“Not now. Please.”
“Now, Alex.”
I closed my eyes to avoid his reaction. “I’m afraid,” I whispered.
“Of me?” He dropped his arm in surprise, immediately losing his balance.
“No.” I shook my head, steadying him. “Of what you and I could do.”
Thoroughly confused, Anders edged his face closer to mine. Threads of gray in his black hair caught the moon’s glint. “What more could we do that we haven’t already done?”
“You’re a Crownmage, Anders.” I ignored his lusty grin.
“Yes.” He blinked.
“I’m some bastardized version of a mage.”
“Indeed.” He smiled cautiously, trying hard to follow my point without making a mess of things.
“If we had children—”
Sudden understanding lit his eyes. “Alex. Oh, Alex, it won’t happen to you. I won’t let it. We won’t even have children,” he said earnestly, spinning me in a circle. “I won’t risk your life in childbirth, not unless we know more about your mage talent and that it’s perfectly safe for you to have a child. And only if you want it, too.” Anders hugged me to his chest, possibly more to stop himself from falling than from affection. “Foolish idiot. Honestly, Alex. Let’s go home. We’ll talk about it there.”
Relieved, I let him lead me down the path, both of us stumbling and weaving a little. But my relief lasted only a few moments. I stopped walking, alert, instinct screeching, one hand pressed firmly on his arm.
He stopped, edged away from me, searching. “Something’s burning.” Seagray eyes, swiftly sober, turned back down the path. “The cottage. Hurry.”
I passed him, running blind as thick smoke swirled round me, choking me, as I turned the bend. Flames sprang from the windows and darted through the open doorway.
“Alex.” Anders was shouting as he caught up to me. “My talent is useless here. I can’t put out the flames. Hurry, before it reaches the woods.”
I nodded, blinking back tears from the heavy smoke, and the sight of my home, my mother’s home, in flames. Furious, I urged the fire and ice awake, merging it to cool warmth without effort, envisioned the flames as soft, gentle rain. Eyes closed, I heard the loud hiss of steam and sank to my knees.
“Water?” Anders came up behind me, coughing raggedly.
“If I turned it to air, most of the cottage would’ve vanished.” I looked in dismay at the charred walls and practically nonexistent roof, knowing the damage was worse inside. My books— “Anders.” I turned to him, a sharp word on my tongue, but stopped at the concern in his eyes, and something more, far more dangerous.
“If they wanted you dead, they miscalculated.”
“No.” I shook my head, pushing strands of hair from my face, leaving streaks of soot on my forehead. “It was a warning. Why else wait until we were on our way back here? Which makes me wonder if the attack in Glynnswood was only a warning, too. Did they fail to murder us because they intended to fail? I can’t think.” I slumped against his chest, exhausted. “What a mess.”
“Let it dry. We’ll come back in the morning. At least your mother’s notes are safe.” Anders gave me an odd look. “Your instinct frightens me sometimes.”
My eyes followed his gaze to the large boulder protecting the oak chest. “Me, too. Where should we go?” I said, suddenly lost without the cottage that had been my home and shelter for so long.
“Back to the Hill, of course.” He hugged me tight. “The wedding celebration’s probably still going on.”
* * * *
The celebration was indeed still going on, but much quieter. Khrista and Kerrie had vanished, along with most of the guests, leaving only stragglers behind. Rosanna. Jules. Lauryn. Brendan talking seriously to someone I couldn’t see behind Lauryn. Blinking as we entered the bright-lit hall, I blinked again, and saw Elena. And Erich, speaking to Brendan, who gasped in surprise at the sight of us.
Anders gripped my hand in warning. Or perhaps to hold me back from ripping Erich’s throat out in front of Elena. Maybe it was coincidence, maybe not. But he wouldn’t be foolish enough to set the blaze himself. Confused, I stopped in the entrance to the ballroom.
“Alex! I was just about to steal some wine from Jules and wake you up.” Elena waved merrily at the sight of me, her smile transforming into a puzzled frown as though her brain couldn’t interpret what her eyes were seeing. “What’s all that dirt?” As she came closer, her frown deepened. “What’s happened?”
“Ashes,” I said quietly, keeping her pristine tunic and trousers at arm’s length from the soot I flicked off my once-festive clothes.
Rosanna flew to my side, eying me from head to foot before doing the same to Anders. “Are you all right?”
I met her stare evenly, fighting to hold back tears. “The cottage, all the duke’s work, it’s all—” My voice faltered briefly as I thought of the old duke and how he’d treated me like a daughter, but I caught it back under control. “It’s destroyed.” It was more difficult to keep a tight rein on the fire and ice that threatened to explode and consume Erich.
Ignoring the ashes and soot, she hugged me close. “We’ll build another.”
“Not until I find out who did this.” I pushed back from her comforting embrace as Erich’s deep voice sounded behind me before Rosanna could answer.
“Elena, this is the second attempt on Alex’s life.” His earnest voice dripped masterfully with deep concern. Too bad he never learned to mask the coolness in his eyes as they met mine without a trace of challenge and defiance. “It’s intolerable. Alex must be protected.”
Elena turned to me, oblivious to his lie. “I wanted to talk to you, anyway, after what happened in Glynnswood. I’ll have guards posted.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want it. I don’t need it. They don’t want me dead, at least not yet.” Ignoring my friend’s concern, I turned the defiance back to Erich. “All I want is to find the one responsible—”
“Hush.” Anders came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me close. “How about some Marain Valley wine instead?”
Elena met his eyes over my head.
“Don’t think you can post guards without my knowledge. I’ll send them scurrying back to Ardenna before they’ve even unpacked their gear.”
“I had no such plan,” Elena fumbled over her lie. “What I don’t understand is why someone is after you.” She started to pace, as she always did when distressed, along the length of the ballroom, littered with wedding debris and leftover food and wine.
“Someone finds me a threat,” I said quietly, accepting some wine from Jules with thanks. “Me. All I want to do is teach, and some fool considers me a threat.” I shrugged, leaning back against Anders. “I won’t rest until they’re stopped or they manage to stop me. Whoever’s behind this little trouble has underestimated me.”
Anders kissed the top of my head. “Along with the rest of us, I’m afraid. Lords of the sea know why, Alex, but we’re all ready to protect you.”
“We are?” Jules said with perfect innocence, green eyes wide, wincing as Lauryn’s sharp elbow bit into his side.
“What will you do now?” Erich watched me, ignoring the banter, eyes cool as he flipped a wayward blond strand from his forehead. “You’re welcome to stay at Ardenna. I’m sure Elena wouldn’t mind, and we could certainly keep a closer eye on you, Alex, to see if anyone is trailing you.”
“Thanks, but no.” I laughed with feigned warmth, tightening the control over the fire and ice that hungered to devour his heart. “I don’t think Elena could tolerate me in such close quarters, particularly since I’d be complaining about Ardenna from the moment I arrived. No, I think I’ll stay here, if Lady Barlow doesn’t mind.”
Considering that the old witch had wanted me to return to the manor from the day I left some years ago, Rosanna kept her expression bland with admirable restraint. “I think I cou
ld tolerate your presence for a day or two. Anders, naturally, for a longer period.”
“If anyone cares, I mind.” Jules kept a safe distance from his wife.
“You may be Duke of Port Alain, but you don’t rule here on the Hill. Your ladies do. All of them.”
“They do not.”
Anders leaned over my shoulder to tug on his silk sleeve. “Trust me, they do.”
Laughing at Jules’s mournful expression, I caught and held Erich’s gaze. A smile graced his lips, icy contempt blazed in his eyes. What had I done to make him my enemy? Destroyed his ally, Firemage Ravess? If that were true, Elena needed to know her lover and future prince was a traitor. “Will you be returning to Ardenna?” If he wanted to keep a close eye on me, the feeling was mutual, and I didn’t care that he knew it. In fact, I wanted him to know.
Erich nodded. “For a time. Unless any trouble comes up in Barrow’s Pass. I still have responsibilities there,” he added, the image of the responsible, respectable duke, entirely distinct from Jules, who, in spite of his flaws, ruled well and fairly. “But please let us know if you change your mind about coming to Ardenna. Elena’s Mage Champion needs to be kept safe so she can keep Elena safe. And truly, Alex,” —his eyes widened with hypocritical sincerity— “I’d feel better if I could be of help.”
“I’m sure you would.” And I’d feel safer in the jaws of a ravenous seabeast. “Ah. Well, if I think of any way you might help, I’ll send word.” I glanced at Elena, who’d finally stopped pacing. “If that’s all right with you?”
“Of course. Alex, you don’t even need to ask. And if you’d feel safer in Ardenna, then please come. I know you despise being there, but it may be safer.”
“Maybe I will. But not now.” My smile at Erich promised sweet vengeance. “Not yet. But thanks.”
Brendan, who’d been standing behind Erich, watching and listening, caught my eye and winked.
Chapter Seven
“Flameblast whoever did this,” I muttered, staring at the pathetic ruins of the cottage. “My favorite boots. All worn and soft just as I like them.”
“I’ll buy you another pair.” Anders flapped a sooty tunic in the breeze to brush clinging ashes from the burned material. He discarded it when he saw it was damaged beyond the possibility of mending.
“They won’t be the same.” Disheartened, I flung the ruined boots to the pile of hopelessly lost items.
“Always time for something new. Besides, it’s a good excuse to spend some of your riches on the local merchants.”
“My riches? Old man, I think maybe a piece of rubble hit your head last night. You’re imagining things. Riches,” I snorted, starting to toss my old cloak to the pile of salvageable possessions, but stopped with my arm outstretched. “Is that why you’re still hanging around Port Alain? Biding your time, waiting for me to tell you where I hid my treasure?”
“Sure. The Mage Champion is rumored to be wealthy, so it seemed reasonable to stay nearby in case you talked in your sleep. But all you do is snore.”
“Precisely how wealthy?”
“Fabulously.”
“You don’t think robbery was behind all this?” I waved a hand at the mess we were sorting through, the half-standing walls, charred furniture, the caved-in roof. I shoved aside the grief that threatened to creep back into my heart.
Anders stopped rummaging through the dirt and ashes and gave me a peculiar look. “I was only teasing.”
“Yes, I know. But is there really a rumor like that going round?”
His shrug was nonchalant as the cool autumn breeze tossed back his hair. “Remember all those rumors about the Crownmage a year ago, and how all powerful and all—”
“Yes.” I dusted my trousers. “And look at you.”
He scowled at my smug expression, wounded when I laughed. “Anyway, I don’t know of a specific rumor about your wealth, but it wouldn’t surprise me if there were rumors flying around for some reason. Especially since you’re real, and I’m only a legend.”
“I never paid much attention to any of the stories about you, and I certainly don’t care about me.”
“Maybe you should.”
“And let Erich off the seahook so easily? Not a chance in hell.” I went back to rummaging, delighted to find a handful of books only half ruined.
“Why don’t you ask Jules? He usually has an ear for that sort of talk,” Anders suggested, tossing me a boot for inspection.
“Mindless chatter.”
“Always with a grain of truth.”
“Ah.” I sent Anders an innocent look. “Like the rumors of the Crownmage and your, ah, virility?” Too late, I caught his intention from the mischief that flashed in his eyes. One tiny shove and I landed on my backside in a heap of damp ashes. Before he could dodge my grip, I pulled him down beside me, making very sure he had as much dirt and ashes on every inch of his body as I had on mine. Sputtering, Anders grabbed a handful of the wet gritty stuff and dumped it over my head.
“I hope you’re searching for my betrothal gift.”
We both jumped, startled, and guilty. Elena sat on an uncharred tree stump at the far edge of the clearing, one eyebrow eloquently lifted.
Lords of the sea, what had she heard? “Ah, no.” I brushed ashes from my hair. “Actually, your gift is quite safe.”
“I hope so.”
“Alex pushed me.” Anders cleaned off his tunic and trousers, not paying the slightest bit of attention to me.
“Liar.” I caught him off balance, shoved him back into the ashes, and swiftly put distance and the burned remains of an armchair between us.
“What will Elena think?” he scolded, rubbing his face, leaving streaks across the lines of his cheeks and forehead.
“That you’re a fool.”
Elena crossed her arms, scowling, not at him, but at me. “I’d never think Anders was a fool. Now you, on the other hand—”
“Pity.” I plopped down on a fallen log beside her, nonchalant but alert to any clues of what she might have overheard. She’d been sitting far enough away, and we’d wrestled for some moments. So maybe, we were safe. “How is it possible, your Majesty, that you left your beloved alone in bed?”
“He’s not in bed.” Dark blue eyes flashed with mischief, though her cheeks blazed scarlet. “If he were, I’d still be there.”
“Under Rosanna’s roof? Shameful.”
“She made certain we had the best guest room with the largest bed.”
“The old witch never had any morals. Hmmm. I wonder if Anders and I should be insulted. We were guests, too, last night, and our bed wasn’t anywhere near as comfortable as yours,” I complained, slanting a glance at Anders, whose expression gave nothing away. “In fact, it had quite a few lumps that rubbed against all the wrong spots.”
“I’m Queen, remember?” Elena poked my arm. “Though for all the time we spent in that bed, it was nearly wasted. Erich left early this morning to return to Barrow’s Pass. A courier arrived soon after you went upstairs last night. He has some matters that need his attention in the next few weeks.”
“Doesn’t he get weary, scurrying back and forth?”
“Yes, I suppose.” Elena shrugged, apparently oblivious to what Anders and I had been discussing. “But it’s only until he gives the responsibility to someone else. And that person hasn’t been selected yet. Besides, he wasn’t planning to return home quite so soon.”
I’ll bet. “Did he take your troops back with him to add to the tax burden of your poor hardworking subjects?”
Anders queried me with his eyes as he joined us, sitting cross-legged on the pile of salvageable clothes in need of serious washing.
“My troops?” Elena darted a questioning look at Anders. “Since when have you started to complain about paying taxes, Alex? And no, he had his own Barrow’s Pass troops. He never travels without them.”
“There, you see?” I gave Anders a meaningful glance, wondering which of Erich’s guard dogs razed my cottage. “
I had every confidence Erich respected the plight of the poor taxpayers and brought his own guards.”
“Alex.” Elena’s bemused expression turned thoughtful.
“Forgive her, Elena.” Anders cut in swiftly before she could voice any theory about my comments. “Losing the cottage has rattled her brains. She’s worried about taxes because I was teasing her about the hidden riches she’s rumored to have. And if you find out they exist, you’ll send tax collectors breathing down her neck.”
Elena turned inquisitive eyes my way. “Do you?”
“Lords of the sea, not you, too?” I dusted ashes from my tunic in her direction on purpose. “Fools, both of you.”
Sweeping the dust away, Elena crossed her legs and rested her chin on one hand, quite the lady, considering the circumstances.
I was immediately suspicious. “What?”
“I wish you’d let me keep a small troop here, or at least have some of the Port Alain guards keep an eye on you, if you’re so worried about taxes.” An impish grin accompanied that last bit.
“I said ‘no’ last night. Must I bore you and repeat myself?”
“If it hadn’t been for the attack in Glynnswood,” she hedged, glancing to Anders for support, “I wouldn’t worry. But this attack right after that one–”
“We still don’t know for certain that a Glynnswood scout wasn’t behind the attack.” When Anders’ eyes flashed in sudden annoyance, I shook my head. “Just keeping an open mind. They were Glynnswood arrows, Master Perrin. And those skillful, highly acclaimed scouts couldn’t find a clue.”
“You can’t think clearly about Glynnswood, so don’t bother to discuss it.”
“Alex.” Elena placed a hand on my arm as I turned away in annoyance. At her touch, and the intimate tone in her voice, I hardened my heart, knowing she’d try to probe the wound as persistently as Rosanna. “Lords of the sea, take that stony look from your face. I can’t talk to you when you look like you’re ready to rip my throat out.” She knelt in front of me, despite the dirt and dust, forcing me not to look away. “Someone knows how you feel about your father and used it to their advantage. If you suspect there’s a connection to Glynnswood, maybe your father should be warned.”
Mage Resolution (Book 2) Page 5
