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Authors: Cinda Williams Chima

Tags: #Adventure, #Fantasy, #Science Fiction, #Young Adult, #Romance, #Magic, #Urban Fantasy

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BOOK: The Dragon Heir
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Heir 3 - The Dragon Heir
Chapter Seven  A Change of Plans

 

 

By 10 p.m., the contingent
from Boston had either left or retired to the bar. A DJ had set up in the
ballroom, and music pounded out over the lake. Jack and his friends gathered in
a windowed sitting area off the ballroom. A fire crackled on the great hearth,
and they dipped hot chocolate out of great silver tureens. The jackets and ties
came off as soon as the chaperones faded.

The Weir were well
represented: Jack Swift, Ellen Stephenson, Seph McCauley, and Jason Haley. Plus
Will Childers and Harmon Fitch, who were kind of honorary members of the
guilds. And Madison, who was something else entirely.

She recalled Min's warning,
years ago. Beware the magical guilds.
Promise me you'll stay away from them. Swear.

Maddie had sworn, and yet,
here she was. I can't help it, Gramma, she thought. You'd understand if you
were here. She was wedged into an elegant loveseat beside Seph, conscious of his hip
pressing against hers, the soft buzz of power flowing through. She tried to
ignore it.

He seemed totally at home at
these dress-up affairs—not stuffy, but in
context. He still looked dressed up, even though his jacket was off and his sleeves
rolled, long legs extended and crossed at the ankles. His shirt was so white it
hurt her eyes, his collar starched, the crease in his trousers still perfect.

Madison had found a vintage
emerald silk dress at the consignment shop, bias-cut, with seaming at the hip
and gores that flared out from the knee, and a black crocheted shawl with long
fringe and tiny beads and sequins. It had cost all of fifteen dollars, which
she couldn't afford. It was kind of low cut, which made her fuss with the
straps and pull the shawl closely around her shoulders. Her strappy sandals
were silly in the snow, but then she wasn't known to be practical.

Some of the East Coast boys
had asked her to dance, and she declined. She wasn't going to say yes to them
when she had to say no to Seph. Seph was a great dancer, but one slow dance
with Madison might sicken him for days.

Still, she couldn't help
tapping her foot to the music and wishing they were out on the dance floor.
Also, if she were dancing, she wouldn't have to hear about the traitorous
wizard Leesha Middleton all night. She was already tired of the subject.

“Leesha's up to
something,” Jack said. “Otherwise she'd never come back to Trinity.
She used to complain there was no place in Ohio she could buy cute shoes.”

“I have that problem,
too,” Fitch muttered, to general laughter. “No, really, I mean, you
try and match an outfit …”

Despite his jokes, Madison
couldn't help thinking Fitch looked   a  little   twitchy—with   good  reason.  Leesha   had kidnapped
him and Will.

“She'd better not come
near any of us,” Ellen said. Meaning Jack, no doubt. She paced restlessly
around the elegant room, picking up objects and setting them down again.
“I kept hoping Hastings would come out and say something, but he and Linda
didn't stay too long.”

Seph straightened, as always,
quick to defend his father. “Look, Leesha's just not a priority for him.
There's not much she can do, not with the boundary up. She can't use attack
charms here.”

“You don't know her like
we do,” Ellen said, scowling.

“I know her well
enough,” Seph said, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “We met in a
club in Toronto. She slipped wizard flame in my drink.”

“What?” Madison
stared at Seph, suddenly more interested in the subject of Leesha. “I
didn't know that.”

“She seems really
scared,” Jason said.

Everyone turned to look at
him.

“What? Don't tell me you believe
her.” Jack made an irritated sound. “Are you crazy?”

“She says both Wizard
Houses are after her,” Jason said, leaning against the brickwork around
the fireplace. “And that they'll kill her if she leaves the
sanctuary.”

“When did you have this
little talk?” Jack rolled his eyes. “I mean, she just got here, and
you're already best friends?”

“I didn't say that,”
Jason replied, looking mulish. “I ran into her by the desserts.”

“You don't just run
into Leesha Middleton,” Fitch said. “I've found that out.”

“Whatever.” Jason
flipped his hand, dismissing the subject,
and turned to Seph. “I'm hoping your
dad'll take me back to Britain with him. Maybe you could say something?”

Seph shrugged. “I guess.
I've barely had a chance to talk to him. I'll probably see him tomorrow.”

Jason pushed away from the
wall. “Well, I'm going. I'm meeting some people.”

“Hope it's not
Leesha,” Seph called after him, grinning. Jason batted the comment away
with a rude gesture and disappeared around the corner.

“I think I'll go,
too,” Madison said. Will and Fitch seemed comfortable enough, but these
days she always felt edgy among Seph's gifted friends—afraid the hex magic might suddenly surface and give
her away.

It'll be better in the fall,
she thought. He'll be safe away at school. He'll be away from this whole
magical battle/siege mentality.

He'll be far away from me, she
thought, and it felt like something was stuck in her throat that she couldn't
swallow down.

“I'll walk you
home,” Seph said, standing and helping her to her feet, not giving her a
chance to decline.

When they arrived back at the
inn, the parking lot was nearly full. It hadn't been easy to get the night off
for Jack's party, and Madison hated to give up the tips.

They circled around to the
less-traveled side entrance. Seph followed her onto the porch. “Mind if I
come in for a while?” he asked, looking down at her. His eyes darkened to
a deep blue green.

Seph had a way of watching her
with those witchy eyes that made her stumble over words and into walls. He
could suck  all  her breath  away  and  set  her heart hammering without so much
as touching her. It was dangerous to be alone with Seph McCauley—not because of what he might do, but because of how
she might react.

“Well…” She
hesitated. “For a little while,” she whispered, her resistance
evaporating. She was weak, that was all there was to it. “We can go sit in
the parlor,” she added primly. The parlor was a safely public place.

“The parlor?” Seph
raised an eyebrow. “I thought maybe we…”

“Come on,” she said.
“We'll have to be quiet or Rachel will kick us out.”

Shaking his head, Seph
followed Madison through the kitchen with its hulking commercial range and
loaded pantry, crossed the center hall, and entered the parlor. The room was
furnished with marble-topped Victorian tables and curved-back chairs, and lined
with bookshelves. A cheerful fire burned on the hearth, and bottles of wine, a
tea service, and trays of cookies were set out on the sideboard for guests of
the inn. Rachel's presence making itself felt.

They settled into the chairs,
side by side, like two nineteenth-century sweethearts in the presence of a
chaperone. Seph covered her hand with his on the delicate armrest, brushing his
thumb over her tingling skin. The hex magic within her uncoiled, alerted by his
presence, and rippled into her extremities. Her pulse began to hammer and she
slid a glance at him. How could he not notice?

“Whoa,” he said,
massaging his temples with his other hand. “I was fine earlier, but now
I'm getting the mother of all headaches.”

“Maybe you'll be less
busy this summer,” she suggested, withdrawing her hand as soon as she
could and tugging at her shawl. “With…with the boundary and all, I
mean.”

He stared moodily into the
flames. “I don't know. I can't see things changing, unless they get
worse.”

“You should try and relax
a little. Have a little fun before you go away to school.”

Seph cleared his throat.
“I've been meaning to talk to you about that.”

“About what?”

He took a deep breath, as if
anticipating the battle ahead. “I've decided to put off Northwestern for
awhile.”

“What?” She twisted
in her seat. “Why?” Like she had to ask.

“What with everything
going on and all. I just think it would be better if I stayed here.”

“Who talked you into
that? Nick? Your father?”

He shifted his shoulders
unhappily. “I decided on my own.”

“I'll just bet you
did.” The words tumbled out, hard and furious.

“We could see each other
more. I thought you'd be happy.” He looked over at her, then away.
“Guess not.”

Madison hadn't meant it to
turn into a fight. Why couldn't she talk to people about things without getting
all raggedy mad? “I don't see you now, and you're right in town.”

“Do you even want to
see me?” He paused, and when she didn't reply, he continued. “Ever
since Second Sister, you've been…different.” His voice broke with
frustration. “It's like … you're scared of me. You flinch when I touch
you. It makes it really hard, okay?”

Typical. Seph McCauley chose
to confront the elephant in the parlor when she'd just as soon walk around it.

Seph barreled on. “I know
you can't forget what happened last summer. At Second Sister. But it's been six
months. If you'd just talk about it, I think it would help.”

He'd given her this tiny
opening, an excuse for her crazy behavior, and she seized on it. “I'm trying
to forget,” she said. “But I can't. Those people getting burned
up and ripped apart. And I know Leicester was…evil, but when you and Jason …”

“That's not who I am,
Maddie. Leicester tortured me for months.” He held up his maimed hand.
"He did this to me. He killed Jason's father, and I thought he'd killed
mine.

“I'm not saying you were
wrong. Killing him, I mean.” Maddie stared down at her lap. “It's my
problem, not yours.” That part was the truth, anyway.

“But it is my
problem. Sometimes…the way you look at me, I think it's going to be all right.
And then … I never know, from day to day, where I stand. If I've been staying
away from you, it's because it's too hard.” He reached out and touched her
hand. “I miss you.”

“I'm just…it's hard for
me, too.” She kept her gaze downcast, afraid to meet his eyes. “I
need some space, okay? Can you just … give me some time?”

“I don't know how much
time we have. I don't know what's going to happen.” When she said nothing,
Seph went on. “It would be easier for me to go away, and then I wouldn't
have to see you all the time. But I have to stay. If we lose this war, we lose
everything.”

“I don't see why winning
the war is up to you.”

“It's not all up to me.
But I have to help.” He leaned his head back, closed his eyes, the lashes
dark against his bloodless skin. “I'm sorry, Maddie,” he whispered.
“I don't know what's wrong with me lately. I don't feel so
well.”

She pulled her hand free. It
was happening again. His undiluted presence was having its usual effect. She
could feel power rising inside her, coalescing under her breastbone. She was
leaking magic, despite all her efforts to contain it. Like she had any idea how.

She tried naming colors in
alpha order, a trick from when she was little. Azure. Blue. Citrine. Dark
Green. Eggplant. Fuchsia. But it was no good. Her skin flamed and her hands and
arms tingled and burned. She knew what that meant.

“Seph, listen, I better…”
The telephone rang, somewhere close by. She heard running footsteps, Rachel's
business voice, “The Legends. Rachel Booker.”

Moments later, Rachel appeared
in the doorway to the parlor, extending the phone toward Madison. “It's
for you. Your mama.”

Madison couldn't very well
refuse to speak to her mother, with Rachel standing right there. So she took
the phone reluctantly. “Mama?”

Carlene's voice reverberated
in her ear amid a cloud of static. “Madison? What's wrong with the
phone?”

Madison struggled to control
the power that threatened to pour out of her body. The static cleared.

“Oh, Madison, honey,
thank God. I've been trying to reach you for days. I don't know what to
do.” Her mother's voice was thick with tears and several beers, if Madison
was any judge. And she was.

Madison sighed. “I'm kind
of busy, Mama. What's going on?”

“They've took the
kids.”

“What do you mean?
Who?”

“Grace and John Robert.
The county.”

“The county's took…taken
Grace and J.R.? Why?”

“You remember Sheila Ann
White? She married Tom Harper but they're separated now. She works at the bank
and sometimes fills in at Charley's.”

Madison struggled to keep her
voice in check, pulling patience from some unknown source. “What does
Sheila Ann White Harper have to do with Grace and John Robert?”

“I worked a double shift
on Friday. She promised to watch the kids when she got off at the bank. But
they called her into work at Charley's and she forgot completely.”

“Why didn't you call off
when Sheila Ann didn't show?”

“Well, see, I was already
at work. She was coming to watch them for second shift.”

“You left them home alone
all day while you worked a double?” Madison's voice rose.

“Gracie is ten years
old,” Carlene said defensively. “She can watch John Robert in the
daytime.”

I'll bet the county doesn't
agree, Madison thought. “Didn't Grace call you when Sheila Ann didn't
come?”

“Well, we don't exactly
have phone service right now. I got behind in my payments again.”

Madison sighed. “How did
the county hear about it?”

Long pause. “The shed
caught fire.”

No. It was happening again,
and she wasn't even there to be blamed. “How did the shed catch fire? Are
things catching fire again? Did…did somebody set it?”

“I don't know. Brice
Roper spotted the smoke and drove up there.”

“Brice Roper?” Her
insides twisted, knotted up. Suddenly, she was back at school, facing down
Brice and his leering, jeering friends. “Right. I bet he just
happened to see it. Probably sneaking around up there.”

BOOK: The Dragon Heir
12.46Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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