Ignoring his insulting endearment, I snarled. “You’re all avoiding the topic. The topic,” I repeated for emphasis, in case none of them had any real clue as to why I was furious.
“Ah.” The wind lifted Anders’s gray-streaked hair, which he paid no mind until it fell into his eyes. “The breeze? Is that the topic to which you’re referring?”
“You know what topic I’m referring to.” I gathered the reins into a jumble of leather and held them in my fist, safer than bringing that fist anywhere near Anders’s rugged features. “It’s a conspiracy, that’s what it is.”
“Alex—” Elena tapped my arm, though whether to get my attention or stop me from changing my mind and smashing my fist into Anders’s face. “While it may be a conspiracy, it’s not an evil one. We thought for certain you’d rather we didn’t mention the, ah, topic. In fact, we all concluded that you wouldn’t want us to coddle you.”
“I don’t want you to coddle me,” I said hotly, feeling blood creep up my neck beneath my skin, “but—” When I realized what I nearly admitted, my skin flushed even deeper and I started to untangle the reins, ready to move up the road. “Forget it,” I murmured.
“No.” Anders blocked my path with his stallion, while Elena grabbed the reins of my horse. “Tell us.”
I shook my head, wishing the wind would lift my own curls and cover my face. “It’s stupid and selfish.”
“You thought we were ignoring you,” Elena said quietly to my averted face. “All we meant to do was not make an issue of the bridge, simply because we thought it would only make matters worse. Obviously, we misjudged how you might feel.” She squeezed my fingers, white-knuckled from gripping the reins. “Sorry.”
“Please, no. I’m being ridiculous. It wasn’t that I was ignored, but rather—” I inhaled deeply and shook my head. “Let’s just go. It’s getting late. I don’t want to risk missing the ship.”
“We have time.” Anders’s smile was sad as he cupped my chin, forcing me to look at him. “You thought we weren’t taking you seriously. Alex—” He stopped my protest by covering my lips with his finger. “If you ever think I’d forget that ferocious slap at Edgecliff when you thought I was playing with your fears, and worse, the cost of my error in judgment to your affection,” —he raised my face and kissed me gently on the brow— “then you’re daft. I took you very seriously at Lunatics’ Crossing, too, though I did leave you behind hoping you’d follow.”
“True, but you’d planned to make the bridge more secure,” I reminded him, knowing his heart had been in the right place.
“Thank you for remembering,” he murmured. “All right, let’s get this straight so all of us understand what’s what.” He turned to the others, a smile tugging at his lips, before asking me, “Do you still plan to join us on the bridge?”
“Yes.” My voice sounded very young and unsure, so I cleared my throat and sat upright in the saddle. “Absolutely. My choice. I promise not to make a scene.”
As it turned out, to everyone’s relief, though none of them would ever admit the truth, I didn’t make a scene. Caught by the spectacular beauty of the falls, a sight I didn’t enjoy nearly often enough, I felt its wonder somehow gave me courage. Though I had to admit, the sight of all that crashing water was scarier at night, much like the open sea and rough waves crashing onto shore, particularly with a storm on its way inland.
We hid our horses in a thicket a short walk from the road that led to the bridge, with enough oats to keep them well-satisfied and quiet. In single file, we neared the narrow bridge, its short but high span daunting, though less so than when I was a child. I darted a brave grin in Anders’s direction and followed first Jackson and then Elena onto the sturdy structure built of stone and wood. Anders trailed behind me, with Corey and Maylen last. As swiftly as I could manage without being too obvious, I crouched to the hard ground between two of the narrow slits in the structure. Out of sight of all that free flowing water beneath me, I fooled myself into feeling a little safer, though I was no less protected from the cold spray.
“Shouldn’t be long,” Jackson reassured me, “if she keeps to her schedule.”
I smiled my thanks and let the others keep watch, my back to the wall behind me, my face curved upward toward the sun, letting the warmth of its rays soothe my rattled soul.
A sharp elbow nudged me in the ribs. “Didn’t you promise Rosanna you’d keep your eyes open?”
“Is there a Spreebridge ship in sight, your majesty?”
“Not yet.”
“A mast?”
Humor crept into Elena’s tone. “Not a one in sight.”
“Then let me enjoy the sunshine in peace.”
“Ah. The lazy slug is emerging. I knew it was there all along.” Elena nudged me again, sharper this time. “And you had the nerve to accuse the rest of us as being lazy slugs the other day.” Another nudge nearly toppled me into my husband’s lap. “What insolence.”
“I’m not being lazy. What I am is resting my eyes, or trying to, if you’d keep your pointy elbow to yourself, so that when the Stoutheart does arrive, my eyesight will be sharp,” I explained through narrowed eyes, wary of the royal arm. “Consequently, I’ll be the one to catch all those important details the rest of you miss. In fact,” I suggested, being practical, “you might take turns doing the same.”
“That’s so Alex won’t be the only one looking like a lazy slug,” Anders pointed out to Elena, who smothered a grin when I snarled.
“Suit yourself.”
“You know,” Elena drawled, as I shut my eyes again, “she might actually be right. And since I have the highest authority here—”
“As though we listen to you.”
Elena ignored my insult. “I’m designating Jackson and Corey, the two most likely to spot anything or anyone of significance, to take first watch. By the time they’re rested and back on lookout, the ship should be arriving. Hmm, let’s see. Maylen might need to take first watch, too, along with Anders and me. She’s probably got the sharpest trained eyes, thanks to her Glynnswood training. Too bad” —Elena elbowed me again when I forgot to keep an eye on that dangerous weapon— “your heritage never made an impression on you.”
“Lords of the sea.” I groaned, shuffling closer to Anders and away from Elena. “Are you finished chattering? I’m trying to get some peace and quiet.”
“Actually,” Anders purred in my ear, “I’m not. I have one more comment to make, even though Elena might be finished. I was just remembering the happy day you suggested I jump from the top of the falls.”
“Leap.”
“Ah, you remember, too.” When he nibbled at my ear, I brushed him away. “Aren’t you glad I didn’t?”
“No comment.”
Anders turned a bright grin to my newest brother. “See that, Corey? That’s a clear sign that Alex loves me.”
And with that, we all fell quiet for a short time, the crash of Jendlan Falls in the background shutting out all other sound. I felt calm, which I hadn’t expected. And surrounded by friends and family, my heart beat just a little slower.
* * * *
“There she is, rounding the bend.” Maylen’s voice hinted at excitement, so rare an event that I eyed her curiously from beneath lowered lids. The young woman’s cheeks were flushed from the sun as she focused her spyglass through the narrow slit. “I win the wager, as expected.”
“What wager?” I demanded, pulling my own spyglass from the inside pocket of my spray-misted cloak. “And if you won, then who lost?”
“Gwynn set me against Corey,” the scout explained without turning away from the spyglass, “to see who had sharper eyes. A farfetched bet.” She flashed a bright grin at Corey for one quick second as she cheerfully slapped him on the back. “No offense, Master Frehan.”
“You know, Maylen,” —I stared at the young woman in disgust— “I think you’ve been spending too much time with Gwynn.” Getting to my knees, I slipped the spyglass into the slit, suddenly que
asy at the sight of all that rushing water within what seemed like touching distance when I peered through the spyglass. Swallowing my fear, I focused to the east, where the river split, one half heading away from the falls and toward the open sea. Just beyond the bend, Stoutheart came into glorious sight, three tall masts and full sails helping her fly across the water. The crew on deck and on the rigging scurried like ants, heeding the captain’s commands to avoid the treacherous current that would bring the ship dangerously near the falls and beckoning disaster.
“There is Elder Frontish, standing on the bridge with the captain.” Corey squinted through his own spyglass. “And with him, maybe—” His voice fell silent as Jackson gasped.
“What? Who?” Following Corey’s focus, I scanned the ship’s deck and stopped when I reached the bridge, where Derek Frontish had turned his face away from the captain to speak with another gentleman. My heart sank, and I glanced past Elena. “Jackson—”
“Who is it?” Elena demanded, worried not only by my reaction but Jackson’s expression of dismay as he met my gaze. Before either of us could answer, she guessed. “It’s Westin Harlowe, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
At Jackson’s terse reply, Elena said, “Well, he’s an elder, too, isn’t he? Can’t the simple answer be that Westin is coming here as another representative?” Though Elena’s tone was demanding, her voice betrayed concern. Even Jackson, judging by his sad smile, knew that his lover was trying to make things right. “Westin knows Jackson lives in Tuldamoran—”
“Yes, but in Ardenna,” Jackson said softly, turning his handsome face away from her. “Not here in Port Alain. Your brother and heir,” he murmured, “whom Westin does not know, was supposed to be here to welcome the ship. Not you or me.” Anger suddenly transformed his handsome face as he peered through the spyglass again.
When Elena would say something more, I signaled her quiet for the moment, to leave him be. Stoutheart was reaching its closest point to where we crouched on the stone bridge. After only a few more moments, she’d move farther away and eventually fade from sight, sailing south to the mouth of the river. “What in— Lords of the sea.” I sat up on my knees, cursed as cold stone bit through my trousers, and focused on the water, watching in horror. “That sailor just fell from the rigging. I don’t see him, but I saw the splash.” Searching the river, I spotted his head as he resurfaced. “There. See. Moving toward the edge of the falls by the shallow pool. Anders, do you see? He’s drifting to the spot where you taught the children. If he’s lucky, the current won’t drag him toward the falls.”
“I see him.”
Remaining out of sight beneath the wall, I half stood up and found Anders blocking my path, eyes focused in concentration as he peered through the spyglass. Suspicious, I followed his steady gaze, not surprised, when the water nearest the shallow pool transformed to fog, neatly cutting off the sailor from his shipmates’ view. “Anders—”
“Sh—” Elena chided, as she crouched beside me. “Let’s go rescue the poor sailor before he drowns.”
“But Anders—”
“If we rescue the sailor, Alex,” —Elena brushed damp strands of black hair from her eyes— “it means we can get off the bridge.”
“Right.” Needing no further encouragement, I stepped over my husband’s rigid body, and flew past Corey and Maylen toward solid ground. The shallow pool was a heartbeat away, and we found the drenched sailor clinging precariously to a slippery rock. Corey caught up to me, just as I reached out a hand, but stopped in mid-crouch, my jaw falling open in shock. Beside me, Corey mimicked my reaction, both of us staring like mindless idiots.
“A fine pair of rescuers, Alex Keltie. And you, Corey Frehan,” the soaking sailor chided both of us in a familiar female voice, “are a disgrace and no better. Can someone please help me?” When neither Corey nor I moved a muscle, still bewildered, Maylen stepped up and stretched out a hand. With Jackson’s help, she pulled the sea-soaked woman from the river. Her long white-blonde braid dripping with water, Kimmer Frehan nodded her thanks as Maylen had the good sense to offer the shivering woman her dry cloak. Kimmer shook her head at Corey and me before studying Elena’s face in silence. “Your majesty, I presume?”
“Yes.” Puzzled, Elena looked to Jackson for an explanation, but he grinned, enjoying the show. “And you are?”
“Corey Frehan’s mother, for which I have some regret at the moment.”
* * * *
“So there they stood, Corey and Alex.” Kimmer was tattling to Rosanna and Anessa, both of whom enjoyed her indignant tale at our expense a short time later, as the Spreebridge elder took smug satisfaction from their expressions of disbelief, disapproval, and horror. “As though neither of them had an intelligent brain in their heads. And both of them, to my amazement, are responsible for tutoring our impressionable children. Whose idea was the fog?”
Anders replaced her wet cloak with a plush towel. “Mine.”
“I should have known. Thanks.”
“Don’t encourage him,” I grumbled, not pleased with the day’s events. “I still can’t believe you intentionally dove off that rigging into the river. My heart almost stopped, and that was before I knew it was you. For the lords’ sake, you could have been smashed against the rocks if the current had carried you any nearer the falls.”
“That wasn’t in my plan.”
“Your—”
“Alex—” Rosanna’s manners had reached their breaking point. “Let the poor woman get out of those wet clothes and take a hot bath.” She put a hand on Kimmer’s drenched shoulder and guided the woman toward the main staircase. “You’d think I didn’t teach her common sense and courtesy.”
“Hold on one minute more.” Crossing my arms, I blocked their passage by reaching the first step before they did and slid a grin at Corey. “When you come downstairs, Elder Frehan,” —I beamed— “remind me to tell you how your son spent his afternoon yesterday.”
“Alex…” Corey groaned and cast a pleading glance to Rosanna and Anessa, neither of whom seemed inclined to help him.
Studying the dynamics with interest, and her son’s flushed skin even more, Kimmer smiled at Corey in apology. “I certainly shall. Now— Oh, wait.” Stopping Rosanna from pushing me out of the way, her expression grew serious. “Forgive me, Lady Barlow, but there is a matter that cannot wait for my hot bath, though it will be most welcome.” She reached beneath her soggy tunic and unstrapped a water flask, carefully wrapped in oilskin to keep it dry. Handing it to me as I stepped down from the step, Kimmer smiled with warmth. “A present from Spreebridge. One long sip for you, one for Jackson, and one for your father. Not yet, I think,” she said to me, “for little Emila. Not until the danger is past.”
Speechless, I held the flask, afraid to believe what I so desperately wanted to believe was in that flask, carried miles downriver from Derbarry.
“Keep it safe, Alex. And this, too.” Kimmer pulled a folded note from inside another oilskin packet. “Directions for its making, with notes on the required herbs and dosage.”
“No.” Surprising the older woman, I stepped back, refusing to accept the paper. “I can’t. I don’t know the ingredients for feyweed, either. I’m a mage. It might—” I took a deep breath before admitting my fear. “It might tempt me to abuse my power.”
“But you wouldn’t,” Kimmer was swift to reassure me.
“I might.” Shutting my eyes, I raised my hand to keep the note at a distance. “I’ve already used my mage talent in ways that have shamed me. I—”
“In my defense,” Elena came to my rescue, reading my mind.
“I know.” The Mage Challenge, in which I’d defended her throne and my life, had left its emotional scars on my soul. Anger that day at my adversary, as well as my father, unleashed power and arrogance I never knew I possessed, and it wasn’t something of which I was proud. “But still, it’s not a memory that makes me feel good about myself.” I opened my eyes to find Rosanna studying my face, pi
ty and love so evident I nearly wept. With that encouragement, I turned back to Elena. “You hang on to it. Give it to Anders if you like. I’d just feel better, all right? Just do it for my sake, as a favor.”
“On one condition,” she said, surprising me with a grin. “Shut up and take a sip of that precious liquid.”
I laughed, unnerved at hearing the shakiness in my voice. Opening the flask, I looked at Anders, took comfort in his smile, and breathed deeply. I sipped from the flask, found the liquid cool and not unpleasant, compared with feyweed’s rank odor. Slightly tart, it had a grainy feel as it slid down my throat. Eyes shut tight, I waited afraid nothing would happen, nothing would change. With an abruptness that took my breath away, fire and ice came alive. I merged them swiftly and easily to cool warmth, opened my eyes, found a target in the top log by the hall fireplace, and transformed the wood to air, happily watching it vanish with childish satisfaction.
Anders grabbed my face in both hands and planted a noisy kiss on my lips. I handed the flask to Jackson, who mimicked my movement. Watching his face, and the joy in his eyes that must have mirrored mine, I smiled when he transformed the air above the pile of logs to another log.
My father took the flask he offered, once Elena freed Jackson from a very passionate embrace. He met my gaze across the space between us and smiled sadly. Though he drank from the flask, and felt the mage talent come alive again, I knew he wouldn’t use it, as he never had but for that one near-fatal time when he almost killed his best friend. And not knowing that he was a mage, my mother never had a chance when she gave birth to me, fighting an infant child with unexpected wild magic. Ironic that my own childhood experience had so closely followed my father’s, but I’d found the courage to embrace my mage gift. I only wished he would, too, in time. In the back of my mind, an idea was forming, but it needed care and cautious words and perfect timing.
“Thank you.” I hugged Kimmer, brushing aside her polite concerns about getting me wet. “Thank you. For all of us.”
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