Free The Wizard Heir by Cinda Williams Chima

into Trevor.
Feeling bad about it, but needing to know.
    He could tell Trevor didn't want to answer, but the
words poured out just the same. “You never said you were one of
them.”
    “One of who?” Seph asked, though he already
knew.
    Trevor cut his eyes toward Alumni House.
    “I'm not an alumnus,” Seph said, lamely.
“I'm a junior. It's just that I'm enrolling in a special program.”
Trevor said nothing. “Ah … why? What do you know about them?”
    Trevor shuddered. “I don't want to know anything
about them—you.” Now he did try and wrench free, and Seph let him.
“You don't care what happens to any of us. Some of us listened to Jason,
and …”
    “Who's Jason?”
    “He told us we should fight back, and we tried,
and now Sam is dead and Peter and Jason are living at the Alumni House.”
    Trevor may as well have been speaking in Japanese.
He'd left Seph back at the first sentence. “Fight back against what? Who's
dead? I don't know what you're talking about.”
    Trevor had his hands over his ears, speaking loudly
enough to drown Seph out. As if afraid Seph would seduce him with words.
“I've gone six months without a disciplinary, and now …”
    “I'll go to Dr. Leicester,” Seph offered,
still bewildered by the emotion in play. “I'll explain. Whatever it
takes.”
    “No,” Trevor said. “Don't do me any
favors. You'll make things worse. Just stay away from me.” He wheeled and
walked away, back toward the dorm. Seph stood and watched him until he was lost
in the shadows of the trees.
     
     

Heir 2 - The Wizard Heir
    Chapter
Five
    Total
Commitment
     
     
    The next evening, Seph dressed carefully in a cotton
shirt, khakis, and a jacket (no tie), and gelled his hair, reasoning that there
was a chance Dr. Leicester would be at dinner. He made his way to Alumni House
at the appointed time, hoping that the evening would go better than the
encounter of the day before.
    To be honest, he didn't really care for any of the
wizards he'd met so far.
    Mr. Hanlon, whom he'd met in the woods, greeted him at
the door to the dining room.
    “Call me Aaron,” Hanlon said.
    Although Seph had been careful to arrive on time,
service was already underway. The room was reminiscent of the dining hall in a
very expensive ski lodge: soaring beamed ceilings, flagstone floors, a mammoth
fireplace, and a wall of windows overlooking a waterfall.
    The alumni were gathered around a long table. There
were fifteen in all, not counting Seph, a mixture of faculty members and
“researchers” like Warren and Bruce. Leicester wasn't there. Servers
circulated unobtrusively, pouring beverages, passing platters of appetizers,
clearing dishes, and taking orders from an upscale menu. To Seph's surprise,
beer, wine, and liquor flowed freely, but then, he guessed most of the alumni
were of age.
    Aaron placed Seph in a position of honor, at the table
center, then sat beside him, with Kenyon King, a phys. ed. teacher, on his
other side, and Bruce and Warren across the table. Someone set a platter of
spiced shrimp in front of him, a glass of wine by his right hand. The alumni up
and down the table introduced themselves.
    At the far end of the table was a rumpled kid with
glasses and a twitch, who introduced himself as Peter Conroy. It was the boy
Seph had met in the woods two days before, on the way to swimming. He tried to
catch Peter's eye, but the other boy wouldn't look at him. Seph shrugged. It
seemed less important here, surrounded by wizards, than it had been the other
day.
    Seph sipped cautiously at his wine, meaning to keep
his wits about him. It had a distinct Gewurz nose. He smiled to himself.
Genevieve had taken a typical French attitude toward wine, considering it less
risky than water. So he'd had his share at her table and in Europe.
    “So tell us about yourself, Joseph,” Aaron
suggested. Everyone leaned forward.
    The question he despised. “Um … I was born in
Toronto, but I've moved around a lot. I was raised by a