The Enchanter Heir

“Where is Madison Moss?” the man demanded. “Shouldn’t she be here, in a time of crisis?”

“She’s in school,” McCauley said. “In Chicago. She’ll be back in a week or two.”

“If Ms. Moss wants to be in charge, she should be here,” the man said.

“That’s just it, Mr. Scavuzzo, she doesn’t want to be in charge.” McCauley turned away and pretended to focus on the field, which was difficult to do since nothing was happening.

Morrison leaned in, putting her face in front of McCauley’s. “How was it that the children were so poorly supervised that they ended up on top of a bridge in the Flats?”

“That’s what the investigation is for,” McCauley said. “To find out what happened and who’s responsible. The police are looking into it, too.”

“It’s obvious who’s responsible,” Hudson said. “You’re the only one who doesn’t see it.” The other three parents nodded vigorously in support.

McCauley sighed. He seemed to already know the subtext. “Where’s your evidence? Where’s your proof ? It doesn’t make sense to spread rumors and innuendo before we know what we’re dealing with.”

“Don’t you think it’s suspicious that the children were found within a mile of Mandrake’s school?” the man demanded.

Jonah stiffened.

“Not at all, Scavuzzo, considering the fact that they were also within a mile of the aquarium,” Leesha said.

“Really?” Scavuzzo sneered. “The preschool sponsors field trips all the time without a problem. And yet, the first time they visit that neighborhood, our children are kidnapped. Who else could it be? We’re not talking mainline magic here, after all. We’re talking monsters.”

It’s true, what Gabriel said, Jonah thought, resentment smoldering in his midsection. Mainliners blame us for everything.

“The fact is, they shouldn’t put that kind of institution right in the middle of a city,” Morrison said. “It should be in a remote area, where it doesn’t present a danger to normal people.”

“The Anchorage has been there for ten years,” McCauley said. “There’s never been a problem before. How can you—?”

“Just because we haven’t heard about any problems doesn’t mean there haven’t been any,” Hudson said. “Who knows what goes on there? I’ve seen photographs from Thorn Hill, and let me tell you, they were bloodcurdling.”

McCauley stood up and said, “Look, this isn’t really the time or place to discuss this, all right?”

“If not now, when?” Morrison sniffed.

“If you have a complaint, bring it to council,” McCauley said. Turning his back on Morrison, he walked away.

“I’ll tell you one thing, McCauley,” Morrison shouted at his back. “I’m going to hold you personally responsible if anything happens to my daughter.”

Chapter Eighteen

Interguild Play

After listening to that exchange, Jonah just wanted to go somewhere—anywhere—to get away from mainliners. Being a diplomat was harder than he’d thought.

He was thinking he’d go find Gabriel, but as he was descending from his vantage point in the bleachers, Jack Swift and Ellen Stephenson returned to the field and faced the stands.

“All right,” Jack said. “Now it’s time for the audienceparticipation part of the program. If you’ve ever wanted to try your hand at swordplay, now’s your chance. No experience necessary.”

Unable to resist, Jonah sat down again, in the far left seat in the bottom row. A minute later, Leesha Middleton plopped down next to him.

Go away, Jonah thought, glaring into space. I know what mainliners think of us.

When nobody spoke up, Ellen surveyed the crowd in the bleachers. “Come on, somebody step up and give it a go!

Your pick, Jack or me.”

“We’ll be using blunted weapons,” Jack said. “No worries.”

The spectators avoided eye contact, staring down at the ground. After the show Jack and Ellen had put on, nobody wanted to take them on. A couple of audience members even slipped from their seats and slinked away, as if afraid they’d be called upon.

“How about two of you against one of us?” Jack suggested. “Or we can each pair up with someone, and then you won’t be onstage by yourself.” A haze of chatter rose over the crowd as people elbowed one another and tried to get their neighbors to volunteer.

“Are there two of you who would like to spar against each other?” Ellen persisted. “We could—you know— give pointers.”

“Here’s your chance,” Leesha urged, leaning toward Jonah. “You can try out being a warrior.” She paused and, when he sat in stony silence, added, “You look like you want to whack something.”

He did, actually.

Before he could think, Jonah was up on his feet. “I’ll give it a try,” he said.

The crowd applauded madly, thrilled to be off the hook, excited at the prospect of a new spectacle, mad with curiosity about the stranger in town.

Jack shook his hand and clapped him on the back. “Thank you, Mr.—”

“Kinlock,” Jonah said, resisting the temptation to add, Jonah Kinlock.

“What’s your pleasure, Kinlock?” Jack asked. “Me or Ellen?” He leaned in closer and said in a loud stage whisper, “I’ll give you fair warning. She’s ruthless. And she cheats.” The crowd hooted and catcalled.

Jonah tilted his head, pretending to be thinking. Finally, he shook his head. “I can’t decide. Can I play both of you?” Jack and Ellen looked at each other. “Um. Sure, if you’re up for it,” Ellen said, shrugging, “since no one else seems eager to play. Which one of us do you want to play first?”

“No. I meant both of you at once,” Jonah said. “I don’t think I’ll have time to play you separately.”

As the crowd exploded into laughter, Jonah removed his sweatshirt, revealing a tight-fitting T-shirt. This resulted in some oohing and aahing from the crowd. Leesha Middleton, for one, seemed delighted with this turn of events. “You choose first,” Ellen said generously, gesturing toward a dozen rebated weapons set out on a blanket. Jonah chose an English rapier, which was closest to the sword he was used to wielding.

“You’re sure you want that one?” Ellen asked. “A heavier sword will wear you out quicker. And it may slow you down.” Jonah tried a few thrusts and parries. It might be heavier than the others, but it felt featherlight in his hand after Fragarach.

“I’m good with it,” Jonah said. “Unless you want it.” He extended it toward her, hilt first.

Ellen shook her head. She and Jack chose rapiers as well. “Can we ditch the piste?” Jonah asked, nudging the fencing strip with his toe. “And play the whole field?” Jack and Ellen looked at each other. Jonah didn’t have to read minds to know what they were thinking. Two on one, it would be to Jonah’s advantage to narrow the field so that only one of them could come at him at a time. They probably thought he was a fool—or unschooled at best.

“If that’s what you want,” Jack said. He and Ellen rolled up the fencing strip and set it to one side.

The two warriors faced off with Jonah. “Do you want to just spar a little bit, get used to your weapon?” Ellen asked.

Jonah shook his head. “Let’s do it,” he said. “First blood, right?”

And the lopsided duel began.

Jonah soon realized that he’d been overconfident, taking on both warriors at once. He was accustomed to wielding his sword against shades and untried shadeslayer packs. While his ability to read intentions and his uncanny speed and agility gave him an edge, these two were better trained at swordplay. They were considerably more experienced than he was at fighting against somebody who fought back.