Mage Resolution (Book 2)

by Virginia G. McMorrow

  “Yes?”

  “Can you stay with Jackson for a moment in case they give him any trouble?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Good.” I turned to leave and fainted dead away.

  * * * *

  “Mage Protector—”

  “Alex,” I interjected, stifling a yawn. “We’ve been through too much together for formality.”

  “We have, yes.” Jackson sighed, his handsome face strained with fatigue. “If you have no objections, I will send the renegades back to Spreebridge under heavy guard. I know we spoke of having the queen dispense justice, but in truth, I have been thinking that they are Spreebridge criminals and deserve Spreebridge punishment.” Running a hand through his black curls, he waited for my answer. When I nodded my agreement, too tired to argue, as long as the renegades were taken away and dealt with, Jackson turned to give the order to his small band of woodsmen.

  When he was finished, I grabbed hold of his cloak. “Are you all right?”

  The mage graced me with a crooked smile. “If it were not my responsibility, I would have fainted right beside you.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t,” Anders said, putting on a brave face. “I couldn’t catch both of you at the same time.”

  Green eyes flashed in appreciative humor. “Well, then.” Jackson turned back to me. “We can leave for Port Alain whenever you wish.”

  “I can’t leave until I’m certain Gwynn is safely out of danger.”

  Maylen appeared at my side, braids neat and tidy, her fresh young face scarlet from scrubbing. “The fever is already leaving him. He is all right.”

  “Still—” I shrugged, uneasy at the thought of abandoning the boy. “I’d feel better if he were awake himself to tell me that. It’s not that I don’t believe you,” I reassured Maylen, “but, well, he’s my responsibility as much as I’m his.” I growled at Anders’s smug smile at that particular admission. “And besides,” I argued with the young scout, whose face was bland, “Khrista’s baby isn’t due for six more weeks.”

  “Without horses, we have barely enough time if the baby’s the slightest bit early.” Anders stood behind me and massaged the tension from my neck. “But if you’d rather wait and babysit your little brother, I’ll stay with you.”

  Maylen tugged at my cloak when I tried to swat Anders. “I promise you Gwynn will be all right. He would not dare prove me wrong.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “I am. Now go. I will tell him you wept endlessly at his bedside.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “Thank the lords of the sea, you’re back.” Jules raked tense fingers through disheveled light brown hair when we appeared on the road. He’d been waiting for us since morning at the fork that led south to the manor, having gotten word from one of Jackson’s band who detoured through Port Alain. “Khrista started labor hours ago. At least, that’s what your stepmother said.”

  “It’s too early for the child,” Anders protested in vain, as Jules spun his nervous horse around, nearly running over Jackson in his haste. “Alex, wait! Damn it, wait for me.”

  But I couldn’t, and mounted behind Jules as he urged his horse up the long winding road to the manor house. A young stablehand grabbed the reins as I bolted from the mount’s glistening back and flew up the stairs to Khrista’s chambers.

  “Alex.” Sernyn Keltie jumped from his seat next to Lauryn by the blazing fireplace in Khrista’s sitting room. He grabbed my hands and held me still as I caught my breath. “Her labor started this morning, some ten hours ago, but it has been a slow, painful process. The child would not wait, but now that labor has started, she is quite stubborn and determined to escape.”

  “She?”

  Sernyn smiled as Lauryn squeezed between us and embraced me. “Definitely a girl child. Anessa discovered that weeks ago, but Khrista is in wrenching pain.” His eyes darkened as I squeezed his fingers tight, knowing both of us were overwhelmed by memories of my mother.

  “Still no sign of magic?”

  He shook his head. “I wish there would be. At least then she might exert some control over the child.”

  “Can I see her?”

  “Yes, of course. She has been asking for you.” He released my hands, but held me back as I turned toward Khrista’s bedchamber. “Are you all right? This childbirth will be difficult for you.”

  “I’ll have to be all right, won’t I? Besides, it’s worse for Khrista.” At the sound of boots pounding up the stairs, I added, “There’s a mage from Spreebridge journeying with us. Talk to him. And—” I hesitated, unable to meet his damnable perceptive eyes.

  “There is something wrong.” Not a trace of judgment in his voice, but yet he knew all the same, and braced himself for the bad news. “Is it Gwynn?”

  “He was hurt protecting me.” I glanced up with hesitation, found myself saying with pride and heartache, “He saved my life. I didn’t want to leave him behind, but Maylen promised he’d be all right. She said he wouldn’t dare not be.”

  “Ah.” His eyes filled with loving concern for Gwynn and loving concern mixed with bemusement for me. “Then he will be.”

  “Sernyn—”

  “If you are going to say you are sorry for what I know in truth you would have done for Gwynn had your positions been changed, I will surely lose my patience.” At my guilty expression, he sighed with exaggerated drama. “Go see Khrista. She has been asking for you all day.”

  Speechless at his reprimand, I didn’t bother to reply and crept into the master bedroom. Damp hair plastered to her forehead, Khrista seemed to be asleep, or at least resting. Clutching Kerrie’s hand in a crushing grip, she lay very still. Anessa and Rosanna, speaking in the far corner, rose together as I shut the door behind me. Rosanna’s hug was fierce, and frightened. Anessa hesitated, a question in her eyes.

  “Gwynn was hurt protecting me,” I blurted, all thoughtful consideration swept away as I blinked back tears. “Maylen is nursing him.”

  Anessa met my worried gaze evenly. “He went along to protect you, Alex. I am not surprised that it happened.” She shrugged as though his battle wound was of no consequence, though I knew better than that.

  “I should have been protecting him.”

  “My son does not seem to see it quite that way.” Anessa’s smile was warm. “And as long as he is under Maylen’s care, he will be all right.” When I started to protest, she repeated, “He will be all right. Gwynn would not dare disappoint his elder sister or Maylen Stockrie.” She squeezed my arm in gentle reassurance.

  I smiled back, knowing I wouldn’t win this argument, not with Anessa, or Sernyn either. “How is Khrista?” I kept my voice low.

  “Suffering,” the healer apologized, as though it were her fault. “We cannot seem to ease her pain.”

  “There’s a mage from Spreebridge with us.” As Anessa’s dark eyebrows inched up with interest, I explained, “He has a draught that blocks mage talent. It’s very dangerous, but—” I looked at Khrista’s sleeping form. Turning back to meet Rosanna’s gaze, I said quietly, “It’s dangerous. The amount of potion to still the baby’s raw talent might kill the child. Or hurt Khrista. I thought you should know if things become desperate, and we need to make a decision.”

  Rosanna caught the edge of my cloak as I approached the bed. “Should you be here?”

  “You mean, can I handle this?”

  The old witch didn’t blink. “Well, yes.”

  I tossed my cloak on the armchair behind me. “As I just told Sernyn,” —I kept my expression neutral beneath Anessa’s quiet scrutiny— “I’ll have to, won’t I?” Rosanna didn’t say anything further as I went to the bedside and knelt by Kerrie, touching his arm to let him know I was there.

  Khrista’s eyes fluttered open, and widened as she recognized me. “Alex. I’ve been waiting for you.” Her voice was hoarse, her smile weak, but still there.

  “I didn’t plan to wake you.”

  “I wasn’t sleeping.” She
squeezed Kerrie’s hand as a spasm gripped her abdomen. As though it never happened, she went on. “I thought you’d never get here.”

  “And I thought you’d wait for me.”

  “My daughter was impatient.” As she flinched in pain yet again, Kerrie threw me a despairing look.

  “Then she has your beastly temperament. Let’s get something straight,” I said with firmness. “You’d better show her who’s in charge before you send the little imp into my schoolroom. Particularly if she behaves like Carey.”

  Khrista laughed softly, eyes closed, as the door opened and Lauryn slid into the room. Anessa sent me a guarded look and went out, presumably to speak to Jackson and Anders.

  Lauryn stood by Kerrie’s shoulder, one hand resting on his bowed head. “Why don’t you get something to eat?”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  Lauryn tugged at a lock of his hair. “Once your daughter decides she’s ready to come out, you won’t have a chance to eat. Now go. Jules is waiting for you. Hurry before he and Anders devour everything in sight.” She winked at me. “From what I hear, when Anders travels, he has the appetite of three ravenous whales.”

  “Go.” Khrista released her grip and waved him from the room. She smiled when he had finally gone, and heaved a deep sigh. “Men.”

  I laughed and took Kerrie’s seat. “I know what you mean. Between Anders and Gwynn and Jackson—”

  “Who?”

  “A mage we picked up along the way.”

  “A mage with incredible green eyes,” Lauryn cut in with a lusty grin, handing me a glass of Marain Valley wine from the bottle sitting on the nearby table. “Indecent, really.”

  “You’re not kidding.” I sipped the wine, my parched throat grateful for the liquid.

  As time dragged on, I tried to distract Khrista and let them speculate and gossip about Jackson, tossing in a controversial comment when necessary. I unobtrusively nudged my magic awake, merging the fire and ice into familiar cool warmth. Tentatively, I tried to sense the child, but she was devious, a true Barlow, and not one to welcome intrusion. It took long silence and patience, but finally, finally, I found the little beast.

  There.

  Lords of the sea, she flung out her raw talent, as I had done to my own mother. Reacting with my heart, I blinked back a tear as Rosanna, caught by the subtle change in my expression, studied my face. Ignoring the question in her eyes, I tried to soothe the child as I had tried to soothe the renegade woman at Edgecliff. Not that I had helped her, me efforts instead only inflamed her. But maybe for Khrista, it’d be different. I held my breath, reaching out with the cool warmth that tingled through me. I gasped uncontrollably and shut my eyes tight as the child lashed out in furious denial, prompting a moan from Khrista.

  “Alex.” Lauryn knelt beside me, peering into my face with undisguised concern as I opened my eyes.

  “Your niece doesn’t like to be pushed around.” I forced a smile as I turned to Khrista. “Sorry, I thought I’d try to be polite and make her acquaintance.” Feigning the need to stretch, I stood up and placed my wine glass, forgotten in my hand, on the low table near the bed. “I’ll be right back. Since none of you thought to ask if I were hungry,” I said dryly, “I’ll have to take care of myself. Not that there’ll be anything left.” At Khrista’s brave smile, I went to find some help and snuggled gratefully into Anders’s welcoming embrace. “The baby doesn’t like to be pushed around.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I tried to soothe her to see if I could control the way she lashed out with that mage talent of hers.” I murmured in contentment as Anders massaged the tension from my shoulders.

  “Didn’t work?”

  “She wasn’t impressed.” I shook my head. “Stubborn child fought right back.” I peeked out at Jules. “That’s definitely Barlow blood.”

  Jackson cleared his throat. “What if three of us tried to control her together?”

  “I was hoping you’d say that.”

  “Well, then.” Anders kissed my neck. “Let’s try.”

  I led them back inside, introduced Khrista to the Spreebridge mage.

  “Oh.” Khrista smoothed back her damp hair at the first sight of Jackson’s handsome face. “Oh my.”

  “Indeed.” I grinned at Lauryn, when Khrista smoothed the damp sheet over her swollen abdomen. “We’re going to try to restrain that willful, stubborn child of yours,” I explained, adding in apology, “but she may protest.”

  Khrista took hold of Anders’s outstretched hand as Jackson and I settled together on either side of the bed, coaxing the magic awake one by one. I was conscious of Sernyn and Anessa sitting quietly at Rosanna’s side. When I felt that Anders and Jackson were ready, I nodded, focusing magic gently on the child, flinching against her fiery lashes, thrusts of magic that grew stronger and bolder and wilder. Anders sent me a guarded look, but I ignored him until Khrista cried out sharply in pain. As one, we abandoned the effort.

  “Stubborn little wretch,” I muttered to Khrista as Lauryn wiped perspiration from her sister-in-law’s face. “That trait comes from your mother.” I winked at Khrista, grateful she could still smile though the pains were coming faster and stronger.

  “I’ll ignore that, Alex,” Rosanna said so loudly I knew she was putting on a brave front for her daughter.

  “I’ve never spoken anything but the truth,” I said, taking noting of Sernyn’s distressed expression. “Be right back.” I patted Khrista’s hand and dragged him away from the two women. “Should you be here?”

  “Do you mean,” he said gravely, “can I handle this?”

  As I swore with a vicious oath, his eyebrows rose in amazement. “Does that old witch tell you everything?”

  His smile was mischievous, rather uncharacteristic, considering our fragile relationship. “Only what she thinks I should know. Still, Alex,” —he caught my hand in his and admitted the truth— “I would rather be anywhere else but here, but I will stay in case I am needed.”

  “You’ve done enough.”

  He shrugged, looking as weary as I felt. “It is not over yet. She may have need of me somehow.”

  “All right.” At the piercing cry behind me, I broke free and ran back to the bedside. Khrista’s face was distorted in agony as the baby fought her way free and flexed her magic.

  “Help me, Alex.” Khrista was crying softly now, clutching Anders’s hand so tight his knuckles were white. “Alex!”

  I turned to Jackson. “Get the feyweed ready.” When he glanced at Anders and then back at me, I snapped, “Do it! If we need it, we’ll at least have it ready.”

  “It’s not your decision to make,” Anders said, for my hearing alone, cool seagray eyes stern with warning.

  “I won’t see her die like my mother,” I whispered, blinking hard to keep back my own tears. I held Khrista’s other hand, aware Anessa had gone out with Jackson, aware of Rosanna inching closer to the bed, and fully aware of Anders’s magic trying with quiet desperation to calm the child. “Khrista—” Finding courage, I pushed a damp strand of hair from her forehead. “Listen to me.” Eyes closed tight, she squeezed my hand. “We may be able to block the child’s talent with a draught.” I met Kerrie’s eyes as he entered behind Jackson and Anessa.

  “Will it harm her?” Khrista’s voice was shaky and hoarse with exhaustion, but clear. “Will it? Tell me the truth, Alex.”

  I looked at Sernyn across the width of the chamber. At the sight of his tears, I buried my own. No time.

  “Alex…”

  “We don’t know. It may harm her. It may—” I couldn’t go on.

  “Coward.” Khrista clutched my hand so hard I whimpered. “Don’t lie to me now, Alex. You’ve never lied before. Don’t start now.”

  Traitorous tears had a will of their own. I couldn’t stop them. “It might kill her,” I whispered in misery.

  Khrista fixed me with a grave look, an expression in her eyes that needed no words. “Then promise me you won’t give it
to me.”

  Kerrie rushed over, frantic. “Listen to me, then.” He took his wife’s sweating hand from mine. “I want you safe. We’ll have other children.”

  Khrista seemed oblivious to her husband’s pleading as she kept her eyes locked on mine. “Promise me.”

  “I can’t,” I whispered, unable to take that oath. “Damn it, Khrista, my mother never had a fighting chance, but you do.”

  “I do, too.” She screamed so suddenly I thought the child had pushed herself free without our help, but Khrista’s face was, well, odd. She was straining to catch her breath, confusion clear in her eyes. “Alex.” Her voice held a peculiar mixture of wonder and fear and hope.

  I leaned forward as she beckoned me closer, catching a hint of another mage talent. “Lords of the sea, I don’t believe it.”

  Anders’s eyes widened as he recognized what I had felt. Grinning from ear to ear, he gripped Khrista’s hand in encouragement. “Easy. Remember what Sernyn taught you.”

  At the sound of his name, Sernyn watched in confusion, until he too, recognized what had happened. He flew to the bed and took Khrista’s hand from Anders, placing his free hand on mine. “Remember what I taught you. Focus on the sharp sting and force it gently, easily, to a comfortable level inside you.” As Khrista cried out again, he spoke gentle and reassuring words to her over and over as she fixed her eyes on his, trusting him implicitly.

  I watched in amazement as the full pitcher of water at her bedside evaporated to steam. “A flameblasted seamage,” I muttered. “That’s all we need in this house.”

  Sernyn grinned with pride at Khrista, distracting her from the baby’s protests. “Calm your daughter,” he urged.

  She turned frightened eyes to me, and then back to him. “I’m afraid.”

  “Nothing to fear,” he said with confidence. “Just show her who you are. You can do it, and we shall all help.”

  Struggling, sweating, crying, and gasping for breath, Khrista eased the ferocity with which her daughter unleashed her talent. As she did so, Anders, Jackson, and I blanketed the baby with soothing calm over and above her mother’s touch. It was not so very long before Kerrie cried out he could see the child’s head. And not so very long after that we heard a loud shrieking wail from the defiant little girl plucked from a warm womb by Anessa’s skilled hands.