I ran exhausted fingers through disheveled curls and shook a finger at Khrista in warning. “I’m telling you now, woman, if you don’t discipline that little beast before she enters my schoolroom, you’ll be teaching her yourself.”
“Don’t you threaten my granddaughter.” Rosanna’s damp eyes shone with relief, gratitude, and deep affection as she hugged me close.
Delirious with relief, I wiped my eyes and dragged Anders from the noisy room, only to find Gwynn, pale and thin, propped up between Maylen and the Queen of Tuldamoran.
“I was told you did not care to wait for me, to see if I would live.” Gwynn’s large brown eyes were overflowing with sorrow and accusation as he struggled to stay upright on shaky legs.
Though my impulse had been to run to his side, I stopped in mid-stride, my heart beating unbearably loud, at a loss for words.
At the stricken look on my face, Maylen jabbed Gwynn sharply with her elbow until he cried out in pain. “That is a cruel joke. Apologize to Alex. Now!”
Apologize? “You little—” I lunged for my brother as he hid behind Elena, who crossed her arms and barred my way. “Don’t you have a kingdom to rule?”
“My very efficient counselors and heir do that for me.” She grinned, pulling Anders and me into a warm embrace. As she caught sight of Jackson, walking out of the master bedroom with Sernyn, Elena went very still.
Anders looked at me, vastly amused. “Oh, my.”
“Indeed. Could be interesting, don’t you think?” I punched his arm playfully as Sernyn joined us. “Thank you.” I hugged him close, surprising us both. “Mother would’ve been proud of you.”
He touched my cheek, slightly dazed. “She would have been filled with pride for her daughter, too.”
“After how I treated you?” I asked quietly. “How can you say that?”
“Because I know well what Emila would have thought. Alex, believe me.” Sernyn’s smile was warm and unrestrained. “She would have been proud to see how you’ve grown.”
“Are you?”
He read the uncertainty in my eyes and kissed my cheek. “Never more than today.”
“Even though I lied?” When he stepped away and blinked in confusion, I explained, “I told Rosanna, and I told you in no uncertain terms, that I didn’t need or want a father. That was a lie.”
“You were confused.”
Relieved at his smile, I pushed my father toward Gwynn. “Your son is feeling neglected.” I grinned at my brother before turning back to Anders, an odd, wondering expression on my face as a peculiar thought entered my mind.
“Now what?” He crossed his arms, eyes alert with suspicion.
“I have an idea.”
“I was afraid of that.”
Taking the plunge, I beckoned him closer with my finger until we stood eye to eye. “I was just trying to figure out, what with our crazy bloodlines, precisely what kind of little mage you and I could create.”
Cool seagray eyes widened in undisguised surprise as he caught the wistfulness in my whisper. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“Quite.”
With an impossibly bright grin, Anders swept me up in his arms. Flashing a bemused look at Elena, as she turned to us in surprise, he shrugged. “I know it’s the middle of the night, and you do so love to come knocking at our door, but would you mind not visiting until morning?”
Elena’s smile matched his in delight as she waved us away. “And Alex always said you were so old. I never believed her for a moment.”
About the Author
Virginia G. McMorrow has worked as an editor/writer for 25 years. Ginny has worked for business publishers as an editor of books, journals, and newsletters in New York City. She has had numerous articles and short stories published. As a playwright, she has also had numerous short one acts and one full-length play produced off-off Broadway in a black box theater.
Mage Confusion
Book One in The Crownmage Trilogy
By Virginia G. McMorrow
A young woman’s courage, stubbornness, and heart stand firm in the face of dangerous magic.
Excerpt:
“You can't change the magnitude of what you're doing.”
“Would you rather I set the entire woods ablaze?”
“Alex, be reasonable,” Anders tried the diplomatic approach, “for a change.”
Well, not quite diplomatic.
“I should be reasonable?” I shouted. “You want me to risk the woods, my cottage, your worthless body, and me, by trying to force my uncontrollable talent to its potential?” I stamped around the clearing, muttering and swearing viciously. “Are you mad? Or just an idiot?”
Anders stood in the center of the glade, arms crossed against his broad chest, legs slightly apart, balanced. The man was persistent as a hungry seahag with delicious, tempting, and cornered prey within reach. Engaging, in an odd sort of way I wasn’t quite able to put my finger on.
“I don't want to push your talent to its limit, Alex, particularly since we don't know what those limits are. These puny manifestations you've been showing may be all you can do.”
“Puny? How dare you?”
“It wouldn't surprise me.”
I should have scratched out his eyes the first time I saw him. He was nothing but trouble. Suddenly, he didn’t appear quite so engaging.
“All I want is for you to give me a bonfire, perhaps, instead of a candle flame. Not a forest ablaze with crackling flames. A small hill of dirt rather than a pile no bigger than I'd find in Lady Barlow's gardens. Not a mountain. A pool of water bigger than a bucket. Not the Skandar Sea.”
“I quite get your insulting point.”
“Then do it.” Anders stood motionless, taunting me with a cool stance. “Stop muttering, and do it before I grow old and die.”
“I wish you would.”
“I'm not quite ready.”
“That’s too bad.”
Furious at his nagging, I coaxed the fire and ice and tamed them until they merged with scant effort, copper pendant clutched so tight in one hand I thought the imprint of the tidal crest would burn into my palm. Not a candle, or a hill, or a bucket for this flameblasted old beast. I kept an eye on the fallen, decayed log to Anders' side and envisioned a gust of wind stronger than my first attempt those weeks ago. Not a tempest, of course. The old man wouldn't approve, but a gust strong enough to make him pay close and careful attention.
Envisioned it. Felt it.
Opened my eyes to watch in spiteful joy Anders' dark hair tossing wildly in the wind I'd created. Stubborn, he stood in the same spot, cloak snapping from the force of the wind. I coaxed the talent further, seduced it, pushed it. Felt the gust increase a hundred-thousand fold in strength. Watched as small pieces of deadwood and leaves were swept away. Watched tree limbs bend and sway, fighting the gale.
Watched in horror as the wind snatched Anders up as though he weighed nothing more than a fallen leaf and slammed his body against the oak tree.
I panicked.
Losing control of the cool warmth, I felt the sharp pain of ice and flame rip through my head, blinding me. Shaken, I waited only a heartbeat before running across the clearing to Anders. He lay unconscious, slumped against the tree trunk, just like Jules all those years ago. Frantic, I felt Anders' neck for a pulse in the loud silence of the banished windstorm.
* * * *
“You're reacting like a frightened child.”
Refusing to listen or watch Anders limp painfully to my side, I turned my back on him. “I won't use the talent ever again, Anders. I could have killed you.”
“But you didn't.” He eased the weight from his bandaged knee with careful movements. “Besides, I provoked you. I wouldn't leave you be.”
“That doesn’t excuse what happened.” Bitterness and shame nearly choked me. “I risked hurting you to spite you,” I admitted, studiously avoiding his eyes. “I was careless and arrogant.”
“Yes, you were.” Anders put a hand und
er my chin and forced me to look into his calm gaze. “So you learned a lesson.”
“At your expense.”
“You would have been well rid of me if the wind was any stronger. That should be a comfort to you should you ever be angry with me again. Or are you so accustomed to my engaging personality you would have missed me?”
“You know I would.” My voice was subdued, instinct telling my heart a truth my head wasn’t quite ready to accept. “That's not funny.”
He restrained a laugh, hand still resting under my chin. “I'm all right.”
“You were lucky.” I sat back, forcing his hand to fall away.
Anders straightened, groaning involuntary as he leaned on his injured knee. “At the risk of making me aware of my aging, decrepit bones, you will, at least, admit we made some progress?”
“It doesn't matter. I'll not use it again. Not ever. Not for you or Elena. Most of all not for me.”
“Then you'll have wasted everything I've taught you.”
“I'll make it up to you somehow; pay you for the time you wasted.”
“Don't be sorry, Alex!” he snapped, grabbing his woolen cloak and heading for the door. “And don't insult me. I'm not doing this for money. I'm here because of your mother. And because I believe in you.”
“Even now?”
“Learn from this mistake and put it behind you. You're not a coward, but you're acting like one. You'll withdraw where it's safe just so you won't risk making another mistake. And another lifetime will pass.”
“My choice.”
“A wrong one. You'll throw away your talent when you could be doing something useful with it. How can we ever learn or better ourselves without making mistakes or taking risks?” I didn't answer, fighting back tears of grief and humiliation. “Your mother would have been disappointed.”
“Get out.” I snarled.
Anders shuffled to the door. “When you've come to your senses, you know where to find me.”
Acknowledgements
Many thanks to Cherry Weiner, Lea Schizas, Nancy Bell, Greta Gunselman, and Suzan Safi for all their help in making this fantasy a reality!
Mage Resolution © 2012 by Virginia G. McMorrow
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, or events, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
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Cover Art © 2012 by Suzannah Safi
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eBook ISBN: 978-1-77127-082-3
First eBook Edition *June 2012
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Mage Resolution (Book 2) Page 24
