“Most are not. Most are only what you would call wayward.” Leicester shrugged dismissively. “We recruit students who've had difficulty elsewhere because often that includes persons like yourself. The untrained gifted.” The headmaster toyed with an elaborate ring he wore on the middle finger of his left hand. “How much do you know about the guilds and the elements of power?”

“A little.”

“Tell me.”

Seph searched his memory. “Um. The gifted are born with Weirstones, a crystalline source of power that sits behind the heart,” he recited. “The power runs in families. The … ah … kind of Weirstone you have determines the nature and extent of your power and which of the guilds you belong to.”

When Seph paused, Leicester nodded, encouraging him to go on.

“The magical guilds include sorcerers, seers, warriors, enchanters and wizards. In the specialty guilds, the magic is more elemental, more direct. Wizards are the most powerful, because they shape magic with words.”

“And who told you all this?”

“My foster mother. She was a sorcerer.”

Genevieve claimed she'd promised his parents not to involve him in the dangerous world of wizardry. So she'd left him with a thousand questions and a power he couldn't control.

“And where is your foster mother?”

“She died three years ago.”

“Pity.” Leicester mustered up the familiar, sympathetic look. “So you don't have any family.”

“Not really.”

“What is your House affiliation?”

The same question Alicia had asked. Maybe now he could finally get some information. “I guess I don't know much about the Houses.”

Leicester studied him with his ball-bearing eyes, as if trying to decide if he was telling the truth. “As the ruling guild, wizards have been required to develop systems for the allocation of power. Else we would have had Armageddon on our hands.”

Seph sensed that Leicester had delivered this speech many times before.

"There are two major Houses of wizards, the Red Rose and the White. Wizard families align themselves with one or the other, and many of those allegiances go back to the War of the Roses in fifteenth-century Britain. Interactions between the Houses have been governed by a document called the Rules of Engagement, the treaty that ended the war.

“For centuries, power has been allocated between the Houses by a series of tournaments. Members of the Warrior Guild fight as proxies for the Roses. The winning house rules the Weir—the magical guilds—until the next tournament is held. It's a system that has worked well.”

Seph leaned forward. His weariness seemed to have disappeared. “Why haven't I heard of this?”

“Here in the States, many of the Weir don't know they are gifted. Old connections have been broken. Some who came here made a conscious decision to leave their Houses behind.” Leicester sighed. “I suppose the underguilds saw it as an opportunity to escape from service. But for wizards, the result is that young people like yourself have no guidance or instruction. And that can be disastrous. Our purpose here at the Havens is to remedy that.”

“So you're saying you can train me in wizardry?”

Leicester smiled. “I am saying that, yes.”

“And I'll learn how to control magic, and how to avoid…accidents.”

“Yes.”

After the warehouse, Seph had wanted to have nothing to do with magic, ever again. But he had no choice. In his case, power had a way of surfacing in uncontrollable ways. To be able to control magic, to use it properly … that would be a miracle.

But he knew enough to question wizards bearing gifts.

“What's in it for you?” Seph asked.

Leicester stood and walked to the window. He gazed out at the harbor, hands clasped behind his back. Then turned back to face Seph.

“These are troubled times for the Houses, a time of great danger. Back in the summer, a tournament in Britain went wrong. The Rules of Engagement were broken. A group of mostly servant-guild rebels has taken sanctuary in Ohio. An anarchist who calls himself the Dragon is fomenting rebellion and attacking wizards of both houses all over the world. Alliances are shifting. If war breaks out between the Houses again, we are all at risk.”

He paused, as if expecting a reaction, but Seph said nothing. He'd always found that he learned more if he kept quiet.

“To answer your question, I am still nominally affiliated with the White Rose. But it is my hope that through our work here at the Havens we can create a new path, a new order that ends the bloodshed and eliminates the constant warfare between the Houses. Think of what we could accomplish if we were not focused on murdering each other.”

That made sense.

“Are there students from other guilds here?” Seph asked. “Like warriors and … and sorcerers?”

“They hardly need the kind of instruction I can provide. After all, they are bred to a purpose.” Leicester's expression was faintly disdainful. “No, we focus on wizards. Our graduates become the most powerful users of magic in the world.”

“How long have you been doing this?”

“We graduated our first class five years ago.”

“How do people find out about the Havens? I've been looking for help for three years, and I've never heard of it.”

Leicester smiled thinly. “The nature of wizard politics requires that we be discreet. You may have heard that we closely control communications in and out of here. There is a reason.”

“But I don't understand why …”

“When you know more, you'll understand,” Leicester said sharply. “We can't risk discovery by those who would destroy our only real hope for peace. There are those who have a strong vested interest in maintaining the status quo. For that reason, it's important that no whisper of this reach the Roses.”

From what he knew of wizards, Seph wasn't surprised to learn that Leicester had a political agenda. Genevieve had infused into him a deep suspicion of wizard politics, which often seemed to involve bloodying the underguilds. No doubt the headmaster would try to get him involved sooner or later. But he'd deal with it, if he could get the help he needed. “How does it work? Who does the teaching? How long does it take?”

“Shall we assume, then, that you are interested in joining our magical collaborative?” Leicester's eyes glittered.

“Yes. Absolutely.” The precision of the wizard's language was a warning, but he could not afford to say no.

“Good,” Leicester said. “I thought that would be your answer.”

“When do we get started?” Seph persisted.

“Take a few days to settle in and get caught up with your other classes. Then we'll talk again. We have techniques that streamline the process.”

“Isn't there something I could be reading in the meantime, some way to prepare?”

Leicester studied him a moment. “Perhaps. Do you have a Weirbook?”

“I don't know what that is.” Alicia Middleton had mentioned Weirbooks at the party.

“Each member of the Weirguilds has a Weirbook, created at birth. Even those in the servant guilds. It summarizes the member's magical lineage and family history. Wizard Weirbooks include charms and incantations that have been handed down through families over the centuries.” He paused, raising his eyebrows in inquiry.

“I don't have one,” Seph admitted.

“Actually, you do have one,” Dr. Leicester said. “It's a matter of locating it. What is really key is what I told you earlier: we require total commitment from our wizardry students. Are you capable of that?”

“Yes, sir,” Seph replied. “You won't be disappointed.” He'd lived precariously for years, like someone with a terminal disease, never able to plan more than a few months ahead. Whatever the consequences of this decision, he'd risk it.

“Good,” Leicester said. “Oh, and it would be best for you not to discuss any of this with the Anaweir.” At Seph's blank look, he added, “The ungifted students. It only causes resentment, and we don't want them spreading rumors once they leave the Havens. In fact, it would be best for you to keep your distance from them outside of class.”

Seph thought of Trevor and Harris and Troy and the others. “I don't understand. Why do we …”

Leicester waved his hand impatiently. “Oh, be polite, of course. But you'll find you'll have little in common with them as your training progresses. Once you are properly enrolled, we'll move you into the Alumni House with the others.”

Seph remembered how Trevor and the others had responded when he mentioned the alumni. “The wizard students live in the Alumni House?”

Leicester nodded. “All of the alumni are gifted.”

Seph glanced at Hays and Barber. “Are they … have they all graduated? I mean … is there anyone else my age? Will I still be in class with the others?” He felt connected to Trevor and the others now that he'd met them.

“We'll get into that once your training is underway.” The wizard stood, signaling that the interview was at an end. “Now, you'd better get on to bed. You've had a long day.”

And Seph realized he had been dismissed.

Chapter Four

A Visit to the Alumni House

As promised, Seph's books and class schedule were delivered to his door early Sunday morning. He found the locations of the classroom buildings on the campus map, reviewed the syllabi, and started in on his reading. He'd always been a good student, so he didn't think he'd have any trouble catching up. He wanted to get as much work as possible out of the way before his classes in wizardry began.

By late afternoon, however, he was having trouble concentrating on eighteenth-century European history. He tried it with and without headphones. He moved from his bed to his desk, hoping sitting upright would enforce some discipline. But he found himself punching randomly at his keyboard, wishing he could go online. He was used to spending hours every day online with his friends, a stimulating blend of media, music, IMing, and homework.