Mage Evolution (Book 3)

by Virginia G. McMorrow

  Before my brother could say anything more, I moved out of earshot and blended into the noisy crowd, with nowhere to go.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “Spectacular sunset.”

  “I hadn’t noticed.”

  “Then you must be blind, Alex.”

  Turning my head from the glorious sky, where clouds were lit from behind as the setting sun lowered inch by inch on the horizon, I shot Lauryn a lopsided smile. “How were you chosen to be the lucky one to come and slay the dragon?”

  Blue eyes twinkled with undisguised mischief. “Your father suggested I might be the only one who could get within a safe distance. He, um, seemed to think everyone else ran the risk of getting a fist smashed into his or her lovely face.”

  Sighing, though I had to admit the old fox was right, I was suddenly aware of the cold hard stone of the seawall beneath my backside. How long had I been sitting there?

  “Sernyn thought you might say that.”

  “You all think I’m wrong.”

  “First of all,” Lauryn assumed her maternal voice, “it doesn’t matter what any of us think, and that includes Elena,” she added, meeting my gaze with a stubborn look. “You’re the only one whose opinion and heart should matter to you.”

  “And second?”

  “The household is split. Don’t ask me to name names.” She grinned, elbowing me until I almost fell off the wall. “I’m sworn to secrecy.”

  “Fool.” I tucked my hands beneath my rear to add a bit of cushioning. “What’s your opinion?” I asked because her opinion did matter to me, and always had.

  “It’s not important.”

  “It is to me,” I said, suddenly serious. Craning my neck to see the manor in the distance atop the Hill, I added, “Whenever I find myself in a dilemma, you’re the only one I can count on to be objective. Rosanna, though I love her dearly, isn’t always objective and, in her defense, she can’t be, but don’t ever tell her I said that. Considering the arguments she and I have had in the past, you can see why.”

  Lauryn put her arm around my shoulder and hugged me close before letting go. “You want my honest opinion?” When I nodded, she admitted, “I’m divided, too, Alex. I can see both sides in this little wrangle. In the years Jules and I have been married, I’ve come to appreciate how challenging it is to rule peacefully and fairly, and how even more difficult it is when times are troubled. As monarch, Elena faces more complications and has the right to demand unconditional support. Hold on, Alex, before smashing my face,” she said, half in jest, “let me finish.” Smiling as she saw the angry fire in my eyes fade away, Lauryn continued with her long-winded explanation. “That doesn’t mean, however, that a monarch should expect her advisors to mindlessly and blindly obey her commands.”

  “Only in public, so it looks like they are mindlessly and blindly obeying her every wish, Lauryn.”

  When I would have fled, Lauryn grabbed my cloak and held on tight. “Question her in private, Alex. That’s all she’s really asking. In the end, it’s Elena’s decision to make. She’s the one who has to live with it.”

  “So I’m wrong.”

  Smiling at my pouting response, as she would if either of her twins stood arguing in front of her, Lauryn said, “You’re both wrong. And you’re both right. And you’re both sulking like spoiled children. In fact, I’ve never seen your own daughter with such a pout on her pretty face.” Lauryn’s sunny smile turned sly. “By the way, you caught Elena off guard by throwing the pendants in her lap. In my humble opinion, she didn’t come after you for the simple reason she was speechless. Every once in a while,” —Lauryn beamed— “people, the rest of us included, need to be reminded you have a very strong mind of your own.”

  “You see why I depend on you.”

  Lauryn laughed and got to her feet, releasing my cloak as the sun finally disappeared. “Coming home for dinner? Or is that too much to ask?”

  “Too much.”

  “I thought so. Oh, and Alex, Elena did say to tell you that she’s going to keep Elders Frontish and Harlowe busy tonight.” Lauryn’s smile was impish. “She intends to go down to the Stoutheart and supply a guard of Port Alain troops, courtesy of the Crown. It seems she heard a, um, credible rumor someone is planning to rob precious cargo from the ship, you know, all those gems and ore they’ve brought south from the Keshtang mines.”

  “Is that,” I drawled my question, “her way of apologizing?”

  Lauryn’s face underwent an exquisite transformation from amused mischief to bland neutrality in the blink of an eye. “Elena also said, um, if you chose to interpret her message in that manner, you’re wrong. Her plan” —Lauryn cleared her throat with great delicacy— “is intended to keep those involved in tonight’s dangerous activity safe from harm. Um, Alex,” —she blinked once, then again— “is there any message for the queen?”

  “Tell her that—” I bit back the crude reply which leaped to mind when Lauryn stifled a laugh. “Tell her majesty I’m quite certain my father’s scouts are grateful for her extra precautions. And that” —I narrowed my eyes at Lauryn, defying her to laugh aloud— “if she chooses to interpret that as my way of apologizing, she’s dead wrong since I’m not a scout.”

  “That’s for sure. You’re too noisy.” Lauryn laughed aloud as she scampered out of reach and back up the Hill.

  * * * *

  Sitting comfortably in the back of the common room of the Seaman’s Berth near the kitchen, I was biding my time while Chester encouraged the remaining stragglers to go home and sleep off their excess celebrating. Finally, when he’d sent his daughter off to bed, and the common room was blessedly silent, Chester joined me at the table, a mug of ale in his hand. Wiping his brow melodramatically, he grinned, downing half the mug. “What a day.”

  “Stop complaining. You made a queen’s ransom in business.”

  “That I did. Even the queen’s Mage Protector honored my establishment, though she dined alone. And all day long, my good friend.” He downed the rest of the ale, and belched politely. “It’s been on the tip of my tongue to ask why. Trouble at home?”

  “Difference of opinion.”

  “With your husband?”

  “With my queen.”

  “Ah. Oh, Alex, that’s not good.” Chester eyed me in speculation, but correctly guessed he’d get no more from me. “Your fellow conspirators should already be in the cellar. Shall we join them?”

  “Sure.” I followed the innkeeper like a docile lamb to the dank cellar, where he kept his kegs of ale, racks of wine from the Marain Valley vineyards, and some of his nonperishable food supplies. Greeting the others, I nodded in turn to Gwynn, Maylen, and a handful of my father’s scouts, who were almost finished marking the sand-filled containers with Spreebridge notations to duplicate what was found on the feyweed crates aboard the Stoutheart. “Anders? Is Emmy all right?” I asked, sidling over to my husband, who watched me through narrowed eyes.

  “Fine, though she misses her mama.”

  “Well, I miss her, too.”

  “How will you know the difference?” Chester asked, indicating the markings on the crates before Anders could make another snide comment.

  “Smell. You’ll be able to tell the difference yourself up close.” Anders produced a flask filled with the unmistakable appalling odor of feyweed with which to sprinkle the crates.

  When he offered a sniff to the innkeeper, Chester waved him away. “Ugh. I see what you mean.”

  “I thought you might. Any reason not to start moving the crates upstairs?”

  “None. Everyone’s gone home, though you’d best post a lookout.” At Chester’s reply, one of the scouts signaled she’d take that responsibility and disappeared on quiet feet up the narrow staircase.

  “You might let the younger folk do the heavy lifting,” I teased Anders, playfully poking his firm stomach. “Otherwise, you’ll be useless later on when we go home.” Leaning closer, I brushed his lips with my own, reading concern in those seag
ray eyes. “I’m all right,” I said quietly. “For the moment, anyway. And now isn’t the time to discuss it.”

  Yielding to his desire to pull the truth from me, Anders backed away. “Later, then.” When I nodded, he directed the young scouts to start bringing the crates up to the rear entrance on the main floor.

  To my surprise, the switch was made without incident, from the back of one building to the other in less than two hours. No one was about, not even on the streets, which was likely the result of the day’s indulgence. Added to that was the expertise of the Glynnswood scouts, whose stealth and caution were exemplary, and the presence of Port Alain troops patrolling the docks, thanks to Elena’s feigned worry for her prestigious visitors. Exhausted by the time we’d finished, though my effort was more lookout and mage, should magic be necessary, I waved the scouts into the common room for ale or whatever they desired. I wasn’t surprised when they declined and melted into the night, one of them, no doubt, going up to the Hill to report their success to my father. Maylen and Gwynn stayed behind with Anders and me, along with Chester, whose eyelids were drooping. It was on the tip of my tongue to send him off to bed, when I caught his furtive glance to a table set against the wall.

  A nearly empty bottle of vintage Marain Valley wine between them, Elena and Jackson sat watching, as I stopped dead in my tracks. Elena got to her feet, her face blank. With one easy, smooth movement, she tossed something my way. Catching the article in my hand, I knew before I looked what she’d thrown. Across the vast width of the space between us, physical and emotional, I met her querying gaze and slipped the leather thong over my head, letting the twin pendants settle comfortably on my chest.

  “Well, now that that little bit of business is settled,” Anders began, immediately raising his hands in defense when both Elena and I glared at him, identical scowls on our faces. “Ah, why don’t the rest of us” —he gathered Jackson, Maylen, Gwynn, and Chester with his eyes, indicating the back of the room on the opposite side, as far from the two of us as possible— “give the ladies some privacy.”

  I bit my lip to restrain a laugh. When the others were safely out of earshot, Elena edged closer until we were inches away from each other. “I don’t want mindless, blindly obedient, blithering fools to act as my advisors,” she said quietly. “I thought you knew that.”

  The urge to defend my actions was nearly overwhelming, but I forced it back down and out of reach. “I did, and I do.”

  She started to argue, but I raised a hand to halt her words.

  “I know what Seamage Brandt tried to do. And now we have the crates in the Mage Council Hall to hold over his head, his guilt is even more apparent.” I shut my eyes for a moment, hoping to make her see why I might have been so adamant about giving him feyweed. “But, when you and Jules arrived, he’d just told me how he’d loved my grandmother, though she’d rejected him. And how his life might have been different if she’d given him a chance.” When Elena blinked in confusion at this unexpected turn of the conversation, I added, “Look, I’m not saying it should matter or help forgive his crimes, because it shouldn’t. But—” I sighed, shaking my head in defeat. “I don’t know, Elena. It was hard enough to know by my own experience what he would feel when he drank the feyweed. And to experience that on top of his own bitterness— Maybe I just pitied some small part of him because under all his malice, he had the makings of a heart.”

  Elena studied my face for so long in silence that I wasn’t at all sure what she was thinking. Finally, losing patience, I said, “What? For the lords’ sake, tell me what’s going on in that head of yours—”

  “Only this.” My friend placed her hands on my shoulders, leaned closer, and kissed my forehead, almost in blessing, surprising me completely. “Not only do people underestimate your mage talent and your intelligence, Alex, but they always underestimate the depth of your own heart.” Her smile, even as it reached her blue eyes, was sad. “I’m sorry. I did what I had to do, and I’ve no regrets, but I am so very sorry you were caught up in it.”

  “I shouldn’t have questioned your decision in public.”

  “No,” —her smile was brighter now— “you shouldn’t have, but you’re off the hook. There weren’t too many witnesses.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  With barely a few hours sleep and none of them restful, I scrubbed my eyes free of grit and fatigue and headed down to the harbor, where Port Alain troops still patrolled the streets. Beyond the perimeter set around the Stoutheart, ostensibly for its protection, a brisk trade was going on aboard the ship between the captain and a group of local merchants. Apparently, the presence of the ducal military did nothing to impede the flow of commerce, for which her majesty would be relieved. Either that or she’d be hearing Jules’s complaints until we were all dead and buried.

  Chasing away that frivolous thought, I slipped a somber expression on my face just as I reached the foot of the gangplank. “Permission to come aboard, Captain?” I shouted, hoping to be heard above the noisy haggling.

  The Spreebridge official peered over the railing, expecting another merchant, his eyes widening at sight of me. “Mage Protector, yes, of course. Come aboard. Join the crowd.” He offered me a hand as I neared the top. “How can I be of service?”

  “Actually, I was looking for Elder Frontish. Is he aboard?”

  “Yes, below deck in his cabin. The noise was a little overwhelming,” the captain added with a grin as he signaled a crew member to fetch the elder. “He will be delighted to see you.”

  “I wouldn’t wager on that, but thanks. Go on. I don’t want to impose on your time.” I smiled, not wanting him to think me rude. “I’ll just enjoy the sea breeze, while you conduct business. Looks brisk.”

  “It is indeed. Though, I confess, after all the festivities, I could use nothing more than some quiet and a few good nights’ sleep. But if you are sure—” Smiling, he returned to the anxious group of merchants when I waved him on.

  Watching the captain walk away, I wondered about the extent of his knowledge concerning feyweed. While my instinct judged him clueless, how could he not notice the fact ten crates were missing?

  “Mage Protector?”

  Remembering to keep the somber expression on my face, I turned at the sound of my name to find the Spreebridge elder striding across the deck. “Good morning, Elder Frontish. I’m sorry to disturb you so early.” Indicating the nearest Port Alain trooper on horseback, I shook my head. “Troublesome welcome, for which I must apologize on behalf of my people.”

  “Surely you need not take the blame,” he said smoothly. “It is a wise action, as your queen graciously pointed out, to take precautions. Crime is not unknown in Derbarry, either.”

  “Still, it is my home. In fact, the sight of the troopers this morning made me think of something.” Touching his sleeve to draw him aside for privacy away from the transactions taking place, I glanced over my shoulder to be sure no one was near enough to listen. I was gratified when he leaned closer, intrigued. “Is it possible Jackson is behind the rumors of theft the queen’s heard? You know,” —I intentionally touched the twin pendants hanging at my neck— “to unsettle the fledgling trade relationship between us and make things more difficult for Elena?”

  “Ah, Mage Protector, I had not considered that possibility.”

  “After the odd and, I confess, suspicious behavior Jackson has been exhibiting, I don’t know what to think. But I can assure you,” I said earnestly, “I’ve considered his involvement.” I flashed a self-conscious smile. “My defense of him the other night was selfish. Admitting he was guilty of some crime would, as you guessed correctly, make me feel I’d failed in my responsibility to the queen. But you were right, and I have no choice but to follow the trail and see where it leads. In any event, is there anything I can do to make this situation” —I waved a hand in the direction of the guard— “more tolerable?”

  “Not at all,” the elder reassured me. “I have no quarrel with the queen’s cauti
on and, in fact, welcome it. Especially in light of” —leaning closer to me, he glanced across the road to the Mage Council Hall— “the arrest of Seamage Brandt. The children, I trust, are unharmed?”

  “Yes, thank you. The seamage underestimated me,” I said quietly, thinking about Elena’s words only a few hours earlier, “as well as my bodyguard, who defended and saved my life. And believe me, Elder Frontish, I was in dire need, without magic. But all ended well, the children think of it as an adventure, a criminal is now off the streets of Port Alain, and you” —I bowed low with respect— “are a very busy man. Don’t let me keep you.” I smiled. “Unless, of course, you’ve learned the art of delegation and have Elder Harlowe do all the work.”

  Matching my smile, he said, “Sometimes, Mage Protector, as they say, rank does have its privileges. As senior elder of Spreebridge’s council—” His shrug completed the thought.

  Laughing, I clapped him on the back. “It’s true. The queen constantly delegates to me.” Turning to leave, I stopped as though a thought just occurred to me. “Is Elder Harlowe aboard? I feel as though I’ve been slighting him.”

  “I will pass along your compliments, Mage Protector. Only last evening, Westin expressed a similar thought, that he had not had sufficient time to speak with you, particularly about Jackson. But at the moment” —the man’s smile grew cagey— “he is busy running errands for me.”

  With a mock groan, I shook my head. “Send him my sympathy.”

  * * * *

  Stifling a huge yawn, I almost flattened my father as he turned the corner of the upper floor of the manor, heading toward Rosanna’s parlor. “Sorry.”

  Catching me with a graceful motion before I fell on my face, he frowned. “How much sleep have you had, Alex?” Father demanded, shaking me gently by the shoulders.

  “Sleep? What’s that?”

  “My very point.”

  “Sh— You sound like a father,” I scolded, trying, and failing admirably, to lessen his concern. “I promise I’ll sleep for a week when this trouble is over and done. Have you had any word about Westin Harlowe?”