“Are we talking about parlor tricks and whimsy, or something he can really use?”
“He is much further along than that,” Nick assured her. “He's done very well. He is not what I would call a powerful wizard, but he's more powerful than some who carry the stone. I've never seen anyone outside of the Wizard Guild who can do what he does.”
“Tell me about your training, Jack,” Aunt Linda said abruptly. Jack briefly reviewed the program, starting with the sessions at the fitness center and progressing to the bouts at the meadow. She frowned. “That's pretty much classical training,” she said. “Didn't he cover anything else?” Jack thought about it. “We spent some time working with a sling. There was some weaponless stuff, like wrestling and tai chi. I've been weight training on my own. But we've spent most of our time with the foils and with Shadowslayer at the meadow.”
Linda hesitated before she asked the next question. “How is Leander Hastings as a teacher?”
“He knows what he's doing. He's been willing to spend a lot of time with me, but he can be pretty demanding.” Jack thought for a moment. “He has to be in total control. He answers only the questions he chooses to answer.”
Linda nodded as if not surprised. “That sounds like Leander.”
Jack couldn't help but think that it sounded like Linda as well. He was getting irritated at the interrogation. He had questions of his own he wanted to ask. Linda rose and began pacing back and forth in the small space between the table and the counter
“I don't think this trip to England is such a good idea,” she said, not looking at Jack.
“What are you talking about?” Jack asked, surprised.
Linda spoke fast and persuasively. “If you go, Dr. Longbranch is going to want to see you. And I don't think that's such a good idea … as you are now.”
Jack stood, feet slightly apart, arms folded. “Aunt Linda, I think it's time you were straight with me. People are trying to kill me. I think I deserve to know who and why.”
“All right.” Linda said, resting her hands on the back of her chair. “Do you remember I told you that the Weir has a history of fighting, mainly with each other?”
Jack nodded and sat down, suspecting that this was going to be a long and unpleasant story.
“There are actually two main branches of the family that have been battling for hundreds of years. It started with a pair of brothers. Do you remember the War of the Roses?”
“A civil war between two factions of British royalty. Lancaster and York, wasn't it?” Jack struggled to remember his British history. ”Didn't that end with the Battle of Bosworth Field?" He and Nick had spent quite a bit of time on that. Understandably, the old wizard was an expert.
“Not for us. One branch of our family carried the red rose, and the other the white. For years after Bosworth, the fighting continued, with neither side really gaining the upper hand,” Linda said. “By the sixteenth century, even the most bloodthirsty wizards of both houses realized things couldn't continue as they were. It was about that time that several hundred Weir immigrated to America to escape the ongoing warfare and the domination by wizards.They included representatives of all the guilds. We descend from that group of democrats, called the Bear clan. For those who stayed, a new system was developed, a system of tournaments.”
Jack looked her in the eyes. “Nick told me about the Game.”
Linda flinched, and her cheeks colored slightly. “The Game,” she repeated. “So wizards were no longer involved in the actual fighting. The emphasis changed to recruiting warriors, training them … breeding them for certain powers and characteristics that would prove advantageous.” She looked at Jack, then looked away. “Only, those efforts backfired. There was so much emphasis on the gift of power that they neglected the flesh and blood that carried it. Because of inbreeding, the line grew sickly, began to die out. That and the fact that warriors were dying in droves in the tournaments. Even the successful ones often didn't live long enough to have children.”
“So why didn't they just stop fighting?”
“Lots of reasons. Tradition. Revenge. Control of a treasury of magical artifacts, the last of their kind. That's right,” she said, noting Jack's reaction. "The winner of the tournaments takes control of the Wizard Council, which governs the guilds. Those who have come to power through the system are unlikely to change it. Our family is an aristocracy: privileged and idle, with little to do but spin intrigue.
"So, back in the 1700s, when they were running out of warriors in the Old World, someone in the European guilds must have remembered those who had left for America two centuries before. They have extensive records. They're really big on genealogy.
"The branch in America had severed its ties with the Roses, using the Silver Bear as our emblem. We have also intermarried extensively with Anaweir, people without the gift. As a result, not everyone inherits. Maybe that's why you were born without a stone. But many people in this branch of the family carry the gifts and are physically healthy. And they're vulnerable because they either don't know about their gifts or haven't been trained to use them. They are unaffiliated, which means they lack protection.
“So the Roses began tracking us down. They would find those who carried the crystals, particularly the warrior trait. And those people would disappear. They are particularly fond of stealing children and raising them for the Game. It was a long time before we understood what was happening. But there were some of us in the family who studied the old ways, who knew the traditions, who understood the significance of the Weirbooks.”
“Where's the rest of the family?” Jack asked.
“All over,” Linda replied. “There are still several big strongholds in Britain, but they are all over the world. These are really rich and powerful people, Jack. These are people who can see the future and control others. They have no trouble making a living.”
Jack thought about his aunt, who always had plenty of money and no visible means of support. “Are you telling me these tournaments are going on all the time, and nobody knows about it?”
“Not so many anymore, because of the shortage of warriors. But they do go on.” Linda shrugged. “The tournament system has worked well, from a wizard point of view. It saves lives and property. You see, wizards aren't allowed to attack each other under the Rules of Engagement, which haven't been changed since they were written in the sixteenth century. The other guilds, of course, are fair game.”
Jack remembered the book of fighting rules Hastings had given him. “The rules. Oh, right. I have those.” His day pack was lying on the table. He reached into the side pocket and retrieved the slim volume.
Linda reacted as if Jack had pulled a snake from his pack. “Where did you get that?” she demanded.
“Mr. Hastings gave it to me. I've been studying it.”
“Well, you won't be needing it, because you won't be fighting anyone,” his aunt said flatly.
“Then why do I have to go through all this training?” Jack stuffed the book back into his pack, more confused than ever.
Linda gripped his arm, blinking back tears. “Jack, I'm just doing my best, every day, to keep you alive. When you were born, I had to involve Jessamine Longbranch, or you would have died. She is the premier wizard of the White Rose. She gave you a warrior stone with the assumption that you will eventually fight for them. I managed to convince her that she should leave you where you are, that you could be trained later, that it would be difficult for the Red Rose to find you in Trinity.” Aunt Linda smiled wanly. "You know I can be very persuasive. And up until recently, you've remained hidden.
“The premier wizard of the Red Rose is a man named Geoffrey Wylie. He was the man you met at the graveyard. Since the White Rose has known you were here all along, I can only assume Wylie's group is behind the poison. But it doesn't really make sense. If they know who you are, they'd only kill you as a last resort.”
Nick nodded. “If a wizard wanted to kill you, he wouldn't poison you. He would act more directly. But Wylie wouldn't kill you. He would capture you and call a tournament. If the White Rose can't field a player, he would win by default.” He rubbed his beard thoughtfully. “I haven't seen any sign of wizards in Trinity since the day of the soccer tryouts. If they're still in town, they're in hiding, maybe because of Hastings. I don't think we should panic just yet.”
Linda frowned. “If Dr. Longbranch realizes the Red Rose is on to you, she'll take you right away.” She noticed Jack's lack of comprehension, and rushed on. “She'll take you for training. I know something of what they do to warriors to prepare them for the Game.” Her voice trailed off, as if she suddenly realized to whom she was speaking.
“You're nearly grown,Jack. Dr. Longbranch won't wait much longer to take you in any event. So I contacted Hastings. He was the one who suggested we retrieve the sword and train you in secret. He thought Shadowslayer might make the difference, might level the playing field.”
“Who exactly is Hastings?” Jack asked.
“I've known him for a long time. He descends from the Bear line, as we do. He is a powerful wizard, and he's always had a strong interest in warriors and warrior training. He has long been a defender of the lesser guilds, what are called the Anawizard Weir, or nonwizard Weir. I knew he would be an excellent teacher.”
Jack was beginning to understand just how bleak the situation was. Trinity didn't seem safe at all anymore. It seemed too small a hole to hide in. Maybe it was time to leave town.
“Look, Aunt Linda, I have to go to England. My mother already bought the tickets. She's been talking for months about all we're going to do.”
“Can you avoid seeing Dr. Longbranch?”
“I think Mom's already called her to tell her we're coming.”
