Mage Evolution (Book 3)

by Virginia G. McMorrow

  “Sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  “You’re not.” Lauryn’s smile was warm, an amazing fact since her husband would always love this woman. But to her credit, Lauryn never held Elena to blame, for Elena had gently rejected Jules as anything more than a dear friend many years ago, a fact that haunted all of us. “I was just on my way into Port Alain with Khrista and Corey.”

  “Why?”

  “You don’t know?” Judging the blank look on my face, Lauryn chuckled and winked at Elena. “She doesn’t know.” When Elena tried hard to bite back a laugh, and lost control, Lauryn patted my arm. “Maybe you should sit down. The truth may be a little unnerving.”

  Intrigued, more than alarmed, I leaned one hip on the schoolroom table and crossed my arms. “I’m sitting. Now tell me what’s going on.”

  “We’re going to introduce Corey to Chester at the Seaman’s Berth.”

  “I’m surprised he hasn’t already been down there with Gwynn or my husband,” I said, trying to figure out what they were planning. “Is there a new ale on tap? Something that needs a few thirsty people to test? Maybe I should go along, too.”

  “Um, actually, no.”

  Glancing from one woman to the other, I shut my eyes. “Go on.”

  There was definite amusement in Lauryn’s voice when she explained, “The pub owner is going to introduce your brother to some of the more, um, well-endowed working girls in Port Alain.” When my eyes popped open, she broke out into giggles. “Your expression is priceless, Alex. Close your mouth.”

  I obeyed, and then pleaded, “Not Corey. Please tell me not Corey.”

  “He volunteered. I’m not lying, Alex.” Lauryn backed away, toward the door, when I stood up, looking ready to bolt from the schoolroom. “There were plenty of witnesses.”

  “But why Corey?”

  “Because of his accent.”

  “What’s his accent got to do with meeting whores?”

  “You’re not even thinking clearly.”

  “I have too many disturbing images in my brain.”

  “Well, get rid of them. Corey’s from Spreebridge and everyone in town is aware there’s a ship coming down the river with trade goods for the first time in decades.” Lauryn tried to keep her expression serious, but was having a difficult time. “And Corey said he’d convince the ladies he had some mates coming down he hadn’t seen in awhile and wanted to, um, see that they were properly and warmly welcomed to Port Alain.”

  “He can’t do it. The boy blushes like a child of ten.”

  “The boy is twenty-eight. And though he may very well blush in front of us, your new brother reassured us, in private, mind, that—Elena, for the lords’ sake, stop,” Lauryn chided, when Elena couldn’t stop laughing, “well, that he’s not, um, as innocent as you might like to believe.”

  “I’m sure he’s not, but— Oh, I can’t deal with this. Not Corey.” I covered my face with my hands and moaned. “When was all this decided?”

  “I believe it was while you were teaching your history lesson. Not very long ago, in fact. And Alex, it wasn’t decided just because you weren’t there,” Lauryn said quickly, when I narrowed my eyes in suspicion. “The topic just sort of came up and, well, Corey volunteered. So,” —she squinted out the window, stifling another giggle— “it’s getting late. I’d better be going.”

  “Lauryn—”

  “Want to come along?”

  “I want nothing to do with it.”

  “Too bad. It could be quite entertaining.”

  “Yes, well, I’m sure. You just tell that fool for me I intend to send his mother a letter and—What?” I demanded, when Lauryn starting chuckling again.

  “No offense to Kimmer Frehan, Alex,” Lauryn tossed over her shoulder as she headed for the door, safely past Elena and out of my reach, “but she did give birth to a son out of wedlock. I doubt she’d be too strict with him. No wonder she’s all for, um, easing the conservative traditions of her country folk.”

  I stared after Jules’s wife in disbelief as she vanished out the door.

  “Lauryn’s wonderful, isn’t she?” Elena shook her head, long black hair catching the early afternoon sunlight shining through the window. “Sure you don’t want to go along?”

  “Absolutely not. And don’t encourage her. She knew I didn’t know, and—”

  “Shh. Don’t be so cranky. I have something to say to you.”

  “Not you, too?”

  Elena didn’t laugh, as I’d expected, which immediately gave me cause for concern. “Yes, me, too. A few things, as a matter of fact, so be quiet for a minute and just listen.”

  “Your wish is my command, my queen.”

  “I’ll have you put in chains.”

  “I’m terrified.”

  “Alex—”

  At the somber plea in her eyes, I subsided. “Sorry. Go on. I just don’t want to be scolded again.”

  “That’s not my intention, though it’s tempting. First of all, I didn’t plan to eavesdrop just now, but the door was open, and I heard you and Lauryn discussing our plan. I want to thank you for not telling her the truth about the bridge.” Elena flushed at the memory that was uncomfortable for all of us.

  “No need to tell Lauryn, though I detest lying to her. Even Rosanna doesn’t know where I went that night.” I sighed, not sure if Elena knew this part of the recent story. “In fact, I refused to hide Emmy at the lodge weeks ago, not willing to reveal Jules’s secret, and instead sent her to Glynnswood, where I assumed she’d be safe. That’s why I feel somewhat responsible for my daughter’s loss of mage talent.”

  Elena blinked, shook her head as though to digest what I’d just revealed. “Does Jules know this?”

  “Of course not. I—”

  “Fool. Flameblasted fool, Alex. Honestly. Jules would have gladly sheltered your child there. But I’ve wondered about something. Though Jules has behaved very well these past few years, do you think he keeps the lodge secret from Lauryn because he still thinks there’s hope that some day—” Elena didn’t finish the thought, didn’t need to.

  “I’ve wondered myself, but haven’t had the courage to ask. My philosophy these days is to consider the hunting lodge in the same way I consider the tunnel from Blane Woods into your fortress. Something to keep in mind in case it’s needed. And with regards to Emmy,” —I shrugged at the irony of what I’d just admitted— “I would have only gone to the lodge by myself. But without magic, I didn’t feel capable of protecting my daughter.”

  “Jules would have wanted Anders there, too.”

  “I know. I knew it then, too, in my heart, but I couldn’t take the next step.” I recalled the conversation. “In fact, Rosanna and Anders both agreed it would have been reasonable, without knowing where I’d gone that night, but I couldn’t betray Jules.”

  “After all the grief we put you through six years ago, pushing you to uncover your mage talent, I’m humbled you feel so loyal.” Dark blue eyes studied me intently for a heartbeat. “By the way, that’s not sarcasm,” she added, as I started to speak. “Just simple honesty.”

  “And very old history. Look, just don’t tell Jules about my dilemma, all right?” When her expression turned argumentative, I stood up and grabbed her shoulders. “Promise me.”

  “Talk about pests. I should go ahead and tell Jules, just to make you feel foolish, but not guilty. Wherever Emmy would have been, they would have gotten to the poor child. No, don’t argue. I know I’m right, Alex,” she insisted, pacing as she always did when disturbed. “Anyone filled with such bottomless hatred wouldn’t stop until they were satisfied they’d accomplished their mission. If they hadn’t succeeded in Glynnswood, they’d have tried again weeks from now, wherever Emmy would be.”

  “I wish I could be so sure.”

  “You can’t be. You’re her mother. Now about the other matter,” Elena briskly changed topics as she paused to stare out the window. “I find it hard to deal with Jackson’s loss of magic. You know ho
w helpless I feel. Same as Anders does.” She started pacing again, making me dizzy. “But I find it even more difficult when it comes to you.”

  “Me?” Perplexed, I asked, “Why?”

  “Because I was the one who urged you years ago to stop denying your talent and let it emerge. If you hadn’t, you wouldn’t miss it so now.” Her eyes, deeply sad, stared at me with such regret, I reached out to stop her pacing.

  “You didn’t force me.”

  “I nagged and nagged and nagged you, Alex.”

  “Yes.” I smiled suddenly, catching her off guard. “But it was the sight of Anders using what I thought was simple seamage talent for the children at Jendlan Falls that made me jealous, made me want to rediscover whatever power I had.”

  “You never said anything.”

  “Yes, I did,” —my smile changed to a smug grin— “to Lauryn, because I was furious with you. I made that decision, Elena, to let the talent show itself if it was still there. And it was. So even though I’ve lost it now, in a different manner, I was lucky enough to have it back, if only for a few years. I’ve felt the joy, the power, and, unfortunately, the dangerous seduction of abusing it. So I’ve no regrets,” I reassured my friend. “Not for me. But I do for Emmy.”

  “I know.” Elena squeezed my arm. “But children are resilient. And she has two very strong parents for role models. So if the magic never returns, I believe Emmy will accept its loss without too much trouble.”

  “Let’s hope you’re right.”

  “Queens,” she intoned imperiously, “are always right. Anyway,” —she grinned, looking no older than my daughter— “that’s what Anders tells me.”

  “And you believed that liar?”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Alex, wait!”

  At the sound of Jackson’s entreating voice, I stopped my brisk stride up the path toward the manor and waited for him to catch up. He pulled abreast of me slightly out of breath. “You all right?”

  “Yes.” He placed a hand on his chest in mock distress. “Getting old.”

  “Getting too much energetic exercise in the dark.” I grinned, enjoying the flash of his indecent green eyes. “You’re going to have to ask the queen to give you a night off every now and then. What did you want, anyway?” I asked, before he said something that would get him into trouble.

  The grin subsided. “To see if you were all right.”

  “All things considered, I’m handling the loss of magic better than expected. No more tantrums or crying spells or foul moods. Well, no more than usual,” I added, taking his arm and leading him toward the colorful garden for more privacy. “Actually, I was wondering the same about you and” —I slid a glance at his profile— “wanted to discuss something with you in private, by which I mean, out of Elena’s hearing.”

  “Well, then,” —he quickened his pace toward the shrubs, bushes, whatever they were— “first things first. I suppose I am handling the loss as well as you. I work at hiding my grief from Elena when I can, which, as you know, is an impossible feat sometimes.” When I nodded and gestured him to a seat beside me on one of Rosanna’s stone benches, he went on. “What more can we do, anyway? Until we rid ourselves of the threat of feyweed spread throughout Tuldamoran, we cannot focus on an antidote. And so, every day, several times a day, I push the troublesome problem to the back of my mind, though it intrudes too often for comfort. Not to mention the many times I try to pull the magic from the depths of my soul, only to find emptiness, a void.”

  “I know. I do the same. Jackson—” I tangled my fingers with each other, not surprised to find his larger hands covering mine.

  “Rosanna and Elena both have warned me when you do that with your fingers, it means you are uncomfortable with whatever it is you wish to say.” His smile was kind. “So say it, Alex. By now, we are almost old friends. Or,” his tone hinted of formality, “are you acting as the queen’s Mage Protector?”

  I shook my head, choosing my words with care and purposely untangling my fingers, though my cheeks betrayed me by flushing hot. “No, Jackson, only as a close and dear friend. One of the reasons we suspected you weeks ago of being involved with this whole trouble was because you and Elena are so wild about each other, but—” Unhappy with the conversation, but knowing it to be necessary, for my peace of mind, I was relieved when Jackson found the words to complete my invasive question.

  “But why have we not wed?”

  “Well, yes.”

  “Elena and I do not speak of this situation very often, not from reluctance on her part, Alex, but mine.” Jackson’s sigh was so deep, I patted his arm instinctively. “I am from Spreebridge, a foreigner, an ambassador from my country with all that responsibility entails. To wed Elena Dunneal, tradition demands I become Prince of Tuldamoran. I do not wish that task, nor feel entitled to it.”

  Green eyes met mine, seemingly expecting judgment and disapproval. Instead, I smiled. “There’s another possible solution, you know.”

  “One Elena has proposed?”

  “One Elena doesn’t know.” I leaned closer, our heads together, catching him up in the possibility and cheering myself up at the same time. “I know what tradition demands, but Elena isn’t one to hold on to meaningless tradition. If she believes something else is possible and necessary to change tradition, without hurting her people, then she’ll do it. That’s one of the main differences between Tuldamoran and Spreebridge.”

  “True,” he said thoughtfully, chewing on his lower lip. “What has she done? Give me an example.”

  “Me.” At his blank look, I said earnestly, “She created my position of Mage Champion, and then changed the title to Mage Protector, for spite, I might add, despite the fact the Ardenna Crown Council of Mages existed. So, I figure, she could create a new position for you.”

  “But listen to what you have just said, Alex. Elena has a Mage Protector, who advises her side-by-side with the Crownmage.” Perplexed, Jackson pulled away and shrugged. “What more is necessary?”

  “A liaison between the queen and the Ardenna Crown Council of Mages.” I watched Jackson’s mouth open and shut, knowing what he would say, and beating him to it. “Anders and I operate out in the countryside, beating the bushes to find trouble and stop it. But you’d be in Ardenna. And just because you have no magic doesn’t mean she’ll let you off the hook. She’s kept me on, hasn’t she?” Before he could counter my reasoning, I chattered on, “So I’m hoping that by the end of this trouble, we’ll convince the Crown Council we can cooperate a little bit better and, to make it easier for them since they sometimes find her intimidating, you can act as liaison since you have her ear and her heart.”

  Jackson crossed his arms and eyed me in silence. “You have been thinking about this for a while now.”

  “Ever since this whole thing started, yes.”

  “It might work.”

  Delighted that I’d given him hope, I got to my feet, planted my hands on my hips, and chided the queen’s lover. “Did you think I’d propose something stupid?” He stared dumbfounded, not sure whether or not I was seriously insulted. “Come on, I’m starving.” Grabbing his arm, I was relieved when he started laughing and instead raced me to the manor gate where we simultaneously stopped dead in our tracks.

  Anders was crouched beyond the gate by a bucket of water, Corey beside him, not only explaining how he could manipulate the liquid to steam, but physically making the transformation happen. When he heard the clatter of our boots and then an abrupt silence, Anders turned his head to face us. His expressive eyes filled with remorse that Jackson and I had been unlucky enough to watch magic being performed, a simple feat compared to what we both used to be able to accomplish.

  “Anders,” I said, keeping my voice astonishingly even as I crossed my arms and stared him down, “don’t you think it makes more sense to do the reverse?”

  “What do you mean?” he asked carefully.

  “Turn steam to cold water and dump it over Corey’s head. After
all, he did go on a rather, um, provocative mission in town this afternoon that likely had his blood running hot.”

  As expected, Corey flushed beet red, and Anders smiled in relief, though I knew he knew I was putting on an act. But in truth, I had no right to ask my husband to stop practicing magic simply because I grieved for my own. That would have been an ironic twist to what my father had asked of my mother.

  “Oh, and Corey,” I threw over my shoulder as I led Jackson to the side entrance of the manor, “I still plan to tell your mother how you spent the afternoon.”

  * * * *

  Not Anders, or Maylen, or Corey, or Jackson, or, most impressively, not Elena, who insisted at the last moment that she join our little scouting party, said a single word to me about reconsidering my decision the morning we left for Jendlan Falls. Not a glance of worry or concern, nor pride or disbelief.

  Not a clue, in fact, as to what was going on inside their all-too-devious minds.

  After a leisurely breakfast on the Hill, where we’d enjoyed omelets with cheese, spiced sausages, and sugared rolls with cinnamon tea, our little band of spies headed up the road to Jendlan Falls. The four of them, maddeningly, skirted around my presence and tiptoed around my fears as though we were going on a family outing. By the time the roar of the falls came within hearing, I’d had quite enough.

  Pulling hard on the reins of my borrowed horse, I brought the poor bewildered animal to an abrupt halt, nearly unseating Elena, who was riding close behind. Her eyes, for one fleeting moment, shone with genuine worry before vanishing beneath a cautious bland mask.

  “Problem?” Anders brought his horse alongside mine, keeping his voice amiable and innocent.

  “You bet.”

  “Saddle slipping? Saddlebag loose? Backside hurting?” While my husband kept his features neutral at my unladylike grumble, Corey flushed bright scarlet from his neck to the roots of his dark hair, Elena bit her bottom lip hard to keep from laughing, and Jackson at least had the decency to look away. Maylen, may the lords of the sea forever bless her life, shot my husband and the queen a very disapproving scowl. “Please tell us, precious wife, why you brought your poor stupefied horse to a heart-stopping halt.”