The Enchanter Heir

“Why? Are you some kind of a—a—pedophile, or—”

“No,” Tyler said. “Nothing like that. I made some bad choices, is all. He was pissed, when I handed you off to him.”

Emma recalled Sonny Lee’s letter. I’ll be straight with you: I wasn’t happy when you first came to me. “I know it was— must’ve been burdensome, having me to look after,” she said, her voice trembling in spite of herself. “But it—it seemed like we got along good. Later on, I mean.”

Tyler rubbed his forehead with his thumb and forefinger. “When I said he was pissed, I meant he was pissed at me, not you. None of it was your fault.” He hesitated, then hurried on. “If you knew the whole story, you’d—”

“Why don’t you tell me that story?” Emma said, sitting back in her chair and looking her father in the eye. “I got no plans.”

Tyler gazed at her, a muscle working in his jaw. Thinking thinking thinking. “So the old man never told you nothing, did he?”

“I didn’t even know you existed,” Emma said.

Tyler snorted. “There was no one could carry a grudge like my old man. He was the most stubborn—”

“I know enough about Sonny Lee,” Emma said. “I want to hear about you.” She paused and, when he said nothing, asked, “If you’re Sonny Lee’s son, then what’s with the name Boykin?”

“That’s a stage name. I’m a musician.”

Of course you are, Emma thought. “What’s wrong with Greenwood?”

“I don’t use that name anymore.”

“How did you meet my mother?”

Tyler did that flicker-eyed thing that people do when they’re choosing between a truth, a half-truth, or a lie. “We met at a club in New York. I was in a band, and we had a regular gig there at that time.”

“What do you play?” Emma couldn’t help asking.

“Guitar,” Tyler said. “Bass guitar, mostly, these days. I do some teaching, too. Anyway, your mama started coming to see us, and one thing led to another, and we got married.”

“What was she like?”

“Your mother?” Tyler shook his head. “She was a beautiful woman. Me, I was head over heels in love with her. After I met Gwen, there was nobody else. We had some good times, that’s for sure.” He paused. “I’ll tell you one thing— she was crazy about you.”

That thought warmed her a little. “Do you have any pictures?”

Tyler dug out his wallet, flipping it open to a photo taken in one of those coin-operated photo booths. Gwen stood in front, holding Emma, who was the best dressed of the three of them. Tyler stood behind with his arms draped around both of them, as if to pin them to the earth. Her mother’s head was cocked so she could look down into Emma’s face. SHer hair was as pale as sapwood ash, her eyes a clear gray.

The photo was crinkled and worn, like it had been pulled out and looked at thousands of times.

Emma looked up from the photo and found Tyler gazing at her. “Like I said, you remind me of her. Oh, I know your coloring’s different,” he rushed to add. “But you have that same . . . wildness about you.” He grimaced. “I don’t mean to be creepy, I just don’t know what else to call it.”

“So I should blame her for the way I am?” Emma twisted a lock of her hair, the piece that was always falling in her face.

“I don’t know that I’d use the word ‘blame,’” Tyler said. “It’s one of the things I liked about her.”

“What happened? Between you and my mother? How did she end up at Thorn Hill, and you back here?”

He paused, did the flicker-eye. “After you were born, she complained about her job, more and more, and wanted to leave it, but she was afraid to. Afraid of what Mr. DeVries might do.”

“Mr. DeVries? ”

“Her boss.”

“Because she quit her job? Was she cooking meth or what?”

He shook his head. “Mr. DeVries was somebody you’d never want to meet. A wizard.”

“A what?”

“A wizard. You know.” He took a big bite of cake.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Tyler nearly choked on his mouthful. He dabbed at his mouth with his napkin. “Sonny Lee never told you about the magical guilds either?”

“Maybe that was your job,” Emma retorted, unwilling to hear Sonny Lee criticized.

“Maybe it was,” Tyler said, with a sigh. “I just figured you’d know, since you’re gifted.”

“One thing I am not is gifted,” Emma said bluntly, recalling the endless round of conferences at school. “Not a single person in all my life has called me that.”

“But . . . you have an aura.”

“A what? ”

“You can see my aura, right?”

“That glow?”

He nodded.

“Lots of people glow. I asked Sonny Lee about it, once, and he acted like I was crazy, so I shut up about it.”

“Because he is . . . was . . . Anaweir. Meaning he wasn’t gifted, so he can’t see it.” Tyler paused. “You don’t have any . . . special abilities? Unusual talents?”

Getting into trouble? Emma thought, but it probably wasn’t the thing to say to your father that you’d just met. “I play a little guitar,” she said. “And I helped Sonny Lee in the shop. I’m not much of a student, but I’m real good with my hands.” I might as well lower expectations from the start, she thought.

Tyler scowled at her, brow furrowed. “If blood is true, you should be a sorcerer, like your mother and me. I just can’t get a read on your stone. It’s like it’s muddied up.”

“My stone?”

“Your Weirstone.” Tyler brought his fist to his chest. “It’s right here.”

Huh, Emma thought. Good thing I never got in a car with this one.

“You think I’m nuts,” Tyler said, with a twisted smile.

“Don’t you?”

“Oh, no,” Emma blurted, thinking, Don’t make him mad. “I’m just confused. Like—aren’t wizards and sorcerers Sthe same thing?”

Tyler shook his head. “Wizards can do fancier spells, what we call conjured magic. With charms. Sorcerers make magical things—herbs, medications, potions, magical tools, and like that. Seers predict the future, warriors are good fighters, and enchanters—stay away from them. They can talk you into anything. So . . . there are five Weirguilds in all.” He counted on his fingers. “Wizards, sorcerers, seers, warriors, and enchanters.” Right, Emma thought. Uh-huh. She slid a look at the door. Should she make a break for it?

What’s your hurry? You got no other place to go. Might as well sit here in the warm and keep him talking.

“So,” she said, settling back into her chair. “How do you know what guild you’re in? Or can you try out for different ones?”

“You don’t choose. It’s based on what kind of Weirstone you’re born with, inherited from your parents.” Again, Tyler pressed his fingers against his chest. “In my case, from my mother, your grandmother. In your case, from me and your mother.” He studied her face, then looked down at his hands.

“I know it’s hard to take in, all at once.”

Emma hadn’t expected much of Tyler Boykin—a man who knew just where to find her for sixteen years but never made contact. Who let his father raise her, after a fashion.

She’d expected a deadbeat, a drinker, an addict maybe. Not someone who was a good mile past eccentric. Guess that’s why Sonny Lee had to keep me.

“How come I haven’t heard of any of this?” she said. “I’d think the newspapers would be full of stories about magical people. You know, like they do with aliens.”