Read Online The Enchanter Heir by Cinda Williams Chima - Free Book Online
Authors: Cinda Williams Chima
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Jeanette. It’s a whole lot of things.”
“You’re protecting the public,” Kenzie suggested.
“Am I? It feels more like murder to me. Anyway, what do I care about the general public? They have no idea they’re being protected.” Sitting up a little, he sipped from his steaming mug of drinkable chocolate. “More?” He waggled the thermos.
“I’m good,” Kenzie said.
For a while, they said nothing, each lost in his own thoughts.
“I’m going to write a symphony for Jeanette,” Kenzie said finally.
“Good idea.” Jonah nodded. “Will you be wanting lyrics?”
“Maybe. But it seems like we should do something more than write a song.”
Jonah blotted condensation from his face with his fore arm. “I riffed Longbranch and Wylie. They’re the ones who kidnapped her.”
“That’s not enough,” Kenzie said.
“What—you want me to kill more people? Got anybody
in mind?”
Kenzie rolled his eyes. “I do, but that’s me. Her death has to mean something. It has to make a difference. I keep thinking . . . what would Jeanette want? And I think what she would want is for us to fix this.” He waved his hand, spraying droplets over the roof.
“Fix what?”
“You know, save the children of Thorn Hill. This cannot stand. We need a plan.” He looked up at Jonah, his eyes bright with tears.
“I know,” Jonah said, squeezing Kenzie’s shoulder. “We need a plan.”
“To Jeanette,” Kenzie said, raising his mug in a toast.
“To Jeanette,” Jonah echoed, clanking mugs with his brother. “She would love the fact that you’re toasting her with Cadbury’s.”
Chapter Seven
Motherless Child
Emma was glad she’d decided to drive herself to Ohio. Twelve hours is a long way to drive, but it’s also a long time to ride in a van with the father that you just found out about a few hours ago. Though maybe it would’ve been a good time to ask questions, since he’d be trapped in there with her.
She was bone-weary and itchy-eyed by the time she reached Cleveland. It didn’t help that she couldn’t sleep.
Cleveland Heights was a mingle of twisty streets lined with older homes on tiny lots, commercial streets with stores, bars, and restaurants, and broad boulevards bordered by mansions in brick and stone. She parked in a garage on Coventry Road and called Tyler from a nearby coffee shop.
She half expected he wouldn’t answer, that he’d have disappeared on her again, but he answered on the first ring. “Boykin.”
“I’m here,” she said simply. “In Grinder’s Coffee on Coventry Road. Can you meet me?”
“Be a few minutes,” he said, and clicked off.
She knew him as soon as he walked in. He reminded her of Sonny Lee—though Tyler was taller, and lighter-skinned, with that smudgy glow that some people have, like there’s a light on inside.
He came straight at her and stood awkwardly next to the table. “Emma? I’m Tyler. I’m going to get some coffee. You want anything?”
Yeah, Emma thought. I want to know where the hell you’ve been all this time. But she shook her head.
Tyler returned to the table with a large coffee, a big slab of cake, and two forks.
“I just had a feeling you wanted some cake,” he said, settling into the chair across from her and handing her one of the forks.
If you knew anything about me, Emma thought, you’d know I don’t like carrot cake.
She studied him across the table. He was handsome, with Cherokee cheekbones, as Sonny Lee called them. Yet he seemed timeworn, too, like he’d lived a hundred years in forty. Emma brushed her fingers over her own face, wondering if one day she’d look the same.
“I’ve seen you before,” she said. “Haven’t I?”
He nodded. “When you were real little, of course,” he said. “And I brought you back from Brazil.”
“You were a lot younger,” Emma said. “I remember dragging this old suitcase around. You carried me on your shoulders sometimes.”
“I think you’ve changed more
“You’re protecting the public,” Kenzie suggested.
“Am I? It feels more like murder to me. Anyway, what do I care about the general public? They have no idea they’re being protected.” Sitting up a little, he sipped from his steaming mug of drinkable chocolate. “More?” He waggled the thermos.
“I’m good,” Kenzie said.
For a while, they said nothing, each lost in his own thoughts.
“I’m going to write a symphony for Jeanette,” Kenzie said finally.
“Good idea.” Jonah nodded. “Will you be wanting lyrics?”
“Maybe. But it seems like we should do something more than write a song.”
Jonah blotted condensation from his face with his fore arm. “I riffed Longbranch and Wylie. They’re the ones who kidnapped her.”
“That’s not enough,” Kenzie said.
“What—you want me to kill more people? Got anybody
in mind?”
Kenzie rolled his eyes. “I do, but that’s me. Her death has to mean something. It has to make a difference. I keep thinking . . . what would Jeanette want? And I think what she would want is for us to fix this.” He waved his hand, spraying droplets over the roof.
“Fix what?”
“You know, save the children of Thorn Hill. This cannot stand. We need a plan.” He looked up at Jonah, his eyes bright with tears.
“I know,” Jonah said, squeezing Kenzie’s shoulder. “We need a plan.”
“To Jeanette,” Kenzie said, raising his mug in a toast.
“To Jeanette,” Jonah echoed, clanking mugs with his brother. “She would love the fact that you’re toasting her with Cadbury’s.”
Chapter Seven
Motherless Child
Emma was glad she’d decided to drive herself to Ohio. Twelve hours is a long way to drive, but it’s also a long time to ride in a van with the father that you just found out about a few hours ago. Though maybe it would’ve been a good time to ask questions, since he’d be trapped in there with her.
She was bone-weary and itchy-eyed by the time she reached Cleveland. It didn’t help that she couldn’t sleep.
Cleveland Heights was a mingle of twisty streets lined with older homes on tiny lots, commercial streets with stores, bars, and restaurants, and broad boulevards bordered by mansions in brick and stone. She parked in a garage on Coventry Road and called Tyler from a nearby coffee shop.
She half expected he wouldn’t answer, that he’d have disappeared on her again, but he answered on the first ring. “Boykin.”
“I’m here,” she said simply. “In Grinder’s Coffee on Coventry Road. Can you meet me?”
“Be a few minutes,” he said, and clicked off.
She knew him as soon as he walked in. He reminded her of Sonny Lee—though Tyler was taller, and lighter-skinned, with that smudgy glow that some people have, like there’s a light on inside.
He came straight at her and stood awkwardly next to the table. “Emma? I’m Tyler. I’m going to get some coffee. You want anything?”
Yeah, Emma thought. I want to know where the hell you’ve been all this time. But she shook her head.
Tyler returned to the table with a large coffee, a big slab of cake, and two forks.
“I just had a feeling you wanted some cake,” he said, settling into the chair across from her and handing her one of the forks.
If you knew anything about me, Emma thought, you’d know I don’t like carrot cake.
She studied him across the table. He was handsome, with Cherokee cheekbones, as Sonny Lee called them. Yet he seemed timeworn, too, like he’d lived a hundred years in forty. Emma brushed her fingers over her own face, wondering if one day she’d look the same.
“I’ve seen you before,” she said. “Haven’t I?”
He nodded. “When you were real little, of course,” he said. “And I brought you back from Brazil.”
“You were a lot younger,” Emma said. “I remember dragging this old suitcase around. You carried me on your shoulders sometimes.”
“I think you’ve changed more
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