Borrowed Magic

by Shari Lambert

  Maren sat next to Adare, waiting for the trial to begin. Philip stood a few feet in front of them, facing the crowd.

  Twenty-nine

  Kern walked solemnly down the aisle, and Maren felt hatred rise in her chest. He couldn’t get away with this. She had to do something. She just didn’t know what. Unless she could kill him quickly, before he had the chance to heal himself, she didn’t stand a chance. Which left what? Poison? An accident of such proportions that no one could survive? The first had already failed once. The second she didn’t have the resources to pull off.

  Philip stepped forward to greet Kern. “Well?”

  “He’s just outside. I wanted to make sure everything was ready before…” He glanced towards Adare. “Before I brought him in.”

  Philip turned to Adare. “Are you sure?”

  She nodded and clung even more tightly to Maren.

  Kern signaled to the soldiers guarding the door and they opened it, revealing a man shackled both feet and hands. The soldiers led him slowly towards the front of the room as everyone watched, some with fear, some with barely-contained hatred.

  Maren was more surprised than anything else. The man in front of her looked barely sixteen. Not even really a man. He was skinny and she wanted to hate him. She wanted to grab Philip’s sword from his side and run him through, but at that moment, watching him, she only felt pity. Even though he had shot that arrow. He had killed Daric. Not because of some mysterious reason he’d give today. Not because of some personal vendetta. Because Kern had made him. Somehow.

  He was just another pawn in Kern’s game.

  The procession stopped in front of Philip, and the soldiers pushed the young man to his knees.

  “What is your name?” Philip began.

  Silence.

  Philip tried again. “Did you intend to murder the king?”

  The young man nodded.

  “Did anyone else help you?”

  He shook his head.

  Kern stepped forward and lifted his head by the hair. “Lord Philip is talking to you. He deserves the respect of your answers.”

  Maren cringed and looked away, unable to meet the young man’s eyes.

  “I murdered the king. I acted alone.” He sounded desperate to be believed.

  Philip crouched in front of him. “You don’t need to be afraid. You are very young. If someone made you do this, I want to know.”

  “No.” His eyes flicked to Philip as his hands twisted together. “It was just me.”

  Philip sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “A trial will be scheduled for two days from now. If anyone has any evidence, we would request they bring it forward.” He signaled for the guards to take away the prisoner.

  “Wait!” Adare pulled from Maren’s grasp and ran forward until she stood facing the young man. “Why?” she demanded. “Why?”

  The boy stood silent, unable to met Adare’s gaze.

  Kern stepped forward, with the obvious intent of doing more physical violence, but Philip stopped him.

  “You will answer your queen,” Kern said instead.

  “I…” Maren saw his entire body shudder. “I had to. He was cruel.”

  Adare’s face contorted with anger. She slapped the prisoner across his cheek so hard it knocked him sideways. She stood over him, and Maren didn’t like what she saw. Adare was kind and gentle and loving, not the picture of hatred that stood there now. “Daric was never cruel,” Adare said in a voice laced with fury. “He would never…”

  Adare’s entire body sagged forward, but Philip caught her. Maren watched all the anger drain from Adare’s face, leaving her pale and sad and lost.

  She took the queen by the arm and gently pulled her away. The blankness in her eyes scared Maren more than she wanted to admit. Hopefully sleep and some distance would eventually help, but she was terrified it wouldn’t, that Adare would never be the same.

  The soldiers hauled the prisoner back to his feet. Maren watched it all with growing sorrow – that turned to horror as the young man dared one last glance at Adare, and Maren saw his face for the first time.

  Her eyes flew to Kern’s as understanding dawned. He met her gaze, and one corner of his mouth lifted the tiniest bit, as if he’d been waiting for her to put the pieces together and was pleased with her reaction.

  Her breath came in gasps, and she pushed herself up on legs so shaky she didn’t know if they would hold her.

  “Kira.” Her voice sounded like it belonged to a ghost, and Kira’s face creased in concern. “I need you to take Adare to her room and make sure she has everything she needs.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  Maren only shook her head. “I’ll tell you later, but right now I need…I have to…”

  She couldn’t even finish, instead making her way to the side of the room and slipping out the door. She didn’t care what anyone thought or how her exit would be perceived, she just needed to leave.

  She ran until her lungs hurt, all the while fighting back the bile filling her throat. She stumbled and clawed her way back to her feet and ran some more, not knowing where she was going, or who was watching, or what she was going to do. She only knew she needed to get as far away from that room as possible, as far away from the look on the young man’s face as she could.

  It wasn’t working. His eyes haunted her until she wondered if they were permanently burned across her mind.

  She burst through the castle doors and headed for the garden, falling again, and again, and again. And then she couldn’t run anymore, couldn’t do anything but curl into a tight ball and try to shut everything out. But the hollow ache in her chest felt as if it would swallow her whole.

  And then someone’s arms slipped around her and lifted her off the ground.

  Her eyes flew open to see Philip.

  “No,” she tried to break free of his hold. “No, you can’t. He’ll—”

  Philip shifted her higher in his arms. “Shhhh. Maren, it’s all right. Kern’s too busy to worry about you right now.”

  She realized he was carrying her into the castle. “But someone else will see. They’ll tell him.”

  “No one can see us,” Philip said, his jaw tight and his eyes angry. “I made sure of it. I do have some magic.”

  He carried her all the way to her room and sat on the sofa with her in his arms. “Now, tell me what happened.”

  She closed her eyes and leaned against his chest. “Kern made him kill Daric. I saw it in his face. The pain. Deep, constant, unyielding pain. Kern’s using it to manipulate him. He learned from me how to do it and what it took. Then he injured the boy and is forcing him to do whatever he wants.”

  “And you think the young man would do it? He’d go so far as to kill the king?”

  She paused. “He’d do anything to get rid of the pain.”

  “But he’s going to die. That’s the sentence. Death.”

  “And he probably begged Kern for it when the pain got too unbearable. Kern offered him a trade. If he would kill Daric, Kern would kill him.”

  Philip looked at her in disbelief. “How can you be so sure?”

  She couldn’t meet his eyes. “Because I begged him to kill me once.”

  Every last bit of color drained from Philip’s face. “When?” he finally asked.

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “It does matter. You left this out when you told me everything else. Why?”

  She shook her head and tried to bury her face against him, but he pushed her away until their eyes met. “I want to know. Now.”

  “It was after the first time I tried to tell you about Kern,” she whispered, afraid to meet his eyes. “He’d warned me that if I said anything, he’d kill Adare, but I risked it anyway. Only he heard everything. I begged him not to hurt her, and he agreed. Instead, he…” She shuddered. “He…”

  Philip squeezed his eyes shut and wrapped her in his arms. “You don’t have to say anymore.”

  For a minute all she heard was the
sound of his breathing, and then his entire body tensed. “If I’d believed you… If I…” He shifted her onto the sofa. “I’m going to kill him.”

  He’d already taken three steps before she realized he meant now. She ran to catch up, pulling on his arm until he stopped.

  “Not now,” she begged. “Not when you’re this angry.” She reached up to run her hand along his cheek.

  He pulled her to him and rested his chin against her head. “He can’t continue to hurt people like this.”

  No, he couldn’t. It gave him too much power. It had to stop. No matter what the sacrifice.

  Thirty

  Maren gazed at the funeral pyre in silence. The heat was so intense she briefly wondered if it might burn her skin. Not that it mattered. Daric had given her everything. She hadn’t even been able to save his life. The least she could do was stand here until the end, when only the embers glowed against the night sky.

  She’d never wanted to arrange for Daric’s funeral, but she had. Adare was in no condition to do anything. Philip was busy with the troops and making sure something like this didn’t happen again. Kern would have volunteered, but that was something Maren couldn’t allow. It would have been insulting to Daric’s memory. So the task had fallen to her, the only remaining member of the royal family – even if it had only been for a few days.

  Tomorrow morning, in light of there being no heir and the law not allowing Adare to inherit the throne, a new king would be chosen by the Council. If it was Kern… She wrapped her arms around herself. If it was Kern, then unless she could come up with something by tomorrow evening, he’d be crowned the next day. If the Council didn’t choose Kern… She didn’t even want to consider what would happen. Who else he’d torture.

  She shuddered. She’d only seen Kern once since yesterday, had spent most of her time comforting Adare and arranging for the funeral. He’d spent most of his time meeting with the Council. But just after sundown, as she left Adare’s chambers so exhausted she could barely stand, she’d almost run right into him. He looked down at her with an expression so self-satisfied she thought she might be sick. Instead, she took a step back and raised her chin.

  An appreciative light entered his eyes and he gave her a mocking bow. “My Lady.”

  She felt him pull away the familiar pain without even touching her and tried not to show her relief. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction – not when she could use his own magic and do it herself. Instead, she’d turned and without a backward glance stormed down the hall.

  Now, the flames were almost gone, and the crowd had thinned considerably. Even Adare had allowed herself to be led to her room. Maren sighed and looked towards the castle, only to meet Kern’s gaze. She prepared to do exactly what she’d done the night before, but he blocked her path.

  She scowled. “I know you did this.”

  A hint of a smile touched his lips. “The young man did this. He admitted it. You heard him yourself.”

  “No.” She took a step back. “You did this.”

  “And what if I did?” he asked. “What difference does it make? Daric’s still dead. I will still be king. And you…” He stepped forward and ran a finger along her cheek. “You will still be my wife.”

  She slapped his hand away. “I hate you.”

  He almost laughed. “I’m sure you do. But you also need me. I don’t know how you’ve gotten through an entire day without my help.”

  She wanted to tell him, to throw it right in his face, that she used his own magic every chance she had. Instead she folded her arms across her chest. “It must be sheer willpower.” She tried to step around him, but he caught her around the waist.

  He brushed his lips against her forehead, and she felt the tiniest bit of pain evaporate before she pulled herself out of his arms.

  He only smiled in a way that made her want to hit him. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning to take your pain. As much as you’d like it, I’m not going to let you die on me quite yet.”

  “You’re not going to get away with this,” she said as soon as his back was towards her.

  He slowly turned. “You’d better hope I do. If my plans were upset at this stage, I might have to hurt someone. No matter what I promised. You wouldn’t want that. It’s what you’ve been fighting for all along. Don’t forget it.”

  Maren stared at the pyre. She wasn’t going to forget, but she was going to stop him from hurting anyone else. Somehow.

  * * *

  Hours later, surrounded by piles of books that tumbled all around her, Maren wasn’t quite so optimistic. She’d searched everything, not even bothering to be careful or put everything away when she was done. Her father would have been appalled. She wished Philip and Kira could have helped, but Philip was with Kern, making security arrangements for the trial. And Kira was with Adare. It was probably better anyway. They’d risked too many meetings lately.

  Tonight, she’d focused her search on poisons. Some weren’t powerful enough. Some worked too slowly. Some listed ingredients she’d never heard of or couldn’t get in time. None were exactly right. If she could have gone to Halef, he might have been able to help. If she knew of another powerful mage… If. It always came down to that one little word.

  She put her head in her hands and realized they were shaking. One day. Not enough time. Even if she did have a plan that actually had a chance of working.

  She climbed off the sofa and wandered to the window, looking out over a city in mourning. Candles flickered in windows. Everything else was dark.

  She rubbed her eyes, so tired she could barely think straight, but it didn’t matter. She needed to do something. She rubbed her eyes again and turned, determined to search until she found an answer – or she was dead.

  The door clicked shut behind her, and she turned to see Philip. There were shadows under his eyes and he sank into a chair, exhausted. Then he dropped his face into his hands and shuddered before meeting her eyes.

  “Daric’s death is partly my fault. I could have prevented it. Maybe.”

  She rushed over and put her arms around him. “Then it’s partly my fault too. I’ve known all along what he was. I could have—”

  “There’s something I haven’t told you.”

  She waited as the silence built into something tangible.

  Finally, Philip thrust a hand through his hair. “When I discovered Kern was my father, I was more afraid than I’d ever been. I didn’t want to have his blood in me. I didn’t want to be him. I think that’s why I said those terrible things to you. Because I hated who I was, I thought you did too.”

  “But that’s not who you are,” she insisted.

  “I could have been. A different father figure and I would have been. It’s in me.” He took a deep breath. “That’s one of the reasons I left, to discover how much like Kern I really was. I went to find out how much magic I had. I didn’t want to tell you where I was those first two years because I hated myself.” He reached for her again, as if having her near would somehow make what he had to say easier. This time she didn’t pull away. The pain in his eyes was too much. “I went to an old woman, a mage I’d heard about when I was growing up. I told her who I was and that I wanted to know how much power I had.

  “At first she was skeptical, didn’t believe Kern had a son. But then she began to train me and she knew, just as I did, that I am my father’s son. I’ve never told anyone what happened during those two years, not even my father when I thought he was Teige. So he didn’t know during that final battle that I’d spelled my sword, hoping that magic would work where a normal blade wouldn’t. It might have surprised him, but I doubt it. He must have known I had magic. He used it to his advantage, pretending to die in a way I would actually believe. Looking back, what little magic I used would never have killed him. I should have known that at the time. But I wanted him gone, and it was easier to believe he was.”

  His voice became more desperate, and she sensed how difficult this was, how hard he’d struggled to co
me to terms with his own identity.

  “But Kern still doesn’t know the whole truth.”

  He went silent, and she felt as if he’d retreated to a different place. “What is the truth, Philip?” she prompted.

  He leaned his head against hers and closed his eyes. Then he pulled back and held out his hand, palm up. A blue sphere appeared, hovering just above his hand. It glowed with such intensity it could have lit up a dark room. She stared, torn between amazement and horror. It was the same glowing blue as the lines that traced her body from Kern’s own magic.

  “I’m a mage,” Philip said, crushing the light into his fist. “Not just a mage with a little magic. And not untrained. I have more power than I ever imagined. Even the woman who trained me couldn’t believe what I could do. Sometimes I could see the fear lurking in the back of her eyes at the ease with which I learned. After two years, she told me to leave. There was nothing more she could teach me. But it was more than that. She was scared. Of me.”

  Maren wished the woman was alive so she could strangle her. “Then she didn’t know you.”

  “Maybe not, but she knew what I could do. It was enough.”

  No wonder the smile had gone from his eyes. “No, Philip.” She took his face in her hands. “You are not Kern. I don’t care how powerful you are or what kind of misguided logic you have convinced yourself to believe. You are good.”

  He smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I know. It took me a long time to realize that, but I do know. And when she made me leave, I was determined to prove it. That’s why I went after Kern.” His jaw clenched. “But there’s a part of me that could be like him, that could relish the power. Even now, I want to kill him. My own father, Maren. I want to watch him die.” His arms tightened around her. “Especially now, after what he’s done to you. And Daric. And the rest of Tredare.”

  For a minute, she just let him hold her, forgetting about everything except how it felt to be loved. “That’s how you knew you weren’t under a spell. Whatever Kern did wouldn’t work on you.”