Mage Confusion (Book 1)

by Virginia G. McMorrow

  “He’s got a certain amount of responsibility toward her as duke.”

  “I know all that.”

  “Then why not let it rest?”

  Lauryn’s slender body went rigid, though she didn’t answer right away. “I try, Alex. You don’t know how hard I try, but every time he goes north—” She spun on her heels to face me. “For Elena, nothing ever happened. I don’t hold it against her, that wouldn’t be fair. She didn’t ask him to fall in love with her. But Jules will always love her. I can’t change that.”

  “He loves you.”

  “Yes.” She smiled, as though I were the one in need of reassurance. “Yes, he does. But it’s different. I’m not blind, Alex. If Elena wanted him now, offered herself to him, Jules wouldn’t hesitate.”

  “You’re so wrong.”

  “Alex,” she laughed, a sound echoing old heartaches, “you’re so naïve.”

  * * * *

  Days later, fire and ice pierced every inch of my head. The magic sent slivers of pain through the rest of my body all the way down to my toes as I lost my concentration; still worried about Lauryn.

  “Stop insisting it’s going to work. Go away.”

  “You're not letting it work.”

  “I'm not letting it work?” I searched for something to fling at Anders’ head.

  “You're using Emila's pendant as a good luck charm. Let it go. You should be able to perform the same feats without using it.”

  “I can't.”

  “You won't.” He ducked as a pillow slammed into the wall behind him. “You're afraid to let go and stand on your own two feet.”

  “Go away. Rosanna needs help in her gardens doing something dirty and muddy.” I turned my back on him.

  “It's after supper and early winter. I think Lady Barlow prefers to do her gardening in the daylight, not to mention the spring and summer.” He crept behind me. “That's so she can tell the frost-free weeds from her precious ferns.” He stroked the back of my neck beneath my hair, careful to stay clear of the thin scar on my neck.

  “Stop that.” I reached back to smack his hand away.

  “You can do it,” he whispered into my ear, fingers sneaking back to my neck. “You just have to try harder.” When I moved forward to get away from him, he held me back against his chest. Lips replaced fingers, caressing my neck.

  “Stop that. If you don't, then I won't stay angry with you. And I'd much rather stay angry with you.”

  “I know. We'll talk about the pendant later. I'd prefer you in a different frame of mind right now.”

  * * * *

  Trust Anders to play games. Talk about the pendant reared its ugly head from an entirely different, though not unexpected, source.

  “You never really told me what happened in Glynnswood.”

  “Why bother repeating what Anders already told you in sordid detail?”

  “I want to hear it from you.”

  I sat back against the pillows in the armchair closest the fireplace in Rosanna's suite, feet stretched toward the blaze, grateful for the warmth. “You must hear the shouting from your balcony every time we argue about this sore topic. I don't want to discuss it.”

  “You owe me at least one discussion,” she persisted, stretching to pour me another glass of Marain wine. “I'm not quite sure why, Alex, but you do.”

  Sighing, I tugged my scuffed boots off and tossed them aside. “So you can defend Sernyn Keltie's actions?” Sernyn. Not Father. Never again Father.

  “I have no intention of defending him. I understand what he did, and why he did it, and I honored my promise to him all these years.”

  “But he put you in a rather awkward position,” I finished, with a crooked smile, accepting with thanks the glass she held out to me.

  “Well, yes. But I'm not concerned about Sernyn. I'm concerned about you.”

  “Of course.”

  “Don't be so smug. It's horrid enough you blamed yourself for Emila's death, still do. Now you've got to deal with a father who abandoned you all these years.”

  “I don't have to deal with Sernyn because he was never a father to me, with the exception of making my mother pregnant.”

  “He always wanted to hear about you.”

  “Not with such desperation he'd come back and admit he'd been wrong. No, Rosanna,” I repeated with emphasis, wagging a finger, “he didn't want to deal with me, and I don't want to deal with him.”

  “It's affecting your mage talent.”

  “Pardon me?”

  Rosanna studied her pudgy fingers, twirling the half-empty glass in her hands until I started to laugh. “What?” she demanded, looking aggrieved.

  “It's difficult to see you hesitant, rather out of character.”

  The old fire came back to her eyes. “I'm afraid you'll turn me into something horrid.”

  “If I could, I'd have experimented on your son first. Say whatever you're thinking. I'll hear it sooner or later.”

  She played with the glass again. “If you accepted your father's heritage as part of your mage talent, you'd be able to use your gift freely without depending on your mother's copper pendant.”

  “You're so confident I presume the old man convinced you of that.”

  “As a matter of fact, we arrived at the idea separately, and found ourselves in complete agreement.”

  “How amazing. Why don't I send him here to keep you company since your relationship is so congenial.”

  “I think Anders is quite content where he is. And so are you to have him there, even though you won't admit it.” Her eyes held the same maternal satisfaction I'd seen in Lauryn's blue eyes when I'd confessed all.

  “I only keep him there to prevent Jules from finding me a husband.”

  “Yes.” She raised a glass in a mocking salute. “Of course. No honest affection between you and Anders. That's good, Alex. After all, we wouldn't want you to resemble anything faintly human.” When I reached for my boots in disgust, Rosanna stretched out a hand to stop me. “Anders did tell me about your encounter with Firemage Ravess.” Her eyes traveled in concern to my neck, though strands of hair covered the scar from her sight. “And Elena.”

  I looked away, fists clenched at my side.

  “Like it or not, your father's affecting your life.”

  “I don't like it.”

  She didn't answer for a moment, then rummaged in her pocket and offered me the envelope she’d pulled free. The neat handwriting that scrawled my name across the envelope was unfamiliar. Curious, I took it and sliced the seal in half. Too late. Instincts screaming, it was too late. My eyes swiftly scanned the contents in cold fury.

  Alex-

  Forgive my presumption in writing to you, particularly about something of which I am ignorant. It is none of my affair, truly. I know. But I fear you will make my mistake and run from your talent. Please do not. Face your gift as I never had the courage to do. Face it, and use it as best you can to the fullest extent you can. Do not ever let it control you, as it did me.

  Sernyn Keltie

  Hand trembling with rage, I crumpled the letter and flung it across the room.

  “All right, then. Listen.” Rosanna's voice was calm. “All I wanted to say was I'm here if you need to talk.” When I tugged my boots on without responding, she added quietly, “It's the same for all of us, what Elena said, but you know that. And Alex,” I stopped stuffing trousers into my boots and looked into Rosanna's loving face, caught by her wistful tone. “I'm glad Anders is with you.”

  I started to say something light, inconsequential, but chose not to, without understanding why. I headed for the door, avoiding the crumpled letter, and stopped.

  “So am I.”

  Chapter Thirty

  I was glad Anders was with me to face the coming nightmare.

  “Where's our glorious monarch?” I asked Rosanna some days later, glancing around the manor's seldom-used, semi-formal chamber to see who was gathered for an audience with the queen. I'd sent Anders up the H
ill alone earlier in the day, promising to arrive after Elena's unplanned meeting with Jules and his Port Alain advisors ended.

  Elena had come for me, and I needed the time alone.

  Jules was lodged in a quiet corner with Anders, engaged in serious talk I had every intention of avoiding. Khrista and Lauryn, in the far corner by the overstuffed bookcases, caught my eye and waved a greeting. I waved back, noting Kerrie standing shyly by the window, digesting all we’d told him over the past few days.

  “She's kidnapped her beloved heir,” Rosanna replied, “and dragged him off to find a corner so they could speak in privacy.”

  “Did the twins behave?” I asked Lauryn as she and Khrista joined us, all three ladies wearing their finest meet-Elena-formally-in-Port-Alain clothes. I chose a fancier version of my usual tunic and trousers, adding a soft leather vest, knowing Elena would appreciate the gesture.

  If she'd come looking for a Mage Champion, she'd get one.

  “Brendan threatened the boys with imprisonment in the deepest dungeons of Ardenna if they didn't. But truly,” Lauryn answered, with more than a trace of maternal pride in her eyes, “I'm not sure who was the more charmed, Elena or the boys.” And beyond that pride was an honest affection for Elena, despite the lingering uncertainty about her husband's long-held desire which never quite left Lauryn in peace. Elena possessed an infuriating talent for gathering loyalty and affection, despite whether one chose to offer either.

  As the huge double doors swung open again, Anders sent me a thoughtful nod. Without discussing a word, he understood and respected my instinctive fears this morning and left me alone.

  Elena sauntered in, arm in arm with Brendan. Close together, they were so alike, almost twins, but for their age difference. Her glance darted around the room, openly relieved at the sight of me.

  “Alex.”

  “Majesty.” I bowed my head in a mockery of court formality. “And enlightened, all-wise monarch of the kingdom of Tuldamoran and everything from the shores of our beautiful—”

  “Stop that.” Releasing Brendan's arm, she embraced me and then stepped back. Still holding on, she inspected every inch of me, her gaze stopping without hesitation at the thin scar at my neck.

  “I only wanted to offer appropriate tribute.”

  Elena gave me a knowing look, accepting my distraction gracefully. One hand resting on her slender hip, she turned to confront Rosanna. “I thought you taught her how to be respectful.”

  The old seawitch sighed with heavy drama and looked far too apologetic. “She's been difficult. I'm sorry. But sometimes she's too headstrong. You've no idea.”

  I looked at both of them in disgust before challenging Elena, poking her shoulder playfully with my finger. “Did you come empty-handed? If you did, you may as well mount up and head back north.”

  “Of course not.” She pointed an elegant finger, wearing the Dunneal crown ring of sapphires, to a rather large assortment of bottles of Marain wine lying in the corner behind Anders. “Even though it's not midnight, I thought we'd need a bottle.”

  “Need?”

  “Well, yes.” She released a huge sigh. “Firemage Ravess accused me of treasonous dealing with the Meravan monarchy against my own subjects. Unfortunately, there were witnesses.” She paused, gathering her thoughts, or perhaps her courage. “On behalf of the Crown Council, he issued formal Mage Challenge. The issue is my word of honorable dealing with Meravan against his false patriotic rhetoric to save Tuldamoran from my ill-intentioned rule.”

  Oh hell.

  “I'm sorry, Alex.”

  As Anders' arm rested around my waist, I shrugged. “Then perhaps Jules should open more than one bottle.”

  Rosanna took charge and hustled the others into comfortable seats. Still watching me with apology in every angle of her slender body, Elena looked up, startled. Lauryn nudged her in the direction of an armchair, though Elena only stood beside it. With an affectionate wink at me, Lauryn pointed to the pile of cushions she'd gathered in front of the fireplace next to Anders. Tamely, to her open amusement, I settled myself in the crook of his sheltering arm.

  “By Tuldamoran law, I'm obliged to send word to the Crown Council, as the Challengers, within seven days to declare my decisions for the confrontation.” Jules poured us all a glass of the rich, fruity wine as Elena explained, “As the Challenged party, I'm free to make the choice on several details. The first decision is timing.”

  “Can we postpone it for a few years?”

  “I wish we could postpone it forever. But the Challenge must be met within a month's time.”

  “Then, by all means, set it for the absolutely last hour of the last day. Well, not at night. That might be tricky. What's next?”

  “Place.”

  “A suggestion?” Anders interrupted, waiting for her nod to continue. “With Alex's unconventional talent, it might be best if she has free access to at least two sources of elements.”

  I turned to Anders and narrowed my eyes. “I presume you've been thinking about this dilemma for a bit and have a place in mind?”

  He nodded, sea-gray eyes calm and confident. I envied his confidence. “There's a small valley north of here that runs along the Kieren River.”

  “Tucker's Meadow?”

  “You'd have immediate access to both water and earth. Those you can change to flame and wind if needed. Charlton Ravess, as Firemage, will be allowed a steadily burning fire for his use so the location doesn't offer him any unexpected advantages. It's just a suggestion. It's still your choice.”

  “It's an intelligent suggestion, coming from you. Besides, it's near enough to the Marain vineyards, should I have the urge.”

  Elena laughed with forced humor. “Too near.”

  “Well, all right, I'll wait until I've defeated the firemage so it won't interfere with my concentration. What next?”

  “My representative, Alex, if you'll still do this for me.” At my immediate, grave nod of agreement, she paused before continuing. I thought she might have wanted to say something else, but changed her mind. “Ravess will be your opponent, as we expected. He wouldn't miss this opportunity to personally throw me from the throne and rub my face in the mud.”

  “Can we keep my identity secret for awhile?”

  “Up until the challenge, yes. I need only proclaim I have a champion. The rules are much nicer to the challenged party.”

  “Has any good come from the rumors we've spread?”

  Glass in hand, Elena paced around the chamber. “From what I hear in private, Ravess is unsettled, for which I'm grateful.” She stared again at the thin scar which ran along the side of my neck. “But more than that, the firemage told me in no uncertain terms you'd betrayed me and you'd tried for vengeance and failed.”

  “I'm sure he said other things.”

  Her expression was eloquent, confirming my suspicions, though she didn’t say aloud what those other things might be. “If he believed what you said…” Again, her eyes spoke volumes. “Then he’d think I wouldn’t care on a personal basis.” She stood in front of the fireplace, uncertain, but with deep apology in her eyes. “That’s why I can’t see any advantage for him to tell me except to hurt my cause in public by showing my allies could betray me.”

  “Maybe he's just growing careless?” Jules suggested from his place at Lauryn's side.

  Elena glanced at him, considering, before pacing again. “Maybe. But now he's cut off the possibility of Alex going back to him with anything else. He's always mistrusted the other council mages and fears their envy of his position. My spies tell me he's withdrawn from the other council members, destroying their effectiveness as a group, which is useful. But to be honest, I don't think he quite knows what to think.”

  “That’s useful, too,” I said.

  “Yes. And there’s more. Charlton Ravess is afraid the Crownmage, if not a council member, may still appear as my ally and fight him in the challenge. But even if the Crownmage isn't one of the council, Ravess fears
he, or she, may approach them to offer help in overthrowing Ravess as council head.”

  “With Ravess out of the picture,” Anders said, “you keep the throne.”

  “Yes, but then the council can issue Mage Challenge again if the Crownmage agrees to fight my champion. But if none of that happens, Ravess is the only one who can legitimately participate in the Mage Challenge against Alex.”

  “That goes both ways,” I said. “Once you send word of my formal acceptance, no one else can replace me or you forfeit the throne to Brendan.”

  “But if the Crownmage does exist and offers to help Elena before your participation is formal, Alex…” Lauryn’s question reflected her hope for an escape for me. “Surely the Crownmage can take your place, since no one knows the identity of the actual champion. Right?”

  “Yes, but that wouldn't be honorable,” I intervened, before Elena could answer. “Besides, for better or worse, the Crownmage doesn't matter anymore. After we spent all that time and effort arguing about it—” I stopped at the peculiar look in Anders' eyes. “What?”

  Anders’ smile was coy, but he didn't answer, at least, not directly. “Nothing of consequence, Alex. Trust me. You're right about wasted effort.”

  Not satisfied, I turned back to Elena. “Is there any way they can refuse to accept me as your champion, because I have such unconventional talent?”

  Elena shook her head, stopping in front of the window. “Not unless they forge the original rules. I checked all documents pertaining to the Mage Challenge. The same term is used throughout. 'The Crown's mage of choice.'“

  “How does it end?” I asked, gratefully accepting a small refill from Jules. It was a question I'd studiously avoided asking from the very start of this predicament weeks ago. Even though I knew the answer in my gut.

  Elena gazed out the window for long moments, dark strands of her hair catching the fading sunlight as she traced a design on the frosted glass. “It continues until one of the adversaries yields.”