The Source of Magic: A Fantasy Romance

by Rowan, Cate

  The man squinted at him. “Jealous lover?”

  Cold fire slid through Alvarr’s limbs. Jealous lover? This man is Jilian’s lover?

  Fury raged through him. His hands curled—he could tear this man’s head off in three seconds. One, two…

  “Alvarr!” Jilian’s voice rose in panic. “Please…”

  “Cur! You won’t get her back.” Alvarr bespelled Jilian through the empty air into his arms, spat at the man’s feet, and leapt into the Crossing.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  The abrupt rescue made Jilian gasp, but at least there’d been no bloodshed—although poor Dougal Macauley might need some therapy now that two people had vanished right before his eyes. Still, Alvarr’s body was warm against hers, and when he’d slid her down to the stone floor, she leaned her head on his chest in sweet relief. It was over, her mother had the herb, she’d made it to Teganne—and no one had been killed in the process.

  Alvarr stepped back so suddenly that she almost lost her balance. He grabbed her hand. “Send me more kyrra,” he snapped.

  Hurt, she opened her mouth to protest, but stopped. An emergency, maybe? She shut her eyes and did as he asked.

  Oh, the tingle—how she’d missed it! A smile crept to her lips. I’m safe… Safe at last, and here with Alvarr.

  They stood together long minutes as she transferred her power to him—much more than before. A huge barrel this time! He must be drained from the Crossings.

  After a while she began to feel lightheaded. She peered up at her lover’s face.

  His eyes were cold, so cold. She recoiled.

  He flung her hand away. “You betrayed me and you betrayed Teganne.”

  “What?” At the wrath in his eyes, her mind went blank.

  “After all I felt for you, you repaid me with treachery.” Alvarr seized her pendant, pulling the chain taut against the back of her neck. His eyes darkened as he stared at it, then dropped it as if it scalded him.

  He jerked his gaze to hers, as ominous as a god clutching lightning in his fists. “Liar. Harlot.”

  Breath exploded in Jilian’s chest.

  Alvarr brought his granite features inches from hers and his barbed glare impaled her. “May your world swallow you again. I wish I’d never seen your scheming face.”

  He stormed from the chamber. Only then did she notice Rokad in the room, staring after the departed Alvarr.

  The mage turned to her, opened his mouth to speak, then shut it. His expression was unreadable.

  Just as she was about to howl a denial of Alvarr’s accusations, Rokad walked out with measured strides that echoed through the empty room.

  Jilian reeled and clutched the wall behind her. What the hell does Alvarr think? I’d never betray him or Teganne. She stared at the vacant doorway.

  Early on she’d planned to escape, but that was before she’d realized she loved him. Had he found out?

  The stones in the wall at her back seemed to claw at her, crying out in hissing little voices: “You’re a traitor. False and treacherous. Hated.”

  Liar, he’d said. Harlot…

  Because of Dougal Macauley? She slid to the floor, heedless that her gown snagged on the stones.

  Alvarr! Whatever you might think of me right now, it isn’t true.

  After all that had happened—the risks, doing everything she could to fulfill her duties of love to both her mother and Alvarr—this was the result?

  Her eyes slammed shut. Nothing had turned out the way it should. Not since the night she’d dreamed of Alvarr’s voice.

  Tears spilled down her cheeks and she trembled, struggling for an explanation, an idea, some meaning for this whole, exhausting day.

  This wasn’t her life, her fate. It couldn’t be. She’d only ever wanted to live a quiet, safe, peaceful existence, and that was far from what she was getting here, a universe away from home.

  She sagged and flattened her cheek on the cold floor. His eyes, his eyes… The loathing in Alvarr’s gaze had shredded her.

  At long last, when her breathing had quieted, she came to a decision. She pushed herself upright, opened her palms and gazed at them. They shook.

  Jilian, these are your hands. She took a breath.

  This is your body, though it’s far from home. And this IS your life.

  She sat still, feeling the expansion and contraction of her lungs. In, out. In, out.

  Life goes on, even here.

  She pushed off the floor, shifted her shoulders back, and raised her chin. “I’m Jilian Stewart. I’ve only done what I had to do to survive, and to fulfill promises to those I love.” Her voice caught. Those I love. “I have nothing to be ashamed of.”

  But her words fell in empty air.

  She balled up her hands.

  Somehow she’d make him see that he was very, very wrong about her. Whatever he thought was untrue and unjust, and she’d prove it to him…to Rokad…to everyone.

  She took a deep, shuddering breath and headed toward her room.

  Alvarr stood at one of the windows of his chambers, staring out into the quiet darkness. Inside, his mind reeled under the fury of battling thunderstorms.

  A deep, soft cough from the doorway made his lip curl into a feral snarl and he wished he’d slammed the door shut behind him when he’d stormed in.

  “Alvarr.” Rokad said.

  He clenched his teeth and didn’t turn around.

  Slow footsteps crossed toward him. “Is there any other explanation about Jilian? Anything?”

  “No.”

  Rokad walked to the opposite end of the window, as calm as ever. “Listen, I can’t say I know her well—”

  “Then say nothing.”

  “—but from the conversation we had before you left—”

  Growling, Alvarr turned to him. “How could she spout that she loves me and yet betray me so easily? That’s not love.” He spun back to the soothing darkness.

  “What happened?” Rokad asked in a low voice.

  “I found another man in her house.”

  “And?”

  “He said he was her jealous lover.”

  Rokad jerked in surprise.

  “I seized her and took her back. I got what kyrra I could—enough to do the wardweavings, I think. As for Bhruic, I’ll make her do as she swore in her oath to Teganne,” he snarled. And to me.

  Brow furrowed, Rokad moved away and wandered the room as if to clarify his thoughts. “Do you know whether she was, ah…with him…after she returned to her world?”

  Alvarr gritted his teeth. “Why make me think of that? I don’t need the image of Jilian bedding another man!”

  Rokad merely waited patiently through his glare.

  In time, comprehension dawned. “You mean she may have been with him before me, but not after? But she’s never mentioned any man to me—”

  “Did you ask her?”

  “Well, no…”

  “You didn’t want to know.”

  Alvarr narrowed his eyes. “I suppose not. But you were here and didn’t see her in her world, or hear how her lover behaved.” He shook his head. “The whole time, she was trying to explain to him who I am.” The memory of it pounded into his brain and his view narrowed until all he could see was her hand on the man’s shoulder. Pride sank vicious teeth into him. “He was the one she sought to soothe, not me. Him.”

  He recalled how she’d nestled into him when they’d reached Teganne and was sickened by the ease with which she shifted her loyalty. Was she a chameleon and whichever man she was with got her attention?

  “When Jilian wasn’t there as we agreed, she…was probably…” kissing that man, looking into his eyes, sliding her body against his…

  He slammed his palms on the sill. “She told me she loved me. She’s a liar and an oathbreaker. No wonder she wanted me to take her home—to him!”

  A new thought exploded in his mind. “The herb… Sara… Was all that a lie, too? A ruse to get her back to her world?” He clutched the side
s of his head. “By Fate, maybe Sara’s alive and well and always has been!” His eyes widened and his breath heaved out. “Perhaps Jilian isn’t even Sara’s daughter? Suspicious timing, isn’t it? If Bhruic has a hand in this…” He stood and began to pace instead of Rokad. “The trip west, toward Fallorm…the wardholes that sprouted on the eastern borders while we were away in the west…the goroth. Could Bhruic have sent it because she’d told him we were there?”

  “What?” Rokad’s mouth dropped open. “You can’t be thinking straight. Jilian not Sara’s daughter? She looks exactly like her. And how else would she be a Source?” He shook his head. “You seek too hard.”

  Alvarr raked his hand through his hair, unable to escape the image of a naked Jilian with that man. “Damn, damn, damn.”

  Rokad only stood and spoke in a low voice. “You said you’ve renewed your kyrra. Do you wish to repair the weavings soon? I’ll spot you. Findar found some spells in the Old Letters that Bhruic may not know.”

  Alvarr hardened his expression into a mask to cover the turmoil within. “Give me a few minutes and I’ll meet you in the Council Room.”

  Rokad walked to the door, stopping just before he passed through it. “My friend,” he said softly, “sleep on this issue before you make any decisions. Remember your mother’s saying: Anger and fatigue breed idiocy.”

  Alvarr’s head shot up. His lips thinned, but he nodded. “I’ll see you soon.”

  Despite Rokad’s outer calm, the former mage left Alvarr’s chambers reeling from the prince’s wild thoughts.

  He certainly wouldn’t want to be Jilian right now. Alvarr’s temper was as fierce as a cornered boar and just as likely to inflict damage. He paced the halls with his gaze on the floor and mulled over their conversation.

  Near the outer edge of the royal wing, the light pad of shoes sounded in front of him. He looked up. It was Jilian, heading to her quarters.

  Their eyes locked. He couldn’t help it; wariness tightened his muscles.

  For a moment he caught the hurt in her eyes, then it was gone, replaced with a studied coolness before her gaze shifted away.

  He made a decision and slowed as she neared. “Jilian, may I speak with you?”

  Shoving her shoulders back, she said, “About what? My supposed betrayal? Or the duties apparently still required of me, though for some reason you and Alvarr think I’m a traitor?”

  Rokad shook his head. “It’s about Alvarr.”

  Her breath caught in her throat—a tiny pause, but he noticed. She swallowed and gave a nod.

  “Come with me, please.”

  When they reached his chambers off the courtyard, dark under the stars, he opened the door for her.

  Across the yard, Nenth watched until they went inside, then let her curtain drop.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  “Please make yourself comfortable.” Rokad waved Jilian toward the sitting room and shut the door behind them.

  She seated herself stiffly at the edge of the couch. “What do you want to discuss?”

  “Ah, first, would you like some water? Or wine, lirrah—?”

  “No, thank you.” She sent him a pointed look.

  “Right.” He gave a wry smile. “So much for easing into it.”

  He settled next to her and spoke as if cautiously measuring his words. “Clearly, Alvarr is furious. And hurt.”

  Well, she was, too. “Hmm,” she replied coolly.

  “He’s not in a mood to listen to explanations, or even reason. Instead, I thought I’d speak with you.” Rokad studied her as he added, “Alvarr’s in great pain right now. Because he loves you.”

  “You’re blaming me for it? Why—” But then her breaths turned shallow. “Did he actually tell you he loves me?”

  “He did. Before he went back to get you the second time.”

  “Oh.” Her voice grew acidic. “And that changed the way he feels. Obviously.”

  The mage gazed at her quietly until she almost felt ashamed of her bitter outburst. “Jilian,” he said at last, “what happened while you were gone?”

  “Damn it, I only did what I had to, from first to last.” Pent-up energy forced her off the couch to pace and her hands sliced the air with gestures as she spoke. “My mother was still alive, though barely. I gave her the starlace and then she slept. But in my world, there aren’t any spells. No healing trances. So the nurse—a kind of healer—believed I’d tried to kill her.”

  He furrowed his brow. “She thought you’d murder your own mother?”

  “That or assisted suicide—it’s considered a crime to help someone else die. I had to escape, but I’d lost the keys to my…mechanical fydd.” She shook her head. “The people I asked for assistance had done something illegal before I met them. The authorities caught them, and took me in for questioning, too, so I couldn’t meet Alvarr as we’d agreed.”

  She rubbed her temples and huffed out a breath. “Look, I was desperate. The officer who had taken us for questioning—well, he liked me. I didn’t do anything with him!” She spread her hands wide in plea. “And I never would have. But maybe I let him think—just a little—that I might, er, welcome his courtship—honorable courtship!—in the future, so he’d help me go free. I wanted to see Alvarr. So much.” Her voice broke.

  Nervous, she glanced at Rokad, but he simply listened with a quiet attention. “The man kindly escorted me to my home, but it looked like a thief had broken in. I knew it had to be Alvarr, but how could I explain him to this man? My people don’t believe in magic or other worlds, and besides—” she swallowed— “I’d let the man think I wasn’t attached. He entered my house to make sure it was safe, to protect me.” She gave a miserable sigh. “Just as Alvarr arrived.”

  She halted in front of Rokad. “I was trying to return as I’d promised. Whatever he thinks about it, he’s wrong. Now that I love him, I could never betray him.”

  The mage’s gaze sharpened. “Now that you love him? So you’d considered betraying him before?”

  She winced, then straightened with a defiant stare. “Yes, I had. I’d been torn from my own world and my dying mother, nearly killed as soon as I arrived here, and told I had to stay to fix troubles that had nothing to do with me. So yes. Can you really blame me? Maybe you think your problems here are so vast that I’m obligated to help. Even from the beginning, Alvarr called it a duty. But don’t you see? My life was in another world, one I’d been taken from against my will. And from the mother who needed me. My duty was to her, not to complete strangers.”

  “Then why did you change your mind?”

  “I fell in love, Rokad.” She locked eyes with him. “It’s that simple, and that complicated. I realized that what Alvarr wanted—the safety of Teganne, of his people—my mother’s people, my people—was important to me, too. So I resolved that once I’d helped my mother, I’d do all I could to help him.” Her shoulders fell. “He’s…an incredible man.”

  Rokad sat still for a moment, then sighed. “For what it’s worth, Jilian—I believe you.”

  The ghost of a smile raised the corners of her mouth. “Thank you.”

  “But I don’t know that Alvarr will believe yet. Have patience. Perhaps you should let him cool off for a few days.”

  “Cool off,” she said wearily. “You mean he won’t even listen to me. And what about the wardweavings? Don’t you need my help?”

  His blue eyes held hers as he reluctantly spoke. “You’ve transferred enough kyrra for him to patch them, at least for now.”

  The fury she’d nearly shed roared back into her. “I see…he’s taken my power and used me.” She marched to the door. “Thanks for the talk, Rokad, and your advice—though it’s bitter to swallow.”

  The morning dawned sunny, unlike Jilian, who’d been unable to sleep. Her feet padded on the thick carpet as she circled her chamber in the growing light.

  Have patience, Rokad had said, but she didn’t feel very patient. Or forgiving.

  She couldn’t believe Alvarr th
ought so badly of her. Jackass! Here she was in Teganne—having left her mother without knowing whether she was alive or dead, having damn well gone through contortions to get back here—and he didn’t even want to talk to her or hear what had really happened.

  If life mirrored thought, my head would burst into flames. Ooh, no—his head would. The appealing visual gave her a satisfied smile.

  She paused by the window and looked out over the castle yard. Carts laden with fruits and vegetables rolled in through the tall gates. Stableboys bustled about, carrying hay and wooden buckets of water. Fowl pecked for stray grains. Master Quibb talked animatedly with a sullen-faced farmer, and both took turns gesturing at the farmer’s roan steer.

  Then she saw him.

  Alvarr was leaning against a post near the stable. His arms were folded, one ankle crossed over the other, as he broodingly watched the goings-on.

  One of the stableboys approached with steps so slow that he seemed scared out of his young wits. He paused behind the prince, hands wringing his dusty garb. At last he got up the courage to step to Alvarr’s side and speak. She couldn’t make out what he said.

  When Alvarr looked at the boy, his face softened. He shook his head, said something, and pointed at Master Quibb. The boy nodded and bowed, then loped toward the yardmaster. A smile touched Alvarr’s mouth for a moment before fading into nothingness. He watched the boy depart, then raised his eyes to the castle.

  And looked directly at Jilian.

  She sucked in a breath and gripped the sill, heart pounding. Her first impulse was to back away from the window, but it was too late. She was trapped like a rabbit in the wolf’s jaws.

  Except I’m no rabbit.

  She leaned onto the sill, deliberately driving her gaze into his. I am not afraid of you, Alvarr.

  Mostly.

  One, two heartbeats thudded in her chest. Without changing expression, he broke their locked gaze, turned his back, and strode into the stable.

  She stalked away from the glass and dove onto the wide bed.

  Damn him! This is what I get for falling in love. I knew he was trouble.