The Dragon Heir

Page 59

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 himself. “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 beachside 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 lakefront. 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.
He ended up surprising the old woman in her bed. Aunt Millisandra screamed when she opened her eyes and found him looming over her. She winged a lamp at him, followed by a blast of fire. He threw himself face down on the Persian rug, flames singeing the back of his head.
She hopped out of bed with amazing agility for one so old and locked herself in the bathroom. He could hear her just on the other side of the door, whimpering and talking to herself.
He was afraid to blow out the door with her so close. “Hey, I'm not going to hurt you. It's Jason, remember? Everybody has to leave. I came to get you. Please. Move away from the door.”
She didn't reply, but kept muttering to herself. He could hear glass shattering, fixtures exploding. Water gushed out from under the door. Aunt Milli was creating her usual magical disaster area.
Damn. He didn't have time for this. “Come on, Aunt Milli. Just calm down and move away from the door.”
Nothing. He was going to have to blow down the door, whether he liked it or not.
He heard a sound at the front of the house, a door slamming.
It was Leesha. Her cheeks were rosy from the cold and she had Fitch's bandana tied around her curls. She'd taken him by surprise, and it struck him how much he missed her.
“She's in there,” he said, swallowing hard, nodding toward the bathroom.
“Aunt Milli?” Leesha knocked on the door. “It's Alicia. Open up.” There was no answer, and she repeated herself, louder. “She's kind of deaf, remember?” she muttered aside to Jason.
A tremulous voice came from the other side of the door. “I don't believe you. Go away.”
“Aunt Milli, I'm sorry Jason scared you. Remember Jason? He came for tea.”