“Did you see Derek Frontish?” Anders’s voice was neutral, asking only out of curiosity, or so he would have wanted Jackson to think for the moment. “While you were in Derbarry, I mean? I thought I heard the elder had been traveling, had, in fact, come south recently.” So Corey had found out, bringing us disturbing news only hours before, about the elder’s activities. “It might have been a misunderstanding. Alex always gets things wrong.”
Wary, though unsure what game we were playing when I elbowed my husband, Elena narrowed her eyes and studied Anders though he gave no sign he noticed anything amiss in her demeanor. Instead, she said, “I didn’t know Derek had come back south. If he visited Ardenna,” —she watched my face with care as I sipped the wine— “his trip was unannounced and informal.”
“I did not hear he had returned either.” Jackson glanced at Elena, bewildered. “If so, it would be odd for him to not let us know he was in your city. I would hope it was a misunderstanding,” he said to me, before answering Anders’s original question. “When I was in Derbarry, I heard Derek had returned to Spreebridge, but I did not see him. However, Kimmer did mention there has been recent trouble back home in our elder council.” At Jackson’s use of the word “home” Elena flinched, and I wondered whether she’d forgotten these past five years that her lover was a foreigner. Oblivious, Jackson added, “There have always been factions and squabbles, but this particular trouble seemed more serious, in her opinion, and more devastating to our people should matters get out of hand. Her son, Sloane,” Jackson went on, brushing hair from his eyes, “is a close associate of Elder Frontish, despite the vast difference in age.”
Had our moods been more light-hearted, I would have remarked about the vast difference between my young thirty and Anders’s mid-forties, and how we managed to “associate,” but Jackson was not in the right frame of mind for our banter. And if I had to be honest, neither was I just then.
“That troubles her?” I asked instead, taking off my boots to stretch my toes.
“Yes. It has been a heartache for Kimmer these past few years. And truly, Alex, because of my long-standing respect for the woman, her reaction to her son’s association with Derek makes me suspicious of the older man.” Jackson paused to sip his wine again, falling silent, lost in troubled thoughts, judging from his somber expression.
“Sloane is dead,” I said into the heavy quiet, earning a look of surprise from both listeners, though Elena’s dark eyes were expectant, “and Derek Frontish rumored to be responsible for his unnatural death.”
“How do you know this?” Jackson demanded, setting his glass aside with an abruptness that had Elena reaching for the crystal before he shattered it. “You do not even know these people, Alex. You do—”
Raising a hand to stop his urgent questions, I glanced at Anders, who nodded his agreement. “I do now, Jackson. I know them all. Anders and I, along with Maylen Stockrie, met them when we traveled north to Spreebridge, and Derbarry, in particular, for the same investigative reason you did.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Anger flared hot in Elena’s eyes as she glared first at me, and then Anders, demanding answers, suspecting we’d been up to no good once again.
Stifling a yawn to avoid provoking her even further, I asked calmly, “Must the queen’s Mage Protector report every movement, every tiny suspicion, to her monarch?”
“When the Mage Protector is sworn to protect the queen, and then leaves the kingdom and her queen unprotected, without a single, solitary word of warning, then yes.” Elena sat up straight, ready for battle, wide awake. “Damn it, Alex, yes. Absolutely.”
“Oh, well.” I sighed with more drama than was necessary, hoping to coax a smile from my friend. Finding my weak attempt unsuccessful, I admitted, “Since you’re already annoyed, I might as well get the whole mess over with.”
“Get what whole mess over with? Lords of the sea, Alex, what have you done now? What’s going on?”
Ignoring her frustrated queries, I decided to confront Jackson first and get that part of the ugly mess over with. “I’m very sorry about the fire on the dock in Derbarry.” When his eyes went wide with utter confusion, I explained, “Anders started the fire, though it was at my insistence, to test you.”
“You tested Jackson? You did— Why?” Furious now, more than frustrated, Elena looked ready to demand her guards put me in chains as her lover stood up and walked away, edging into a darker corner of the spacious parlor. “Alex, tell me. Tell me right now what’s going on or I swear, by the lords of the sea, I’ll—”
Her threat went unfinished as Jackson interrupted. “It is all quite simple, Elena. Your Mage Protector suspected me of tainting the wine weeks ago, of mixing feyweed into her glass to strip her of magic, and so be useless to you in her royal position.” Jackson’s voice rang hollow before I could answer, and I trembled inside, uncertain how this mess would end. “After all, I am a foreign mage from Spreebridge. I know how to mix the potion, as Alex watched me do five years ago for the renegade mages we captured. And do not forget,” his voice dripped with sarcasm, and I was sorry I might very well lose his friendship, “I have mage talent identical to hers.”
Elena narrowed her dark blue eyes, fury overtaking reason at the insult to her lover. “How dare you, Alex?” she hissed. “How can you sleep at night, suspecting innocent people, destroying their reputation—”
All at once, Jackson’s whole demeanor changed, and I prayed to the lords of the sea for a sign. “Her suspicions saved your throne and your life once before, even at the high cost of your friendship.” Speaking with quiet intensity to override her anger, Jackson knelt beside Elena and took her white-knuckled hand in his. “And if she had to brave your anger once more, and a hundred times more, she would, and should. Not simply because she is the queen’s sworn Mage Protector but more so because she is your trusted friend.” Jackson’s smile, when he met my gaze across the space between us, was sad, though his words were genuine.
“I didn’t want you to be guilty,” I admitted, not daring to look at Elena, who hadn’t moved an inch. “It would have broken my heart if you had been.”
“And I am glad, too, Alex, that I am innocent.”
With a resigned sigh as dramatic as mine, Elena reached over and plucked the twin pendants from beneath my tunic, the copper one she’d designed expressly for me, merging all four mage symbols into one, and the identical wooden pendant Gwynn carved five years earlier. “Even without any magic, you’re still protecting me, aren’t you?”
“Sure. I don’t want to give up my life-long supply of Marain Valley wine.” Relieved she seemed to easily forgive me, very likely because her lover in this case was innocent and easily forgave me himself, I said, “Thanks to an unlikely source, we now have connections in Derbarry. We’re not sure, but we think the attacks are part of a plan to eradicate what some Spreebridge mages, led by Derek, consider a perversion of magic.”
“Which means what?”
“Anything that’s not like Spreebridge or Glynnswood magic, where one element changes to another. That explains the attack on me and Jackson, as well as why Frontish was so pleased the three renegades lost their magic. They’re freaks, too. No offense.” I grinned at Jackson, whose smile was considerably more relaxed. “And if our theory is correct,” —I sipped my wine, feeling my throat dry, more from tension than thirst— “then all mages, with the exception of Glynnswood mages, are at risk.”
“But someone gave your father and Emmy feyweed, too. That’s what Jules wrote to me,” she admitted sheepishly, when I raised one eyebrow. “I’d known about your father, but not your poor child. Not until Jules sent word. But they share Glynnswood blood, though Emmy is a mix of Glynnswood and Tuldamoran bloodlines.”
“I think, at least in my father’s case, the feyweed had more to do with revenge for creating an oddity like me. As for Emmy—” I realized that although Jules told Elena that Emmy had been attacked, he hadn’t known everything and couldn’t reveal the enti
re truth. “My daughter is a miracle child, Elena. The little glimpse of power we saw her perform was amazing. We think her magic combines what I can do with what Anders can do. Once she regains her talent,” I forced optimism into my voice, “and then asserts control over it, Emmy will be able to manipulate all four elements within themselves and change them into each other.”
“Alex, that means—”
“She’s an entirely new breed of mage.” If she gets her talent back— Anders read my mind, and squeezed my fingers. “I don’t know if the Ardenna Crown Council of Mages are involved in all this trouble, but we’ve had word that—”
“Alex—” Jackson sank down onto the pillows again in one enviable graceful movement and refilled my glass, warning me his next words would be significant. “I think they must be innocent.”
“Why?”
“They, too, have been given feyweed.”
My mouth opened and shut without a sound emerging as I contemplated the implications, in light of what Corey discovered earlier. “What do they think? Does the Crown Council believe we’re responsible? You and me?” I asked Jackson. “Or me alone? Do they even know about you and me losing our magic?”
“They know about me,” Jackson said, “but not you. We thought it best to wait until you were back from your journey.”
“Do you think they’re telling the truth?” Anders broke his long silence, eying me as he tossed this new element into the mix. “It’s possible to disguise the loss of magic. Look how long I fooled Alex into thinking I was a mere seamage, not the Crownmage.”
“Good point,” Jackson agreed, before I could take offense, “but I recognized the look in their eyes, Anders. It was the same horror on your wife’s face, and on mine, when we drank the feyweed. No,” —he shook his head— “I do not believe they were lying.”
“Then we need to speak with them before the feyweed shipment arrives for a number of reasons.”
“Shipment? Here in Ardenna?” Elena set aside her own glass, ready to call out the guard, judging from her alarmed expression.
“No. Calm down. Port Alain. They’re smart, Elena,” I explained, smothering another yawn, “thinking to send the feyweed with the first trade shipment of gems and ores from Spreebridge, the shipment Brendan is supposed to meet.”
“Right under our unsuspecting noses.”
“Yes. But my father, who feels Glynnswood bears some responsibility whenever Spreebridge trouble erupts—”
“So that’s where you get your ridiculous sense of responsibility and guilt,” Elena teased, nudging my bare foot with her own. “I always wondered.”
“Hush. My father offered to have some of his best scouts keep watch along the Jendlan River in case the ship leaves early and catches us unawares.”
“That’s a help. I’ll send word to him and coordinate our efforts. But who told you about the shipment being smuggled into Port Alain?” Elena asked, not realizing she’d given me the perfect opportunity for an introduction to yet another sibling of mine. “Let me guess. Your new connection in Derbarry?”
“Ah, well, yes.” I couldn’t keep a grin off my face, anticipating her reaction. “Kimmer Frehan’s son, actually. Her other son,” I added, when Jackson appeared confused, knowing now that Sloane was dead.
“Corey, right? Nice young man. A schoolmaster, I understand. Kimmer’s pride and joy,” Jackson informed Elena, both of them oblivious.
“Yes, and yes, to all of that. In fact—” Biting my lip hard to avoid laughing outright, I said, “Be right back. Corey’s waiting outside, probably napping. Elena needs to meet him herself.”
“I do? Why? Not that I mind, but why?”
“You’ll see. And besides, he has some unsettling news for you about the Crown Council of Mages.” Struggling to my feet, I exchanged a bemused glance with Anders before heading out into the corridor, where Corey was bright-eyed and wide awake with nervous anxiety, looking about as old as my daughter. “Ready?”
“Alex, I have never met a queen. Shall I bow? Kneel? Prostrate myself on the ground before her?”
“None of the above. Just bow your head.”
“But—”
“Trust me. She’s not your usual monarch. Just go in there and be polite. And when she asks you questions, be honest.”
Which is exactly what Corey did. Disregarding my advice, whether from the expectation that I was teasing or fear of insulting the queen of Tuldamoran, Corey knelt before Elena, head bowed low, but not before she caught a good long look at his features. One eye on me, she placed a hand under his smooth-shaven chin and raised his handsome face for a better view. Blue eyes darted between our faces, comparing notes, until one black eyebrow inched skyward in anticipation.
“Alex?”
“Hmm?”
“Is there something you want to tell me?”
“Apparently” —I coughed with exaggerated delicacy into my hand— “Elder Keltie did a bit of traveling in his youth after he became a widower.”
“Oh my.” When Corey’s fair skin blushed as acutely as Gwynn’s always did, Elena laughed in open delight, dropping her hand. “Welcome to Ardenna, Master Frehan. Tell me, are there any more Kelties around?”
“No, your majesty. I—”
“You need to be at ease and relax. Jackson, a glass of wine might help Corey get comfortable.” Elena sank back onto the cushions, her smile impish. “Honestly, Alex, you’re always bringing surprises. Now, then—” She urged my poor nervous brother to taste the wine. “Alex said you had some disturbing news about the Crown Council of Mages. What exactly is going on?”
When Corey glanced at me, ostensibly for permission to speak, I smiled encouragement. “She won’t bite, I promise. She saves her irritation for me.”
Dazed by the informality and irreverence, Corey took another sip and then set the glass aside on the low table beside him. “I came to Ardenna to find out why Elder Frontish was traveling to your city in secret,” he explained, oblivious to the silent exchange between Jackson and me. “We have a—” Corey’s face grew heated as he paused. “Your majesty, I mean no disrespect, I assure you, but there have been, ah, visitors to your city who have been keeping watch to be sure that certain Spreebridge individuals, like Elder Frontish, do no harm to your people.”
Elena met my gaze, an impish twinkle in her eyes as she studied my brother’s face. “You have spies in my city?”
“That’s such an ugly word,” I murmured.
“They are not—” Corey took heart from the smile that escaped Elena’s stern expression. “Yes, they are spies, your majesty, but for a good cause.”
“Well, that’s a new angle. Go on.”
Relieved she wasn’t going to chop off his head, Corey hurried on with his news. “Derek Frontish,” at the name, Corey’s voice grew steadier, “came here unannounced a week ago to meet in secret with the Ardenna Crown Council of Mages.”
Elena leaned forward. “You know this for certain?”
“Yes, your majesty. He was seen meeting with them by one of our, ah, spies. One other point we have confirmed is significant. Derek was traveling with another man, though his identity is unknown. When they arrived in Ardenna, they split up, and the other man vanished into the crowd during a street fair. We do not know where he went. I am sorry, because I do not know what trouble they are brewing in Tuldamoran.”
“It could mean several things,” I said, thinking out loud. “Derek might have wanted to persuade the Crown Council of Mages to join his little party because he knows they’re not very thrilled with me or Jackson, simply because our magic, when it existed, threatened them. Or he may very well have told them a tall tale, wanting only to slip them feyweed and have them suspicious of me and Jackson. As for his companion, it’s possible he was making other contacts here.” Unable to stifle the next yawn, I shrugged. “Sorry. I don’t know. And it’s too late to think clearly.” I grabbed my boots and held them in my hand, prepared to walk barefoot through the corridors. “So, your majesty
, if you don’t mind, I’d love a nice soft bed. Nothing fancy, just plain, clean, and comfortable.”
“You’ll actually stay in Ardenna overnight? Willingly?”
“Sure, but it’ll cost you.”
* * * *
Snuggled like a newborn piglet beside Anders in a lush guest chamber down the corridor from the royal apartment, I yawned and slipped deeper into the warm blankets, prepared to sleep like the dead. But the queen, as I might have expected, had other ideas, judging from the loud persistent knocking that wouldn’t go away.
“It’s always your fault, Alex,” Anders grumbled as he threw back the blankets in disgust and grabbed the silk robes her majesty’s servants left for us. He put one on, and tossed the other to me. “First you upset Elena, and then she can’t sleep.”
“Not my fault this time. I had no choice about Jackson.” Belting the scarlet robe around my waist, I sat cross-legged on the bed, rubbing my eyes to stay awake, as Anders went to open the door.
As expected, Elena stood in the doorway, contrite. “Sorry, Anders.”
“No, you’re not, your majesty. I’ve had four years of uninterrupted sleep, with the exception of my wife’s snoring, and now, I see, we’re back to your old tricks.” Anders stepped aside to let her in, arms folded across his chest in mock annoyance.
“Only because Emmy isn’t here. I’d never risk waking that angelic child.”
“Don’t believe her,” I warned Anders, who decided to sit at the far end of the huge bed. “After the chat we had in Rosanna’s garden some weeks ago, when Elena made absolutely no sense, I figured she’d come to her senses sooner or later,” I said, delighted to twist the facts around and further upset my friend. “We always talk better at night. Have a seat, your majesty.” With a chagrined smile, Elena sank into a velvet armchair, and I started the conversation, catching her off guard. “I’m sorry about Jackson, about investigating him.”
“If Jackson had been guilty, and you’d done nothing—”
“Doesn’t matter. I’m still sorry.”
Mage Evolution (Book 3) Page 12
