“Completely unfounded accusations, Alex. I’ll see they’re both properly chastened.” Rosanna accompanied her dry response with a sly glance at my traitorous husband. “After all, I did raise my son and daughter to have better manners. You, too, for that matter, which brings me to a point I’ve been pondering for a very long time. I’ve come to a definite conclusion over the years.”
“I can’t wait to hear it.”
Rosanna’s grin was eloquent and, beyond that, wicked. “Well, the point is this. I believe that it must be, in fact, has to be, your influence that makes my usually well-behaved children misbehave.”
“You can’t possibly be that blind. It’s their influence on me.”
“Hmm. Somehow, I don’t think so.”
We were tarrying in Rosanna’s parlor some evenings later after the rest of the noisy clan left us in peace to put the children to bed. I shifted Emmy in my lap where she lay peaceful and asleep, curled like a well-fed, contented kitten. Brushing a wayward curl from her face, I sighed deeply, my thoughts wandering far from the bantering with Rosanna.
“We won’t be gone for long,” Anders responded to my sigh.
“I know. I just hate leaving Emmy behind again.” I smiled at his attempt to make me feel better. Glancing at Rosanna, I added, “Not that I’m worried for her safety, mind you. They’ve already damaged the poor child. It’s a selfish reason. I’ll miss her.”
“And she’ll miss you, too. Both of you. So be sure to return as soon as you can.” Rosanna squeezed my arm, offering comfort where I could find none. “Now tell me. If Gwynn comes here to Port Alain, with or without Maylen, what should I tell him?”
Emmy stirred in my arms and turned her head, settling herself against my stomach. “If Gwynn doesn’t come here in the next few days, I don’t think he will. Maylen knows we’re to meet Corey in Ardenna. But, listen, if he does—” I looked at Anders, uncertain what to say as my daughter murmured something I couldn’t understand, whimpering in her sleep. Had the poor child been caught in nightmares, as I had been?
“Tell Gwynn to return to Glynnswood until we send word.” Anders’s voice was a soothing and confident counterpoint to my uncertainty. “Make sense?”
I shrugged, unable to think clearly. “I suppose. I just wish he hadn’t run off like that. It’s not like him, and—”
Soft, persistent knocking at the chamber door cut into my words.
“I’ll see who it is,” Anders muttered under his breath as he struggled to his feet. “It can’t be Elena. It’s not late enough, and we’re not in bed, though she no longer visits in the middle of the night, nor does Jules. I never thought to admit it,” he tossed over his shoulder, “but I really do miss those uncivilized visits.”
I grinned, turning toward the door, just as Anders poked his head out, muttered something sharply, shook his head, and shut the door. “Anders? Who is it?”
My husband opened the oak door again, with infinite slowness, and stood in the doorway, arms folded across his chest, blocking my view of our visitors. “We were just saying nasty things about you.”
“Gwynn?” I scrambled to my feet as Rosanna pulled Emmy from my arms, tucking my daughter onto her own lap, whispering sweet words at the abrupt movement that disturbed the child’s sleep further.
“Yes, Alex, it’s your brother.” Anders’s voice was flat, which made me immediately suspicious.
Not sure what to expect, I peered around Anders’s broad shoulders at the trio that stood in the hallway, awkward as newborn ponies. Maylen, with an exquisite bland look on her pretty face, stood beside Gwynn, as always. But it was the third person, Corey Frehan, who had a hundred thousand emotions flashing across his face as he stood quietly on the other side of my brother.
“Lords of the sea,” Rosanna snapped in exasperation, lowering her voice to avoid waking Emmy. “Are you this inept in your own cottage, Alex? And Anders, really, I might expect this rude behavior from your wife, but you? Have either of you no manners? Let them inside, will you?”
Chastened, Anders stepped backward, right onto my toes. Wincing from the pain, I smacked him on the shoulder, losing my balance. Gwynn caught me as I fell, looking very uncertain and very young.
“Fool.” I hugged Gwynn hard. “If you ever do something that stupid again—”
“You mean, almost let you fall?”
Stepping back to take a good look at my brother, worried at the obvious sleeplessness in his eyes and the shadows beneath them, I punched his shoulder hard. “You know what I mean. And another thing, remember those times you said when I was angry, you were afraid I’d leave?” My words rushed out in a torrent, most of the things I’d planned to say drummed out of my head by the sheer relief in seeing him in one piece. “How did you think I felt when you were gone?”
“But I’d failed you,” he whispered, looking miserable. “Alex—”
“I failed Emmy. It was my decision not to send her elsewhere, which Anders respected and trusted. My fault, not yours,” I scolded, shaking him hard.
In answer, Gwynn hugged me to his chest, relieved, right before flashing me that all-too-innocent Anders’s look. Stepping aside, he let the other two come into Rosanna’s parlor, a feline smile on Maylen’s face.
Corey, here with Gwynn. Lords of the sea, now what?
“Rosanna, ah, Lady Barlow.” I avoided meeting not only her eyes, but Corey’s, as well. “This is Corey Frehan of Spreebridge—”
“Your half-brother, Alex.”
Ah, well. I turned slowly at Corey’s words, eying his face with great care, then Gwynn, who was grinning like an idiot, and then finally Maylen.
Tossing a blonde braid over one shoulder, as though dismissing both of my half-brothers, she said with a hint of smugness, “I did not tell anyone anything, Alex. Corey came south to Glynnswood on his own.”
I spun around to face Corey. “At least you had the decency not to make your statement when I had a glass of wine near my lips.”
“Mother warned me you had a, um, tendency to choke.” All of a sudden, Corey lost his composure under my fierce glare, flushing hotly from the top of his head to his tunic collar, his voice a trifle shaky. “Are you angry?”
“That I didn’t choke again?”
Flustered, he turned to Gwynn, who patted him on the back. “She can be very difficult at times. You will get used to her.”
Insulted, I shoved Gwynn away from Corey. “Leave him alone.” With another fierce look at my new brother from Spreebridge, I added, “And don’t you believe a word that fool says. Gwynn has absolutely no credibility.”
Corey nodded hastily, new to our family dynamic. “But, well—” When I gestured him to go on, his expression turned somber. “I must know, Alex. Are you angry Mother told me the truth about you and Gwynn and father?”
Lords of the sea, save me from moronic younger half-brothers. Gwynn had asked the very same thing of me, more than five years ago. I turned to Rosanna, one hand planted on my hip. “Why are all the men in my life complete fools?” Before she could offer an acceptable answer, I tapped Corey on the chest. “Of course not. I wanted your mother to tell you the truth because I thought you had a right to know.” I paused for a breath, a little shaky myself. “The question should really be whether you’re angry.”
“No.” His expression revealed an odd mixture of emotions. “No, she told me about Father and you, and, well, what happened when you discovered he was still alive.” Corey flushed again, embarrassed. “No, Alex. I do understand.”
“But I don’t.” Puzzled, I scratched my head, searching Corey’s face for the answers. “What prompted your mother to tell you? She was adamant when we left Derbarry that you not know the truth.”
Corey’s expression abruptly changed. “Sloane is dead.”
“Ah, no.” Sensing his grief, I gripped Corey’s shoulders tight, wanting to hug him, not sure it would be welcome. “I’m so sorry.”
Corey shook his head in resignation. “I knew it would come to t
his sad end, sooner or later, Alex. So did Mother. But still, we hoped.”
“Come sit down.” I pulled him toward the armchair opposite Rosanna, though he paused before sitting to peer shyly at my daughter.
“This is Emila?” Corey turned questioning eyes over his shoulder. When I nodded, he touched her curls with affection. “She is as beautiful as Gwynn said she would be.”
“Just what she needs, another uncle to spoil her,” I muttered to no one in particular as I plopped down at Rosanna’s knees, ignoring her bemused expression.
Corey exchanged a shy smile with Gwynn, and then sat down as Anders poured cinnamon tea all around. Maylen and Gwynn, removing their cloaks, joined us, side-by-side in front of the fireplace, as though they’d never been parted.
“Tell us what happened.”
“We have no proof, Alex, but I hold Derek Frontish responsible for Sloane’s death. I think, and so does Mother, that Sloane was creeping too close to whatever trouble Elder Frontish has been brewing here in Tuldamoran.” Corey paused to take a cautious sip of the hot tea, nodding his thanks at Anders. “The last time I saw my brother alive, Sloane told me large crates of feyweed were being sent in secret with the first trade shipments of gems and ore on the Stoutheart’s maiden voyage down river. They’ll be coming here, down the Jendlan River, across Shad’s Bay—”
“To Port Alain.” Thinking, I stretched out my legs and settled back against Rosanna’s chair. “On a ship called the Stoutheart.”
“That is why mother sent me south. And because of Sloane, truly.” His expression turned mischievous. “And to, um, meet my father.”
“What was his reaction to you?”
“He has not yet seen me or even knows of my existence.”
“Hold on. I’m now completely confused. If you’re traveling with Maylen and Gwynn, then how—”
“We met along the road,” Maylen explained, leaning into Gwynn’s shoulder. “It was quite a coincidence, if one believes in such things.”
“Knowing the Kelties, well, knowing Sernyn and Gwynn Keltie, since I hold Anessa innocent, I no longer believe in coincidence,” I grumbled, turning to Corey as a wicked thought entered my head. “Well, good, I’m glad he doesn’t know about you yet, because I want to be there when the two of you meet. That man swore he had no other children.”
“He didn’t know,” Rosanna hotly defended my father, “and besides, Alex, vengeance is not something you should be after.”
“Normally, I’d agree with you, but when my father is involved, all the rules change.” As a companionable silence fell, with Anders acting as host and serving the trio cheese and sausage bread, I started thinking about the implications. “Why bring the feyweed to Port Alain? Why not smuggle it across the border by land?”
Maylen met Anders’s eyes, the two of them smiling.
“I admit Lunatics’ Crossing isn’t the friendliest route, but it’s more isolated. Unless they’re just arrogant and plan to ship the feyweed right under our noses, while the royal heir welcomes them with open arms.”
“That’s my guess,” Anders said, handing me a wedge of cheese.
“Well, esteemed Crownmage, since you agree, will Port Alain be a central distribution point? Will they then travel along Shad’s Bay to the mouth of the Kieren River, and sail north to Ardenna?” Frustrated with the tidbit of information that told us nothing, I added, “And why? What’s their objective?”
“The one point Derek and my brother disagreed on was mage talent. Sloane craved power and was desperate to be a mage, any kind of mage. Unfortunately, for my poor brother, Sloane never had a glimmer of talent.” Corey shot me a sorrowful look. “That is one of the reasons Sloane was never completely comfortable with me. I have the magic he always desired. And although Derek is a mage, Sloane could tolerate the fact because the elder offered him the opportunity to become involved in the plot he was planning to unleash.”
“My, my.” I laughed, able at the moment to think of my father’s unused magic without bitterness for the price my mother paid in childhood. “Imagine my father’s horror at having three mage children? I definitely want to be in Glynnswood when you tell him about yourself. What tricks can you do?”
Corey’s face turned scarlet. “The opposite of Gwynn. Fire to earth.”
“My, my.”
“Alex.” Rosanna tugged sharply at a strand of my hair. “Leave him alone.”
In response, I waved a hand in dismissal. “I forgot to warn you, Corey, about Lady Barlow. But what was it about magic,” I asked him, serious again, “did Sloane and Derek disagree about?”
“Elder Frontish, along with some other of his cronies, think it a perversion of pure mage talent to have any type of power that differed from the Spreebridge kind, which is essentially what Glynnswood mages share. We can change one element to another, and that is all. Until, that is, Jackson Tunney came along, and then you, Alex, who share Glynnswood blood.” Corey glanced down at his hands, rubbing them as though they were chilled. “I think there is fear that another mage like you will happen again, so they wish to prevent the possibility. The fear is simple ignorance, fear of the unknown, fear that someone more powerful will come along and destroy whatever power they hold.”
“So the trade agreement is a cover?” I asked, thinking out loud.
“Might be. Corey’s theory explains the attack on Jackson. He’s an oddity like you,” Anders said thoughtfully. “Don’t you think?”
I shook my head, not certain whether or not to be insulted by his choice of words. “It explains the attack on Emmy, too,” I said, “but not my father. And what about our own mages here in Tuldamoran? Seamages, firemages, windmages, and earthmages? Their talent is a perversion, too, if you accept what Corey is saying. After all, although they can only wield magic within one element, it still differs from Spreebridge magic.” Angry and frightened at the implications, I scratched my head with vigor, trying to clear away the cobwebs in my mind. “What gives them the right to come south and judge utter strangers who have done them no harm?”
“Narrow-minded fanatics, Alex, believe they have the right to mold the world into their own image of what is right and wrong. If that is their purpose, to judge Tuldamoran mages, it might explain the large shipments,” Maylen added, eyes half-closed as she nestled against Gwynn.
“Possible. Why else send crates when only a small pinch would be enough to attack the rest of my family,” —I shot a glance at both brothers, both mages— “and possibly your granddaughter,” I warned Rosanna, whose face paled at the thought of Linsey and the child’s latent magic, the product of a renegade Spreebridge mage and her seamage mother, “particularly if they know what happened to Khrista in Edgecliff?”
“Hold on, Alex. What about the Crown Council of Mages in Ardenna?” Anders turned Rosanna’s attention and worry away from her granddaughter. “You humbled the old Crown Council by defeating Charlton Ravess in the Mage Challenge and then exposing him to Elena when he returned from exile.”
“Yes, but the present Crown Council is new, handpicked by Elena with Jules’s help. The others have been removed from office.”
“True,” Anders agreed, though I felt I was missing his point, “but you defeated them all symbolically. Do you think any of them have any real affection for you? Especially when you consider your mother’s well-known disregard for all Mage Councils. The Crown Council in Ardenna, including the local council here in Port Alain, may respect your position as Mage Protector, and hold their peace, but only because Elena demands it. I don’t know. Maybe they’re involved.” He shrugged, looking as tired as I felt. “Maybe they’re not. But who’s to say that on Derek’s upcoming visit to Ardenna there won’t be any secret meetings with Elena’s Crown Council?”
“Hmm. Then what about Jackson?” I asked, not sure that I was sure about anything anymore.
Rosanna gave me a crooked smile. “Jackson is wedged even closer to Elena than you are, in a different way. Were she to marry him, Elena would have
all three of you locked inside her circle. You, Alex, as Mage Protector, Anders as Crownmage, and Jackson, with talent identical to yours.”
“Elena doesn’t have Jackson’s magic or mine anymore.” It was difficult to keep bitterness from my voice, as I hugged my knees close and rested my chin on top of them, lost in self-pity that had crept in unawares.
A yank on my hair was accompanied by, “You’re feeling sorry for yourself.”
When I didn’t bother to answer, Corey offered tentatively, “Sloane believed there was a way to reverse the damage feyweed causes. There is still a chance, Alex.”
I studied my new-found brother, neither denying nor affirming his words. Another yank on my hair prompted a growl from me. I reached back to grab Rosanna’s hand and found myself clutching a tiny one instead. Emmy’s wide-eyed face peeked at me. I tapped her on the nose, as she fell laughing into my arms.
“Uncle Gwynn!” Nearly head over heels, the imp scampered out of my lap and into Gwynn’s outstretched arms, hugging Maylen next.
Corey watched shyly until she turned those huge seagray eyes on him.
“Emmy?” When she turned to me, one eye still on Corey, I explained, “That’s your Uncle Corey. We found him when we went away on our journey.”
Emmy turned her full somber attention to me. “Was he lost?”
Lords of the sea. I started to laugh, as Corey reddened. “Yes. I guess he was.”
Emmy squirmed out of Gwynn’s sheltering arms and into Corey’s, who looked bewildered when she wrapped her tiny arms around his neck and hugged him. “I’m so glad Mama and Papa found you.”
Rosanna sighed. “She can’t possibly be your child.”
Chapter Ten
“But how can you be leaving?” Lauryn demanded to my rigid back as I stood motionless, staring out the window overlooking her mother-in-law’s gardens, most of which had burst into full colorful bloom. “You’ve only just arrived.”
“It’s important,” Anders answered for me, seeking to placate my concerned friend. “Alex and Jackson have both lost their magic. We have—”
Mage Evolution (Book 3) Page 10
