The Wizard Heir (18 page)

Maybe those are magic pieces from the golden age of
sorcery, like the dyrne sefa, Seph thought.

“Let's synchronize our watches. It's seven
forty-five,” Snowbeard said. “Linda and I will break into the web at
eight fifteen. Wait a few minutes, then cut through yourselves.”

Snowbeard slid behind the wheel of the BMW, with Linda
on the passenger side. Jack and Ellen and Seph climbed into the Subaru, laying
the swords down between the seats.

They drove in tandem, with Snowbeard leading the way
along country roads, turning as often as necessary to keep close to the
shimmering border. It seemed to stretch as far as the eye could see, even
arching over top of the town. It would be easy to walk into, if you weren't
paying attention.

About a mile to the west, Jack pulled well off the
road, into the edge of a field. The three of them climbed out, Jack and Ellen
carrying their swords. Snowbeard drove on, disappearing over the next ridge.

They'd chosen a spot where the barrier cut across a
field. A battered farmhouse crouched next to the road, its paint gone gray with
weather. The foundation of the house was overgrown with wild roses, sprays of
red and white flowers with yellow centers. In the pasture, cattle wandered back
and forth through the barrier, oblivious to it. The late day sun slanted across
the barnyard.

They slipped past the house, moving behind the barn
where they would be less likely to be seen from the road. Here, between the
barn and the fenced pasture, the grass was nearly knee-high and concealed
hidden hazards: rusty pieces of old farm machinery and piles of cow manure.

Up close, the barrier was revealed as an intricate network
of nearly translucent cords, as thick as Seph's little finger. There was hardly
an inch of space between them anywhere. There was something mathematical about
the pattern, like the spokes of a spiderweb. It had a kind of malevolent
presence, as if it were alive and watching them. He couldn't tell how thick it
was.

Jack paced up and down impatiently, swinging his sword
like a scythe, clipping off the tops of weeds. Seph and Ellen sat down in the
grass and waited. Biting insects buzzed around their faces.

At 8:15, they queued up at the wall, Jack first, then
Ellen, followed by Seph. “We'll only be able to hack a narrow path,”
Jack warned Seph. “This stuff is tough to get through and it kind of fills
in behind. So be careful not to touch any part of it.”

In the distance, they heard a boom and saw
flames fountaining into the air like a series of gigantic Roman candles. The
diversion had begun.

They'll be lucky if they don't draw the local police,
too, Seph thought.

Jack's blue-edged blade bit into the web, sending bits
of cording flying. The net responded immediately, shrinking back before them. A
muttering arose from the Weirweb, like the sound of an angry crowd. It grew
until it became a great wailing clamor.

Jack looked over his shoulder, making a face. “Hard
to take, isn't it?” He turned back to his work. He flowed from stance to
stance like a fencer, the sword a bright blur, singing as the web keened. The
warrior's swordplay was poetry in flesh, although it wasn't long before his
T-shirt was stuck to him, and sweat poured down his face. Ellen followed
behind, clearing loose tendrils and widening the path behind Jack. They swapped
places every few minutes. Seph watched to the rear, looking for any sign of
pursuit.

They had cut a path about thirty feet into the net
when it happened. One of the tendrils Jack had broken whipped back, and Ellen
sidestepped to avoid it. Her arm brushed one of the loose tendrils at the side
of the path. The web reacted swiftly, throwing three new cords around her waist.

“Jack!” She hacked at the cords with her
sword, but a line tangled around her legs, and she fell. More strands wrapped
around her sword arm, seemingly attracted by her violent efforts to free
herself.

“Will you hold still?” Jack plunged into the
growth around her, slicing away at the bonds that held her whole body prisoner.
He used his blade like a surgeon, slicing through the web, miraculously never
drawing blood. Ellen sat stone still, unflinching, though swearing creatively.
But the net responded by throwing out more cords. Jack had to be careful not to
become entangled himself. He was making no visible progress. He yanked a blade
out of a sheath at his belt and looked over at Seph. “Listen, are you any
good with a knife?”

Seph was no good with a knife at all, but he accepted
the blade and began hacking at the thick tendrils, conscious of time passing,
working as quickly as he could while trying to stay away from vital organs. All
around them, the web seemed to be chuckling triumphantly.

After five minutes, Ellen was wrapped up as securely
as before. She looked up at Jack and Seph. “Go on,” she said.
“You've wasted too much time already.”

“No,” Jack said stubbornly, slashing at the
cords at her waist. His hair was plastered down with sweat.

“Linda told us to get Seph to the Sanctuary. Take
him and come back for me. I can take care of myself.”

“Right,” Jack growled. “Against
wizards. When you're trussed up like a …”

“Whose fault is that? I mean, if you were a
little less clumsy with that sword of yours …”

“Don't think you can make me mad enough to leave
you here.”

“I know these people,” Seph said, chopping
at the cord that bound her ankles. “We're not leaving you here.”

“That's brilliant. Let's all three get
captured.” When they didn't respond, she added, “You know I'm
right.”

“Fine!” Jack swiped at the sweat that
streamed down his face. “You come on!” he said to Seph.
“The sooner we get through, the sooner I can be back.” Jack pivoted
away from Ellen and began hacking away again with a vengeance, sending tendrils
flying. The keening wail started up again. They moved forward rapidly. It was
probably another twenty yards to the inner wall of the barrier and half a mile
beyond that to the edge of the town.

When they broke through, Seph turned and looked back
at Ellen. She was sitting quietly, no longer struggling. She scowled and waved
him off when she saw him looking at her.

“Go back for her,” Seph said. “I'll go
the rest of the way on my own.”

Jack shook his head. They would be in the open from
the edge of the barrier to the city limits. “Let's go.” He started
across the field at a run, his long legs covering the distance in great leaping
strides. Seph followed, determined to keep pace despite the complaints of his
tortured muscles and bruised body.

Once they passed the edge of the barrier, Ellen could
no longer see Seph and Jack, or hear the sounds of their progress, only the
gloating whisper of the web around her. She tried to ignore it. She was
uncomfortable, but she kept still, because the web around her tightened every
time she moved. A cow passed through the barrier and stopped a few feet away,
staring at her curiously. The cow lifted her head and looked back down the
pathway. Ellen heard something, too. Someone was coming.

It was one of the four young wizards they'd
encountered on their way out of town. He had backcombed, white-blond hair, and
a stubble of beard so pale as to be almost translucent. His eyes were a diluted
color, like whitewash spread too thin over blue.

He looked surprised to see Ellen, as though it was
inconceivable that she would disobey his orders. “You again. I told you
not to touch this.” The tendrils making up the wall responded to his
presence like snakes to a charmer, curling over his shoulders and sliding between
his feet, murmuring excitedly.

“I was just trying to get back to town, and I got
tangled up.” Ellen assumed what she hoped was a blank, stupid expression.
She'd spent a lifetime lying to wizards. Their arrogance made it a lot easier.

“What's this?” The wizard gently freed
Ellen's sword from the tangle of vines and examined it, turning it to catch the
light. He took a few practice swings, handling it like a golf club. “This
is awesome. Where'd you get this?”

“I bought it off a dealer.”

“Do you have any more pieces like this?”

Ellen shook her head, watching the wizard brandish the
sword and wishing she could get her hands on it.

“What are you, a sorcerer?”

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

The wizard rolled his eyes. “Right. What's your
name?”

Not a good idea to give a wizard identifying
information. “Nikki. With two k's and an i. What's yours?”

“Warren Barber.” He eyed her suspiciously.
“Look, sweetheart. I know something's going on. Fires. Explosions. People
running around with magical swords. Old men in sports cars.”

“It's been like this ever since they set up the
Sanctuary. It attracts all kinds of riff-raff. It used to be a nice little
town.” She looked up at him. “Now. Could you get me out of this
web?”

Barber carefully set the sword down out of Ellen's reach,
then began crooning charms, coaxing the cords away from Ellen's body until her
legs were freed. He left her hands securely tied. She extended her bound
wrists. “What's with this?”

“I have a feeling you know more than you're
saying. I think with a little persuasion you'll tell me what it is.” He
smiled and extended his hands.

Ellen knew well how painful a wizard's touch could be.
So much for peaceful coexistence. She bunched her legs under her and rammed her
head into Barbers face, feeling his nose crunch at the impact. She landed,
rolling, and gripped the sword hilt with her bound hands. Swinging the blade
upright, she thrust it at the wizard's midsection, flames dancing eagerly at
the tip. But he leaped back out of range, spinning additional cords from his
hands that snaked around her body, despite her efforts to cut them to pieces.
They constricted until she was totally immobile, and then Barber yanked the
sword from her hands and set it aside.

He knelt and leaned over her, blood streaming from his
broken nose, pale face spotted purple with rage. He wrapped his hot wizard
hands around her throat and squeezed. She twisted and turned under his weight,
but couldn't free herself. Spots danced before her eyes, then coalesced into
darkness.

Something thudded into them, and then the wizard's
weight was gone and her airway was miraculously open. Ellen sucked in great
lungfuls of air until her vision cleared. She looked up to see Jack and Barber
circling like fighters being paid by the round.

“You all right, Ellen?” Jack asked, without
taking his eyes off Barber.

“I'm fine,” she croaked, feeling stupid,
lying on the ground, tied up like a holiday ham. “Cut me loose when you
get a minute?”

Jack reached over his shoulder and drew his sword,
Shadowslayer, with a delicious hissing sound. He stood with his feet spread
apart a little, the sword pointed at the wizard.

Barber took a step back, outside of the immediate
reach of the blade, and swept his hand toward Jack. Flames sprayed at Jack's
face, but he parried them with his sword.

Barber cast an immobilization charm, but before it was
out of his mouth, Jack spoke the counter spell, stumbling over the words a bit.
Barber licked his lips. “You're a wizard?”

“Maybe.” Jack stood in a ready position, his
blue eyes hard and cold.

Barber feinted toward Jack, then launched a gout of
flame at Ellen. Jack threw himself into the path of the attack, shoving Ellen
aside. Tongues of flame engulfed his sword arm. Shadowslayer slipped from his
grasp, landing with a thud in the tall grass. Swearing, Jack leaped after his
blade, but Barber spun out long cords that tangled in his legs and wrapped
themselves around his body.

Almost lazily, Barber raised his hands to deliver a
killing blow. Suddenly a peculiar expression spread across his face. He swayed,
then toppled forward into the grass and lay still.

Finally free, Jack retrieved his sword and stood over
the wizard, both hands wrapped around the hilt, the tip of the blade pressed
into the back of Barber's neck. But Barber was out cold.

Seph McCauley materialized before their eyes, as if
out of the air, holding a large branch like a baseball bat. When he saw that
Barber was truly down, he tossed the branch aside. “Best I could do,”
he said apologetically. “I can't cast charms while I'm unnoticeable.
Anyway, I don't know a lot of magic.”

“Well, obviously you've learned something,”
Ellen said, extending her wrists so Jack could cut them free.

“Not that I'm ungrateful, but what the hell are
you doing here?” Jack demanded of Seph. “I told you to stay where you
were.”

Seph swept his hair out of his eyes. “Did you? I
must've misunderstood.” He nudged Barber with his foot. No response. He
looked around. “Hey, the wall's down.”

Ellen looked up. The wall was disintegrating,
dissolving into tattered wisps of mist.

“I guess it needs some sort of conscious
attention from Barber to keep it intact.” Seph shrugged. “The other
wizards will know he's down. Now would probably be a good time to get
going.”

Reluctantly, Jack lifted his blade away from Warren
Barber's neck and shoved it back into his baldric. He was pale and sweating and
obviously in pain. His forearm was blistered from wrist to elbow where Barber
had flamed him.

“That arm looks bad,” Ellen said.
“Maybe Nick can take a look at it before your mom sees it.”

They began walking toward town, this time crossing the
fields and orchards unimpeded.

Jack swiped sweat from his brow with the back of his
good hand. “Who was that guy?” he asked Seph.

“I went to school with him,” Seph said.
“At the Havens.”

“Must be a great place, the Havens,” Jack
said sarcastically. He seemed to be in a foul temper, probably not improved by
the pain in his arm. He glanced sideways at Seph. “I can't understand why
we're getting involved in a fight between wizards.”