“So I gathered, and you'd better. Before this idiotic Challenge starts, what were the two of you discussing with such avid interest?”
“Don't peer over your shoulder, but we think you have an admirer.”
“Me?” She sounded honestly surprised, as though no one in all Tuldamoran would ever look with favor on her. Because of Jules and that heartbreaking memory? “Is he at least handsome?”
I stifled a laugh and kept my face composed. “Full head of thick white hair, deep brown eyes, older gentleman, dressed in a black tunic.”
“Alex.”
“Honest, I'm not sure, but I think it's Lord Erich Harwoode of Barrows Pass who can't tear his eyes from you.”
Blue eyes danced in an otherwise emotionless face. “Interesting.”
“We thought so.”
“You would.”
Instinct reared its noisy head again. “At the risk of sounding too much like your nursemaid, if he is interested…” An eloquent arched brow was the only sign of her attention. “Be careful. We don't know anything about him. At least, I don't. He's only just taken over the duchy from his father.”
“Was his eye too lecherous? It'd be nice for a change.”
I shook my head, dismissing her jest. “I don't know. Just be careful.”
“We'll discuss your instinct after you humiliate Ravess.” She stopped my protest, blue eyes abruptly grim. “I can still forfeit the Challenge. It's not too late.”
“And ruin my chances of stealing some Marain wine from your overflowing wine cellars? Don't even think of it.”
“You'll get the wine either way.” Her face lost some of its stony formality.
“My conscience won't be satisfied if I don't at least make the attempt. Elena,” I took her hand and pressed my forehead with apparent submission to the glittering Dunneal ring. “My knees are screaming in pain against this hard ground. Now stop chatting. If you want your champion to stand a fighting chance, let me get up.”
“Alex, I'm grateful.” She gestured me to stand. As I tried hard not to groan aloud, she gripped my hands, heedless of the watching eyes. “Damnation, you idiot. If you're not careful, I'll rip out your heart myself.”
I bowed once again before nodding to Jules and the rest of the Barlows. I shot a lusty wink at Anders and turned with deceptive coolness to face my enemy. Rewarded by the sweet, satisfying sound of an angry hiss, I stared at Charlton Ravess, my face calm. Only then was I aware of Seamage Neal Brandt beneath the Port Alain banner.
Maybe neither mage knew about mother's pendant.
Maybe I had a chance.
“Seems you've been recognized.” Elena's murmur sounded close behind me as I studied the white-haired mage who hadn't budged from his spot at the entrance to the Crown Council tent.
A horn sounded to my right, and Elena's steward stepped forward to declare the formalities of the Challenge. I was grateful he couldn't slam the oak staff in my ear, though the horn was jarring enough to wake the dead buried in the old town graveyard.
“Elena Dunneal, Queen of Tuldamoran, stands challenged by Charlton Ravess, Firemage of the Ardenna Crown Council of Mages.”
I met my opponent's furious glare with an easy, measuring look, disguising the turmoil in my head and heart as Anders taught me. I coaxed the fire and ice awake, praying with fervor to the lords of the sea to keep an eye open in my favor.
“The Mage Challenge continues until either the Challenged or Challenger yields. If neither opponent yields, the Challenge continues until one mage dies. Representing Elena Dunneal, Queen of Tuldamoran, is Alexandra Daine Keltie, Mage.”
Mage.
Ravess didn't bother to hide the hatred and contempt in those deep brown eyes. Confusion flashed across his face, but swiftly vanished. Mage. Let the traitor fret about the orphan child.
“Representing Firemage Charlton Ravess is the Firemage himself.”
Not the Crownmage.
“The Mage Challenge begins with a ritual testing by each mage to confirm the presence of talent.”
Damn the person who stole mother's pendant.
With a stiff bow to Elena, the steward stepped back into place.
Elena placed both hands on my shoulders as I faced the field. “I won't tolerate this idiocy if you're in serious danger. Remember that.” As I nodded, she squeezed my shoulders and dropped her hands to her side.
Before confronting Charlton Ravess, I needed one more reassurance. From the corner of my eye, I found what I needed. Anders' calm expression revealed not the slightest trace of any anxiety. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, one I matched without hesitation. Slowly, I confronted Charlton Ravess. Watching me approach his position on the field, he exchanged an almost imperceptible glance with Erich Harwoode of Barrow's Pass. What was going on there?
I shoved those distracting thoughts aside. I'd time now only for Charlton Ravess and his hate-filled, frost-bitten, hungry eyes. Concentrating on fire and ice, always painful at first until I tamed them, they soon merged into the old familiar presence. Cool warmth drifted through every part of my body, every finger and toe, every strand of hair. Anders taught me how easy it could be, showed me how easy it could be. I pushed all thoughts of Mother’s copper pendant from my mind, Mother's stolen pendant, and forced myself to concentrate.
Balanced in the warmth of the morning sun, I stood with eyes closed. My senses open to the Kieren River's dampness just beyond the open border of the meadow, the earth's fragrant greenness beneath me, the wind's cold gust from the river ruffling my hair, and the flame's heat burning at Ravess's feet. I opened my eyes in slow motion and blinked.
“Orphan child.”
When I didn't acknowledge his taunt, flames sprouted at my feet. It was a test from Ravess, according to the rules. Who stared with hate-filled eyes at Elena, and then me. The traitor betrayed. His own fault we were here.
Calm.
Envisioning the flames quenched with water, I cursed in silence as wind fanned the flames higher, though managed to keep my face emotionless.
Concentrate.
I inched back from the flames licking too near my boots, focusing on water; on Anders' cool sea-gray eyes. I felt the cool spray from the Kieren River and Shad's Bay beyond Port Alain, reaching even, in my mind, to the Skandar Sea. I groaned in bitter disappointment as a mound of dirt smothered the flames. But the flames, at least, were gone. The Challenge required a test from me before it continued unrestricted.
Focus.
There, the log at Ravess' feet. I saw the flames in my mind, fatal, creeping slowly upward, along his vile body. Instead, I called a strong gust of wind which did no harm. It died on its own as I released the talent, trying hard to ignore my opponent's blatant triumph. The ritual test barely satisfied with my elemental conjuring, I braced for his attack, and found myself ringed with searing flames. Sweat erupted as the heat's intensity increased, the flames inching closer and higher. I focused on the sea; even weed-filled clumps of dirt would do at the moment.
Concentrate.
I cried out sharply at the gust of wind, my own flameblasted wind, which fanned the fire higher. Enraged and despairing, I called on moist, vibrant earth to snuff out the dangerous flames. I was rewarded with cool, drenching water which soaked me completely, offering some little protection for a short while.
Ravess snarled at my drenched, shivering figure. He pushed wayward locks of white tangled hair from his face, which bore an expression of uncertainty. Elena had told him nothing, given him not one clue. Wretched beast, let him wonder. Fire and ice reasserted themselves with excruciating pain as I lost my concentration.
Focus.
I needed to attack Ravess now, and focused on the sea once again. I saw it clearly raging around him as the earth beneath his feet turned to crashing, rushing water to drag him away. But flames erupted at his feet instead, distracting him. He leaped agilely as the first flame appeared and snuffed the fire without effort, leaving the earth scorched and blackened. Raising his hand
s, maybe to frighten me, he sent flames shooting down the length of my body. Clothes still drenched from my last failed attempt feebly kept the flames at bay, hissing and steaming until they began to smoulder.
“Alex!” Jules shouted somewhere behind me as I fought back the rising panic and despair. Elena's voice murmured something unintelligible.
Fearful she'd forfeit, I dared a moment's glance in her direction and shook my head. Pale with worry, lips pressed tight, she nodded once.
I begged the lords of the sea for cool river water, pledged the lives of my unborn children and grandchildren if I could only coax water from the blistering flames. The wind, in heartbreaking mockery, rose in a ferocious gust to defeat me. I shook with dread. Fire and ice pierced my head with unimaginable pain, while the flames sought to destroy the meager leather protecting me.
Lords of the sea, not with fire.
“Thrash him, Alex. Oh please, Alex, thrash him. Hurry!”
I blinked at the terrified words and the familiar voice that shrieked them. Unable to concentrate, I nearly collapsed from the fire and ice that raged through my body. Lords of the sea, is this what my mother suffered before she died?
“Thrash him!”
Thrash him? As ice-cold realization hit, I turned in shock to find Carey crouched at the edge of the crowd, white with fear, perilously close to me. Too close. How did he get here? As Jules raced with frantic speed to snatch him to safety, Carey stumbled onto the open meadow in panicked fright as the flames spread outward, inching swiftly toward the boy. Carey knelt in the dirt, paralyzed with fascinated horror by the approaching river of flame. Jules would never reach him in time.
My heart stopped for one brief raging moment. Sernyn Keltie stood alone, beyond the crowd, mournful eyes shadowing my every move, mouthing something I couldn't hear, didn’t want to hear. Hot consuming anger and cold murderous vengeance shoved my fears aside as I tamed the fire and ice, heedless of the sharp sting of the flames licking my skin. Anger surged through me at Sernyn Keltie's betrayal and abandonment, and now witness to my humiliating struggle. I laughed with unbridled bitterness, almost madness, using whatever power his flameblasted blood gifted to me, used it to wreak vengeance and ease my own grief-stricken, guilty pain.
Bastard.
I focused on cool, cleansing river water, reached with my thoughts to the overflowing Kieren River. Commanded it to soak my smoldering clothes and singed hair. And it came. Thank the lords of the sea, it came, blessed icy coolness that hissed, enveloping me in dense fog. I sank to my knees, trembling in relief despite the sharp bite of the cold wind as Jules grabbed Carey back to the safety of his arms. Some distant part of me heard Elena's gasp of relief, Jules' hoarse whisper to his son. From the corner of my eye, I felt the grim satisfaction in Anders' face, with barely hidden relief, and more than a trace of deep affection. Reckless, I shoved all this aside.
Carey's cry still echoed in my head. Thrash him. Ravess? Sernyn? Did it matter? Did any of it truly matter? Fire and ice was no longer painful, but eager to be used, for vengeance if that was my desire. I waited for the fog to dissipate enough to see where Ravess was standing.
“Orphan child.” He beckoned with an obscene gesture, brown eyes richly seductive, until he laughed.
I envisioned a lake, deep and deadly, mere inches wider than his slender body. He sank abruptly as the earth beneath him transformed into a narrow, deep well. Floundering and shocked, Ravess sputtered and vanished from sight, grabbing with desperation for the edge of solid earth. He reappeared briefly before he slipped and vanished again.
I focused on flame, and waited, cloaked in cold vengeance. As Ravess’ hand appeared and gripped solid dirt with slick fingers, the earth erupted in flame, throwing him back from the edge, submerging him. His head bobbed to the surface, white hair plastered to his scalp, as he reached for the other side. Flames encircled him, but he was a firemage, and quickly banished the danger.
No matter, I'd shown him what an enraged orphan child could do.
Ravess pulled himself from the well, furious. I watched and waited, taking deep calming breaths, conscious once again of Anders and Elena at the fringe of the meadow. I knew Elena's face was pale with strain. Jules held Carey close to his chest, trying to shelter the child from the murderous scene played out before him. Kerrie’s arm wrapped tight around Khrista, both of them fretting.
Sernyn Keltie stood motionless, fists clenched at his side, alone. I blinked back tears and forced him from my thoughts.
Muttering to himself, Ravess stood slowly. I didn't wait; couldn't; knowing he'd snatch the first opportunity to strike at me. I focused on blasting, wintry gusts of wind. Through narrowed eyes I watched with grim satisfaction as the tempest rose, dragging the firemage painfully, brutally, along the hard, frost-covered ground. Unable to stand or catch his balance, he scrambled for a lingering tree as the wind tugged him along. He held on tight, fingers bleeding from his taut grip. When I gentled the wind, he collapsed, panting, body sprawled across the open ground.
I stumbled to my feet, body trembling with fatigue, tension and pain, eyes fixed on Ravess' still form, unwilling just yet to tame my hungry retribution. Elena met my reckless gaze with open unease, perhaps dismayed at the beast she'd set free. I shook my head once, not ready to stop. With an abrupt, inelegant gesture, she signaled the steward forward to kneel by the firemage's head. Heavy silence descended as I let the wind die, the steward's voice echoed eerily, stiff in his formality after our brutal exchange.
“Firemage, do you yield?”
White hair slicked back against his head with sweat and water, Ravess raised himself awkwardly on one blood-streaked arm where the leather of his tunic had been ripped to shreds. Hate-filled, deep brown eyes turned in my direction as he struggled to stand, waving the steward out of the way with a vicious gesture.
“Yield to an orphan child?” Wavering, he hissed at the steward, “I will not yield. Not now. Not ever.”
Sernyn bowed his head, and I felt his shame across the meadow between us. I turned my face away, waiting with mounting impatience as the steward scurried to safety by Elena's side. It seemed I delayed too long. Ravess took fierce advantage of my hesitation and sent scorching flames my way. I focused without effort now, cool water coming instantly and blessedly to my relief.
“Did she promise you friendship, orphan child?” Ravess' laughter searched with cruelty for the chink in my emotions, gnawing away at my unstable confidence. “I thought you wanted vengeance. Instead, you crawl at her bidding, seduced by promises of undying affection to suffer at my hands. Foolish child.” He edged a step closer. “Are you so desperate to believe her silky lies? No one wants you, everyone pities you, and Elena uses you, orphan child, though you're too desperate to see the truth. Her friendship is sweet as long as you have the talent. But if it disappears again—”
I slipped, shaken by the power of his filthy words. On one knee, I braced for his inevitable attack, weary, sick at heart, knowing what Ravess didn't know. Sernyn Keltie hadn't wanted me either, and he was here, watching.
“Alex, no. He's lying.” Elena's grief-stricken whisper snagged my attention. I was close enough to recognize unshed tears in dark blue eyes that begged me not to believe his dangerous seductive words. “I'll forfeit.” She gripped the steward's arm, fully prepared to stop the Challenge. “Damn you, Alex. I'll forfeit now.”
“No.”
Ravess poised to strike.
I envisioned the river surging past, heard the water rushing by. I watched with heartfelt appeasement as the earth beneath the firemage turned again to a raging, roaring, uncontrolled stream. The water carried him to the banks of the Kieren River, plunging him under time and again, and without mercy, once more.
I sank to both knees, exhausted.
Ravess snatched a passing log for safety, teeth chattering in the frigid water. I forced myself to wait with cold patience until he anchored himself around the log, steering it toward the riverbank. Without a trace of hesi
tation, I envisioned the log as flames beneath his head where it rested against the rough wood. Ravess screamed in agonizing pain as the fire sizzled against the skin of his unbearded cheek. The firemage clawed his way frantically back toward the earthen bank. Hate and vengeance consumed his deep brown eyes as he gingerly touched his scarred cheek, raising a trembling hand to hurl flames my way. I struck once again, with vicious coldness, sending a wintry tempest to lift him bodily. The blast flung him down, screaming his anger and hatred, at Elena's feet where he lay still.
I staggered to where she waited, dark eyes fighting to hold a jumble of emotions in check. Filthy, bedraggled, hurting, and wanting nothing more than to be back in my cottage with Anders, I prayed the Challenge was ended. All anger and vengeance drained away. Pushing aside my own confused jumble of emotions, I struggled to maintain some shred of dignity.
Elena slanted a grim look in Anders' direction before meeting my eyes with deceptive calm over Ravess' limp body, and prodded the mage with her boot.
“Firemage,” accompanied by another kick, “do you yield?”
His muffled answer was more a bitter curse than an intelligent response.
“My Mage Champion cannot hear you. Do you yield?” She repeated the ritual question in an ice cold voice, prodding Ravess again.
“Yes.” Ravess didn't have the strength to raise his blood-spattered, scarred head in my direction. I heard the unforgettable, unforgiving hatred in his harsh voice and shivered.
I scanned the crowd, searching for Sernyn, but he was gone, as though he'd never been. Vanished from my life once again.
Elena's cool triumphant expression turned to alarm as my vision spun with dizziness and my body swayed.
“Anders, hurry.”
Barely in time, Anders caught me as I fell forward, grateful for the soothing, cool darkness as I fainted dead away.
EPILOGUE
“How long have I been sleeping?” I rubbed my eyes like a child, hesitantly stepping in the direction of my sitting room.
Mage Confusion (Book 1) Page 23