Mage Evolution (Book 3)

by Virginia G. McMorrow

  “How?” I ignored my husband, keeping my gaze fixed on Sernyn. “Did she use her magic in front of anyone? Was she showing off?”

  “Of course not.” Sernyn shook his head. “We were all careful with her. Even Emmy knew it was a secret, and you know how well-behaved she is.” As Anessa inched near to stroke his arm, he sighed again. “There were some traders in the village, a new young man among them. He must have spied Emmy and Gwynn deep in the forest when they thought they were alone. It never occurred to me—”

  “Can we find him?” Anders held me close, as though to stop me from fleeing.

  My father hesitated. “He is no longer a problem. We tried to capture the man unharmed to question him, but he attacked Gwynn and tried to kill him. I—” Sernyn left Anessa’s side and turned away, walking with weary steps toward the window. “I made certain he would never hurt anyone again.”

  Lords of the sea, what more would happen? “I’m sorry.” I pulled free of Anders’s protective grasp and hugged my father close. “I’m so sorry.”

  “No, Alex. I am sorry. We let you down—”

  “Stop it.” I shook him with easy affection. “How could you know? How could any of us know?” I caught the swift glance that flashed between Anessa and my father. “What is it? Is Gwynn all right?”

  Anessa sank down into the armchair, trying to keep tears back as Maylen knelt by her side. “My son is gone, and we do not know where. He blames himself—”

  “Flameblasted fool. We have to find him. Maylen?”

  An odd expression in the younger woman’s eyes made me pause and feel more confident. “I will find him. There are several places he may have gone. One, in particular, I think.” She stood up and strode toward the door, resting one hand on the wood. “Do you have any message, Alex, when I find him?”

  “Oh, yes. Tell my brother he’s a coward,” I said, angry, but not at Gwynn. As Maylen faced me, her expression unreadable, I whispered, blinking back hot tears, “And tell him—Tell Gwynn that it’s my fault. I should have brought Emmy to Jules’s lodge.” The tears fell unhindered. “My fault, Maylen, not his.”

  “It is not your fault either, Alex.” With no other words for me or from me, Maylen vanished into the night.

  Respecting my silence, though like as not disagreeing with what it implied, Anders trailed me into the chamber where Emmy lay sleeping. I stood in the doorway, not wanting to wake the child, but some instinct stirred her awake.

  “Mama!” Tiny arms snaked around my neck as I knelt by her bedside, Anders beside me. She threw one arm around his neck, never letting go of me. It took all the restraint in my power not to weep for her. “I can’t do magic anymore,” she whispered, starting to cry.

  “Hush. It’s all right, sweetling.” I hugged her tight. “Didn’t Grandfather tell you what happened to me when I was as little as you?” When Emmy pulled back from my arms and shook her head gravely, I smiled. “Silly.” I pushed the curls from her face and wiped her tears with a handkerchief Anders made a production of pulling from his tunic pocket. “Well, he should have told you. Now I’ll have to scold him.” I shook my head in mock disapproval. “When I was little, I could only do a small bit of magic, and then, one day, I couldn’t do any, not one bit. I thought it had disappeared.”

  “What happened?” Huge seagray eyes, her father’s eyes, studied me as she listened with an adult’s intensity.

  I shrugged with a lightness I didn’t feel, as though my experience had been nothing to worry about. “I don’t know why it happened. I couldn’t do anymore magic until the day your father showed up at the door to my schoolroom.” I made a ridiculous face at Anders behind my hand to make her laugh. “And then, all of a sudden, he taught me how to do magic all over again.”

  Anders touched her damp cheek and smiled. “If your mother could learn to do magic again, then so can you. After all, you’re a lot smarter than she is.” Anders ducked my fist and hid behind Emmy for protection, both of them shrieking. Laughing as he tickled her, she hugged him again.

  “Go back to sleep.” Kissing the top of her head, I leaned on the bedpost to stand upright, watching Anders tuck her in until she was warm and snug. “And if you tell anyone, especially grandmother Rosanna, that you’re smarter than me, I’ll dangle you by your fat little toes over the Skandar Sea.”

  Anders waved me away in dismissal and winked at her. Emmy smiled sleepily, yawned, and blew me a kiss as Anders led me from the room.

  “She’ll be fine in time,” he reassured my fretting father as we joined them back in their sitting room. I plopped back against the inviting cushions on the armchair beside the cottage fireplace.

  “I do not worry so much about my poor granddaughter. It is you, Alex. Will you be fine?” My father glanced with meaning in my direction as Anessa handed me a steaming cup of cinnamon tea. She’d added a hint of Marain Valley wine, another trick she learned from the senior Lady Barlow.

  “Yes.”

  “I am not convinced.”

  Fully aware of the irony, I glanced at the man who, not so very long ago, wouldn’t dream of confronting me. “It’s Anders you should be worried about.”

  “Me?” Anders looked confused.

  “My guess is that you’re their next target.”

  “I’ll be careful.”

  “We were careful with Emmy, and look what happened. I want you to go somewhere and hide. Travel. Take a holiday.” When Anders gave me a long-suffering look, I exploded, “Flameblast you, Anders! If Elder Frontish is behind these attacks, I need your precious Crownmage talent intact.”

  From the corner of my eye, I caught my father’s open curiosity. Well, we hadn’t had time to tell him anything of our journey yet. As Anders related what we uncovered, with the tactful omission of just who Corey was in relation to my father, I let my thoughts wander until they rambled around and about the long way back to Emmy. And how I’d failed to protect her. I never noticed my father kneeling beside me until he stroked my wet cheek.

  “Don’t tell me it’s not my fault,” I whispered. “That’s a lie.”

  He studied me for a long silent moment. “You made a choice, Alex. Maybe it was not the right one, but you chose, believing at the time that it was the best choice. No one could predict what would happen.”

  Anders knelt opposite my father. “And I went along with the decision.”

  “Not to listen to my nagging—”

  “Stop it. You’re implying I’m henpecked. It’s my fault, too. Now enough nonsense.” Anders stood and pulled me to my feet, with a wink at Anessa. “Besides, it’s time I tucked you into bed. We haven’t been alone in, what— Months? Years?”

  Chapter Nine

  “Your daughter was smarter than you from the very first moment she opened those gorgeous seagray eyes and smiled at me.”

  “I can’t believe she’d tell you that.”

  Rosanna kept her expression bland, a very old Barlow trick, very much like Anders’s far-too-innocent expression, and sat across from me as I found my usual refuge sorting through books and papers in the schoolroom. “She didn’t have to. It’s obvious.” I gave Rosanna the same long-suffering glare Anders often gave me, to no avail, as usual. “Well?”

  “Well what?” I snapped, annoyed Rosanna had cornered me so fast after our recent return from Glynnswood and an uneasy farewell from my father.

  “Feeling out of sorts?”

  “Damn it, Rosanna, my daughter’s been robbed of her fledgling mage talent, my foolish brother’s a coward and hiding from me, my father’s feeling guilty about the whole horrendous matter—”

  “And you’re not?” Eyes wide with innocence and an upraised brow stared me down from the top of my head to the soles of my worn boots. When I didn’t bother to answer, her tone softened, “Alex—”

  “All right!” Having heard enough, and not wanting to hear any more, I slammed a heavy geography book on the low table, sending papers flying across the wooden floor. “I should have taken Emmy to Jules’s
lodge instead of sending her to Glynnswood and damn all Jules’s rights to privacy. Is that what you want me to say?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Then what?” I listened in utter amazement as Rosanna rolled her eyes toward the ceiling and uttered a very out-of-character unladylike oath, much like her daughter-in-law, Lauryn, when she was exceptionally annoyed at me. “My, my. Listen to you. If your grandchildren could hear those words—”

  “I’m glad you did. Maybe you’ll get my point.” Rosanna glared at me. “Don’t you know the difference between my pestering and my honest concern?”

  “Is there a difference?” I grinned, bending to retrieve the nearest scattered papers from the ground.

  “Ungrateful child.”

  “So you’re concerned now, I take it?”

  “You know I am.”

  I put the papers aside and leaned forward, catching her off guard as an impish thought entered my head. “Did Anders tell you everything?”

  Rosanna blinked. “Well, now, that depends,” she hedged, shrewdly suspecting a trap. “What’s everything?”

  I cocked my head to the side. “Corey?”

  “Corey?” The senior Lady Barlow scratched her gray head, thinking, or pretending to think. “Kimmer Frehan’s oldest son?”

  “Hmm, yes.”

  “What about him?”

  The old woman looked sincerely ignorant, but she’d lied to me before. Maybe Anders hadn’t told her the whole story. Then again, maybe he had. “What did Anders tell you about Corey?”

  “Quite a lot.” She grinned, earning a scowl from me. “As always. But apparently,” —Rosanna narrowed her eyes— “not everything.” When I didn’t enlighten her further, she poked my arm with a pudgy finger. “Well?”

  I learned quite a bit from the woman who raised me over the years, including the art of sidestepping. “Do you think Gwynn will show up in Port Alain once Maylen kicks his butt and he finds the courage to face me?”

  Perplexed, Rosanna blinked again. “Gwynn? Yes, of course. Once Maylen convinces him he was very foolish to run away.” She shoved aside the geography book, propped both elbows on the table, and planted her chin on her hands. “All right, Alex, I’ve been alive far longer than you. What does Gwynn Keltie have to do with Corey Frehan?”

  I knew I’d hook her sooner or later. Shrugging carelessly, I explained, “I just can’t let Gwynn follow me to Ardenna next week when I meet Corey.”

  “Why not?”

  “Anders really, really didn’t tell you?”

  Rosanna shook her head. “No.”

  “Ah, then. If he didn’t think it important, then neither do I.” A bland expression covered my face as I started to clear away the books and stack them in a lopsided pile.

  Rosanna grabbed the sleeve of my tunic. “You’re being exceptionally difficult.”

  “I’m trying very hard.”

  “You’re succeeding.”

  “All right.” Laughing, I straightened the pile of books, pulled them in front of me, and leaned an elbow on top of them. “I’ll take pity on an old woman who has nothing better to do than listen to local gossip.”

  “Now you’re being disrespectful.”

  “You deserve it.”

  Huge eyes, expressing hurt feelings, stared me down. “Do I really?”

  “The wounded look isn’t very convincing at the moment.” Smacking her arm lightly, I lost, and then caught, my balance on the pile of books. “Now think, Lady Barlow. Why would I have to keep my half-brother, Gwynn, away from Corey?” When Rosanna concentrated, unable to make the connection, I grew impatient. “Lords of the sea, woman, don’t think too hard. It’s unnerving.”

  She gasped, muttered another oath, and narrowed her eyes. “Oh, Alex!” Knowing she’d finally snapped the puzzle pieces into place, I started to laugh again, losing my balance as the books fell. She grabbed my arm to hold me steady. “Is it true?”

  “Oh yes.”

  “Does your father know?”

  “No.”

  Rosanna sat back and studied me. “You didn’t tell him?”

  “Kimmer didn’t want me to say anything.”

  Rosanna’s fingers tapped an anxious rhythm against the tabletop. “In your case, that usually doesn’t matter.”

  I held her gaze, daring her to say the wrong thing. “Kimmer’s afraid Corey will hate her, or feel betrayed. Can you imagine such a thing?”

  “No, Alex.” Rosanna’s eyes widened again in mock innocence. “I can’t imagine anyone reacting that way.”

  “Neither can I.”

  “What’s he like?”

  Considering my answer, I sat back on the stool, sighing heavily. “You’d like him. He’s a bit like me and Gwynn and my father, all rolled into one. Rosanna—” When she said nothing, waiting with her usual patience, aware that I’d grown serious again, I admitted, “My father really should know about Corey.”

  “Agreed.” She patted my hand and said softly, “But not from you.”

  “No. Not from me.”

  * * * *

  “Why didn’t anyone tell me you were back?” Jules poked his head through the doorway of the schoolroom moments after his mother left. If he’d arrived a few moments earlier, the conversation might have been a little different and a whole lot dicier.

  “You probably didn’t ask. Or maybe you didn’t care.”

  Raking slender fingers through disheveled light brown hair, Jules shook his head. “No one knew when you’d be back. You didn’t bother to send word like a decent human being,” he scolded, which meant he’d been worried. “Not to mention Lauryn’s going to hang me by my toes from Mother’s balcony if I don’t tell her you’ve arrived safe and sound.”

  “Don’t bother. Your mother is probably on her way there now.” Jules came into the spacious room and sat on the low wooden table, tapping two letters against his knee. I studied his handsome face. “You’ll break the table.”

  “I will not.”

  “All right. Be stubborn. But if you do break it, I’ll insist the ducal treasury, not Lauryn’s half, pay for another.” I pointed at the letters he was waving, squinting to get a better look. “What’s that? Aha, they have the royal seal. Must be important.”

  “Yes, unfortunately.” Jules’s expression turned abruptly grim and, beyond that, apologetic on my behalf. “Someone’s attacked Jackson with feyweed. He’s lost his mage talent, too.” He handed me the other letter. “This one came for you.”

  Following my instinct, which usually led me in the right direction if I didn’t count my recent decision to not use Jules’s hunting lodge for Emmy, I thought it best for the moment not to tell him I knew all about Jackson’s trouble, or how I knew. Too much awkward explanation and too few solid answers. I broke the seal and scanned the letter, reading Elena’s worries about Jackson and me between the lines. It was good she didn’t know what happened to my daughter or father, despite the fact Sernyn never used his magic. It was still a loss and a violation, and Elena would be heartbroken for both of them.

  “I know just how Jackson feels.”

  “Does it get any easier?” For a pleasant change, Jules was sincere. “You lost it once before as a child.”

  “Yes, but that was before I really had it, or, honestly, enjoyed it. My fault, thank you for not reminding me, Jules. After all, most of that lost time was due to the fact magic scared me half to death, and so I didn’t want to have it.” At the ugly reminder of our earlier shared history, I shrugged, trying hard to disguise my grief. It wouldn’t serve anyone’s purpose to have Jules worrying more than he needed to worry. “I suppose time will make it easier for us. I don’t know. I still reach for the magic like a missing arm or leg. Sometimes I do it on purpose, just to see if maybe the whole incident was a nightmare and never really happened.”

  “Can’t anything be done?”

  Stretching the kinks from my back, I gave Jules a sly grin. “We’ve some ideas to play with.” As his eyes widened with a hundred
thousand questions, I wagged a finger at him. “Don’t ask.”

  “All right, but that’s not fair. In fact—”

  “Alex!” In moments, I was nearly knocked from the low stool by a crashing tidal wave of children and adults as Hunter and Carey, Jules’s twin eleven-year-old boys, pulled me to my feet and swept me around in a circle. Khrista and her daughter, Linsey, trailed along with Lauryn, my own Emmy running between them, face flushed with excitement and joy at being back home in Port Alain.

  “Why didn’t you tell us you were back?” Lauryn scolded, light blue eyes flashing with genuine annoyance. “Not that any of us missed you, of course, but we did miss Anders and Emmy.”

  “I’m sure you didn’t miss all the noise.”

  Khrista grinned as little Linsey entwined her small fingers in her hand, the child nearly as serious as my own daughter. “Not a bit. In fact, just the other day, Kerrie and I told Chester, over a pint or two of delicious ale down at the Seaman’s Berth, how much we loved having you gone.”

  “We missed you, Alex.” Hunter, the twin who favored Lauryn’s gentle, perceptive temperament, hastened to reassure me. “Didn’t we?” he nudged Carey, the other twin, Jules’s twin, as his grandmother always proclaimed, the one who couldn’t stay out of trouble for very long.

  “Sure. Especially since Mother’s a harder taskmaster when she takes over the school lessons.” Carey scampered out of my reach, a broad grin on his handsome face, as he hid behind my adoring daughter.

  “By the way, Alex,” Jules cut in, with a wink at Emmy, who smiled shyly, “Did your little journey to Glynnswood make you any less cranky?”

  No wonder Carey was the way he was. I folded my arms across my chest. “What do you think, my lord duke? Care to take a wager?”

  * * * *

  “Imagine the nerve of your son implying I was anything but pleasant. Even Khrista,” I complained, smothering a yawn, “had bad things to say in front of the impressionable children. I expected better of your daughter. After all, we did spend a lot of time in our childhood plotting against Jules and Elena, now that I think of it.”