The Dragon Heir (17 page)

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 shouldn'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.

“Back in church
again?” She lifted an eyebrow and attempted a smile that didn't quite come
off.

He shrugged, acutely conscious
of the magical pieces in his backpack. How had she found him so quickly? It was
early for her to be out. Had she followed him?

“Cool car,” she
said, resting her hand on the BMW another question plain on her face. Where the
night before she'd seemed antsy and distracted, today she seemed grim and
determined. As if she knew he intended to split.

Damn. He should've left the
car at home until he was ready to leave.

He stared at her, temporarily
wordless, then said, “A friend let me borrow it.”

“Take me for a
ride?”

“I've got to return it,
and I'm late already. I'll text you later, all right?” Jason tossed the
backpack into the passenger seat and circled round to get in on the driver's
side.

Leesha reached in and picked
up the backpack by its strap. “What's in here?”

“Hey, leave that
alone.” Jason rounded the side of the car and grabbed the backpack out of
her hands.

“What's in there, Jason?
A present for me?” She lunged for the backpack and he caught her wrists to
keep her from latching on again. For a moment they stood face-to-face, glaring
at each other. With the whole town looking on if it cared to.

Jason released her hands and
took a step back. “Please, Leesha. Just…Like I said, I'm kind of in a
hurry. I'm sorry. I'll talk to you later, okay? I promise.” He got in the
car, putting the backpack on the floor at his feet.

“Right,” she said,
and stood, chewing her lip, watching as he drove away.

What was that all about? he
wondered, as he navigated the tree-lined streets around the square. She'd
seemed almost angry with him.

In the time it took to reach
the interstate, he'd lost himself in the pleasure of driving the BMW.
Interstate 71 sliced southwest, parting flat farm fields on either side. He
cranked up the radio. There wasn't much traffic, so he cranked the speed up,
too, reasoning he could always talk his way out of a ticket.

He knew he was taking stupid
chances, with the invasion of Raven's Ghyll, and with Leesha, and with driving
too fast, but somehow he couldn't help himself.

When he reached Columbus, he
circled around, exited onto Route 23, then again onto another state route,
heading southeast into the hills. He watched his mirrors intermittently, but
could see no sign he was being followed. He passed through tiny towns: Glen
Furnace, Floradale, Salt Creek. He planned to head straight down to Maddie's.
These country roads would be easier to navigate by daylight.

His phone went off several times.
Leesha calling. No message. He shut it off.

By the time he reached Coal
Grove, it had clouded over and begun to sleet, a relentless needle-fine,
bone-chilling rain that froze on contact. The cloud ceiling dropped until it
nearly met the ground.

He drove east, out of town,
Seph's directions beside him on the seat, his backpack on the floor on the
passenger side. The landscape looked like it'd taken a beating and never quite
recovered.

He had no idea how it would go
at Maddie's. He knew from experience that Madison Moss couldn't be bullied. But
maybe she'd be glad to see him, wanting news of Seph. And he could check out
her reaction when he delivered it.

The road rapidly deteriorated
from pavement to oiled gravel. It twisted and turned, but mostly it climbed. A
thick, second-growth forest crowded in on either side, greening up for spring,
punctuated now and then by a rural mailbox fronting a house trailer or a
run-down farm. He passed a sign that said roper
coal: coalton county works, pointing down a more substantial side road.
And, later, a prosperous-looking horse farm with brick gateway pillars and a
sign, in a rope-like script, BRY-SON ARABIANS.

Somewhere along here was the
turnoff to Booker Mountain. “Not well marked,” Seph's directions
said. By now, it was raining harder.

After traveling a mile
farther, he began to realize he must have missed the turnoff. He did a quick
U-turn and drove back the way he'd come. Jason leaned forward, peering through
the rain-smeared windshield.

He rounded a curve and found
the way blocked by a huge tree that lay at an angle across the road. He slammed
on the brakes, skidding sideways in the wet gravel. The BMW came to a stop with
its passenger door inches from the tree.

Jason rested his head on the
wheel, his heart thumping in his chest. A tree on the slope above must have
lost hold in the saturated earth. It must've just happened, since the way had
been clear moments before.

Shoving the driver's side door
open, he climbed out into the rain on rubbery legs. If he wanted to go forward,
he'd have to get the tree off the road. Wizardry was good for making people
do what you wanted or for moving the more fluid ethers like water, air, and
flame. He wasn't sure he knew a charm for moving giant trees.

Jason yanked the backpack from
under the seat. Maybe there was something there that would help. Kneeling on
the soggy ground, he sorted through the magical pieces he'd taken from the
church. He had a dagger that would inflict a mortal wound (on a man, not a
tree), talismans of protection that he was unsure how to use, an amulet that
gave strength to the weary (maybe he could lift the tree off the road), and a
scrying stone that blazed up oddly between his hands. Like a warning.

There was something else,
something unfamiliar, a small, flat metal object. He held it up to the light.
There was a faint marking on it, like a stylized etching of a spider. How did
that get there?

He looked up just as the car
exploded into flames.

He rolled backward to keep
from being engulfed. Propping up on his elbows, he stared in disbelief. The car
was a blazing inferno, hissing and spitting in the pouring rain.

Oh, God, he thought. Linda's
going to kill me. His next thought was, I'm out of here.

As he struggled to his feet,
something struck him full in the chest, just beneath the collarbone, hard
enough to spin him half around. He clutched at his shirtfront, but could find
no wound or missile, only an awful spreading cold and numbness.

“Damn!” someone said
behind him. “I hope that didn't hit too close to the heart. The idea is to
immobilize you. Not kill you.”

Jason swung around to face the
speaker. It couldn't be. The blond, almost translucent hair, the pale blue eyes
and colorless lips. The lopsided, arrogant smile he hadn't seen since the
ill-fated conference at Second Sister.

“Barber!”

The smile grew wider.
“For a minute, I didn't think you remembered me. But, hey, the friendships
we make at school are the ones that last.”

“What are you doing
here?”

“I followed you. Of
course I didn't know you'd lead me to the crap hole of the universe.”
Barber flipped his hand, indicating their general surroundings.

“What did you shoot me
with?”

“It's a wizard graffe. A
virtual dagger with an effect very much like spider venom. Renders the victim
immobile, but leaves the mind clear and able to perceive pain. Great for
interrogations.”

“What do you want?”

“To ask you some
questions. But first we'll go someplace quiet where we won't be
interrupted.”

The paralysis was spreading.
Jason's limbs were growing heavy. It was getting difficult to push air through
his lungs. “Questions about what?” he mumbled. Even his lips and
tongue weren't obeying his commands.

“Questions about what
you're doing down here. About what you stole from Ravens Ghyll and hid in the
church. About the Dragonheart. We can start with what's in your backpack.”
Barber extended his hand. “Hand it over.”

Backpack. Jason's body might
be sluggish, but his mind was clear. Barber knew Jason had left town. He knew
about the church. He knew there was something in his backpack.

Leesha.

A cold anger seized Jason.
“You want this?” he shouted hoarsely. As he raised the backpack, he
thrust his hand inside, closing it around the amulet. Gives strength to the
bearer. He muttered a charm calling forth its power and felt welcome
strength flood back into his body. Slinging the pack over his shoulder, he
reached up with the other hand and gripped the dyrne sefa that hung
around his neck. Speaking the familiar unnoticeable charm he'd learned from his
mother, he thrust himself sideways.

He landed rolling in the
sodden leaves, but was immediately up and running, slipping and sliding down
the hill, the backpack slamming against his shoulder. Barber was a powerful
wizard, outclassing Jason on his best day. Unnoticeable or not, it wouldn't be
healthy to stay around.

Barber was totally pissed. He
sent flames roaring down the hillside in Jason's wake, then charged downhill
after him, shouting and swearing. “Idiot! Where the hell do you think
you're going? Give yourself up, or you're going to lie on your back in the mud
until you're ripped apart and eaten alive by wild animals.”