Mage Evolution (Book 3)

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Mage Evolution (Book 3) Page 27

by Virginia G. McMorrow


  Excerpt:

  “Now what on earth is wrong?” Hanna grumbled from behind the door, shaking the knob again before giving the wood a hard kick. “It was fine this morning. There’s no humidity in the air, and no summer-time dampness now that it’s mid-winter, though we are near Maris Waters. But still, why it should stick—”

  While Hanna continued to mutter, I grabbed the book, winked myself out of visibility in a heartbeat, and removed the chair from beneath the knob, a mere heartbeat before Andry’s mother slammed the door open, nearly flattening me against the wall.

  “Well now, how odd.”

  “It’s an old building.” Reni’s voice drifted into the room from behind Hanna’s slender figure. “Maybe it just needs some oil.”

  “Maybe it just needs a good swift kick every now and then,” Hanna said dryly, giving the door an extra thump for good measure and studying it from top to bottom. “I don’t know what the problem is, but I’ll ask Davies to have a look tomorrow before we open, if we ever have some peace and quiet in this place. Though I guess I shouldn’t complain about having so many customers, should I?” Hanna waved my sister into the neat room, and I held my breath as Andry’s mother unlocked the chest. “There you go, child. Go on. The scarf is buried in here somewhere, probably in the middle of those light cotton clothes. I’ll have to knit you another as soon as I can find the time. You’re growing too fast for even my nimble fingers to catch up. In fact, you’ll soon be as tall as—”

  When the older woman turned away, Reni touched her arm. “I miss Krag, too,” she said. “And Chase.” When Hanna’s eyes filled with tears, Reni reached up to hug her. “They’ll be home soon.”

  “Yes, they will,” Hanna whispered, her voice growing louder and more confident as she repeated the words. “Yes, they will. So we must be strong for them, love, and not get sick. You wrap that scarf tight around your neck to keep out the drafts, and remember to shut the door behind you. No reason to let nosey customers think they have a right to snoop inside our private rooms. All right?”

  “Yes.” When Reni stepped away, her smile was sad as Hanna disappeared from the room, boots clattering on the stairs as she rushed back to the madhouse downstairs to tend bar. Sighing, the child fumbled through the chest of clothes until she found what she was looking for and pulled out the light wool scarf. Wrapping it around her thin neck, she turned back toward the door, but something caught her attention, stopping her cold. Blue eyes studied the quilt for a long tense moment, carelessly mussed as it was from my body, and most likely still warm. Reni bent to touch the bed, and I held my breath again as the girl’s eyes grew thoughtful. Angry at my lapse, no more reliable than Andry had been with her shielding, it was all I could do to stand rigidly in place as Reni softly called my name.

  I bit my tongue to keep from speaking her name in turn, my fingers bunched in a fist so tight, I knew I’d find bruises later.

  Cradling the ends of the wool scarf in her fingers, Reni scrutinized the neat bedroom once more. “Krag,” she whispered, “if you’re still here, please listen. I don’t think you’re guilty. You can’t be. I know you’d never do anything to hurt us, especially not me or Chase or Andry. So please hurry home. I miss you terribly. And Krag—” Reni took a deep breath, her eyes welling with tears. “Don’t forget I love you.”

  The minute Reni fled the room, as though she knew I wouldn’t be able to contain myself, I sagged against the wall, sick at heart.

  Mage Confusion

  Book One in The Crownmage Trilogy

  By Virginia G. McMorrow

  A young woman’s courage, stubbornness, and heart stand firm in the face of dangerous magic.

  Excerpt:

  “You can't change the magnitude of what you're doing.”

  “Would you rather I set the entire woods ablaze?”

  “Alex, be reasonable,” Anders tried the diplomatic approach, “for a change.”

  Well, not quite diplomatic.

  “I should be reasonable?” I shouted. “You want me to risk the woods, my cottage, your worthless body, and me, by trying to force my uncontrollable talent to its potential?” I stamped around the clearing, muttering and swearing viciously. “Are you mad? Or just an idiot?”

  Anders stood in the center of the glade, arms crossed against his broad chest, legs slightly apart, balanced. The man was persistent as a hungry seahag with delicious, tempting, and cornered prey within reach. Engaging, in an odd sort of way I wasn’t quite able to put my finger on.

  “I don't want to push your talent to its limit, Alex, particularly since we don't know what those limits are. These puny manifestations you've been showing may be all you can do.”

  “Puny? How dare you?”

  “It wouldn't surprise me.”

  I should have scratched out his eyes the first time I saw him. He was nothing but trouble. Suddenly, he didn’t appear quite so engaging.

  “All I want is for you to give me a bonfire, perhaps, instead of a candle flame. Not a forest ablaze with crackling flames. A small hill of dirt rather than a pile no bigger than I'd find in Lady Barlow's gardens. Not a mountain. A pool of water bigger than a bucket. Not the Skandar Sea.”

  “I quite get your insulting point.”

  “Then do it.” Anders stood motionless, taunting me with a cool stance. “Stop muttering, and do it before I grow old and die.”

  “I wish you would.”

  “I'm not quite ready.”

  “That’s too bad.”

  Furious at his nagging, I coaxed the fire and ice and tamed them until they merged with scant effort, copper pendant clutched so tight in one hand I thought the imprint of the tidal crest would burn into my palm. Not a candle, or a hill, or a bucket for this flameblasted old beast. I kept an eye on the fallen, decayed log to Anders' side and envisioned a gust of wind stronger than my first attempt those weeks ago. Not a tempest, of course. The old man wouldn't approve, but a gust strong enough to make him pay close and careful attention.

  Envisioned it. Felt it.

  Opened my eyes to watch in spiteful joy Anders' dark hair tossing wildly in the wind I'd created. Stubborn, he stood in the same spot, cloak snapping from the force of the wind. I coaxed the talent further, seduced it, pushed it. Felt the gust increase a hundred-thousand fold in strength. Watched as small pieces of deadwood and leaves were swept away. Watched tree limbs bend and sway, fighting the gale.

  Watched in horror as the wind snatched Anders up as though he weighed nothing more than a fallen leaf and slammed his body against the oak tree.

  I panicked.

  Losing control of the cool warmth, I felt the sharp pain of ice and flame rip through my head, blinding me. Shaken, I waited only a heartbeat before running across the clearing to Anders. He lay unconscious, slumped against the tree trunk, just like Jules all those years ago. Frantic, I felt Anders' neck for a pulse in the loud silence of the banished windstorm.

  * * * *

  “You're reacting like a frightened child.”

  Refusing to listen or watch Anders limp painfully to my side, I turned my back on him. “I won't use the talent ever again, Anders. I could have killed you.”

  “But you didn't.” He eased the weight from his bandaged knee with careful movements. “Besides, I provoked you. I wouldn't leave you be.”

  “That doesn’t excuse what happened.” Bitterness and shame nearly choked me. “I risked hurting you to spite you,” I admitted, studiously avoiding his eyes. “I was careless and arrogant.”

  “Yes, you were.” Anders put a hand under my chin and forced me to look into his calm gaze. “So you learned a lesson.”

  “At your expense.”

  “You would have been well rid of me if the wind was any stronger. That should be a comfort to you should you ever be angry with me again. Or are you so accustomed to my engaging personality you would have missed me?”

  “You know I would.” My voice was subdued, instinct telling my heart a truth my head wasn’t quite ready t
o accept. “That's not funny.”

  He restrained a laugh, hand still resting under my chin. “I'm all right.”

  “You were lucky.” I sat back, forcing his hand to fall away.

  Anders straightened, groaning involuntary as he leaned on his injured knee. “At the risk of making me aware of my aging, decrepit bones, you will, at least, admit we made some progress?”

  “It doesn't matter. I'll not use it again. Not ever. Not for you or Elena. Most of all not for me.”

  “Then you'll have wasted everything I've taught you.”

  “I'll make it up to you somehow; pay you for the time you wasted.”

  “Don't be sorry, Alex!” he snapped, grabbing his woolen cloak and heading for the door. “And don't insult me. I'm not doing this for money. I'm here because of your mother. And because I believe in you.”

  “Even now?”

  “Learn from this mistake and put it behind you. You're not a coward, but you're acting like one. You'll withdraw where it's safe just so you won't risk making another mistake. And another lifetime will pass.”

  “My choice.”

  “A wrong one. You'll throw away your talent when you could be doing something useful with it. How can we ever learn or better ourselves without making mistakes or taking risks?” I didn't answer, fighting back tears of grief and humiliation. “Your mother would have been disappointed.”

  “Get out.” I snarled.

  Anders shuffled to the door. “When you've come to your senses, you know where to find me.”

  Mage Resolution

  Book Two in The Crownmage Trilogy

  “Lucky the same guard’s on duty,” Anders whispered in my ear as we waited in Elena’s sitting room. “I just wish you’d all visit each other during the day like normal people. But I suppose that’s asking too much.”

  I laughed and leaned back against him, closing my eyes. “It is, but I wish we met during the day, too. I’m tired of all this running around. And if I’m so weary,” I teased, “what must your old bones be feeling?”

  “Pain and aches, if you must know. Why not wait until morning?” he asked in exasperation, yanking at a lock of my hair.

  “Elena would be disappointed.”

  “I would?” Elena chose that moment to make her entrance, yawning and looking weary but content, in a scarlet silk bedrobe.

  And I was bent on destroying that contentment. I wished desperately there was a way she wouldn’t be hurt, but I couldn’t see any other option. Not unless we somehow made Erich out to be a wronged hero, and I wasn’t charitable enough to tolerate that.

  “Of course you’d be disappointed if I came during the day. You’d think that I was angry with you. Why else would I be so polite?”

  Elena smiled fondly at Anders, tossing midnight black hair over one shoulder. “She’s right, you know.”

  “I’ve stopped trying to understand the whole lot of you.”

  Bringing a bottle of Marain Valley wine with her, Elena eyed me as she handed the bottle to Anders. As he popped the cork free and poured us each a glass, she sat opposite me. “Something’s wrong. What is it?”

  “I know who’s trying to murder me.”

  Her eyes widened as she leaned forward. “Well?”

  “Charlton Ravess.”

  “Alex, I exiled him,” she said, bewilderment in her voice. “I made very sure he’d never be allowed to set foot in Tuldamoran again.”

  “Yes, well, he’s found his way back.” I took a sip of the cool fruity wine and sighed. “Not your fault. The man’s crafty. And that means I’ll have to confront him again to get rid of him for all time. He’s getting tiresome.”

  “I’m sorry. I’ve heard no rumors about him, which is unforgivable. I’ll put a troop at your command.”

  “No.”

  She paused, glass in mid-air, staring at me, forcing me to explain.

  “I have to go alone.”

  “Absolutely not.” Elena set the glass on the ground so hard I expected the crystal to shatter. “I rarely use my authority with you, Alex, but this time you leave me no choice.” Unaware she’d mimicked Brendan’s earlier statement Elena stared at me with stubborn defiance in every angle of her slender body. “I forbid it.”

  “Elena.” I sighed with unfeigned fatigue. “I’m tired, and I don’t have very much energy to argue.”

  “Good.”

  “Flameblast you, listen! Your troops would be useless. I know where Ravess is hiding out, and I’ll confront him alone.”

  “Alone? Really alone? Without Anders?” Elena looked from one to the other of us in disbelief. “Anders?” There was a trace of barely controlled anger and disappointment in her crisp voice as she challenged him.

  “It’s her battle, and Alex is capable of defeating him again.” Anders met her angry glare without flinching. “Besides, someone should remain in Port Alain if you need help. As Crownmage, I’m obligated to take Alex’s place until she returns.”

  “If she returns,” Elena said coldly, standing up.

  “When I return.”

  Disturbed, Elena stood by the chamber’s huge window, overlooking the darkened city below, and then turned calculating eyes on Anders. “I thought you loved Alex.”

  I started to laugh before he could answer her accusation. “Nice try. But it won’t work, Elena.”

  “Charlton Ravess almost killed you the last time you fought him.”

  “He did not.” I yawned and leaned back against an embroidered pillow, stretching the kinks from my aching legs. “I had no idea what I was doing then. I do now. I’ll be fine.”

  A look of pure skepticism flashed in her eyes, which should have insulted me, but didn’t. “Where are you going?” When I threw Anders a swift glance, Elena cut in before I could answer. “I want the truth.”

  “I’m heading back toward the Bitteredge Mountains. We think Ravess has been conspiring with some, ah, discontented mages from Glynnswood who don’t appreciate my perverse talent.” I stifled another yawn. “I need to check that out, too.”

  “I don’t like it.”

  “Neither do I,” I admitted in all honesty. “But it has to end. Carey was almost murdered in my place,” I added, telling her what happened, watching her expression soften to anxiety for Lauryn and the boys, and, of course, Jules. She paced again, absently tightening the knot of her silk robe until her slender waist looked in danger of being strangled. “Now be a good queen and don’t forbid me.”

  “I can’t believe Anders will let you go alone.”

  “He’s respecting my decision.” The gentleness of my words forced Elena to look back at me.

  She started to say something but caught back her words. “Damn it. You expect me to do the same, don’t you? If you let Charlton Ravess murder you, I’ll never forgive you.” With a savage glare, Elena left the room and slammed the door behind her.

  For my circle of family and friends…

  Acknowledgements

  Many thanks to Cherry Weiner, Lea Schizas, Nancy Bell, Greta Gunselman, and Marion Sipe for all their help in making this fantasy a reality and sharing my vision of family and friendship!

  Mage Evolution © 2012 by Virginia G. McMorrow

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, or events, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  MuseItUp Publishing

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  Cover Art © 2012 by Marion Sipe

  Edited by Nancy Bell

  Copyedited by Greta Gunselman

  Layout and Book Production by Lea Schizas

  eBook ISBN: 978-1-77127-178-3

&
nbsp; First eBook Edition *October 2012

  Production by MuseItUp Publishing

  Archebooks Publishing 2005

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