Mage Evolution (Book 3)

by Virginia G. McMorrow

  “Yes, I know,” Lauryn, without her usual polite and patient manner, interrupted my husband. “But you’ve both—”

  “Emmy has lost her magic, too.” I spun on my boot heels to meet Lauryn’s shocked blue eyes. “As has my father.”

  Caught off guard, her face ashen, Lauryn turned to Jules, who shrugged helplessly, not having known about the latter two victims. When her sister-in-law, Khrista, glanced at her own husband, Kerrie, the steward of the Barlow manor, I wondered whether Khrista was thinking about her own child.

  She would, soon enough.

  “I don’t want to go away again so soon,” I admitted, “especially because I have to leave Emmy behind. I’ve been doing that all too often, but we have some ideas about who might be responsible. Khrista—” Meeting her eyes, the fear was evident. “You need to watch Linsey very carefully. We’re not sure whether the assailants are after me and my family, or anyone with special and different mage talent. Since we’re not certain what Linsey can do and we don’t know who knows about her lineage,” —I stepped with care on delicate ground— “keep her near you and safe from strangers.”

  Kerrie, lords of the sea bless the man, loved and treated Linsey as his own child. So it didn’t surprise me that it was Kerrie, rather than his wife, who answered. “I’ll alert Chester, down at the Seaman’s Berth, to be on the lookout for strangers. Anything I should tell him?”

  “Only this,” Anders said, offering a tentative smile to ease Khrista’s fears. “There’s to be a shipment of trade goods from Spreebridge, the first one between our lands, due to arrive in a few weeks. The ship’s name is the Stoutheart. If it docks earlier than scheduled, before we’ve returned, send word to Ardenna immediately. And alert Jules, too.” Nodding at the duke, who had started pacing the length of the parlor, much like Elena when she was thinking, Anders touched his sleeve when he passed by. “Jules?”

  “Yes, of course.” Running weathered fingers through his disheveled brown hair, Jules added, “In fact, I’ll have some of my troops unobtrusively keep an eye on the docks and the roads coming into Port Alain. What’s coming on the ship besides the gems and the ore?”

  “Feyweed.” At my quiet but emphatic word, they all stared at me. “We need to find out who’s targeted and how. That’s why I have to leave. There are a few important stops we have to make before coming back to Port Alain,” I apologized to Lauryn, who looked forlorn. “I need to visit Glynnswood, and then Ardenna.”

  “Glynnswood again? You were just there. Alex, is your father all right?”

  “He—” I stopped, remembering that none of them knew we’d really gone to Spreebridge rather than Glynnswood, nor did they know about Corey, and started to laugh. “At the moment, yes. Though when I arrive with my escort, he might not be.”

  “Alex—” There was definite scolding in my husband’s voice, which I chose, as usual, to ignore.

  “But why?” Honestly curious, Lauryn pursued the subject. “Who’s going with you as escort? Anders, I presume. Maylen and Gwynn? Yes, all right, of course, they’re going, and that polite young man, Corey, is it? The one from Spreebridge who was sitting in the garden this morning?”

  I hadn’t known that Lauryn had seen my brother. Tongue in cheek, I asked, “Did you take a good look at that polite young man?”

  “I only got a glimpse of him, Alex.” Lauryn narrowed her eyes, most likely seeing the young man in her mind’s eye. “He seemed a little familiar, but I couldn’t quite figure out why.” When I started to leave the room without another word, a smug grin on my face, Lauryn grabbed a fistful of my tunic sleeve and shook my arm in annoyance. “You’re not going anywhere, Alex Keltie, not until you tell us what’s going on. Who is he?”

  “Unbeknownst to my father,” —the smile escaped— “Corey Frehan is my, uh, slightly younger half-brother.”

  “Half— Oh, Alex.” Lauryn gasped, shaking her head as the image of Corey’s face probably popped back into her head. “Your father will be—” Lauryn blinked. “What will he be? How do you think he’ll react?”

  “Gwynn and I figure he’ll be terrified of me. After all, I’m the beast in the family. So poor Sernyn will expect me to be angry. But I’m not,” I reassured Lauryn, as she instinctively searched my face for truth. “My only problem with Corey is that he’s as annoyingly polite as Gwynn. Well, as polite as Gwynn used to be until he started hanging around with my nuisance husband.”

  Lauryn leaned forward to hug me close. “You know, Alex, for someone who didn’t think they had blood family only a few years ago, you have to admit the Keltie house is getting a little crowded.”

  * * * *

  The precise moment my stepmother, Anessa, caught sight of Corey’s face, she knew the truth. As we entered their warm and welcoming home, the noise was deafening, with embraces all around at our surprise return. Stepping back from Anessa’s hug, I leaned against the cottage wall, arms crossed, watching as she studied Corey’s face. Her shoulders abruptly tensed as she slid a furtive glance first at her own son and then her husband, and finally me. Anessa’s eyes widened in guilt as she caught me staring at her. When a tiny smile tugged at my lips, her whole slender body visibly relaxed.

  Lords of the sea, was I really that much a beast?

  When my father turned to find Corey Frehan waiting patiently at the back of the crowd, he offered a hand, an affectionate smile on his face. “You must be Kimmer’s son. You have a look about you that reminds me of her face.” When Corey slanted me a sidewise glance that seemed to make my father cautious, Sernyn was perplexed. “Have I offended you? Have I said something out of turn? If I have, then—”

  “No. No, of course not. Elder Keltie—” The young man flushed bright crimson, looked to me for rescue. “Alex—”

  Poor fool. I took pity. “Elder Keltie,” anticipating this moment, I pushed away from the wall and bowed in a mockery of court formality, “may I present the son of Kimmer Frehan and” —I bit my lip hard to keep laughter from bursting out— “yourself.”

  “My— What are you saying? Alex, it— That Corey—” My father couldn’t quite get the words out. For a moment, I thought he would faint.

  “Oh, and by the way,” I responded without directly responding to his unspoken query, “he’s a mage, too.” With that, I turned on my heel and went outside.

  * * * *

  Anessa found me a little while later, sitting against an oak, or maple, or elm, maybe, not that I cared, except it was huge and offered perfect shade, enough for a lazy nap on a cool spring afternoon. She sat beside me, not waiting for an invitation, her slender legs, encased in soft leather, crossed beneath her. In the last five years since she and I had become friends, the gray had become more visible in the long, thick brown hair that hung below her shoulders. An attractive and openly affectionate woman, Anessa was a wonderful stepmother, as caring of me, the orphan child, in her own way, as Rosanna was in hers.

  “When you left the cottage, I was not certain if you had changed your mind.”

  “Changed my mind?” I hugged my knees close to my chest, puzzled, still half drowsy. “About what?”

  “When you first arrived, I had the distinct impression you found my husband’s predicament,” she stressed the word, one eyebrow raised, “well, humorous, since he had been so adamant about not having any other children.”

  “I did, and do.”

  “Ah. But then you left—”

  “Yes, I did, didn’t I?” Thinking back on my departure, I laughed. “Two reasons and only one respectable. The first is I wanted the two of them to have time alone, to get acquainted. The other—” I rested my chin on my hands, wondering if she would guess.

  “To make your father think you were angry, even though you are not.” When I grinned, not the least bit guilty, Anessa shoved me sideways onto the lush grass. “Alexandra Daine Keltie, you are a terrible, terrible child.”

  “No, she is not,” a male voice drifted across the clearing. “But I am a terrible, terrible fath
er.” Sernyn offered a hand to help me sit back up, kneeling beside his wife. “Alex, I honestly did not know Kimmer had borne my child.”

  “Didn’t anyone ever teach you the facts of life?”

  Dark brown eyes stared soulfully at me for a heartbeat before he released his breath in a huge sigh. “Anessa is right. You are a terrible, terrible child, but I count myself blessed to be plagued by you.” His smile was relieved as I leaned over to kiss his smooth-shaven cheek. “And I must warn you. I am afraid Corey, unlike Gwynn, has no idea what to do with you.”

  “Well, I’ll just have to straighten him out about that, won’t I?”

  * * * *

  “You mean to test Jackson again.” Not a question, but a statement of fact, from my brother, Gwynn. “Alex? Is this true?”

  “I’m convinced Jackson is telling the truth about losing his magic and,” I stressed, glaring at Gwynn, who wasn’t bothered in the least, “that he’s above suspicion, but yes, I do mean to test him again.”

  “Good.”

  Maylen elbowed him, knocking my brother from his perch on the bench beside her. “When Alex is satisfied that the queen’s lover is innocent, will you finally accept the truth and leave us all in peace and quiet?”

  “If I must.”

  “Gwynn has some of your stubbornness,” Anders said dryly before I could argue with my brother’s bull-headedness. “Commendable,” he added, “under some circumstances.”

  “Good thing you added that last point.”

  “I’m no fool, Alex.”

  “No, you’re not. In fact—”

  “Alex—” Corey tentatively broke into our banter, flushing as all eyes turned to him, including my father and Anessa. “Will the queen suspect me? I am, after all, a foreigner from Spreebridge.”

  “Ah, yes.” I slid a glance at my stepmother, who had the presence of mind to hide a smile behind a delicate cough. “But, Corey, you’re Elder Sernyn Keltie’s son. And since Anessa has graciously accepted you into her home, as well, how can you possibly come under suspicion by the queen?”

  “Alex, really—” My father’s chiding faded swiftly as I raised one eyebrow in silent challenge.

  “True or not? The fact that Corey is your son—”

  “I would hope that Elena would trust my family,” Sernyn’s own quiet challenge dared me across the space of the sunny parlor, “no matter where they live.”

  “He’s got you there.”

  “Hush.” I glared at my husband. “Corey was asking a serious question and deserves a serious answer.”

  “You didn’t give him one.”

  “I did so. In fact,” —I turned my attention to Corey and my back to Anders, so his antics wouldn’t distract me— “it’s a question that concerns me, too. I doubt Elena will have any problem with Corey, but I can’t speak for Jackson. He knew you and your mother in Derbarry,” I reminded my newest brother. “But Jackson also knew Sloane, and that may turn out to be the problem. Not you.”

  “Jackson respects my mother. I can only hope he respects me, too.”

  When Corey stared down at his hands, I wondered how difficult it had been for him growing up, to love a brother who sometimes returned that affection with hate. All my life, I’d been missing a brother or sister, and now I had two younger brothers, a father I’d finally been brave enough to welcome into my heart, and a stepmother who offered unconditional acceptance. And above all that, Anders and Emmy, the Barlows, and Elena. To say that I’d been blessed would be insufficient. The loss of my magic, considered from this perspective, was meaningless. I had to believe that, or my life would turn bitter.

  Glancing across the room at my father, I met his somber gaze and smiled, sending a message I wasn’t certain he understood. But something of my mood must have made its way into his heart, because his smile was filled with peace.

  “I think Jackson will respect you,” I reassured Corey, “though he may press you for information. Just be honest. Be yourself.” Thinking about Elena and the task before me, I admitted, “It will be hard enough for me to be honest, to admit to Jackson, in front of Elena, that even for a moment, we suspected him of treachery.”

  “You are the queen’s Mage Protector,” Anessa said, breaking her silence. “You could do nothing else. If Elena were to take a hundred lovers,” she cut off my protest before it had even formed in my mind, “you would have been within your rights to watch every one of them.” Huge brown eyes held my gaze, defying me to argue.

  I gave in, and laughed. “No wonder your men have no say in this household. All right, so Corey will come to Ardenna with Anders and me, and—”

  “Do you like him better than me?”

  “What?” I stared at Gwynn in disbelief. “Corey needs to first tail Elder Frontish and find out what he’s up to in Ardenna, and then he has to speak with both Elena and Jackson. You, on the other hand, don’t need to do either of those two things. However, I do need you elsewhere, if your parents don’t mind the peace and quiet of having you gone.”

  “Mother will miss me.” Gwynn shot Anessa a grin.

  “I will not, Alex. Please send him far, far away for many days.”

  “My pleasure, though it will only be Port Alain. And if Maylen will keep him out of trouble” —I waited for the young woman’s nod of agreement— “I’d like the two of you to give Jules a hand in keeping watch in town. I don’t doubt the skill of his troops, but there’s no sneakier people than Glynnswood folk.”

  “Have we just been insulted?” Gwynn asked our father.

  “Alex would never insult us,” Sernyn reassured him before turning to me. “Would it help to have our scouts keep watch along the river? If the ship should come downstream early, we could send word even sooner.”

  “Yes, thanks. Send word to Ardenna and Port Alain. I’m not sure where we’ll be, but wherever it is, there’s bound to be trouble.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Though I might have trusted my new-found half-brother with my own personal secrets, I had no right to trust him with Elena’s secrets. That meant taking the long way around Blane Woods and into the city of Ardenna through the main gate, rather than slip in through the tunnel like a thief. However, it certainly didn’t mean I had to wait for a civilized hour to visit my beloved queen.

  “You do not mean to wake the queen at this hour?” Corey stood blinking in the lamp-lit corridor outside Elena’s private apartments, ill-at-ease under the guard’s unsmiling expression. “Alex, it is the middle of the night and—”

  “Yes, it’s the perfect time to visit. When the queen’s Mage Protector and Crownmage,” I said for the benefit of the stern guard, “arrive at this time of night, it means we have important business to discuss that cannot wait one tiniest moment, even if it means disturbing the queen’s restful sleep.”

  “Have pity,” Anders scolded, as he handed the guard a bottle of Marain Valley wine with which to bribe the queen, along with a second bottle for his personal consumption when he went off duty. “It might be a good idea for Corey to wait outside for a little while until we set things straight with Elena.” When the guard disappeared into the suite, without argument, as well-used to us as we were to him by now, and Corey visibly relaxed, my husband sent my poor, bewildered brother on his way to a padded bench in the corner. “Take a nap, my lad. We may be a while.”

  The guard returned waving us inside with a bemused shake of the head and then took up his position outside the huge double doors. Inside, Elena and Jackson were both up and waiting, matching silk robes neatly tied at the waist, the bottle of wine cradled in Jackson’s arm. A cloud of sorrow hung over them both, and I could only sympathize with the loss Jackson was feeling, the same loss that had yet to leave me in peace.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said to the Spreebridge mage, wishing I could erase the pain from his indecent green eyes and make him laugh. “I know just how horrible it feels.”

  Jackson’s nod was grateful, before he went, without companionable urging, to open the
bottle of wine.

  “I heard from my spies you and Anders left Port Alain for a time.” Not bothering to stifle a yawn, Elena sprawled like a cat among a pile of fluffy pillows, eyes studying the emotion, or lack of it, on my face. “But not where.”

  “Or why?”

  “I assumed it was because you’d been so—” A smile tugged at her lips, though her intended teasing word changed, whether from consideration for her lover or my own grief, or both, I wasn’t sure. “They said—”

  “They? Who have you commandeered into your spy corps this time?”

  “Jules. Rosanna.”

  Although Elena didn’t include Jules’s wife in that well-meaning group, I was convinced Lauryn snuck in a word or two, as well. “They said what, precisely?”

  Unsure whether or not I was searching for an argument, Elena chose her words with care. “That you’d been very unhappy since my last visit.”

  “Yes, well, I was, and still am.” Not volunteering anything more, not yet, I plopped onto the decadent lush carpet across from my friend’s reclining body. Like Rosanna, Elena always had plenty of soft pillows scattered on the rug for her friends who preferred to stretch out on the ground.

  “I was away, too,” Jackson said, handing out glasses of wine, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I went north to Spreebridge.” When neither Anders nor I gave away our knowledge, in fact, didn’t even dare glance at each other, but nodded encouragement, he went on. “I wished to find out what I could about the attack on you and me, Alex. I went to Derbarry to see Westin Harlowe, my mentor, and then to Kimmer Frehan, both elders, both people in whom I have had, and still do, a great deal of trust. I do not know Kimmer as well as Westin, but her reputation among my people has always been impeccable. But they could tell me nothing more than that they would investigate the matter, and that—” He sighed. “That they did not know of any antidote to counteract feyweed. Though Kimmer, perhaps seeking to keep up my spirit, told me she had heard rumors of such—” Jackson’s voice trailed off, as he sipped absently at the fruity wine.