That drew the attention of the others, and the next instant Kern had elbowed Philip out of the way and was at her side. “Maren, what’s wrong?” He took her hands and the pain began to ebb away.
She closed her eyes and breathed.
“Maren?” A soft hand smoothed her hair. Adare.
She forced her eyes back open and wished she wouldn’t have. Adare’s face was masked in heartache. Even more disturbing was the fear in her eyes.
“We need to get her to her room.” Kern bent to pick her up but Daric was there first.
His arms slid around her. “It’s going to be all right, Maren.” He didn’t believe it. Not after how she’d been the past few weeks.
His arms tightened, and she had the sudden impression that he was afraid to let her go, that if he did, she might not survive. She choked on a sob, and Adare reached over and grabbed her hand.
“Daric and I will do everything we can. We’re not going to lose you.”
Which she knew wasn’t true. Daric and Adare knew it too. So did Kern. He was keeping her from death just long enough to use her for his own plans. And Philip…
She glanced around her but couldn’t see him anywhere in the small procession. She looked back over Daric’s shoulder. Philip stood there holding her cloak. His eyes were glazed and moist and glued to her. And his face was creased with…she didn’t exactly know. It was more than worry, as if his entire world was on the verge of collapse.
Their eyes met, and she hoped he could read what at that moment she didn’t want to hide. Love.
He took a few steps forward and his hand lifted, as if he could reach out and pull her back from whatever had happened. Then it dropped back to his side and he stopped. She wanted to run to him, to tell him not to give up, to assure him that she was trying, but Kern was too close. Instead she returned Philip’s sad attempt at a smile as he watched her being carried away in the arms of the king.
* * *
Everyone but Philip stayed with her until she was doing better, but she finally pleaded a need for sleep, and Daric and Adare dragged Kern away, saying he needed to eat. She’d never been so grateful.
One question dominated her thoughts: What had caused her collapse today? She hadn’t done anything differ— No, that wasn’t exactly true. She’d used the magic inside her again, Kern’s magic. But she’d used it before and there hadn’t been any affect. Of course, both the other times, it had been minor, nothing more than self-protection. This time she’d used it to attack other people. She’d actively tapped into it. That’s what was different. That’s why she felt as if something had changed.
She hadn’t been trying. She didn’t even know how she’d done it, but she had. Maybe she could do it again.
Her heart jumped. Maybe… No, it wasn’t possible. Whatever magic Kern had left inside her wasn’t powerful enough to fight against him. She had a fraction of his magic. He had an entire lifetime of it. And she couldn’t even try using it anywhere around Kern. He’d sensed it that first time. She was sure of that.
Not to mention the fact that using it obviously took its toll.
But maybe she could find a way to control the magic inside her enough to ease her own pain until she could find a way to stop him.
Twenty-two
Maren headed for the stables, a place she often met Kern after his morning ride. Whatever had happened in the market yesterday was better, but she still needed Kern to take away the pain until she could figure out how to use his magic – which she hadn’t had the chance to do. Adare had refused to leave her side all morning.
She made it to the grand hall with only a few stops to catch her breath and grabbed her cloak. As she wrapped it around herself, however, the world started to spin. She leaned back against the wall and waited. The dizziness was fairly new, but it usually passed after a few seconds.
When she dared open her eyes again, the world was still. She took a hesitant step away from the wall, and when she didn’t fall over, headed out the main doors. The stables were a short walk to her left, and a minute later she inhaled the smell of hay and horses.
“You seem to be doing better.”
She spun around to see Philip leading his horse into the stables.
“I am, thank you. I was just waiting for Teige. But I could use some fresh air.” She tried to step around him, but her dizziness from earlier was triggered by the movement, and she grabbed the bars of a stall for support, cringing as her knees hit against the wooden door.
Philip put a hand on her arm. “Are you all right?”
Her heart hammered in her chest. They hadn’t been this close in months. “Yes.” She couldn’t even keep her voice steady. “I just lost my balance.”
Her attempt at a smile died as Philip’s hand brushed against her skin and she shivered. This was bad. Really bad. She tried to stand but only collapsed back against the door when her knees were too shaky to support her.
“Here, let me.” His hand slipped around her waist, and her entire body reacted, first going stiff and then wanting nothing more than to sink deeper into his arms. Her face burned, and she was relieved when they reached a nearby bench.
“Thank you,” she managed, unable to meet his eyes, instead focusing on a beautiful black horse in the stall across from her.
Philip walked over and ran his hand along the animal’s head. “I noticed you didn’t ride him that day we went to the lake. It was strange to see you on another horse. The two of you used to be inseparable.”
She stared at her hands, the only safe place to look right now. “His leg was injured when a cannonball hit the stables. He can’t be ridden anymore.”
Philip turned back to the horse, his eyes distant. “Do you remember the day you got him? You were fourteen and your father thought he was too big.”
“And you convinced him I could handle a big horse.”
Philip smiled. “You could handle anything.”
Silence descended and his eyes bore into hers as she shifted uncomfortably. He needed to walk away. Kern would be back any minute. Not to mention they were much too close, and her heart threatened to give her away. But Philip wasn’t moving.
“Maren?” He sat down next to her, and she folded her hands in her lap. “Yesterday, when you…” He considered his words. “When we all thought you might die, I realized something.”
She knew he was waiting for her to ask what, but she couldn’t.
He shifted closer. “I realized I’m tired of being noble and stepping aside for my friend.” He took her hand. “I need you to know that no matter what you decide, or what happens between you and Teige, I still love you. I always have. I always will.”
She forced herself not look at him, to see the sincerity in his eyes she knew she couldn’t resist.
“And I know you love me, not Teige. I saw it in your eyes.”
“Why would I be with someone I don’t love?” she countered.
“I don’t know, and no matter how hard I try to figure it out, I can’t.” The words sounded as if they were ripped from his very soul. When she didn’t respond, he took a deep breath. “I see the way you look at Teige. Whatever you feel for him, it’s not love, at least not the right kind of love. Not the kind we used to have.”
He gently lifted her chin, and no matter how hard she tried to avoid looking at him, it was impossible.
“Tell me why you’re with him,” he begged. “Is it because….because what you told me that day was the truth? Is he holding something over you?”
His soul stared into hers, and she could see all his pain laid bare. She couldn’t lie. Neither could she tell him the truth. At least with her mouth. Her eyes were another thing all together, and they must have betrayed her.
Before she even realized what he was going to do, his lips met hers. She tried to pull away, but his arms only tightened around her, and she couldn’t think straight. Nothing mattered except this one moment, knowing Philip loved her, knowing he wanted her. He pulled her even closer and threaded
his fingers into her hair, breaking through any resistance she still clung to.
For a few dangerous moments, she didn’t care about anything else. And then she heard the horses. Fear surged through her, and she pushed against Philip as hard as she could.
He stared back in shock and disbelief, but then something clicked in his eyes, and he grabbed her hands. “You are afraid.”
She tried to pull away, but he was too strong.
“Tell me what he’s doing to you.”
She shook her head and bit her lip so hard it hurt. Even if he did believe her this time, if Kern found out, he’d take her memories again, and she couldn’t bear that.
“I know you love me, Maren. I bet you’ve never kissed Teige like that.”
She pulled her hands away again as she heard someone approaching. “Please, Philip,” she begged. “Trust me. I’m dying. Let it go.”
He went so still she wondered if he was even breathing. “No,” he whispered. “I can’t.”
“You must.” Then she fled the other direction.
Twenty-three
Maren sat in her father’s study and rubbed her temples, trying to relieve the headache that was partly from the fact she hadn’t seen Kern for hours and partly from the strain of trying to access his magic.
There’d been a few times when she’d felt the magic burn inside her, and for a fraction of a second the pain was gone. Then, just as quickly, it retreated beyond her grasp, like the faded memory of a dream.
She thought of everything she knew about magic, everything she’d learned during the siege, and what was in her father’s books.
Spells.
It was the one thing she hadn’t tried. But what spell could she use? There were spells of defense, of attack, of healing, and too many other things to count.
She grabbed the closest of her father’s books and randomly opened to a page. A spell of removal stared up at her.
What could it hurt?
She began reciting the words, trying to focus on the magic in her shoulder, but nothing happened. She tried another spell. Again, nothing. And another. All with the same result.
Maybe they were the wrong spells. She thought about the three times she’d been able to use Kern’s magic and tried to find a commonality.
Protection.
From Kern. For Daric. From the people in town.
She flipped through the book again, stopping when a spell titled “General Protection” stared up at her. For a long time she just looked at it. What if it didn’t work? What if there was no hope?
Looking at it wasn’t going to give her any answers.
She memorized the spell and then closed her eyes. And began.
Almost immediately, warmth spread down her arm and her pain receded. She laughed out loud, and tried it again.
The connection to the magic didn’t fail, and neither did her joy at knowing she’d used Kern’s own magic to work against him.
She picked the book back up and headed for her favorite chair, wanting to see if there might be other protection spells she could access, when the sight in front of her stopped her cold. Philip leaned against the door frame, his eyes glued to her.
“How long have you been there?”
“Long enough.” He stepped into the room and shut the door. Then he turned the key in the lock until it clicked.
She backed away, fear and uncertainty warring within her. “What are you doing?”
“Making sure we’re not interrupted.”
Not good. Not good. He shouldn’t be here. They shouldn’t be alone. If Kern even knew they’d talked, he’d…
Philip stepped away from the door and moved towards her. She stayed where she was, keeping the sofa between them.
“You just used magic, Maren. And you are no mage. No more avoiding me. I want answers. I’m not leaving until I get them.” He moved to the right and she countered, circling the opposite direction.
“Please, don’t do this,” she whispered, eyes darting to the door, expecting Kern to walk in at any moment. “We can’t…I can’t…you don’t know…”
“Then tell me!” he yelled.
She flinched in fear of being overheard and once again checked the door.
“Except for the servants, we’re alone,” Philip said more gently. “Daric took everyone out riding. We won’t be interrupted.” He sat down and motioned for her to join him. “Why don’t you start with how you can use magic? And why you would. Don’t you know what it can do? What it has done?”
His last words came out harsher than she’d heard in a long time, as if they were wrenched from him by force.
It only made her angry. “I have no choice!” she yelled back. “It’s the only way to save—” She stopped short, realizing she should have kept her mouth shut as she watched his eyes grow wide.
For a moment, silence spread between them like a barrier. Then he sat down and put his head in his hands. “I didn’t handle that right. Can we pretend none of that was ever said? Can we start over?”
She hesitated. He might believe her now. Things were different than they were before. But Kern still held all the power. He could hurt Adare. He could control her again.
“I can’t,” she whispered, desperately hoping for him to let it go. To leave her alone. She was already miserable enough. “I can’t put you in danger.” She choked on the words. “You’re life is worth too much.”
He groaned. “And what about yours? Is it worth nothing?”
“I have no life! I’m dying!” He flinched, but she kept going. “Daric’s life, Adare’s, everyone’s, they all matter more. It doesn’t matter what happens to me as long as no one else has to die.”
He stood and paced across the room, and then he put both hands on the back of the sofa and leaned against it, his head dropping towards his chest. He looked defeated, and as much as it hurt to see him like that, she hoped she’d finally gotten through, that he’d given up.
Until he raised his eyes to hers. “You told me the truth about Teige, didn’t you? And I wouldn’t listen.”
“Philip, don’t. Please.”
“No.” He straightened, with a determined set to his jaw that didn’t bode well. “I have to know.”
For a second they just stood there, eyes locked, at an impasse. And then Philip leapt over the sofa before she even realized what he was going to do and clamped a hand around each of her arms.
“I’m not going to give up, Maren.”
“But—”
“I’m going to help you. We’re going to save Daric. And then we’re going to save you.” He ran a hand along her cheek. “My life doesn’t matter without you.”
Her breath caught, and she forced her eyes away from his.
“You’re still not going to tell me, are you?”
She shook her head, imagining herself a captive of Kern’s magic again. She could do this by herself, without getting Philip involved.
“Then let me tell you a few things. Maybe it will change your mind.” He still didn’t let go of her, though. It was like he was afraid if he did, he’d never be able to touch her again. “A few months ago, when you first told me Teige wanted to hurt Daric, I didn’t believe it. I knew Teige. He was my best friend. He helped defeat Kern. I’d never seen any evidence he was other than what he claimed.” He paused. “Until I started truly watching the two of you together.”
Maren shivered.
“At first, I thought it was all in my imagination, that I was taking what you said and letting my jealousy fill in all the blanks. But the more I watched, the more I worried. You didn’t remember things. It was almost as if you, Maren, disappeared.” He ran a hand across his face. “I still don’t understand it all, but I know Teige has something to do with it.”
He was getting too close to the truth, and she struggled to break free of his grasp, but his hands only tightened.
“And you don’t love him. When you look at him, it’s more like desperation I see in your eyes. Teige has some kind of hold
over you. I want to know what it is. What has you so terrified you can’t tell anyone?”
Her entire body sagged in defeat, and she didn’t even resist when Philip pulled her into his arms.
“It’s time to ask for help.” His hand stroked her hair and his lips brushed against her forehead. “I promise to trust you this time, no matter how hard it might be to believe. I want to know everything.”
“I’m afraid you won’t believe it,” she finally managed. “Just like you didn’t before. Just like Daric didn’t when I tried to tell him, or Adare when I tried to tell her. You’re all under some kind of spell.”
He pulled back until he could look into her eyes. “I’m not under a spell.”
He sounded so certain. “Philip, I know there’s a spell protecting Teige. No one can believe anything bad about him. No one can say anything bad about him.”
“And I know I’m not affected.”
“What does this room look like?”
He looked at her in surprise. “What?”
“Was everything repaired after the siege? Is there anything wrong?”
His eyes wandered over the room. “Not that I can tell.”
“Then you are just as blinded by the spell as everyone else.” She closed her eyes. “Because nothing has been repaired. Everything is falling apart.”
He pulled her close. “There are different kinds of spells. Some affect a person’s ability to think on their own or, like you said, believe a certain way. Other spells only affect surroundings, things that are more impersonal. I may be blinded by the second, but I can assure you I’m not affected by the first.”
“But how can you be sure?”
His entire body tensed, and for a very long time he didn’t say anything. “Because I inherited more from my father than just a physical resemblance. I have some magic.”
He said “magic” as if it was a disease. Then his face clouded over, just like it had every time she asked him about those two missing years. And she finally understood why he wouldn’t talk about them. It had something to do with magic, something he hadn’t told her.
Borrowed Magic Page 16
