didn’t want to know.”

  They all looked at one another. Nobody seemed to know what to say.

  “I’m calling her anyway,” Rudy said, finally, and he did, putting it on speaker. They all waited while it rang, and when it went to voice mail, he stumbled over the message. “Um. This is Rudy. If you get this, please call back. Something bad’s going down, and it’s really urgent. Call any time, day or night.” He put his phone away.

  “Well,” Gabriel said, massaging his temples. “Maybe we can still sort this out.” He pulled out his own phone. “Let me call Mercedes, and perhaps we—”

  “There’s more, Gabriel,” Charlie said. “DeVries is saying that you are the one giving the orders, that Jonah didn’t act on his own. You’re heading up a conspiracy of Thorn Hill survivors, bent on destroying the mainline guilds. It’s supposedly headquartered here at the Anchorage.”

  “What?” Gabriel slammed both hands down on the table. His phone case splintered, sending shards of plastic in all directions. He pointed a shaking finger at Jonah. “This is your fault. What possessed you to murder mainliners in the middle of the Sanctuary, including Madison Moss’s little sister? Didn’t you realize that the blame would automatically fall on us?”

  “I didn’t kill anyone at McCauley’s,” Jonah said. “Why is it that you suspect me instead of her?” He tilted his head toward Lilith.

  “Could it be because DeVries identified you?” Gabriel’s voice rose to a shout. “Could it be because you’ve been arguing for so long that we should be going after wizards and not our own kind?”

  Lilith looked a bit stunned at this revelation. “Is that true, Jonah?” she said.

  “It’s true,” Jonah said, “but I did not propose that we go out and slaughter mainliners, regardless of guilt. My idea was that we should try to find out who was actually guilty of poisoning the wells—if that even happened at all.” He turned to Gabriel. “Anyway, if we’re looking at history, you said yourself that if the mainliner killings went on long enough, we would get the blame.”

  “It’s not a matter of blame,” Lilith said. “It’s a matter of credit. We’ve been doing your job for you. We are all Thorn Hill survivors, damaged by the crime that was committed a decade ago, still paying the price for that. They murdered all of us, Gabriel—if we’re dead, then you are, too. Don’t marginalize us because you haven’t realized it yet.”

  “That makes no sense at all,” Gabriel said, but he lacked his usual confidence.

  Lilith put her hand on Gabriel’s arm. “It does make sense. It’s their guilt that feeds all these conspiracy theories. It would make total sense if we took revenge on them, and they know it. And if their dying could save the lives of those they slaughtered—isn’t that what we call justice?”

  “No,” Gabriel said. Avoiding Jonah’s eyes, he added, “Perhaps we should arrange for them to question Jonah. That will give him the chance to convince them that their suspicions are misplaced.”

  Jonah wasn’t sure what to make of that. Was Gabriel relying on Jonah’s charm to save the day? Or did it mean that his mentor was willing to make a sacrifice to maintain the status quo, and that sacrifice was Jonah?

  Alison must have thought the same thing, because she stood up and said, “No. You can’t give them Jonah. That’s just wrong.”

  Gabriel looked blindsided. “It is not my intention to give them Jonah,” he said irritably. “Did I say that?”

  “Good,” Alison said. “Because that’s so not going to happen.” She sat down again.

  Jonah had to admit that, under treatment with blood magic, Alison was much more like her old self. The friend he remembered.

  “You’re not going to be able to go back to the way things were, anyway,” Lilith said, “even if you give them Jonah. If we can’t come up with a permanent solution, the cease-fire will be over, mainliners will continue to die, and sooner or later, the guilds will decide it’s time to eliminate the problem, just like they did at Thorn Hill. What will you do once you lose your bodies? Will you drift aimlessly in the ether, or will you join the rest of us in trying to win back some of what we lost?”

  “It won’t be our decision to make,” Charlie said. “They’re coming here, and they’re planning to question Jonah—and you—and search this place, whether we like it or not.”

  “We can’t let that happen, Gabriel,” Lilith said. “You know that.”

  “Who’s coming?” Mike asked, apparently already strategizing.

  “I don’t know most of the people at the meeting,” Charlie said. “But it sounds like the whole council is coming, including Madison Moss. You know, the one they call the Dragon.”

  Gabriel and Lilith looked at each other. Then back at Charlie. Gabriel weighed the battered phone in his hand. “Do you have any idea how much time we have?”

  Charlie hesitated. “I don’t know. DeVries wants to move now, because he thinks we’re holding Emma, and we might kill her if we know they’re coming after her. We’ll have some warning, because McCauley is supposed to call and try to schedule a meeting. If I had to guess, I would say in the next few days.”

  Jonah tried to make a quick exit after the meeting with Gabriel, but of course Natalie caught up with him anyway. She planted herself in his path, a familiar fire in her eyes. “Talk to me, Jonah,” she said. “What have you been up to?”

  “I don’t know what you—”

  “Cut the bullshit; it’s me you’re talking to,” Natalie said. “I feel like I’ve been lied to and set up, and I don’t like it.”

  “We all have,” Jonah said. “Gabriel—”

  “Gabriel’s sins are no e
xcuse for your bad behavior,” Natalie said. “I’m having a little trouble figuring out who the good guys are.”

  “Good luck with that,” Jonah said softly. “There are no good guys.” And he walked away.

  “I thought you liked barbecue,” Mickey said, scrubbing at his face with a napkin. It came away orange.

  “I do like barbecue,” Emma said. “I’m just not very hungry.” She pushed her sandwich toward him. “You want this?”

  He shook his head. “You better eat that, honey—keep your strength up.”

  “I don’t want any more.” Emma stretched her legs out, leaned back against the tree, and closed her eyes. It wasn’t long before she heard the rustle of the wax paper as Mickey helped himself to her sandwich. He was not one to let food go to waste. Just like Sonny Lee. She smiled sadly.

  Sometime in mid-afternoon of this long and heartbreaking day, Mickey had driven miles and miles to the nearest crossroads and brought back food. In the meantime, Emma had searched the rest of the building. She’d rooted through the small apartment with a single bed and a kitchen area, bare as a jail cell. There were closets full of clothing, cobwebby with dust. Dressy clothes, work clothes, uniforms of all kinds. Disguises. In the drawer of the nightstand, a torn photograph. It was a picture of Emma, maybe four years old, holding Tyler’s hand. On her other side, somebody had been ripped away, right through their joined hands. It was like holding up a mirror to what had happened in real life.

  I don’t get it, Emma thought. Everybody else at Thorn Hill either died or got damaged or ended up with some oddball power. Everybody but me.

  Why am I different? As far as I can tell, I’m just a regular person who glows. Was that what my mother intended? Or did things go wrong?

  Yes, things went wrong. Things went very, very wrong.

  “What are you going to do?” Mickey asked, breaking into her thoughts.

  “I don’t know. All I know is I can’t go back there. I can’t face those people.” She hadn’t been real specific, but when she told Mickey that Tyler had done something terrible to people who were now her friends, he hadn’t seemed at all surprised.