Borrowed Magic (29 page)

Her eyes went wide and something approaching
relief surged through her – until she realized what that meant.
Philip would be the next target for Kern. No matter what Kern’s
plans for the future, he wasn’t going to step aside in favor of his
son.

“What did you tell them?” she asked once the
initial shock had worn off.

“No.”

Relief flooded through her, and she took a
deep breath, fearing the answer to her next question. “Who was
their second choice?”

He didn’t move. “Teige. Kern. He’s with the
Council now, going over the details of the coronation. It’s to be
held tomorrow.”

She sank onto the chair behind her. “Why?”
she eventually asked. “Why did you refuse?”

He sat in the chair across from her and took
her hands in his. “Because I’m afraid. I’m afraid of what the power
will do to me. I’m afraid of being like Kern, of turning into him.
And besides, I think Kern will be more off his guard if he thinks
he’s gotten what he wants.”

Part of her could understand. Another part
of her couldn’t. He was good. No matter what power he had, no
matter who his father was, no matter what circumstances he was
faced with. He wouldn’t do any of the things he feared.

“Are you angry?” he asked after a heavy
silence.

She sighed. “No. But we can’t let Kern
become king. We have to go through with our plan.”

He leaned forward with his elbows on his
knees. “I know, but he’s been a mage a lot longer than I have. He
knows things I can only guess at.” He looked up at her, worry
etched into every facet of his face. “Are you sure you can do
it?”

She leaned her head against his shoulder.
“Yes.” Even though she’d convinced Philip to let her distract Kern
with the protection spell she’d found that day he’d first seen her
using magic, he still didn’t like it.

“Remember, you have to keep the spell strong
and don’t let him break through.”

“For how long?”

“I don’t know. Even with him directing a
portion of his magic towards you, it’s not going to be easy for me
to defeat him.”

“I won’t let him break through. I
promise.”

She’d never told him what had happened the
last time she’d used Kern’s magic to attack someone, the time when
it had almost killed her. It probably would this time, especially
using so much of it for so long against someone so powerful. But
Philip didn’t need to know that. He just needed to do what had to
be done.

“Remember, Kern will be distracted by the
coronation. He’ll have thought he’s won. He won’t be expecting us
to attack.”

“Especially with a room full of people who
could get hurt.”

His head dropped forward. “Let’s just hope
they don’t.”

Thirty-one

Philip was a
dozen feet to Maren’s right, standing just behind where Kern would
be in a few short minutes. She’d positioned herself so that Adare
was between her and Kira, who knew that on her signal, she had to
get Adare out. No matter what. So now they waited. A few whispers
could be heard here and there, but for the most part everyone was
silent.

Maren was so tense she couldn’t sit still,
constantly shifting her position and looking over her shoulder,
expecting Kern to walk through the doors at any moment. Finally,
the trumpets sounded and all eyes focused on the back of the room.
She used the commotion to glance once at Philip. He gave her a
nervous but reassuring smile and then straightened his
shoulders.

The doors swung open and Kern emerged,
dressed in formal court apparel. He walked down the aisle with his
head held high and a victorious glint in his eye until he stood
directly in front of the throne.

Lord Berk stepped forward. “Lord Teige, you
have been chosen as king. Do you accept this position?”

“Yes.”

“The coronation can begin.”

Lord Berk’s voice droned on, and time seemed
to slow as Maren’s nervousness climbed. She wanted to get Adare out
now, but waiting was key. If Adare left too early, there would be
questions, and Kern might notice the whispers. It needed to be at
the right time, when Berk listed the accomplishments of the
previous king – Daric. That’s when Maren knew Adare would break
down. And that would give them the perfect excuse for Kira to usher
the queen out. Unfortunately, it was also much too close to the end
of the ceremony, too close to when she and Philip would begin their
attack.

Finally, after what felt like eternity, Berk
mentioned Daric. As predicted, Adare’s tears turned to sobs the
entire room could hear. Maren nodded to Kira, who whispered
something to Adare, before they both stood and moved towards the
door. And then Maren heard the words that signaled it was time.

“…
promise to serve, to
protect, to defend, and to do everything in your power to ensure
the safety of this kingdom and its people.”

Now!
It was as if Philip’s voice was inside her head. She threw
him one last glance, saw him nod in acknowledgement, and then
focused her gaze on Kern and began muttering the protection spell
under her breath.

It worked immediately. Her shoulder burned
white hot and then cooled to a pleasant warmth before she’d
finished the first few lines.

It took exactly that long for Kern to sense
his own magic being used against him. She saw him stiffen in shock
and then whirl around, oblivious to Berk’s cries or the confusion
of the crowd.

Kern’s eyes scanned the room and finally
fell on her. And he knew.

For one short second he just stared. Then he
laughed. “You think your paltry little spell is going to stop
me?”

She ignored him, instead letting her voice
grow louder, focusing only on the words of the spell.

His eyes narrowed, and his magic hit her
with so much power she swayed on her feet. But she didn’t stop the
spell.

His face contorted with rage. “I was going
to do this the easy way, where no one gets hurt, but you’ve forced
my hand.”

His eyes scanned the room, and the world
slow to a stop. Kira was almost to the door, pulling on Adare’s arm
with all her might, but Adare wouldn’t move. She just stood there,
staring at Teige. The next second screams rent the room as fire
shot from Teige’s outstretched hands.

“NO!” Maren rushed forward, right into the
path of Kern’s magic. Pain, as excruciating as anything she’d ever
felt, hit her arm. She screamed, crumpling in a heap on the floor,
all thought except pain deserting her.

“Maren!” Philip’s voice carried across the
noise, and she saw him pushing through the frenzied crowd towards
her. “Don’t stop. You have to—”

Kern’s magic surged into her with a force
she’d never imagined possible. It threw her back against a group of
overturned chairs and sucked the breath from her lungs. Blood
trickled down the side of her face and she tried to climb to her
feet, but every part of her was consumed with agonizing pain.
Whatever Kern had done in the past had been a shadow of this. He’d
only been torturing her. Now he was trying to kill her. A scream
like she’d never heard ripped through the air, and on some remote
level of consciousness she felt numerous eyes staring at her in
horror.

She was the one screaming.

Kern pushed the pain deeper, attacking every
part of her. Muscle. Bone. Heart. Lungs. And then finally, it began
creeping into her brain, searching for the memories he’d taken in
the past. She wanted to beg him to stop, to at least let her face
her death. Because she knew she was going to die. Her body couldn’t
handle the torture again.

“Maren!” Philip called again. “Use the
spell! Please. Don’t give up. Do it for us.”

Even as she felt Kern’s magic stealing her
last threads of consciousness, the thought of Philip pulled her
back. But it wasn’t enough. She couldn’t fight against Kern’s
magic, couldn’t remember what she was supposed to do, or what was
happening, or even who she was.

Someone yelled in a terrifying rage that
made her wrap trembling hands around her head. The voice was
achingly familiar, even through the blinding pain and confusion,
but she squeezed her eyes shut, terrified at something she didn’t
understand. Then an explosion sent shock waves through the room and
she jerked, her eyes flying open as the magic that had captured her
mind lost some of its hold. Heavy smoke permeated every corner and
shrouded the air in darkness.

“Maren, now!” Philip. The voice belonged to
Philip.

The spell came with more effort this time,
and she couldn’t find the strength to voice the words, instead
repeating them in her mind. Eventually, the pressure inside her
head lessened. Kern’s magic retreated. She was alive. Barely.

A quick search found Philip and Kern a dozen
feet in front of her, locked in a magical battle. Black wisps of
terrible power made her blood run cold. Conjured wind whipped
through her hair and pulled at the edges of her dress. Philip
dodged something she couldn’t see and then fell to his knees.

No! With every last bit of strength she
could muster, she repeated the words of the spell over and over,
desperately clinging to the one hope she had. Protection. For
herself. And for Philip – the only person who could defeat Kern and
put an end to this madness.

Philip regained his footing and forced
something so full of fear and hate at Kern that it felt as if all
the light in the world was gone. Kern’s response was equally evil.
And although it was all spells and unseen horror, Maren felt fear
wind around her like a chain. She clung to the spell, ignoring the
sting of heat from the magical crossfire, ignoring the smell of
burnt fabric – and flesh – ignoring the crash of glass as windows
shattered. Instead, her eyes stayed locked on the two mages, father
and son, as they battled to the death.

And she kept repeating the spell.

Darkness gathered around Philip, as if he
were calling it to him, and then he threw it at Kern. For a split
second, Kern faltered and the world shifted.

Time seemed to stop, and the chaos, the
burning, the fear, all faded as new screams rent the air, this time
of disbelief and confusion.

Kern’s spell had
wavered
.
The
castle was revealed for what it truly looked like. Crumbling walls.
Cracked windows. Air filled with the smell of mildew and
disrepair.

Every eye turned on Kern, haunted,
accusatory, threatening. Kern backed away, the first glimpse of
doubt clouding his features.

His hold on her lessoned a little more.

She sucked in a deep breath and repeated the
words of the spell out loud. At first she could only manage a
whisper, but then a fraction of her strength returned, and she
crawled to her knees, only to see Philip and Kern locked in a fight
so fierce she couldn’t look away. Confusion reigned again. People
scattered at the display of power. Things she’d never imagined in
her darkest nightmares swirled through the room. Flashes of
terrible color flared, almost blinding her.

She forced her spell through the air,
yelling with as much power as she could. It was enough to let
Philip send something black and horrible towards Kern, but it
bounced right off.

Kern’s laughter rang in her ears. “Did you
really think you could defeat me?” Then his glance shifted to
her.

Her breath caught as his magic took back a
little of what it had lost, but the spell held. Philip attacked
again and Kern was forced to turn his attention back to the
battle.

She continued to scream the words of the
spell, even after her voice went hoarse. But the more she fought,
the more she allowed her emotions the escape they desired, the more
strength she found. The magic inside her came alive, becoming a
tangible force, calling to her.

She answered, finding each strand and
reaching out for it.

The battle around her raged on. Kern’s magic
pushed against her. But none of it mattered. All she thought about
was the spell and the borrowed magic she’d finally found a way to
control.

She gathered it some more, until she could
feel it just beneath her skin. Then she closed her eyes and pushed
with a power she never imagined she had.

Pain so intense she thought her chest had
ripped open surged through her as the magic pulled at her body, at
every part it had touched, at every part it had tortured.

She fell to her hands and knees and squeezed
her eyes closed as every bit of pain, every bit of magic, she’d
dealt with for so long disappeared, leaving her shaking and so weak
she could barely move.

She willed her eyes open, searching for
Philip. Instead, she was met with a small ball of blue light
floating just in front of her. Kern’s magic, the part that had been
trapped inside her for so long. Somehow, she’d pushed it out of her
body and her spell was holding it steady, a visible shield,
protecting against the magic Kern was using against her. But she
couldn’t keep it up much longer. She needed Philip.

He stood a few feet in front of her,
blocking Kern from her view.

“Philip.”

It was barely a whisper, but he spun around,
eyes widening as he saw the magic hanging in the air before
her.

Her vision blurred and the spell began to
falter. There was nothing to call on any longer, no more inner
reserves of strength that could help.

Philip knew it too. She could see the fear
and heartache in his eyes. He aimed another burst of magic at Kern
and stepped in front of her. Then he brought his arms close to his
body and muttered something before shoving his hands forward with
so much power it pushed his magic, her borrowed magic, and Kern’s
own magic right through Kern’s chest.

Kern just stood there for a second as rage
contorted his features. Then a look of shock and disbelief wiped
out everything else. He screamed, wrapping his hands around his
stomach and staggering towards her and Philip. He managed half the
distance and then collapsed into a heap on the ground.