The Enchanter Heir

guilds or out. If they are in the guilds, then they are represented. If they are out of the guilds, then they don’t belong on this council. Jack Swift, for example, is a mongrel of sorts, yet he is considered a member of the Warrior Guild.”

Jack snorted softly, behind Jonah.

Hudson chimed in. “Perhaps we should investigate the kinds of magical mutations present at Thorn Hill so that we can make a better decision.”

Jonah slid a look at Gabriel, knowing he wouldn’t like that idea. As Lilith had said, he liked to keep his secrets.

“We need to move on,” Moss said. “Is there a motion?”

“I move that we accept written comments over the next two months,” Mercedes said. “Madison can appoint a subcommittee to summarize them and present them to council in . . . um . . . February.”

And so, effectively, the idea was tabled. Gabriel looked disappointed, but Jonah figured it was better than having it voted down.

Moss seemed relieved to be moving on. “Now, to old business: Alicia Middleton and Mercedes Foster will update us on the Trinity Montessori incident.”

Mercedes and Leesha stood up, so that Jonah and Gabriel were looking at their backs.

Leesha took the lead. “I spoke with a reliable source in the Trinity Police Department. According to him, the Cleveland police are pretty much stymied. They did spot a suspect on the lift bridge with the children, but somehow he got away.”

A rumble of displeasure arose from the spectators.

“Why are the police investigating what is clearly a magical matter?” Scavuzzo shouted.

“The police don’t know it’s a magical matter, Mr. Scavuzzo,” Mercedes said. “If you don’t believe in magic, you don’t go looking for a magical explanation. That puts them at a tremendous disadvantage. As you can imagine, they are under considerable public pressure to solve the crime.”

Hudson snorted. “Since we all agree that the police investigation is a waste of time, what have you uncovered in your investigation?”

“There were approximately two hundred corpses scattered on the bridge deck and on both banks of the river,” Mercedes said. “I’ve examined the cadavers. They seem to be a mixture of fresh bodies and . . . ah . . . ‘seasoned’ corpses. Some of them apparently came from Mapleside Cemetery west of Cleveland. How they were transported to the Flats, we don’t know.” She hesitated. “The children mentioned zombies.”

A murmur rolled through the crowd.

“The tabloids have been having a field day,” Leesha said. “Several companies have sprung up, offering what they call Zombie Walks in the Flats.”

“The corpses . . . could you detect anything magical about them?” Leander Hastings asked.

The sorcerer shook her head. “If there was any flame there to start with, it was gone by the time I arrived. They had all been chopped into little bits.”

“How would that have happened?” Moss asked, looking mystified.

“We thought at first they’d just . . . you know . . . fallen apart, being old and all,” Leesha answered. “But some of the bones were sliced right through or battered into pieces. The children we’ve interviewed mentioned a boy with . . . with a big stick, but disagreed about whether he was allied with the zombies or fighting against them.”

Jonah looked down at the floor, feeling conspicuous.

“As you can imagine, the children have been difficult and inconsistent witnesses,” Mercedes said. “One other thing: shredded nightshade was found scattered over the bridge surface.”

“Nightshade?” McCauley said. “Then it’s tied to the other attacks on the gifted.”

Mercedes nodded. “We’re thinking it was either the same people, or someone trying to cast suspicion on them.”

“You should send a team to the Anchorage if you want to find the culprits,” Hudson shouted. She avoided looking at Gabriel and Jonah. Some in the crowd murmured in agreement.

Mercedes swung around to stare Hudson down. “Hilary, there’s not one scrap of evidence linking the Anchorage to the bridge incident.”

“We need to find evidence,” Scavuzzo said, openly glaring at Gabriel. “We should hold an informal lineup. Bring in our children, and see if they recognize any of the labrats.”

“We can’t put the children through that,” Hudson countered. “It’s insane. What we should do is collect DNA from the inmates at the Anchorage. See if we can make a match with what we find at the crime scene.”

“You’ve been watching too many episodes of CSI,” a man shouted from the audience. “The students at the Anchorage are not criminals. They’re differently gifted.”

By now, a half-dozen spectators were on their feet, shouting, demanding the floor.

Jonah looked over at Gabriel, who sat calmly, apparently scrolling through messages on his phone.

“Hey! All of you . . . shut up!” The voice echoed through the nave.

The shouting died instantly.

Ellen glared around the room, fists on hips. Jack stood beside her.

“Ellen and I are here to remind you that this is a meeting, not a brawl,” Jack said.

Ellen nodded. “So the next person that talks out of turn is going to get pitched right out of the window.”

“So now you’re using thugs to stifle dissent?” Morrison shouted. Ellen vaulted over the pew in front of her and strode toward Morrison. For a moment, Jonah thought he was going to see wizards fly, but Morrison sat down quickly and Ellen returned to her seat.

Chapter Twenty-eight

Vigilante Justice

Shooting a grateful look at the warriors, Moss said, “We need to give Mercedes and Leesha time to do their jobs. I know emotions are running high, and I assure you we’ll follow the evidence wherever it leads. If anyone has information that might help us, contact Leesha or Mercedes. They’ll keep in close touch with the police and the preschool administration and let us know of any . . . um . . . developments.” She paused. “Let’s move on. Is there an update on the cataloging of the Hoard?” She looked at Linda Downey and Leander Hastings.

Linda stood, but before she could speak, someone else did, in a carrying voice that rang through the church from the rear.

“Perhaps you should distribute the weapons to those of us in the guilds who need them for their own protection.” It was a woman’s voice, cold and cutting.

Jonah turned to look.

Three wizards stalked down the aisle—an angular woman with cropped, reddish-brown hair, a whippet-like man with an early-morning five o’clock shadow, and a young man with sun-streaked chestnut hair.

Rowan DeVries.

Jonah sat bolt upright, his heart accelerating. Then, just as quickly, he slumped down, concealing himself behind those in the rows ahead.

“What is it, Jonah?” Gabriel asked, putting a hand on his arm.

“That’s Rowan DeVries. Remember? He’s the wizard that was there when Jeanette was murdered.” And, oh, by the way, I killed his sister. “I don’t know the other two.”

“That’s Nancy Hackleford and Granville Burroughs,” Gabriel said. “They’re known to be longtime associates of the Black Rose. They’re not on council.”

Moss and McCauley exchanged glances, then waited until the trio had made their way to the table and stood behind the only empty seat. “Burroughs? Hackleford?” Moss said. “It’s been a while. And Rowan? Glad you could be here.”

“Sorry I’m late,” DeVries said. “I was delayed by a death in the family.” His amber eyes rested on Moss. “But maybe you already knew that.”

Moss shook her head, eyes widening in surprise. “No! How would I—”