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The Dragon Heir

Page 30

   



“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 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.