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water seemed more tolerable. Maybe he
was getting used to it. His extremities tingled as the feeling returned, and he
was no longer shivering. He strode ahead more confidently, continuing until the
water lapped at his collarbone. Though the sun was gone, intercepted by the
surrounding trees, he felt almost warm.
    He looked around. The other boys stood as if frozen,
staring down at the water in disbelief. Another minute passed, and the surface
of the water began to steam in the cold air. He might have been neck deep in
the warm Caribbean.
    No. This can't be happening. Seph looked over at Leicester, who was in conversation
with one of the boys on shore. He hadn't noticed that anything was amiss. Seph
splashed toward a crowd of boys standing to one side, near the shoreline,
positioning himself so that his head was just one of many pocking the gray
surface. Now, just relax, he commanded himself, closing his eyes, trying
to loosen his muscles, to empty his mind.
    How long could he last? He was in trouble already, and
it was just the first day.
    He sorted through a litter of memories from his school
career. The homicidal ravens at St. Andrew's. The explosions and fires in
Scotland. The wolves that had startled the nuns in Philadelphia.
    By now the water was close to spa temperature. All
conversation in the cove had died. The swimmers looked down at the vapor
collecting at the surface, rising up around them like morning mist on an upland
lake. No one said a word, to each other or to Leicester.
    Finally, the boy who had been speaking with the
headmaster broke away and stepped into the water. He stumbled backward with a
yelp of surprise and sat down, hard, on the rocks. Gregory Leicester swung
around and stared at the boys in the water and the steam boiling up around
them. Then he began searching the faces of the boys in the water until he found
Seph.
    Try as he might, Seph couldn't look away. The
headmaster stood, studying him like a specimen on a slide. No questions, no
disbelief, no challenge or confusion, only this intense and clinical scrutiny,
as if he were looking into Seph's soul with full knowledge of what lay within.
Then Leicester smiled like it was Christmas.
    Shuddering, Seph took a step backward.
    The headmaster's gaze shifted to include the whole
group. “Gentlemen, perhaps it is a bit brisk for swimming after
all. You are dismissed to your own pursuits until dinner.”
    For a moment, no one moved. Then the exodus began,
silent as lemmings in reverse. Seph left the water on the far side of the cove,
keeping as much distance between himself and Leicester as possible. He pulled
his sweatshirt and jeans over his wet skin and picked up his shoes, unwilling
to linger long enough to put them on. Slinging his towel about his shoulders,
he followed the others toward the woods.
    “Joseph.”
    Seph froze in midstride and stood waiting without turning
around. The headmaster's gaze pressed on the back of his neck.
    “Come up to my office after dinner. I think it's
time I explained a bit more about our program.”
    Seph nodded and walked on, into the trees.
     
     

Heir 2 - The Wizard Heir
    Chapter
Three
    A
Magical Collaborative
     
     
    Seph awoke to a loud pounding. Still groggy, he
stumbled to his door and opened it. It was Trevor, dressed for the outdoors,
smiling tentatively.
    “Seph. Supper's at seven thirty. We have time
before then, if you want to look around.”
    Seph rubbed his eyes and looked back at his bed.
“Sure. Thanks. I'm glad you knocked. I might've slept right through.”
He yawned. “Do we have to dress for dinner?”
    “Collared shirt or sweater. No jeans or
sweats.”
    “Okay. Give me a minute.”
    Trevor hovered by the door while Seph changed his
clothes and ran his fingers through his hair. They descended the stairs and
pushed through the front doors.
    The frail autumn daylight had already fled. It would
have been pitch-black under the trees, save for the tiny lights that outlined
the paths between