Uncertainty gathered in my gut. “Am I going to like it?”
“Let’s just say, you won’t dislike it.” Elena shot me a crooked grin. “And maybe you’ll even agree. Imagine that. My Mage Protector, agreeing with something I’ve said.”
Intrigued rather than annoyed, I set aside my writing implements. Resting my chin in one hand, I waved her to explain.
“You must know how pleased and relieved I am for you and Jackson.” Elena waited for my nod before continuing, “But it doesn’t change anything.” At the immediate fire in my eyes, she chided, “Hush and listen.” When Emmy glanced up, curious for the simple fact her mother was being scolded, Elena whispered, “She always talks and never listens.”
“Hey, hey—”
“See what I mean?”
When Emmy bent her head to hide a smile, I tugged at a curl. “Don’t you dare agree with Elena, young lady,” I said sternly, “or I’ll send you to bed with no supper.”
“As though you ever would,” Elena scoffed, pretending to shield the little minx, now giggling openly at the absurdity of my statement. When she was certain the child had returned to her artwork, Elena turned serious. “I told you before the Mage Challenge that although it—” Reaching across the table again, she tapped the pendants. “Although it was helpful, quite helpful, I won’t deny it, so don’t give me that nasty look, Alex. I made a point of informing you that your friendship was far more important. You didn’t believe me then.” Elena sat back, deep blue eyes flashing with challenge and a hint of six-year-old residual annoyance. “I hope you’ve grown a little smarter and believe it now.”
“You know why I didn’t.”
“You were being a fool.”
Seagray eyes peeked at me, judging my mood, before returning to the drawing.
“I was—”
What had I been? Angry. Confused. Disappointed. Heartbroken. Betrayed.
“All of those,” Elena said softly, reading the emotions flashing across my face. “But that’s in the past, Mage Protector.”
“Was it necessary to say all that?”
“Absolutely.” Elena rested her chin in one hand, the diamond and sapphire ring of office glittering on her finger. “I know you thought yourself useless these past few weeks, which was enough to drive me to distraction. But as Jules said earlier, you’re many things, including crazy, but you’re not useless.”
“Two thinly disguised insults from my dearest friends in one day are much more than I can bear.”
“One other thing.” Ignoring me, Elena pulled two folded sheets of paper from the pocket of her silk tunic and handed them to me, though I hesitated. “I know you refused this earlier and why. But I don’t agree.” When I started to protest, pulling my hand back, she grabbed my fingers and shoved the papers inside. “I’d feel better if you had a copy of the ingredients for both potions. No, Alex,” —she brushed strands of black hair from her face with an impatient gesture— “don’t argue. For the lords’ sake, what are you afraid of? What do you really think you’re going to do? Give the mixture to anyone who annoys you, and then dangle the antidote in their face?” She didn’t give me a chance to sneak a word in. “Of course not. So hush and take them. Hide them away.”
Before I could protest, Emmy stopped drawing and studied the paper, snagging our attention. The illustration appeared to be a somewhat circular shape on the left, a bunch of dots in the center, and another somewhat circular shape, with wavy lines inside, on the right.
“Are you finished?” I asked, though whether the question was meant for Elena or my daughter, I wasn’t quite certain. Judging from Elena’s raised eyebrow, neither was she.
Emmy’s nod was grave as she pointed to the shape on the left. “That’s a rock, Mama. Can you see it?”
“Yes. It certainly looks like a rock.”
“And this” —she pointed to the bunch of scattered dots— “is what happens when the rock is crushed, like sand. And this” —Emmy tapped the circle on the right, her seagray eyes meeting mine— “is water. See?”
“Yes, of course. But I can’t tell whether it’s a puddle or a pond.”
Taking my question seriously, as I’d meant her to, Emmy thought for a moment. “Puddle.”
“That’s lovely,” Elena said, while I frantically tried to think how to answer, not sure why my daughter was so serious. “Why did you draw a rock and sand and a puddle of water? Was it something you saw in the garden?”
Emmy looked at Elena, the child’s expression so much older and wiser than it should have been, prompting a shiver down my spine. “If my magic doesn’t come back,” she said, “I’ll always remember what I did that day with Papa and Uncle Gwynn. Remember the magic I showed you, Mama?”
When all I could do was nod, catching back the threat of tears at her unexpected words, Elena took pity and came to my rescue, gathering Emmy on her lap and hugging her close. “Want to know what I think?” When Emmy nodded, she said, “I believe your magic will certainly come back. You know why? No? Then I’ll tell you.” Elena’s voice had certainty and authority. If I hadn’t known that an antidote existed, I might have believed her, too. “You look just like your mama, only you have your papa’s eyes. That means they both had a part in making you. And even better, they both have magic, don’t they? And don’t forget,” she reminded my daughter, “your mama lost her magic when she was a little girl, too. I remember because I was her friend and came to stay in Port Alain all summer long.” Elena’s smile was tinged with sorrow for the pain that age-old incident had caused us all. “And since her magic came back, that’s how I know yours will, too. All right?”
Smiling now, Emmy reached up to hug Elena, and then turned her head toward the doorway when she caught sight of a visitor. “Uncle Corey—”
“Forgive me, your majesty. I am interrupting.”
“Why are you apologizing to her and not me?” I demanded, enjoying his deep flush immensely.
“Leave your brother alone. Honestly, Alex.” Elena rolled her eyes and stood up to leave. “I’ve had quite enough of her, Corey. She’s all yours. Let her drive you mad instead of me.” The curse was out of my mouth before I could stop it. Emmy’s eyes went wide in amazement, and Elena covered the child’s ears, whispering, “Don’t forget to tell Grandma Rosanna that Mama said a very bad word.”
“Go away.”
“And she was rude.”
“I’m going to turn you into a squealing pig.”
“You can’t, and you know it.” Shooting me one last smug grin, Elena patted my brother’s shoulder in sympathy as she left the schoolroom.
I stared long and hard at Corey, who couldn’t hide a smile. In fact, he didn’t even bother to try, which meant he was getting far too comfortable with my brother and husband and friends. “No gloating?”
“Absolutely not, Alex, though it is tempting. If I tell the queen you were rude again, she will tattle on you to Lady Barlow as you tattled on me to my mother and will probably tattle on me again about something else.”
“That’s the spirit.”
“I am learning. In fact, I am learning from the best.” With that, his cocky grin faded. “Alex, Mother told me how lucky I was to be so welcome here and in Glynnswood.”
Curious at his mood, I studied his somber eyes and wondered what was wrong. “You know,” I said after a moment, “if you were the least bit wicked, we’d have kept you at arm’s length. But you’re a good man, Corey, and we were right to welcome you with open hearts. But surely that’s not troubling you, is it?”
“No.” Beneath Emmy’s serious scrutiny, he said, “Mother asked whether I wished to stay here, in Tuldamoran.”
Surprised, I sat back, never having considered the possibility. “Do you? It would mean a lot to us to have you near.” Saying that, I mocked myself in the privacy of my heart, that I, who for so long had kept family and friends at bay, should feel so different now, only a few years later.
“You see? You make it seem so possible, even
welcoming my mother. But—”
“Ah.” I saw his dilemma. “Your mother wouldn’t come here.”
Corey shook his head. “She is an elder in Spreebridge and has much work to do when this trouble is finally over, setting things to right again.”
“And I have full confidence that she’ll succeed,” I reassured him, believing Kimmer would single-handedly revolutionize Spreebridge society. “Look, Corey, it’s not something you need to decide now. Or ever, for that matter. You know you’re always welcome here, in Glynnswood, even Ardenna. And if you stay in Derbarry, we’ll visit you there.”
“I would be hurt if you did not.”
“Then put it aside for now. I need you sharp and alert in two days.” Suddenly, I grinned, gathering my notes into a neat pile. “You know, when you close the deal with all those, um,” —I caught Emmy’s curious expression— “women in Port Alain.”
* * * *
Knocking on the door of the sun parlor where Father was absorbed in writing a letter to someone back in Glynnswood, or so I assumed, I waited until he looked up.
A smile lit his eyes when he saw me. “Alex, come in.” He set aside the papers and waved me to join him by the cluttered desk beneath the window.
“If you’re busy—”
“I am never too busy for you.” Every once in a long while these days, the old familiar heartache of his abandonment of me to Rosanna’s care resurfaced. My father read the swiftly banished pain on my face, as easily as I read his heartfelt regret. “Alex—”
“Don’t you dare say a word, Elder Keltie. You know what it’s like, an old wound that aches with the coming of a summer storm from the bay. Over. Done. Useless. And a colossal waste of time.” I towered over my father’s chair, daring him to argue with my logic.
He started to speak, reconsidered, and waved me to a footstool near his feet. Running rough hands through his thick brown hair, he sighed. “You have a right to feel those emotions,” he said quietly.
“Not anymore.”
“So say our heads, but our hearts know better.”
“Wrong, wrong, wrong. That’s what forgiveness means. It’s over. Besides,” —I gave him a cocky smile— “if I haven’t forgiven you, then it means you have a right to not forgive me for being an obnoxious, contentious, arrogant— What else was I six years ago when I met you for the first time?”
“My loving, frightened, heartsick, furious, beautiful daughter.” Sernyn touched my cheek with a gentle caress and smiled. “So what mischief has Gwynn done to you now?”
“Gwynn?” Befuddled by his abrupt change of topic, I scratched my head, wondering what he could possibly mean. “Nothing.”
My father’s laugh was warm, a sound I’d missed during the first twenty-five years of my life. “I assumed you came to complain about your pest of a brother, as usual.”
“Ah, well, I can certainly make up some story. Even Anessa would believe it, too.” I sighed in mock resignation. “However, you must like him better than me, or you’d let me tell lies about him.”
“Did I ever tell you, young lady,” —his eyes laughed at me, the mischief eerily reminiscent of Anessa when she introduced Kimmer to Lauryn— “that Lady Barlow related many key details of your behavior growing up. You know this, yes, but did you know that her letters never spared me.”
“Meaning what?” I challenged, narrowing my eyes in suspicion.
“I learned about many of your more precocious incidents and cheeky replies, even when you were no older than Emmy.” The mischief turned smug. “Indeed, it amazes me Emmy is so unlike you. That child is well-behaved, polite, loving, funny, respectful of her elders, and she is also—”
“That’s what you think,” I said in self-defense. “She laughed at me only a little while ago when the queen insulted, scolded, and annoyed me.”
“Surely you deserved it.”
“Why am I wasting my breath?” I said in disgust, rolling my eyes. “I’m speaking with an adoring grandfather, who thinks the world revolves around his precious little Emmy.”
“As well as his precious Alex and Anessa and Gwynn and Maylen and Anders and now Corey,” my father said, suddenly serious. “I am very blessed, Alex, to be surrounded by those whom I love, particularly you, when I never thought to ever have your affection or acceptance or forgiveness.”
“I thought something similar a little while ago about my own fortune. Corey came to see me, a bit troubled. He said Kimmer asked him whether he wanted to stay in Tuldamoran when this affair is over. Corey said he was lucky to be so warmly welcomed. And I—” Tangling my fingers together, I searched for the right words until my father’s larger hands covered mine. “I said it would mean a lot to us if he did stay, either with you in Glynnswood or with us here in Port Alain, but that we’d visit him in Derbarry if he didn’t.”
“So what is wrong with that?” he asked, brushing a strand of hair from my eyes as I looked up. “It is a wonderful, loving thought, Alex.”
“Yes, I know. But when I said that, it struck me how I’d spent so many years keeping my distance from people who loved me.”
“Ah.” Bending to kiss my cheek, my father smiled. “But you forget one important fact. You may have kept your distance from family and friends, but it was not because you did not love them. You inherited your mother’s need for independence. And as for me, you did not even know I was alive.” He placed a finger over my lips as I started to speak. “And though you took your time in letting me into your life, you have made up for our mutual loss five thousand times over.”
“Think you’re so smart, do you?”
“Indeed. Now,” —he sat back, proud of himself— “was there a specific reason you came to visit me? Or simply to brighten my day?”
“Flattery will get you nowhere, old man. But yes, I had a reason. Two, actually.” I bit my lip, wondering if I could actually go through with the second part. “All right, don’t look at me like that. I’m not sure if I even have a right to ask you such a dicey question, but I will, anyway.” Under his serene scrutiny, I felt about three years old. “Are you comfortable with Kimmer here in Port Alain? I mean, her arrival was quite a surprise. And, well, is Anessa?”
“Yes, of course. Both of us are delighted.” Judging from his smile, it occurred to me the old fox might have expected that question. “You know we have remained friends, and I have hidden nothing from Anessa about our time together. Except my son,” he hastened to add before I did, “about whom I had no idea. But I have not seen Kimmer, face-to-face, since the time I spent with her years ago.”
After mother died giving birth to me. Sernyn read that thought in my eyes, too, and I cut him off. “That’s good. Even though you’re both very mature adults, I was a little worried it might cause problems.” I grinned, enjoying his indignant expression. “So what do you think of Corey, now that I’ve already gone and told him he could stay here.”
“I am glad you had the decency to admit that little fact. Had I done so, you would have cried foul,” he teased. “But truly, I think he is a fine young man. After all, he did inherit some of my better qualities.”
“Don’t be smug. You had very little to do with it. Well, I like him, too, but I have one complaint.” Keeping my expression grave, though Sernyn wasn’t fooled, I said, “We have to get him into a little more mischief. I might have to ask Gwynn to help out.”
“Alex, please, I will be all gray by the time this trouble has ended.”
“Thank you.”
“For what?” Suspicious, Sernyn crossed his arms, looking a bit like Rosanna when she knew I was keeping something from her or plotting something villainous.
“For bringing me right to the next point I wanted to make. I have something I’d like you to think about.” I got up from the stool and paced away from the desk and my father’s questioning eyes, halfway across the cozy chamber, and then back. “It’s more dicey than my earlier question.”
“So I gathered from your trek across the carpet. Go on.”<
br />
“It’s about—” I couldn’t easily ask, though I’d practiced the conversation in my head several times.
“Alex, you can ask me anything.”
“I know. It’s just hard, sometimes, to intrude in a person’s private life. Even for me,” I added, forcing a grin to my face that felt false.
“Is it about Anessa? No, then Kimmer?” My father studied my face, at a loss. “Your mother?” he asked softly, nodding when a flush betrayed me.
“Not directly,” I said. “Not really. But it’s about your mage talent.”
Getting to his feet, Sernyn mimicked my pacing, and then came to stand before me, so that we were inches away. “Go on.”
“I know you never use it, and why, though I’ve never told you I know the reason. You always assumed I linked it to my mother’s death, didn’t you?” Catching the surprise on his face as he nodded, I explained, “Anders told me about your friend when he was teaching me to use my own mage talent. Your fear was the same as mine, that you had nearly killed or seriously hurt a very dear friend.”
Old sorrow filled his eyes. “You were stronger than me, Alex, and for that, I am glad. You found the courage and the strength to overcome your fears and do what needed to be done for Elena and, maybe even more importantly, for yourself.” His smile was full with a father’s pride, and then he shrugged. “But I have no reason to use the gift.”
“Sure, you do.”
My tone was so matter of fact it stopped his protest. “I do not understand. What reason do I have?”
“An adored and adoring imp who has shown amazing mage talent.”
“And that precious child has a mother and father who can teach her. And if they fall short of the task,” he argued quietly, “Emmy is surrounded by many loving family and friends who could step in. Besides—”
“Calm down.” My turn to place a hand over his lips. “I’m not making any demands. I just think it would be wonderful if you and Emmy could share your magic.”
Mage Evolution (Book 3) Page 20
