Borrowed Magic

by Shari Lambert

  She crossed the room in a few strides and pulled out two books on the very top shelf. Reaching behind them, she drew out a heavy, silver signet ring set with a black stone.

  For a few minutes all she could do was stare. “I don’t want anything to remember you by.” Philip’s final words before he left.

  And his final insult.

  She’d given him the ring on his twelfth birthday. At the time, her father said he’d found it on accident while doing research. She knew now it hadn’t been an accident. The ring was old, crafted hundreds of years ago, and made to protect anyone in Philip’s family from magic.

  Until the day he left, Philip had never taken it off.

  Now as she looked at it, her only emotion was sorrow. She wished she could give it back to him, give him something that would offer him protection – just in case. But in case of what? Kern was dead. But Teige wasn’t. And whatever Philip might think of him, Teige had secrets.

  Unfortunately, Philip wouldn’t accept the ring. Like he said, he didn’t want to be reminded of her.

  She slid the ring onto her finger and closed her eyes, willing herself to accept the inevitable and move on. If only it were that easy.

  She grabbed the two books she’d taken down, went to replace them, and stopped. The scene that met her eyes was her bedroom, but not the bedroom she recognized. The draperies that hung at the windows, barely a month old now, were in shreds, with large moth-eaten holes allowing light to stream through. Her bedding, the rugs on the floor, even the upholstery was in much the same condition. She took a step forward, her eyes widening in disbelief. Paint splintered and peeled from the walls, revealing cracks obviously inhabited by rats. She shivered and leaned against the bookshelf, tearing the ring from her fingers.

  Then she slowly looked around. Everything was back to normal, repaired, the way it should be. She slipped the ring back on.

  Once again the room changed – as if the siege had never ended, as if nothing had ever been done.

  But it didn’t make sense. Philip’s ring protected from the effects of magic. It didn’t change reality.

  She walked over to her bed and rubbed her fingers along the worn fabric of her blanket. It was so thin in places she could see right through it. The edges were frayed. The color faded.

  She pulled the ring off and reached for the blanket again. It was silky and luxurious and beautiful. It felt real.

  It had the first time, too.

  Her head spun and she sank onto a nearby chair. They couldn’t both be real. Either everything was beautiful and soft or everything was even worse than she remembered.

  But she’d seen the supplies piled in the streets. She’d watched the castle transform as things got back to normal. It wasn’t some kind of a dream. Daric and Philip had made sure things got done. They’d asked Teige…

  Her body shook uncontrollably as the truth hit her. Philip’s ring protected against magic. When she put it on, magic wouldn’t affect her – or how she saw things. The world she thought was real wasn’t. It was a magical façade, created to hide the truth.

  And the only one she knew who could do something like that was Lord Teige, the man who had overseen the rebuilding and assured them all that everything was back to normal.

  Bile rose in her throat and she forced it down. Why? Why would he put a spell on the entire city? Why make everyone think things were better? What was he trying to accomplish?

  She looked down at the ring lying on her palm but didn’t put it back on. The thought of what else she’d see once she left her room made her sick.

  And then she realized – the ring shouldn’t work for her. It only protected members of Kern’s family. Her hand went to the injury in her shoulder. She wasn’t connected to Kern by blood, but they did have a connection. His magic was inside her, hurting her, killing her. What if it also marked her as a member of his family?

  She needed to show Philip. He was the only other person who could see the truth.

  She clutched the ring so tightly it dug into her skin, but she didn’t care. Nothing mattered except stopping Teige from whatever he was trying to do. She all but ran into the hallway and made her way downstairs. A waiting footman informed her Philip was in the drawing room.

  But he wouldn’t be alone. He’d won the day with Kira.

  She almost changed her mind, imagining how it would look if she interrupted them and asked to speak to Philip alone. Kira wouldn’t like it. Philip probably wouldn’t either.

  But this was too important to wait.

  She plunged ahead, only stopping at the door to take a deep breath. Then she stepped into the room.

  Instead of being stared at by two pairs of eyes as she’d expected, she felt eight, all boring into her and none of them friendly. Panic and embarrassment threatened and she was briefly at a loss.

  “Was there something you needed, Maren?”

  Philip’s voice, aloof and too polite, shocked her from her paralysis. “I…I needed to—”

  Something moved at the edge of her vision, and she glanced to the side just as Teige got up from the table where he was playing cards and came to stand next to Philip.

  “Maren?” Philip nudged again, this time his eyes filling with concern. “Is something wrong?”

  “Yes!” she wanted to scream. Everything was wrong, and she needed his help. But it would have to wait. Asking to speak to Philip alone in front of Kira was one thing. Asking in front of an entire group of people that included Teige was another thing entirely. Because if Teige suspected she knew the truth, if he suspected she was going to tell Philip, he’d…

  She shivered. “I’m sorry to interrupt. I was looking for Adare.” She backed from the room, glancing once more at the two men in front of her. Philip took a step to follow her and then seemed to change his mind. Teige, on the other hand, observed her with something bordering on enjoyment. And as their eyes met, his brows lifted just the slightest.

  As if he knew what she’d discovered.

  Twelve

  Maren sat in the middle of her bed and listened to the shuffle of hooves in the castle courtyard below her window. A minute later they faded into the distance. She’d been awake for hours – that is if she’d ever really been asleep. It all felt like one big nightmare. She hadn’t found the courage to put the ring back on. She’d been waiting for Daric and Teige to leave on their now-daily ride so she could find Philip, make him put on the ring, and hope he had some idea what to do next. And now Daric and Teige were gone. But she still couldn’t seem to reach for the ring, to destroy the perfect image of her bedroom – even if she knew it wasn’t real.

  Neither could she hide in her room all day ignoring the truth.

  She swung her legs over the side of the bed with sheer willpower, dressed, and pulled her hair into a knot at the base of her neck. Her hand shook as she forced the ring onto her finger, twisting it around until only the silver band showed. Then she took a deep breath and stepped into the hall.

  Her horror mounted with each step. Nothing had been repaired, everything was in ruin. Even knowing what it had looked like during the siege didn’t help. After the seeming reality of the past months, the worn tapestries, cracked paint, shattered windows, and general decay were jarring, making her feel like a stranger in the place she’d called home her entire life.

  She stepped into the dining room, only to be disappointed when Philip wasn’t there. She made her way over to Adare and sat down, trying to act as if nothing was wrong.

  Adare nodded down at the empty table where her plate should be. “Aren’t you hungry?”

  “Not really.” She glanced at the food on Adare’s plate and paled. Instead of the normal sausages, eggs, and flatcakes, the plate held coarse brown bread and a boiled potato. The serving table was the same. Bread, potatoes, some corn mush. None of the delicacies the castle was used to. Nothing that spoke of royalty, society, or enjoyment.

  She looked back at Adare, knowing she couldn’t hide her growing fear for long.
“I guess I’m just not feeling very well today.”

  Adare reached out and took her hand. “Then why are you here? Go to bed.”

  Adare squeezed her hand, and she froze as a new revelation hit her. It wasn’t just the state of the castle and the food that weren’t right. It was also the people. They didn’t physically appear different, but their clothes were thread-bare, their shoes were worn, they appeared…wrong, broken, oppressed.

  “Maren?” Adare’s eyes narrowed. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “Nothing.” She tried to smile but wasn’t at all convinced she’d succeeded.

  Adare frowned and opened her mouth to say something else but Maren cut her off.

  “Actually, I was looking for Philip. He asked me to find a book from my father’s study, and I wanted to give it to him.”

  Adare looked torn between questioning Maren further and helping her find Philip. “I haven’t seen him this morning. Maybe he went with Daric and Teige.”

  Her hope sank.

  “You should ask his groom.”

  “I will.” She excused herself and fled, dreading what she’d find outside the castle but knowing she couldn’t ignore it.

  Her first stop was the stables, where she discovered that Philip was indeed gone but not with Daric. He’d left even earlier with a few of his soldiers to inspect some minor disturbance a few hours ride north.

  Pushing back her disappointment, she headed towards the city, knowing she couldn’t put it off indefinitely. Besides, the more she knew about what was really going on, the more she could tell Philip.

  She wove through streets heaped with rotten food and waste and covered her nose. Animals wandered freely, homes were falling apart, goods sold in the market were nothing more than twigs and rocks. It was ten times worse than during the siege. Then the people could see what was around them. They at least tried to keep the city clean, to maintain a semblance of normal. Now, everything was different. They looked…broken. Had Teige done the same thing to the rest of the kingdom?

  She wandered for hours through sights she’d never have believed a few days ago. And then she saw the girl who’d given her the ribbon. Her eyes lit when they saw Maren, and she rushed forward, thrusting her arm out in front of her. The rosewood bracelet dangled from her wrist.

  “Lady Maren,” she called. “I still have it. Ma wasn’t angry.”

  Up close, the girl’s condition was heartbreaking. She was dirty, her dress was torn, and her feet were bare and callused. Maren had never before had to work so hard for a smile. “I’m so glad.”

  The girl beamed and skipped away, leaving Maren sick.

  She pried the ring from her finger, but this time it didn’t help. The images she’d seen were burned into her mind. She stumbled forward, grasping at anything that could help her stay upright, until she finally made it back to the castle – to where, no matter how tattered they looked, the people still had a semblance of normal.

  Somehow, she managed to get a hold of herself before greeting the footman who opened the door. Then she went straight to Adare’s room. She had to warn her about Teige. Maybe she’d believe where Daric hadn’t.

  Her knock was immediately answered, and Maren stepped into the room.

  “You’re even paler than you were this morning.” Adare motioned for Maren to sit. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  Maren shivered but remained standing.

  Adare now looked genuinely concerned. “Maren, what is it?” She crossed the small space and put a hand on each of Maren’s arms. “What is wrong?”

  Maren took a step back and closed her eyes until she could trust herself to speak.

  “I don’t think Lord Teige is who he says he is.”

  Adare’s brows creased, and for a brief second, Maren thought she was angry.

  “Why? He helped Philip save the kingdom, and he’s become one of Daric’s closest friends.”

  The thought of which made Maren more terrified than the rest. “And you don’t find anything suspicious about him at all? Not even the fact that he claims to be a lord but won’t tell us where his seat is, or what caused such a rift between him and his family? You do realize it’s only on his own word that we even assume he is a lord.”

  Adare frowned. “I’ve never been the least suspicious. You should know better than anyone that there are things better left in the past.”

  Just what Daric had said when she’d tried to tell him her concerns.

  “I do know.” She paused. “But there’s something about how easily Kern was defeated, about Teige’s mysterious past, and—”

  “No!”

  The force of Adare’s exclamation shocked Maren almost as much as the ring’s revelations had.

  “No, Maren.” This time Adare spoke more gently, looking almost as surprised as Maren at her sudden outburst. “I know you’ve wondered about the victory, I know you don’t admire Teige like the rest of us do, but on this you’re wrong.”

  “I don’t think I am,” Maren said softly.

  “Then let me reassure you.” Adare’s voice was almost cold. “Philip, the man you love and who you’ve known almost your entire life, respects Teige. They are best friends. And Daric, my husband and your king, has accepted him. As a lord and a friend. I suggest you try to do the same.”

  The shock at being so addressed by her friend left Maren without a voice. Nothing seemed normal any more. “I’m sorry, Adare, but I can’t. I don’t think Lord Teige is being completely honest about who he is.”

  Adare walked back to her chair and sat down. “I cannot allow you to say negative things about Lord Teige. I can’t listen to them. It hurts to even hear them. If you have nothing better to say, then you need to leave.”

  Maren realized with dawning horror that what Adare said was true. She couldn’t say things against Teige. She couldn’t hear them or even allow them to be said. Just like with the physical state of the castle and the city, Adare was being manipulated by magic. Everyone else was probably in the same state. Including Philip. And Daric. That’s why he hadn’t listened when she’d gone to him with her suspicions about Teige. No one could see reality, and they couldn’t even begin to suspect the person who was behind it.

  She headed blindly for the door.

  “Maren, I’m sorry.” Adare sounded almost desperate. “I don’t know what’s come over me. I didn’t mean to be so harsh. Please, forgive me?”

  Maren pasted on a smile before facing her friend. “It’s all right. It’s nothing. I shouldn’t have said anything. I’ve just been upset and not feeling well.”

  “Of course,” Adare said, her face now full of true concern. “I understand. Why don’t you get some rest?”

  All Maren could do was nod before retreating through the door.

  She ducked her head and pulled her hair loose of its knot, hoping to hide the tears that were now flowing freely. People passed her in the hall, some even called her name, but she pretended not to hear. She walked as fast as she dared, heading for the one place she could be alone. But just as she rounded the last corner before her room, she walked right into someone.

  Strong hands clutched at her arms and panic consumed her. Teige had found her. He knew she knew the truth. He was going to hurt her or kill her or—

  “Maren!”

  “Let go of me!” She struggled to break free, twisting as hard as she could, but the hands held her tight.

  “Maren! Maren, stop! It’s me.”

  Her eyes darted upward – to Philip – and her body sagged in relief. He just stared down at her, taking in her swollen eyes and tear-stained cheeks. Embarrassed, she lowered her gaze and tried to pull away. Instead, his arms went around her, drawing her tight against his chest.

  The tears started all over again, but he just held her, face buried in her hair while she cried. For the first time all day, she wasn’t afraid. Philip wouldn’t allow anyone to hurt her. Somehow, he could make everything all right.

  Eventually her breathing becam
e more even, and she felt his arms loosen the slightest bit.

  “Maren?”

  She didn’t move, didn’t want the feeling of safety to end.

  “Maren, look at me.”

  She swallowed and raised her face to his. He placed his hand softly against her cheek. His thumb wiped the tears that hadn’t already soaked his tunic.

  Then the look in his eyes changed, and she heard his quick intake of breath. Every part of her knew he was going to kiss her. Every part of her wanted him to. His gaze was so intense she felt as though he could see into her soul. Then he leaned down and gently pressed his lips against hers. She moved closer, and the next instant the hand against her cheek had slid behind her head and the arm around her waist tightened.

  It had been so long, so much had happened since the last time they’d kissed, it felt like Philip was kissing her for the first time. Only this was different. Then she’d only known the excitement of a young girl in love. Now there were so many emotions she couldn’t differentiate them all. Hope, pain, longing, heartache, love, fear… It made the entire kiss feel different, more somehow. Philip was different – like a man who’d fought so hard against something and had finally surrendered.

  Even when he eventually pulled away, he didn’t speak, instead leaning his forehead against hers.

  “Tell me what’s wrong,” he finally whispered. “Please, let me help you.”

  The perfect moment was over. Reality, in all its harshness split through her head like a knife. All the happiness she’d felt was again out of reach, hidden behind an invisible wall that neither of them could breach.

  “Please. I can’t bear to see you like this.”

  She stepped out of his arms and shivered. “I can’t. Not here.”

  He came towards her, but she held up her hand, her eyes begging him to stop. Confusion washed over his face, followed swiftly by hurt and determination.

  “Why not?”

  She took a deep breath. “You won’t believe what I have to say unless I show you something, and I can’t do that here, where someone could overhear us.”