“I would like that.”
“Then why not be nicer to her?”
Gwynn looked at me as though I’d suddenly sprouted horns and claws. “Do you think it would work?”
“It did for Anders.” I laughed at his sudden transformation. “Besides, she’ll still provoke you, but you’ll certainly catch her off guard. It’s worth a chance. Men can fight back, you know.”
His smile was infectious. “I will try. Can I speak with Anders about this?”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea, since Anders is a terrible influence. Your mother even admitted that to me,” I said, realizing from his grin she’d repeated at least some of that conversation. “But now, I want the truth.” I gave him a stern look. “Were you angry with me?”
His smile faded. “Yes. A little.”
“All right. But you have to be obvious like me when I’m mad so I’ll know when to apologize. I’m sure Maylen already knows that trick.”
That trick and many more. But Gwynn did manage to catch her off guard the next day to his immense delight.
* * * *
We made our cautious way across the Jendlan Bridge, with Anders keeping his comments to himself as I flew across the span in sheer panic. We were a day’s travel closer to the Bitteredge Mountains, and I was uneasy, without knowing why. I stayed clear of the children, who’d declared an odd sort of bickering truce, no different really than Anders and me.
But all the while, as we traveled, I couldn’t dismiss the feeling of danger.
“What is it?” Anders asked for the hundredth time that day, seagray eyes scanning the woods in all directions.
“I don’t know.”
“When you’re irritable and restless like this, it worries me,” he complained, unable to keep the anxiety from his own expression.
“It should.”
“Why?” he snapped, looking in every direction but at me. “What’s wrong?” When I didn’t answer, but braced, swiftly coaxing forth the fire and ice, he grabbed my arm. “Alex, for—”
“Can’t you feel it?”
Eyes shut tight, I reached out, merging the fire and ice to cool warmth, shivering at the alien mage talent surrounding us, creeping closer, sending chills up my spine. Without warning, Anders shoved Maylen and Gwynn down and out of sight. I gasped with shock as I was caught unbalanced before the elements had smoothly merged, distracted by coarse ropes thrown over me. Fire and ice sliced through every inch of my body, sharp as knives, as I tumbled unconscious to the ground.
* * * *
“My apologies, Mage Protector, for the rough treatment.”
Muttering a vicious oath about my captor’s parentage, I opened my eyes and found indecently attractive green eyes set in a seductive handsome face topped by short black wavy hair, watching me. It wasn’t lost on me that he was using Elena’s latest title for me.
Cautious amusement danced in those eyes as he kept his distance. “It was necessary to get your attention.”
“It would have been far more polite to send a courier to Port Alain,” I said, trying to ignore the nagging ache in my head, “if you wanted favorable attention.”
“True,” he admitted, “but knowing your reputation and skill, I could not take the chance that you would not overwhelm me before I could explain.”
“Hmmm.” With utmost discretion, I began to coax the fire and ice back from their sleep, hoping the pain wouldn’t disable me.
“Ah, no, please.” The pirate’s apology actually sounded sincere. “I cannot have you doing that. The children—”
Hiding my panic, I looked around for the first time since opening my eyes. Anders looked uncomfortable, tangled in rope, as he eyed me in warning. Surrounded by dark-clad guards, Gwynn and Maylen huddled together, defiance all too evident on their young faces.
“The children, I am sorry to say, will suffer if you use your quite respectable and impressive talent.” As the brigand edged closer to them to emphasize his point, Gwynn moved to trip him. I cried out in warning as our jailer caught his balance and slapped Gwynn hard, rocking my brother’s head back against the tree trunk.
“Lay a hand on him again, and I promise you, I’ll rip out your heart and stuff it down your throat.”
“Your brother, I would guess.” Folding his arms across his broad chest, the stranger peered back and forth between us, verifying the similarity. With a sigh, he walked back across the clearing and crouched beside me. “I desperately want to avoid anyone getting hurt. I have information you need and a deal to offer.” Bright green eyes studied me. “My name is Jackson Tunney. I am a mage.” He edged so close I could feel his warm breath on my cheek. “From Spreebridge.”
Spreebridge.
“If I have your word that you will listen and not try to escape, I will have you and the Crownmage untied.”
“And the children.”
“I cannot take that risk. I need some assurance of your good faith,” he said, keeping those indecent eyes locked on mine.
“You’ll have to trust me.”
“Not if you want the information.”
“Flameblast you, Tunney!” I snapped, losing all patience. “I have no time for this nonsense. We wouldn’t be here if you didn’t need something from us in return. Now either set us all free or rot in a watery grave.”
Tunney glanced at Anders in mock sympathy. “Is she always this contentious?”
“Only when she doesn’t get her way. Now be a good mage and listen to her, or we’ll all regret it. She does have a valid point, you know,” Anders added, his tone so amiable, I was tempted to knee his groin the moment I was set free.
Tunney scratched his curly head. “I am not very skilled at negotiating, but I do need you to listen.”
“I can hear much better if I’m comfortable,” I muttered darkly.
“I am sure of that, Mage Protector.” Jackson Tunney suddenly grinned and got to his feet. With an order for the guards to keep close watch, he released all of us, including my sullen brother.
“Are you all right?” I asked Gwynn, as he rubbed the back of his head, nodding at me, while shooting daggers in Tunney’s direction.
“I understand” —the mage ignored my brother’s glare and gave me an innocent look— “that you also hear better with a glass of Marain Valley wine in your hand.” At a wave, one of the guards brought two bottles of wine, as the foreign mage helped me to my feet.
“Does everyone in Tuldamoran know my affairs?” I complained, trying to stretch the kinks from my aching legs without aggravating the pain in my head.
“There are certain, ah, aspects to your affairs that are widely known.” Tunney handed me a glass. “And others of which only a few are aware. Such as your new title, Mage Protector.”
“What else?” I prompted out of perverse curiosity.
“Why you are here and who you are tracking.”
“We’re traveling for pleasure.” I met his insolent gaze without blinking, examining the glass as though I hadn’t a care in the world.
“You are traveling with a definite purpose. And I can help you. We know about Duke Barlow’s sister. And before you say a word against us, which would be your right,” he added, surprising me, in a tone of apparent sincerity once again, “we were too late to help her. We knew the renegade mages were kidnapping people.”
“There are more then, aren’t there?” Anders cut in, taking a wedge of bread from Maylen’s outstretched hand before she passed it along to my brother.
“Yes. We have been following them. You know about the history of Glynnswood mages and Spreebridge, from which they originated.” At my silent nod, he went on. “The elders in Spreebridge do not usually pay attention to affairs here in Tuldamoran, but word came back to them that some renegade mages were starting trouble again. And to be honest,” —he glanced at Anders and then me, cheeks flushing with some emotion or embarrassment, I couldn’t tell— “they might have done nothing if the two of you had not made such a flamboyant appearance.”
“Meaning?”
“No offense,” Tunney apologized to Anders, “but a Crownmage after five hundred years was enough to start an uproar. But then a Mage Champion shows up with unexpected talent eerily reminiscent of the old Spreebridge tales. They were curious, as well as concerned.” The mage looked thoughtful as he washed down his bread and cheese with some wine. “So they sent me to investigate.”
Convinced now the wine in my glass was not poisoned or drugged, I took a sip. “Why you?” I asked, resting my chin on my hand, instinctively picking up on some hidden message.
His handsome face turned twice as crimson as he said what I’d already guessed, “My talent is, ah, very like yours.”
“I see.”
“Do you?” He snatched up another chunk of bread.
“Well, for one thing, I see that I’m no longer unique. And that’ll take some getting used to.” I gave him a crooked grin.
“You’ll always be unique to me, heart of my heart.” Anders leaned over and patted my knee, sniffing with indignation when I shot him a dubious look, which, of course, prompted him to grace Maylen with a sidelong grin.
I turned back to Tunney with a shake of my head, forgetting the pain, and wishing I hadn’t moved so fast. “Are there a lot of you?”
Green eyes shone with a hint of deep mischief. “No. You and I are still somewhat unique. The elders kept me a secret for quite some time.”
“For good reason.”
“Probably. But anyway, here I am, and what I have discovered is that there are several renegades scattered across the Edgecliff-Glynnswood border, kidnapping women and children to use in merging bloodlines.” Taking a deep breath, he shook his head. “As I said before, Mage Protector,”—his eyes were downcast—”we were too late for the duke’s sister. I am very sorry.”
“I wish you hadn’t been, but the damage is already done.”
“Has she—” Fumbling in his haste, Tunney stopped his words after a swift glance at Gwynn and Maylen.
“She has. And they know.”
“You are here for justice, then?”
Weary, I leaned back against Anders and closed my eyes. “I’m here to stop what’s happening before anyone else is hurt.”
“We will help you.” His simple statement caught me unawares. As I blinked my eyes open, he added, “They are renegade mages from Spreebridge,” he admitted, “and they are going to cause trouble between my kingdom and Tuldamoran. We want them stopped and punished as much as you do.”
“Why haven’t you done so already?” There was a hard note to Gwynn’s voice I had never heard before. I regretted, deep in my heart, that I ever had to hear such a tone from the boy. Anders gave me an inscrutable look as I craned my head to glance at him.
“Before I answer your question,” Tunney said with respect, “I wish to say that I am sorry for striking you earlier. I thought you were trying to escape.”
When my brother didn’t acknowledge his apology, Maylen’s hand crept along his arm and gently squeezed. “Why haven’t you stopped them?” she demanded.
“We have been tracking them with great caution.” Tunney’s voice lost its apology. “We did not know then how many there were. We do now. There were six before, five now, since the woman you fought at Edgecliff fell to her death.” He shrugged at Gwynn in explanation. “Their organization is loose, volatile, as some of the mages are more or less rational than others. But now we know.”
“And if I hadn’t conveniently walked into your backyard—”
Tunney cut me off with a disarming smile as he poured wine all around. “I would have sent a courier to Port Alain.”
“I see.”
“Well, I don’t.” Anders took a long sip of wine and stretched his legs around my body, effectively hemming me in. “You said you’d help us and explained why. But I still feel I’m missing a point somewhere. What’s really in it for Spreebridge?”
“Spreebridge wants only to be left alone. To be frank, we fear Tuldamoran will blame us, invade our peace, and demand retribution.”
“Elena can be vicious.”
Anders tapped my head with a light finger. “Our host is being serious.”
“So am I.”
Jackson turned a stunning smile my way. “I would like to offer our help for the queen’s promise not to exact vengeance on Spreebridge. And that is where we thought you might help us.”
“I’m not a good negotiator, Master Tunney.”
“Neither am I, as you can see from our introduction.” Another smile blazed across his face. “But you, at least, have the queen’s ear.”
“Actually, she pays far more attention to Crownmage Perrin.”
“That’s because I’m more civilized.”
“And if I were civilized,” —Tunney stood, without waiting for an answer as to whether or not we’d help him— “I would let my guests get some sleep. We can talk again in the morning.”
“Are you civilized enough to trust us?” Gwynn challenged, solemn eyes fixed on Tunney.
“Yes, of course, Master Keltie,” Jackson Tunney bowed formally. “I misjudged you as a child. It would seem I was very wrong.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
“I thought it best, Mage Protector, to use you for bait.” Jackson’s expression never wavered as he informed us of his plan with which to address the renegade mages.
“Why not me?” Cool seagray eyes studied him closely.
“Jealous?” I nudged Anders in the ribs. As he gave me that if-that’s-what-you-think-it-is look, I grinned and turned back to the foreign mage. “Well, why not Anders?”
“Pardon, Crownmage.” Tunney’s face turned bright scarlet. “No insult intended toward your talent, of course, but the Mage Protector’s magic is more intriguing.” He blinked, looking decidedly embarrassed. “That is, to the renegades, of course,” he added, as I started to chuckle.
“Then why not you?” Gwynn’s quiet voice sliced through my amusement, and I regretted once more that my brother had lost something innocent on this trip when he should have been left at home, boyish and cocky. “In fact, why have you been able to evade capture?”
“For the simple reason that I have kept my distance, as well as my power, from them. My companions have come closest to spy on their camp. Besides, even were the renegades to know that I am a mage, they would still not know what kind of power I wield. And I am unknown to them, Master Keltie. Unfortunately, your sister is well-known throughout Tuldamoran—and more of an attraction.”
“But she is not unique,” Gwynn persisted in a calm manner that made even Anders sit up and take notice. “So you can make yourself known to them as my sister did,” he emphasized the word, tugging at the lock of unruly hair, “when she trapped the female renegade some months ago.”
I stretched over to grab a fistful of Gwynn’s wool cloak. “Yes, he can. But they know about me, which makes it easier. Besides, we don’t have the time or luxury for a well-developed plan. We need to be back in Port Alain before Khrista’s baby is born.”
Gwynn stared at me for a long time in silence until Maylen grabbed a fistful of the other side of his cloak and tugged. “She is right.”
When my brother started to say something, I stopped his words with a hand to his lips. I knew that dangerous expression in his eyes. “I’ll make sure you’re there to keep an eye on me. Between you and Anders, I’ll be perfectly safe.”
Tunney blinked long lashes over his green eyes, sidestepping the family drama. “Once we have caught the mages, we will give them a draught to keep them sleeping until we decide what to do with them.”
“And then?”
Anders planted a kiss on the tip of my nose. “Must you always ask difficult questions?”
“Someone has to.”
“I would leave that to the queen’s justice,” Tunney answered, glancing at each of us in turn, including Maylen and Gwynn in the silent appraisal. “If you would intercede for me, Mage Protector, I would ask the queen’s restraint
from holding Spreebridge to blame.”
“I should think Elena would be fair-minded. But still,” I mused, considering the logistics, “five renegade mages will need careful watching.”
“And justice.” The foreign mage’s expression transformed to a harshness I hadn’t yet seen. “Some of them are truly mad and not at all rational. Others are simply cold-hearted and vicious. It would seem only fair that Spreebridge take responsibility for dealing with them.”
“I’d like to see them stripped of their talent, but I don’t see how that can be done without killing them,” I murmured, hugging my knees close to my chest.
“There is a way.” When I stared at Tunney, dumbfounded at his confident words, he explained, “Spreebridge elders have found a peculiar draught to block mage talent.” He raked shaking fingers through short black curls, obviously as uneasy with the concept as I was. “Feyweed. If taken in too strong a mixture, it may be fatal.”
My thoughts flew back to Port Alain. “Could we use it for Khrista’s baby? And can it be reversed?”
“It is risky. The child might die. And” —he stuffed his hands deep inside his cloak— “when I left Spreebridge, the elders were no nearer to finding a way to reverse the damage. There were rumors but nothing I could believe with confidence.”
“But feyweed—could it save the duke’s sister?”
Jackson shrugged in sincere apology. “I am sorry, but I do not know.”
“Alex.” Anders gripped my shoulders tight. “That’s a decision for Khrista to make.”
“I know. But it’s a choice.” Finding little comfort in the arms he held around me, I murmured, “Then we’d best take care of these renegades and go home.”
“The sooner the better.”
“We know where they have made camp. It is where” —Tunney blinked again, considering his words after glancing at the young people— “they have taken women and children hostage. If we distract the renegades and capture them, my people can free the villagers.”
“Yes.” Anders nodded in agreement. “And I have a plan.”
Mage Resolution (Book 2) Page 21