He actually laughed. “I’ve placed so many protective wards around myself that there isn’t a mage alive who could put that kind of a spell on me.” His arms tightened around her. “I want you to go away. I’ll take you. I can protect you from him until this is over. And then…” He struggled to keep his voice level. “And then…”
“And then I’ll die,” she finished for him. “That’s the one thing we can’t change. But I can’t leave. I won’t let you do this alone.
“Then we have to find a way to kill him.”
She frowned. “How? Even you can’t just walk up to him and put a knife through his heart. I’m sure he has as much protection as you do.” She paused, filled with more hope than she’d felt in a long time, as another thought, one she should have already considered, hit her. “Why can’t you use your magic?”
“No!” He shook his head. “No.” This time his voice was quieter. “I don’t want to use magic. That’s what he’d do.”
“But you’re not him!”
“I can’t.” He ran a hand over his face. “I’m afraid I’ll lose myself or do something I’ll regret. I’m afraid someone else will get hurt. And I don’t even know that I could defeat him.”
She stood and paced in front of him. “What if he was distracted? What if he had to split his magic?”
Philip’s brows creased. “Maybe, but who else could distrac—” Realization hit. “No! It’s not going to be you.”
“It has to be me.” She swallowed hard. “He sensed when I used his magic before. With the right spell, he’d sense it again, and he’d be distracted enough for you to kill him. Especially since he doesn’t know how powerful you really are.”
Philip grabbed her by the arms. “No!” The anger in his eyes was frightening, but she didn’t look away. Eventually, his head fell forward, his eyes closed in acceptance.
She placed a hand against his cheek. “We have to try.”
He brushed a lock of hair behind her ear and smiled sadly. “I just wish there was another way. Killing Kern means losing you.” He leaned his forehead against hers. “I don’t know how I’m going to live without you. You’ve been part of my life for almost as long as I can remember, and I’ve loved you for most of it.”
There was nothing she could say. No words of comfort. No reassurance. Nothing.
He wiped away her tears and then bent and pressed his lips against hers, softly at first, as if she were fragile. But when her own arms went around his neck, he responded with a desperation she’d never felt before. And she knew he was accepting the inevitable. He was going to lose her after just finding her again. He pulled her closer, pouring all his fear, his love, his heartache, and his soul into hers.
* * *
Maren paced back and forth across her room. Adare was truly asleep for the first time in two days, and the Council was meeting to decide the new king. She’d wanted more than anything to attend, but she’d been refused. Only the Council and five or six men they’d specifically invited were allowed in – among those Kern and Philip. The new king would be chosen from among those in the room. They’d been closed inside their chamber for most of the morning and stayed through lunch. No one had gone in or out. And she was tired of waiting.
She sat down and put her head in her hands for a long time, focusing on breathing in and out and trying not to think about the certain outcome of the Council meeting. When she couldn’t stand it anymore, she raised her head, determined to sit outside the Council door until someone emerged and told her what was going on.
Instead she saw Philip, standing hesitantly just inside her bedroom door.
“Well?” she finally dared after a few silent moments.
He ran a hand over his face. “They asked me to be king.”
Her eyes went wide and something approaching relief surged through her – until she realized what that meant. Philip would be the next target for Kern. No matter what Kern’s plans for the future, he wasn’t going to step aside in favor of his son.
“What did you tell them?” she asked once the initial shock had worn off.
“No.”
Relief flooded through her, and she took a deep breath, fearing the answer to her next question. “Who was their second choice?”
He didn’t move. “Teige. Kern. He’s with the Council now, going over the details of the coronation. It’s to be held tomorrow.”
She sank onto the chair behind her. “Why?” she eventually asked. “Why did you refuse?”
He sat in the chair across from her and took her hands in his. “Because I’m afraid. I’m afraid of what the power will do to me. I’m afraid of being like Kern, of turning into him. And besides, I think Kern will be more off his guard if he thinks he’s gotten what he wants.”
Part of her could understand. Another part of her couldn’t. He was good. No matter what power he had, no matter who his father was, no matter what circumstances he was faced with. He wouldn’t do any of the things he feared.
“Are you angry?” he asked after a heavy silence.
She sighed. “No. But we can’t let Kern become king. We have to go through with our plan.”
He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. “I know, but he’s been a mage a lot longer than I have. He knows things I can only guess at.” He looked up at her, worry etched into every facet of his face. “Are you sure you can do it?”
She leaned her head against his shoulder. “Yes.” Even though she’d convinced Philip to let her distract Kern with the protection spell she’d found that day he’d first seen her using magic, he still didn’t like it.
“Remember, you have to keep the spell strong and don’t let him break through.”
“For how long?”
“I don’t know. Even with him directing a portion of his magic towards you, it’s not going to be easy for me to defeat him.”
“I won’t let him break through. I promise.”
She’d never told him what had happened the last time she’d used Kern’s magic to attack someone, the time when it had almost killed her. It probably would this time, especially using so much of it for so long against someone so powerful. But Philip didn’t need to know that. He just needed to do what had to be done.
“Remember, Kern will be distracted by the coronation. He’ll have thought he’s won. He won’t be expecting us to attack.”
“Especially with a room full of people who could get hurt.”
His head dropped forward. “Let’s just hope they don’t.”
Thirty-one
Philip was a dozen feet to Maren’s right, standing just behind where Kern would be in a few short minutes. She’d positioned herself so that Adare was between her and Kira, who knew that on her signal, she had to get Adare out. No matter what. So now they waited. A few whispers could be heard here and there, but for the most part everyone was silent.
Maren was so tense she couldn’t sit still, constantly shifting her position and looking over her shoulder, expecting Kern to walk through the doors at any moment. Finally, the trumpets sounded and all eyes focused on the back of the room. She used the commotion to glance once at Philip. He gave her a nervous but reassuring smile and then straightened his shoulders.
The doors swung open and Kern emerged, dressed in formal court apparel. He walked down the aisle with his head held high and a victorious glint in his eye until he stood directly in front of the throne.
Lord Berk stepped forward. “Lord Teige, you have been chosen as king. Do you accept this position?”
“Yes.”
“The coronation can begin.”
Lord Berk’s voice droned on, and time seemed to slow as Maren’s nervousness climbed. She wanted to get Adare out now, but waiting was key. If Adare left too early, there would be questions, and Kern might notice the whispers. It needed to be at the right time, when Berk listed the accomplishments of the previous king – Daric. That’s when Maren knew Adare would break down. And that would give them the perfect excuse for Kira to usher the
queen out. Unfortunately, it was also much too close to the end of the ceremony, too close to when she and Philip would begin their attack.
Finally, after what felt like eternity, Berk mentioned Daric. As predicted, Adare’s tears turned to sobs the entire room could hear. Maren nodded to Kira, who whispered something to Adare, before they both stood and moved towards the door. And then Maren heard the words that signaled it was time.
“…promise to serve, to protect, to defend, and to do everything in your power to ensure the safety of this kingdom and its people.”
Now! It was as if Philip’s voice was inside her head. She threw him one last glance, saw him nod in acknowledgement, and then focused her gaze on Kern and began muttering the protection spell under her breath.
It worked immediately. Her shoulder burned white hot and then cooled to a pleasant warmth before she’d finished the first few lines.
It took exactly that long for Kern to sense his own magic being used against him. She saw him stiffen in shock and then whirl around, oblivious to Berk’s cries or the confusion of the crowd.
Kern’s eyes scanned the room and finally fell on her. And he knew.
For one short second he just stared. Then he laughed. “You think your paltry little spell is going to stop me?”
She ignored him, instead letting her voice grow louder, focusing only on the words of the spell.
His eyes narrowed, and his magic hit her with so much power she swayed on her feet. But she didn’t stop the spell.
His face contorted with rage. “I was going to do this the easy way, where no one gets hurt, but you’ve forced my hand.”
His eyes scanned the room, and the world slow to a stop. Kira was almost to the door, pulling on Adare’s arm with all her might, but Adare wouldn’t move. She just stood there, staring at Teige. The next second screams rent the room as fire shot from Teige’s outstretched hands.
“NO!” Maren rushed forward, right into the path of Kern’s magic. Pain, as excruciating as anything she’d ever felt, hit her arm. She screamed, crumpling in a heap on the floor, all thought except pain deserting her.
“Maren!” Philip’s voice carried across the noise, and she saw him pushing through the frenzied crowd towards her. “Don’t stop. You have to—”
Kern’s magic surged into her with a force she’d never imagined possible. It threw her back against a group of overturned chairs and sucked the breath from her lungs. Blood trickled down the side of her face and she tried to climb to her feet, but every part of her was consumed with agonizing pain. Whatever Kern had done in the past had been a shadow of this. He’d only been torturing her. Now he was trying to kill her. A scream like she’d never heard ripped through the air, and on some remote level of consciousness she felt numerous eyes staring at her in horror.
She was the one screaming.
Kern pushed the pain deeper, attacking every part of her. Muscle. Bone. Heart. Lungs. And then finally, it began creeping into her brain, searching for the memories he’d taken in the past. She wanted to beg him to stop, to at least let her face her death. Because she knew she was going to die. Her body couldn’t handle the torture again.
“Maren!” Philip called again. “Use the spell! Please. Don’t give up. Do it for us.”
Even as she felt Kern’s magic stealing her last threads of consciousness, the thought of Philip pulled her back. But it wasn’t enough. She couldn’t fight against Kern’s magic, couldn’t remember what she was supposed to do, or what was happening, or even who she was.
Someone yelled in a terrifying rage that made her wrap trembling hands around her head. The voice was achingly familiar, even through the blinding pain and confusion, but she squeezed her eyes shut, terrified at something she didn’t understand. Then an explosion sent shock waves through the room and she jerked, her eyes flying open as the magic that had captured her mind lost some of its hold. Heavy smoke permeated every corner and shrouded the air in darkness.
“Maren, now!” Philip. The voice belonged to Philip.
The spell came with more effort this time, and she couldn’t find the strength to voice the words, instead repeating them in her mind. Eventually, the pressure inside her head lessened. Kern’s magic retreated. She was alive. Barely.
A quick search found Philip and Kern a dozen feet in front of her, locked in a magical battle. Black wisps of terrible power made her blood run cold. Conjured wind whipped through her hair and pulled at the edges of her dress. Philip dodged something she couldn’t see and then fell to his knees.
No! With every last bit of strength she could muster, she repeated the words of the spell over and over, desperately clinging to the one hope she had. Protection. For herself. And for Philip – the only person who could defeat Kern and put an end to this madness.
Philip regained his footing and forced something so full of fear and hate at Kern that it felt as if all the light in the world was gone. Kern’s response was equally evil. And although it was all spells and unseen horror, Maren felt fear wind around her like a chain. She clung to the spell, ignoring the sting of heat from the magical crossfire, ignoring the smell of burnt fabric – and flesh – ignoring the crash of glass as windows shattered. Instead, her eyes stayed locked on the two mages, father and son, as they battled to the death.
And she kept repeating the spell.
Darkness gathered around Philip, as if he were calling it to him, and then he threw it at Kern. For a split second, Kern faltered and the world shifted.
Time seemed to stop, and the chaos, the burning, the fear, all faded as new screams rent the air, this time of disbelief and confusion.
Kern’s spell had wavered. The castle was revealed for what it truly looked like. Crumbling walls. Cracked windows. Air filled with the smell of mildew and disrepair.
Every eye turned on Kern, haunted, accusatory, threatening. Kern backed away, the first glimpse of doubt clouding his features.
His hold on her lessoned a little more.
She sucked in a deep breath and repeated the words of the spell out loud. At first she could only manage a whisper, but then a fraction of her strength returned, and she crawled to her knees, only to see Philip and Kern locked in a fight so fierce she couldn’t look away. Confusion reigned again. People scattered at the display of power. Things she’d never imagined in her darkest nightmares swirled through the room. Flashes of terrible color flared, almost blinding her.
She forced her spell through the air, yelling with as much power as she could. It was enough to let Philip send something black and horrible towards Kern, but it bounced right off.
Kern’s laughter rang in her ears. “Did you really think you could defeat me?” Then his glance shifted to her.
Her breath caught as his magic took back a little of what it had lost, but the spell held. Philip attacked again and Kern was forced to turn his attention back to the battle.
She continued to scream the words of the spell, even after her voice went hoarse. But the more she fought, the more she allowed her emotions the escape they desired, the more strength she found. The magic inside her came alive, becoming a tangible force, calling to her.
She answered, finding each strand and reaching out for it.
The battle around her raged on. Kern’s magic pushed against her. But none of it mattered. All she thought about was the spell and the borrowed magic she’d finally found a way to control.
She gathered it some more, until she could feel it just beneath her skin. Then she closed her eyes and pushed with a power she never imagined she had.
Pain so intense she thought her chest had ripped open surged through her as the magic pulled at her body, at every part it had touched, at every part it had tortured.
She fell to her hands and knees and squeezed her eyes closed as every bit of pain, every bit of magic, she’d dealt with for so long disappeared, leaving her shaking and so weak she could barely move.
She willed her eyes open, searching for Philip. Instead, she was met with a
small ball of blue light floating just in front of her. Kern’s magic, the part that had been trapped inside her for so long. Somehow, she’d pushed it out of her body and her spell was holding it steady, a visible shield, protecting against the magic Kern was using against her. But she couldn’t keep it up much longer. She needed Philip.
He stood a few feet in front of her, blocking Kern from her view.
“Philip.”
It was barely a whisper, but he spun around, eyes widening as he saw the magic hanging in the air before her.
Her vision blurred and the spell began to falter. There was nothing to call on any longer, no more inner reserves of strength that could help.
Philip knew it too. She could see the fear and heartache in his eyes. He aimed another burst of magic at Kern and stepped in front of her. Then he brought his arms close to his body and muttered something before shoving his hands forward with so much power it pushed his magic, her borrowed magic, and Kern’s own magic right through Kern’s chest.
Kern just stood there for a second as rage contorted his features. Then a look of shock and disbelief wiped out everything else. He screamed, wrapping his hands around his stomach and staggering towards her and Philip. He managed half the distance and then collapsed into a heap on the ground.
She felt her own body hit the floor and vaguely registered the eerie glow of magic floating up and away from Kern’s remains. Then Philip’s arms were around her, cradling her against his chest.
“Maren!” he yelled. “Maren! Stay with me. I’m going to get help. I’m not going to lose you.”
She tried to open her eyes, to see his face one last time, but she couldn’t even do that. Death was claiming her. But it was all right. They’d won.
Kern was dead.
Thirty-two
There was too much yelling. She wanted to tell them all to be quiet so she could die in peace, but for some reason she couldn’t move. Even her eyelids refused to open. She tried to speak instead, only to find her throat was dry and parched. A hand brushed against her forehead, smoothing her hair.
Borrowed Magic Page 22
