Mage Confusion (Book 1)

by Virginia G. McMorrow

  Telling Rosanna fell to me, too.

  I watched her from the doorway to her sitting room. Busy writing some correspondence, she hadn't heard me come in. Given our last conversation, I knew she wouldn't ignore my presence. “I'm taking my demons with me to Ardenna. Elena needs all the help she can get, even if it’s offered by an unreliable, third-rate apprentice mage.”

  Her pen froze in mid-stroke as she looked up, brushing a gray-streaked strand of hair from her face. She waited, letting my words sink in.

  “Well,” I said with forced lightness, “I can't very well leave them with you, can I?”

  Rosanna put the pen down, eyes sad with old grief and failure. I was poised to flee, but scrounged around for every bit of courage and stayed.

  “Rosanna, I'm sorry.”

  Jules' mother pushed back her chair and stood shakily behind the neat desk. “There's no reason for you to apologize.”

  “You're wrong.” I crossed my arms, still leaning against the doorframe, still poised to flee. “What I said had the same effect as though I grabbed a dagger and plunged it into the heart of the one woman who spent countless years caring for me. I haven't been very grateful. I'm the one who should be sorry.”

  “No. No, Alex, please don't. You had every right to say what you did. I wish I'd known how you felt.” Her voice faltered, though she didn't look away.

  I stepped away from the doorway. “I don't feel that way, Rosanna. I never did. It's just my life's turned into complete chaos, and I don't know what to think anymore. What I really wanted to tell you is you raised a loving, responsible woman.”

  Orphan child.

  “It's just she's a little reluctant and has to be nudged from time to time to remember what she was taught.”

  “Oh, Alex,” Rosanna cried, coming around to embrace me, “I knew what kind of woman I raised. I know it hasn't always been easy for you. When you stay away, I don't begrudge you that distance.”

  I hugged her tight and stepped back, a sly expression on my face. “Did Jules tell you of his, ah, mishap?”

  Wiping tears from her eyes, she chuckled with open wickedness. “That was well done, very well done. Actually, Lauryn came running with the news before Jules arrived. I wasn't very sympathetic when Jules complained. He expressed a very strong opinion of my lack of tact.”

  “I can well imagine.”

  “Are you really going to Ardenna?”

  “I'd rather not. I've been there too often.”

  She arched one brow with practiced ease. “Recently?”

  “Very.”

  Rosanna appraised me again, thoughtful. “May I ask why?”

  “I was gathering information,” I said dryly, refusing to explain my visits. It was good to keep the old seawitch on her toes from time to time. “Lauryn said she'd keep the children busy for me until I return. She's already used to it,” I added, before Rosanna could sneak in her own nasty comment.

  She laughed, appreciating my tactic. “Is Anders going with you?”

  “I haven't decided.”

  “I forgot. Just because you're a loving, responsible woman doesn't mean you're sensible.”

  “Don't you think your expectations are a bit high?”

  “I suppose they are. But then I forget the monster I raised.”

  “You shouldn't speak of Jules like that,” I scolded, turning to leave. “He's not here to defend himself.”

  * * * *

  “I just thought I'd tell you if you don't let me travel with you to Ardenna, I'll just tag along anyway.” Anders led his horse into the clearing behind the cottage, saddled, packed, and ready to leave.

  It was the first real conversation we'd had since the day I'd slammed him unconscious against the oak. I studied him before saddling my own horse, a sturdy animal Jules let me borrow. To get to the city all the faster, he'd said with an infuriating grin, before I changed my mind. With a final, resigned glance at the cottage, I mounted my horse, and steadied the restless beast beneath me.

  “Rosanna told me about Seamage Brandt.”

  “We had a pleasant conversation.”

  “Did—”

  “Of course I didn't tell him about you.”

  “That wasn't what I was going to ask.” I flushed scarlet. “I wanted to know if he hurt you.”

  Anders shook his head. “Just warned me to stay out of trouble and wanted to know why I was back in Port Alain.”

  “What'd you tell him?”

  Anders’ grin was impish. “I was determined to bed you.”

  “There goes my reputation.”

  “I believe it was already somewhat muddied.”

  “Did you disapprove of Jules' mishap? Or was that justified vengeance?”

  Anders laughed openly, sea-gray eyes changing to a lighter hue. “I'd say Jules had it coming.”

  “Then watch yourself, old man.” I gathered the reins loosely in my hands. “If you misbehave just once on this journey, just once, I'll find something nasty for you, too.”

  “Rosanna warned me to be cautious.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Apparently, Rosanna didn't warn him about everything.

  “You're going where?” he asked, mouth open in utter disbelief. “In the middle of the night, you intend to knock on Elena's bedchamber door?” Sitting on the lumpy mattress in his adjoining room, Anders stared at me as though I were mad.

  “Sure.”

  “I think the fire and ice in your head has destroyed what little common sense you had.”

  “Trust me.” I laughed from my comfortable position leaning against the wall. “Elena will absolutely appreciate the gesture.”

  “Not if she's, ah, entertaining a gentleman.”

  “It won't be as amusing if she's not.”

  Anders refused to let me go alone, even though he still believed me a little crazy. “I'm impressed,” he whispered, amazed at the ease with which we passed from guard to guard with the sealed message bearing Jules' Port Alain crest.

  Elena's guard was reluctant to disturb his monarch at such a horrendous hour and present her with a bottle of Marain wine as I requested, despite Jules' influence. Eventually, he ushered us into the queen’s modest, though tasteful, private parlor.

  “I didn't realize Jules had so much clout.”

  “He doesn't deserve it.”

  “Jealous?” Cool eyes, very much alert and curious despite the lateness of the hour, twinkled with undisguised wickedness.

  “Not in the least.” I stopped the rest of my comment as the guard returned.

  With a bemused air, the guard bowed with deep respect. “Her majesty will see you now.”

  Anders shot me an appreciative glance as we passed through the carved door into a larger, empty chamber which reflected Elena's simple, elegant taste.

  “I should have known it was you.”

  I jumped, having thought the room was empty. But Elena, black hair a bit disheveled, was standing in a shadowed corner of the chamber, a curious expression on her face. She kept her tone light, cautious, probably fearing, as Rosanna had, I'd run away.

  “Did we interrupt anything?” I asked with suitable blandness and a suggestive nod in the direction of her bedchamber.

  Elena laughed, blue eyes flashing in appreciation. “Vengeance?”

  “Sure. And a bribe to go with it.” I pointed to the wine bottle she held.

  “Not to mention a rather interesting companion.” She appraised Anders from the top of his gray-streaked hair to his well-worn boots. “Indeed.”

  “Her royal majesty, Elena Dunneal, beloved monarch of Tuldamoran, gracious and compassionate ruler of all that is wise and noble—”

  “Alex—”

  “Anders Perrin, majesty.” The old seamage cut in with the barest hint of amusement in his eyes as he knelt.

  “The infamous Master Perrin.” Elena coaxed Anders to his feet, eying him with renewed interest. “Well, it doesn't matter Alex has no manners and comes barging into my private quarters in
the middle of the night. I'd never do such a thing.” She laughed, though I saw the hint of doubt that flashed in her eyes. “But since you're here, the least I can do is be gracious and accept the bribe.” She uncorked the bottle and pointed me in the direction of some clean glasses.

  “You see how controlled she is, Anders? She hasn't asked why we're here.”

  “Not yet.” Elena handed me a glass of the rich Marain wine. “By the way, how much of this wine did you bring?”

  “If I confess, you'll raid my gear. I don't trust you. Besides, you have your own wine steward.” I raised my glass, all banter gone, fighting the compelling urge to flee. “To old friends.”

  Elena exchanged a long, questioning glance with me and nodded, apparently satisfied at what she read in my eyes. “To old friends, Alex. And,” she added, with a warm smile for Anders, “to new friends.” Taking a generous sip, she grabbed embroidered pillows and tossed them onto the sculptured carpets.

  “Well, old man.” I turned to Anders. “You're free to sit in that armchair if it's better for your creaking bones.”

  Anders put his cloak aside, threw me a disgusted look, and proceeded to sit opposite Elena on the floor, biting his lower lip to stifle a groan.

  “Don't complain to me about your injured knee.”

  “It's your fault.”

  “You provoked me—and admitted it.”

  “If you hadn't been so damn stubborn—” He stopped, embarrassed, at Elena's thoughtful expression. “Forgive me, majesty, but she has a distinct skill at sticking a knife under one's skin and hitting the most sensitive nerve with exquisite precision.”

  Elena composed her face to avoid insulting Anders, but a hint of amusement crept through and she started to laugh. “So I've noticed. Well, then, Alex, to use your own words, why are you here? Not that I'm not glad to see you, of course.”

  “Of course,” I said, remembering her visit a lifetime ago. “It's rather a long story.”

  Elena looked over her shoulder in the direction of her bedchamber. “I don't exactly have a reason to run back to bed.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Me, too, but I do have a large supply of Marain wine, should we find the need.” She fixed me with curious dark blue eyes, resting her chin on one slender hand. “I know how much you despise coming here. And worse, how angry you were at me.”

  “Was I angry?” Matching her shy smile, I pushed aside the memory of Elena's grief, even now alive between us, and settled down for a long tale. “Do you remember when we were children, and I changed the chair poor Jules was sitting on to a puddle of water?”

  * * * *

  Not only did we finish the bottle of Marain wine I'd brought, but we drained two more with practiced ease. Talking was thirsty work. So was listening.

  Elena leaned back against the pillows when I reached the end of my tale. “What you're offering me is a rather unique Crownmage-like talent, significantly different, incompletely trained, thoroughly unreliable without the pendant clasped in your hand for luck, and utterly unknown as far as limitations?” Blue eyes danced in a face that had been desperate for comforting news.

  “More or less.”

  “That's so typical of you.”

  I didn't take the slightest insult. “I didn't want to disappoint you.”

  Her expression subtly changed, somber as she looked away, and then back again, hearing the old grief-stricken words in a different tone. “You didn't. I know how difficult it was for you to come here. I know how much I hurt you. I promised to stay away, and I did. But it wasn't easy for me either, knowing how you felt.” Elena toyed with the Dunneal ring on her finger. “I meant what I said about our friendship, with or without mage talent. To think you believed—” She shut her eyes, sighing.

  I tugged at the sleeve of her silk robe until she looked at me. “I only believed it when I was angry. I knew better, but I resisted for a long time.”

  “You are stubborn.”

  Shrugging, I stifled a yawn. “If you had to listen to Jules and Rosanna and this old cranky beast, you'd give in sooner or later, too.”

  “If they yelled and screamed and threatened until the seas boiled over,” she countered, “you wouldn't be here if you didn't want to be.”

  “Which is why you didn't force me to practice on Jules all those years ago.” That point caught her attention. “And you didn't force me now. I could have refused.”

  “But you didn't. Why not?”

  Orphan child reared her lonely head again. “I didn't want to disappoint you.”

  Elena blinked. “Didn't you say that moments ago?”

  “When we were children, I practiced on Jules because I was afraid you wouldn’t be my friend,” I admitted, surprising her. “But now, well, I'm here because I know it's where I should be. If you keep talking about it, I might change my mind.”

  “That’s why Jules let us borrow horses,” Anders chimed in. “The faster to speed Alex on her way north should she reconsider.”

  “I don’t blame him.”

  “You wouldn’t.” I squinted at the early dawn light coming in through the window. “Elena, I'm exhausted and witless, and you're drunk.”

  “Queens are never drunk,” Anders interrupted with a semi-courteous bow in Elena's direction, as he staggered to his feet. “They're weary and overwhelmed by an abundance of good food and drink, perhaps, but never, ever drunk.”

  Elena studied him with a bemused expression. “I think Anders and I are going to get along rather well.”

  “Then please take him off my hands. I've been trying to get rid of him for months.”

  She laughed as she caught sight of Anders' indignant expression. As Elena rose to her feet with an uncharacteristic lack of grace, Anders hastened to assist her. “You know, there's something to be said for older men. Not that you're old,” she apologized, “but Jules would've reached out and shoved me right over.”

  Anders laughed and stepped back as I slapped away his proffered hand.

  “Will you stay in Ardenna awhile?”

  “Absolutely not. Besides, I have more freedom and privacy in Port Alain to experiment. If I try anything here, I'm afraid I'll have Firemage Ravess and his three companions breathing down my neck. But you know where to find me.”

  She placed a hand on my arm and squeezed. “I am grateful, Alex. Despite being whatever it is Anders said meant drunk. But never forget I'm grateful.” Elena hugged me tight for a brief moment. I didn't fight her, but embraced her back. Turning to Anders, she said with an impish tone, “I trust you to keep her out of trouble. And make sure she doesn't dream anything nasty to try on me for vengeance. You wouldn't teach her anything like that, but I know Alex.”

  “I wouldn't let her near you, majesty, if she had any mischief in mind.”

  Elena, disheveled and exhausted, and quite drunk, despite Anders' courteous words to the contrary, still managed to look every bit the monarch. “Be nice to him, Alex. I like him.”

  “You're sure you don't need an extra seamage?”

  “No.” She shook her head, an unreadable expression in her dark blue eyes that reminded me of Lauryn. “I think he's better suited to Port Alain.”

  * * * *

  “Whatever has put you in such a snit?” Anders asked as we made our way south through the Marain Valley the next afternoon.

  “You, Master Perrin, have a very poor and annoying habit.” I guided my horse back toward the center of the road.

  “If I only have one poor and annoying habit, I consider myself fortunate.”

  “You manage to weasel yourself into the good graces of everyone who makes my life difficult.”

  “You mean I charm your friends into liking me?”

  “Charm? Friends?” With a muttered curse, I pushed my horse into a gallop and slowed when my instinct suspected he wasn't following. I brought my horse to a standstill and turned around, shading my eyes against the bright sun. He'd stopped a ways behind me at the crossroads I'd just ridden past. Vexed, I ro
de back the way I had come. “What is the problem? We go south. You can't possibly be lost.”

  “Wouldn't a side trip west be a good idea?” he suggested in a neutral voice, inclining his gray-streaked head in the direction the sun was following.

  “West? Why? Oh—” As I sputtered he grabbed the reins as I started to edge my horse away. “Absolutely not.”

  “You've offered Elena your talent. Don't you think it wise to try to find your father's people and see if they can provide any clues? At least, you owe it to my aching knees to find out anything you can and save me from any more of your damaging wind gusts.”

  “For that very reason, I'd avoid Glynnswood altogether.”

  “Admit it makes a fair amount of sense.”

  “Maybe. But I don't have to like it.”

  “I don't care if you like it or not. But you do have to come with me.”

  “Beastly old man,” I grumbled, turning my horse around and snatching the reins from his hands.

  “At least Elena likes me,” he said with an irritating smirk before taking off in the direction of Glynnswood, not bothering to see if I followed.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “Waste of time to follow you,” I grumbled as we cantered down a quiet, well-traveled back road in the foothills of the Bitteredge Mountains. Due west and halfway between Ardenna and Port Alain lay Glynnswood. It was somewhat independent in a peaceful sort of way, a duchy of her royal majesty Elena, Queen of the World. In keeping with her royal predecessors, however, Elena chose to leave it somewhat independent in its peaceful sort of way. Glynnswood preferred to resolve its own troubles, and the Crown obliged.

  “You may think we're wasting time,” Anders said, scratching his chin, “but I've the distinct feeling we've been watched all day.”

  I spun in my saddle to face him. “You felt it, too?” I kept my own counsel as we first entered the deep forests of Glynnswood, convinced it was only my imagination, though instinct was fast persuading me otherwise.

  “I think we can't find the people of Glynnswood because they don't want to be found.”

  “It doesn't make you uneasy to know we're being watched?” I asked in amazement, shifting to a more comfortable position as my horse sidestepped a fallen branch. My gaze darted left and right, seeking any hint of watchers through the dense foliage.