Mage Resolution (Book 2) Page 11

  “Now I have these two under control, I can see that you’ll only cause me trouble down the road. In other words,” —Erich signaled behind Ravess, who toppled to the ground with a harsh moan, pierced through his heart from a sword through his back— “I no longer need you either.”

  “Elena will be disappointed in you,” I said, determined not to vomit at the cold, unexpected murder, barely controlling the fire and ice, holding it in check until I could use it in safety. “Though I’m not sure what she sees in you, to love you so.”

  Erich came so close I could feel the angry heat of his breath on my face in the chill night. His sword point tapped my neck, tracing the faint scar Ravess had sketched along my skin a year ago.

  “Hurt her in any way,” a new voice drifted through the clearing, stopping my heart in dread at the unexpected arrival, “you traitorous bastard, and you’ll not live to draw another breath or see another morning.” Elena joined the silent gathering, her face chiseled in stone as her own royal troops secured the dense woods surrounding the clearing.

  “Elena, love.” Erich started to face her but her sword prodded him still, his own sword dangling at his side. “I’m not the enemy, I swear it. There’s been a serious mistake, a misunderstanding. Alex—”

  “Alex was suspicious of you the first time she saw you at Tucker’s Meadow, defending my honor and my throne. I thought it only a clash of personality, but her quiet watch forced me to keep my own counsel. I prayed she was wrong, and that you’d change even if she were right. But then I uncovered clues on my own, though you considered me easy to fool.”

  “Love—” His voice was silky smooth. “Listen to me.”

  “To what? Lies? By killing Ravess, you saved me the trouble of executing him for my father’s murder, and likely my mother’s, as well.” Elena’s face was stony. “As for your proven part in my father’s murder—”

  Without warning, Erich shifted, intending to thrust his own sword into her heart. But the duke only stared in perplexed anger at the sliver of flame that suddenly appeared in his hand to replace the sword. With a bitter oath, Erich dropped the flaming brand inches from Elena’s breast and watched in betrayed horror as she ran him through without hesitation. Erich fell heavily to the ground next to Ravess’s still body.

  No one moved. I barely allowed myself to breathe.

  Anders met my inquiring eyes, as he assumed I changed the steel to flame, with a question in his own. I squinted in confusion across the clearing for the only possible answer and was greeted by Gwynn’s shaky, relieved smile. Brendan stood beside him, oblivious, grieving eyes fixed on his sister, who stood alone in the center of the crowded clearing. Elena knelt to touch Erich’s face and closed his traitorous, staring, dark blue eyes. Lords of the sea, she’d known all along he wanted her dead and she still loved him. Rubbing a hand across her tear-streaked face, she stood without looking at anyone else, but me. My heart chilled at the contempt and bitterness in those dark blue eyes before she vanished, in the company of her guard, back into the encroaching forest.

  “Elena—”

  Brendan caught me back, one hand clamped on my trembling arm.

  Desperate, I tried to shake free. “Let me go. Damn it, let me go after her!”

  “No, Alex.” Young eyes pleaded with me. “Please. Not yet.” When I nodded, choking back tears, he went after her alone.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Can’t we just leave the little wretch here at the edge of Glynnswood? He’ll find his own way home. Even if we blindfolded him,” I tried to convince Anders, “you know he would. Gwynn could travel through these woods in his sleep.”

  Anders appraised me as he settled his backside easier in the saddle the next afternoon. “I believe it was your idea to confront Sernyn Keltie.”

  “Confront, yes,” I explained, quieting my horse as it fretted beneath me, grateful he’d refrained from reminding me that Elena continued to refuse to see me. Which, in turn, led to my impulsive urge to escort Gwynn back home, “but I never said I wanted to see him. I could just as easily write him a letter and send it with Gwynn.”

  “Alex.” Gwynn sent me a peculiar look as he tugged at the lock of brown hair that never quite stayed in place. “You are not afraid, are you?”

  “Of course not.”

  Anders coughed with exaggerated delicacy, urging his horse closer to mine. “Then we should go before night falls and we can’t see anything past our noses.”

  “Afraid of the dark?”

  “No.” Anders blinked, and then grinned. “Just afraid to be in the dark with you. Now can we go on? I’m sure some poor Glynnswood scout hidden in these overgrown woods already knows we’re here.”

  “They wouldn’t notice us if you weren’t so noisy, trampling through the undergrowth and—”

  “Alex—” Calming my horse with gentle words at his unexpected appearance, Sernyn Keltie, dressed in the familiar shades of greens and browns that Gwynn wore, emerged from the woods, uncertain as always with me. And sad. Not my fault, really. He’d brought this heartache on himself.

  Without dismounting, I bowed with court formality. Though his people were infallibly polite, I knew he would recognize it as my way of keeping distance between us. “You should know Gwynn has served us with honor.” As Sernyn glanced at the boy, I added, almost as a casual afterthought, “In fact, he saved Elena’s life.”

  Sernyn’s eyes widened perceptibly as Gwynn fidgeted under his stare. “Then you have done well.” He smiled, unable to hide his pride.

  “He has done more than well.” At the subtle change in my tone, Sernyn turned back to me. I studied his controlled features, the rugged handsome face and brown hair that Gwynn had inherited, along with the gentle, easy manner, and deep brown eyes. I took a deep breath, and then another. “Did you know, Elder Keltie, that both of your children are mages?”

  His eyes widened further as he glanced first at Gwynn, and then at me. I caught the realization in his expression as it changed from surprise to pride and, inevitably, to sorrow. “You are angry.”

  Not a question. And not angry that Gwynn was a mage, but angry he never told me I had a half-brother.

  “What do you think?” I clenched my fists against my side to control the involuntary bitter anger. “How else should I feel? You thrust him right under my feet. You knew he’d charm me. You deceived me again.”

  “I wanted you safe,” he explained with haste before I grabbed the reins and took off through the forest, a repeat of our first shocked meeting. “And Gwynn—” Sernyn looked at me without flinching, despite my ill-concealed hostility. “Gwynn wanted to know who you were. I am sorry, Alex. I wish I had told you rather than Gwynn revealing his identity.”

  “He didn’t tell me.” That surprised him, which gave me a little jolt of satisfaction. “Did you think I wouldn’t see it? Did you think I was stupid?” When his sole reply was a flush of shame, I started to turn my horse back toward the road, but Sernyn grabbed the reins, dropping them swiftly beneath my rage.

  “Before you go…” His flush deepened. “You must know Lady Barlow sent word should you pass through Glynnswood.”

  “Should I pass through,” I said, openly bitter, instinct screaming of trouble. “Something’s wrong. What’s happened?”

  My father brushed a hand through his full graying hair and nodded. “Her grandchildren have disappeared.”

  I looked swiftly at Anders. “You don’t think they tried to follow us again as they did in Tucker’s Meadow?”

  “That is not what happened,” Sernyn interrupted. “The twins were not alone. The duke’s sister and husband were taking the children to Bitterhill, but they never reached the inn there, and never returned to Port Alain.” He shrugged in apology. “I am sorry, Alex, but that is all she knows.”

  “It might have been one of Erich’s final orders,” Anders suggested, holding his mount steady. “If they were kidnapped, perhaps whoever’s responsible doesn’t know both Erich and Ravess are dead.”
>
  I stared at Anders for a long, tense moment, and then looked away.”If they were kidnapped because of me—”

  “You don’t know that.” When I shook my head, Anders grew impatient. “Damn it, Alex. You don’t. There may be any number of explanations. Don’t go blaming yourself. It’s too soon after Elena’s departure and that whole fiasco, and you’re not thinking straight.”

  In an unprecedented move, Senyn put a hand on my arm to get my attention. “Anders is right. You do not know this to be true. You have…” He paused, as though considering his words, as well he should. “You have an unfortunate habit of blaming yourself for events over which you have no control.”

  “Don’t touch me.”

  “Do not blame yourself.”

  When he dropped his hand, I lashed out again, sick at heart. “Why are you pretending to care? For twenty-five years, you didn’t care I blamed myself for my mother’s death.”

  “Alex,” Anders’s voice held a soft plea. “We’re wasting time. We’ve got to get back to Port Alain.”

  “Wait, Alex. I want to come.” Gwynn tugged at the rebellious lock of brown hair, and I wondered how much the boy knew of the trouble between Sernyn and me. The last thing I wanted was for him to get caught between us.

  “Sorry, no. I don’t want you near me until, until, young man, you learn how to control that flameblasted talent of yours.” I softened the denial with a smile. “I won’t risk having you practice magic around me. Ask Anders what damage an untrained mage can do.”

  “Then I will practice very hard. And Alex—” Gwynn leaned close, his words for my ears only. “What Firemage Ravess said, back in the forest, about father—” The boy was smart and grabbed hold of my reins before I moved away. “Those words were a lie. Father would not take advantage of you for your magic. I do not know all the trouble between you, though I have guessed some of it, and I cannot blame you for what little I do know, but no matter, Alex, I know he would never do what Charlton Ravess implied.”

  If the boy could defend Sernyn, then I was lost. Without another word for Gwynn, or his father, I freed the reins from my brother’s desperate grasp and urged my horse homeward.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Thank the lords of the sea, you’re back.” Rosanna hugged me close before turning to smother Anders. We’d found her pacing in her beloved gardens, worried about her daughter and her son-in-law, and, most of all, her defenseless grandchildren.

  “We came as soon as Sernyn gave us your message.” When Rosanna released Anders, she stepped back to stare at me. “Tell me about the twins,” I demanded, sidestepping a discussion about Sernyn Keltie.

  Rosanna’s plump face saddened abruptly. “There’s nothing more to tell. There’s been no word. They’ve vanished with Khrista and Kerrie. Lauryn’s sent Port Alain troops to comb the area between here and Bitterhill. There’s been no clue, no sign, nothing, Alex. No ransom note. Lauryn—”

  “Has Jules gone with the troops?” I asked, tucking chilled hands beneath my cloak, assuming that’s where he’d be, until Rosanna’s expression turned wary. “What? Has he gone missing, too?”

  Jules’s mother plucked at the cuff of her tunic sleeve, avoiding my eyes. “Jules left for Ardenna when Elena sent word of how matters ended, how she killed Erich with her own sword. Lauryn sent word two days later about the children, frantic for Jules to return. There’s been no response. We don’t think” —she bit her lower lip— “that he knows yet.”

  “Surely Elena—” I started to protest, but something in her eyes chilled me more effectively than the autumn breeze.

  “Elena left Ardenna, with Brendan in charge. Apparently, she left for a few days with a small escort. That escort” —her eyes held mine— “included Jules, and she refused to tell anyone where she was going. Brendan doesn’t even know. I suppose,” her voice dwindled to a pained whisper, “she needed time alone to heal.”

  “Time alone with Jules,” I snapped, furious at both of them, and kicked a stone savagely across the garden path.

  “And an escort.” Rosanna’s eyes were troubled.

  “That unthinking, idiotic, selfish—” When Anders cleared his throat I spun around to confront him. “What?”

  He straightened out his travel-worn tunic, tightening his thin leather belt, giving me time to speak, if I felt the urge. When I simply stared at him, Anders said quietly, “I believe I’m missing a crucial piece of information.”

  Rosanna looked at me and turned away, preferring to stare down the garden path. Interesting, however, that she didn’t forbid me to explain the dilemma.

  “Damn it all.” I kicked another stone. “Some years ago, Jules had this intriguing idea that he and Elena should become lovers. But he never managed to persuade Elena to take their relationship beyond friendship, so nothing, at least from what I’ve been told, ever happened between them. Enter Lauryn into Jules’s pitiful heart, and Jules fell in love again.” I waved my hands in wild frustration, chilled to the bone at what misery this stupid action would unleash. “But Jules never quite stopped loving Elena,” I blurted, hoping I was wrong about our assumptions. “And now he’s gone to console Elena after she’s killed the one man she really did love.”

  As I hunted for another stone to kick, Anders prompted, “And you believe, what?”

  “It doesn’t matter what I believe. It matters what Lauryn believes. And judging from Rosanna’s expression—” I waved in the direction of Jules’s mother, who kept her distance. “Lauryn believes what we do. And Lauryn needs her husband here far more than Elena needs him, wherever the hell they are.”

  While I was furious, Anders remained calm, cool seagray eyes thoughtful. “What does Lauryn really think?” he asked Rosanna, ignoring my frown.

  Tears glittered in her eyes as she sank onto one of the cold stone benches, as cold as the anger and frustration that chilled my own heart. “Though I can’t be certain, I agree with Alex. Lauryn won’t talk about Jules. At least not to me.” Rosanna turned to me. “She won’t leave her chamber, Alex. Will you go to her?”

  “Of course.” Anders started to follow as I headed up the garden path, but I shook my head. “Why don’t you tell the old witch about Sernyn? It’ll save you precious time sneaking around behind my back.” Once past the garden gate, I flew up the stairs to Jules and Lauryn’s apartment, cursing Jules with every step I climbed. “Lauryn.” I knocked several times, but there was no immediate response. “Lauryn, it’s Alex. Open up, please.”

  The door slipped open a crack, revealing blue eyes, puffy from weeping and red from lack of sleep. Lauryn flung back the door and fell sobbing into my arms the moment I shut the door. I let her weep, waiting until she pulled back, sniffling.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I can’t believe what you just said,” I scolded, shaking her gently. “Lords of the sea, what are you apologizing to me for?”

  She graced me with a crooked smile. “I’m sorry for being sorry.”

  “That’s better.”

  “Be right back.” Lauryn disappeared into a side chamber, still sniffling, and returned with a chilled bottle of Marain Valley wine.

  “Even better.” I uncorked the bottle, and poured us both a glass of the cool, light wine, hoping that it signified Lauryn’s agreement to talk about what had happened.

  “There’s not a sign of them. Why would anyone want to hurt Khrista and Kerrie? Why would anyone want to harm my children? I know they’re a nuisance in your schoolroom, Alex,” Lauryn made a feeble attempt at humor, “but they’re only six-years-old.”

  Considering my answer, I put my glass on the low wooden table and made myself comfortable on the plush rug in front of the fireplace. “Here’s one possible motive to think about.” Lauryn watched from her perch on the arm of the low chair opposite me, as I explained my theory. “It may have been related to me in some way. Maybe it has to do with Charlton Ravess,” I said with caution, avoiding Erich’s name because Erich would inevitably lead to Elena, and El
ena would inevitably lead to Jules.

  Flameblast them both.

  “Maybe the firemage wanted to strike out at me through the boys. I never made a secret of how much I adore them.” When Lauryn gave me a scathing look and rolled her eyes, I demanded, “What?”

  “I can’t believe you’re blaming yourself. You’d better stop that right now.”

  “It’s possible.”

  “Yes,” she said evenly, sipping her wine. “Yes, it is. And whoever is responsible for kidnapping them may not know that Charlton Ravess is dead. Or that Erich Harwoode is dead, and his grieving lover needs consoling, since she was the one who executed the traitor with her own bloody sword.”

  I winced at the open bitterness in her voice. “Ah.” I fumbled for something intelligent to say, but came up with nothing.

  Lauryn’s expression changed. “I know the kidnapping is not Jules’s fault, but I can’t help blaming him somehow.” Her control slipped as tears slid down her cheek, brushed away by an impatient swipe of her hand.

  “You don’t know—”

  She bowed her head, face hidden by long, auburn hair. “No, I don’t, do I? But he hasn’t made it easy for me to stray from trusting him.”

  “Elena had a hand in this fiasco.”

  “Elena just killed her lover, Alex. She’s not thinking clearly. If she was thinking with her head and not her heart, Elena wouldn’t resent or blame you, now, would she? Jules—” Lauryn struggled for control against rising panic and hurt. “Jules isn’t important now. My boys are all that matter. And I want them back.”

  * * * *

  “Where do you think you’re going this late in the day?”

  “To find Jules.” Back in our cottage, I continued packing fresh gear, ignoring Anders’s loud, irritated sigh.

  “You know where he is?”

  “I have a good idea.”

  Anders stuck his face mere inches from mine. “Does Lauryn know?” When I shook my head, refusing to say more, and instead reached for an extra tunic, he said, “I’m coming with you.”