Borrowed Magic (5 page)

She’d almost persuaded herself Teige
couldn’t possibly be responsible for her pain, that it was all a
coincidence. Until he passed her in the hall earlier that morning,
and his mere presence made her shoulder ache.

Teige didn’t appear to have any idea the
effect he had, and she didn’t want to go to Daric and Adare,
accusing one of Tredare’s heroes of…well, she didn’t know what. It
would just add to their worry. And she couldn’t do that. Not after
everything they’d been through.

But the pain was getting worse, and she had
to find out why. She had to stop it before it became
unbearable.

And that wasn’t her only worry. Something
was off about Philip’s account of Kern’s death. It had been tugging
at her subconscious for days.

Thirteen years ago it took every sorcerer
Daric could find to lock Kern in that tomb. All their spells only
held him for ten. And yet, when Philip explained how he killed
Kern, it seemed too easy. It was almost like Philip was holding
something back, as if he hadn’t told the whole story.

And maybe she didn’t need the whole story.
Kern was dead. That’s all that truly mattered.

Still, Philip didn’t have magic, and being
Kern’s son didn’t give him some kind of godlike power. He was only
a man. Kern was the darkest mage in recent memory.

And that memory didn’t fade easily.

“I hoped I might find you here.”

She jumped so suddenly that her book thumped
to the ground. Philip stood a few feet away, just on the edge of
the clearing, as if he was unsure whether to go any further.

Uncomfortable with his scrutiny, she reached
for her book, but Philip was there first. “You always came here
when something was troubling you,” he commented as he began dusting
off the worn leather cover. And then he stopped, staring at the
title.

His eyes flicked to her in surprise and she
blushed, wishing she’d chosen another book, any other book, today.
He carefully opened the front cover and scanned the inscription.
For one breathless moment, she waited.

“Life is good, if joy holds
it. But some, not recognizing their fortune, complain; I side with
the first since I can’t deny I have my share of the
best
,” he quoted softly before handing the
book back. “Who would have known my small gift would contain so
much truth.”

“That’s what poetry is,” she said, running
her hand over the well-worn cover. “Truth in beautiful words.”

An uncomfortable silence stretched between
them like a stone wall. Too thick to go through and too high to go
over.

“I came to apologize for
the other night,” he finally said. “About your father.
I’m
sorry.”

She couldn’t meet his eyes. “It’s all right.
You didn’t know.”

“But I should have,” he groaned. “I spent
half my youth in his library. I respected him more than almost
anyone I’ve ever known. I loved him,” he finished in a ragged
whisper.

She had to fight back the tears that stung
her eyes.

Philip clasped his hands behind his back and
took a frustrated breath. “Maren, can’t we start over?”

Her first instinct was “yes.” She wanted it
more than anything. But Philip still didn’t trust her. He’d hurt
her. Worse than anyone. He could do it again.

“I’m sorry, I just....” She picked up her
book and stood. “I have to go. Adare is expecting me.” She walked
past him and glanced back once she reached the path. “Good day, My
Lord.”

The expression that crossed his face
actually looked like hurt. “Do you have to call me that? We’ve
known each other since we were children. I wanted to marry you. I
loved you.”

She flinched at his use of the past tense.
“Did you? Then you had a funny way of showing it. You left without
even saying goodbye, without a word. For three years I wondered if
you were dead or hurt or....”

She turned away before he could see the
tears threatening to spill over.

“And what was I supposed to do?” he asked.
“Do you have any idea what it’s like finding out your father is the
darkest mage in recent memory?” He threw his hands in the air. “How
was I supposed to react?”

“You could have turned to the people who
loved you instead of running away.”

“I thought if I left, everyone would be
better off.” His voice was tight with carefully-controlled emotion.
“I thought Kern would leave everyone else alone.”

“When he’d already vowed to get his revenge
on Daric?” she asked in disbelief. “Instead Kern killed my father
and your true parents, the ones who loved and raised you. Did you
realize you’d left them to die? Did you even know they were
dead?”

“I found out a few months ago,” he managed,
although his voice broke at the end.

Her heart ached for him and some of her
anger faded. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. What Kern did
wasn’t your fault. He would have killed them anyway.”

“And yet I’m ridden with guilt. All I do is
hurt everyone around me.”

She couldn’t disagree with that, so she
didn’t say anything.

“I want to be your friend,” he finally
said.

Friends. No, she couldn’t do that. She
couldn’t just be his friend. That would, somehow, be even
worse.

“With someone you don’t even trust?” she
asked. “You’ve already proved how well that works.”

He let out a frustrated growl. “You didn’t
tell me the truth. After everything we’d been through.”

Her hands balled into fists. “How many times
do I have to say it? I. Didn’t. Know.”

He drew his brows together, as if finally
seeing something he’d been too blind to notice.

But she wasn’t done. Pent up anger put words
in her mouth without any thought. “But you wouldn’t believe me, the
person you claimed to love. Instead, you drove me away, left me
alone to face death and starvation.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice conveying
all the sorrow and regret she could have hoped for.

But it was too late. “For which part?”

“All of it. Leaving, what happened to you
while I was gone. But most of all for not believing you. Not
trusting you.”

“And that’s just supposed to erase the
past?” she asked. “I don’t even know where you’ve been or what
happened to you.”

He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter!” she yelled. “Trust. That’s
what it all boils down to. You want me to trust you even though you
didn’t believe me when I was telling the truth.”

“What happened to me isn’t a matter of
trust.”

“No,” she said. “But the fact that you won’t
tell me is. You want to be friends? To start over? I need to know
who the person is I’d start over with. Two years is a long time.
You’ve changed.”

He didn’t deny it, didn’t say anything, and
it was like her heart broke all over again. She felt a sob rising
in her chest and turned to leave.

“Maren, wait.”

He grabbed her arm hard enough in just the
right place that it sent a stab of pain through her shoulder. She
winced and pulled away.

“I’ve hurt you!” He tried to reach for her
but she backed away.

“It’s nothing. I’m fine.” But she wasn’t.
Her shoulder felt like fire. It was obviously getting worse.

“Maren.” His concern sounded genuine.
“Please let me walk you to the castle or at least get someone who
can help.”

She forced herself to stand
straight. “No, thank you,
My
Lord
. I’ve been fine on my own for three
years. I think I can make it to the castle.”

His face reddened in anger and he took a
step back, leaving her free to seek the comfort of her room, and
the tears that weren’t just because of the pain.

Four

Maren’s life felt like one big mess
of confusion. With Philip. With the ever-growing and
all-too-familiar pain. With everything.

She felt off balance, lost. She was a
different person than before the siege. Then, anytime society had
been too much, she’d been able to escape with her father. She
helped him repair books, catalog his latest acquisitions, small
things that didn’t matter outside his library. They mattered to
her.

Even during the siege, her life had meant
something. Every day, she and Adare had gone into the city to help
with the sick and hungry. They’d cooked, washed, played with the
children, and shown the people that the queen still had hope. When
Maren wasn’t in the city, she was often with the Council. Well,
what was left of the Council, those who were trapped inside
Delorme’s walls. It wasn’t an official position, but Daric needed
advisors. And she was her father’s daughter. Not that she felt
qualified. But she knew more about Kern than anyone.

He’d become an obsession.
Every minute of her free time had been spent searching through
books, looking for a way to defeat him. He’d taken the two men she
loved most – stolen them from her – and he couldn’t get away with
it. Someone had to find a way to stop him. There
had
to be a
way.

And then there was now. The city no longer
needed her. The true Council had reconvened. She felt useless,
unsure of her place or what was expected of her or of anything
except a restless energy that pulled at her, wanting something she
couldn’t identify.

She picked up her pace, anxious to get away
from the castle – even if just for a little while.

She didn’t get far before the wind wrapped
her in the sound of laughter. It caught her off guard, and her
heart squeezed itself into a tight ball. It was Philip’s laughter,
achingly familiar – even after three years of its absence. Over the
past few days, she’d heard him make a hollow sound that passed for
laughter: polite, contrived, forced. But this was different. This
was true and pure, emanating from somewhere deep inside him.

She followed the sound with an indescribable
need. She only knew that something about Philip hadn’t changed,
that underneath everything she didn’t understand, was something she
did.

He stood on the training field with a few
hundred soldiers. They were lined up in neat rows, smiles belying
their rigid formation. One soldier stood next to Philip, his arm
draped around his shoulders, as Philip shook with now-silent
laughter.

Something about the obvious friendship
between the two men made the emptiness in her chest ache. She’d
known it was there, burning a hole right through her, but hadn’t
wanted to think about it. Now she was forced to. But she didn’t
know what to think. Seeing Philip like this almost filled a part of
her emptiness. At the same time, it made it all the more empty –
regretting what she no longer had.

Philip pulled away and gave the soldier a
friendly shove.

“All right, that’s enough for now,” he said
in a voice loud enough to carry. “We actually have work to do.”
Then he straightened his shoulders and faced the men. They all
followed suit, their smiles gone, their posture erect, their hands
firmly at their sides.

Philip shouted orders. A few men stepped
forward and practiced their sword skills. A second group formed in
a defensive posture. Another ran laps around the field. It was all
regimented, ordered, practiced, and above all, respectful. These
men saw Philip as a soldier, not a hero, not a charming boy. They
believed in him. They trusted him to train them, and then to keep
them from as much harm as possible.

She’d seen hints of this side of Philip,
before the siege, when she’d watched him training. He was
comfortable and relaxed, something she hadn’t seen from him since
his return. And in a moment of revelation, she realized Philip
might feel the same way she’d felt so often lately: like he didn’t
know where he fit. Kern was dead. The city was safe. What was
Philip’s role now?

Maybe being a hero was hollower than it
appeared.

“It’s really quite remarkable isn’t it?”

Her shoulder tightened in pain. So much for
avoiding Teige.

“It is,” she said. “To take farmers and
blacksmiths and whoever else he could find and turn them into this
is…well, it may be more than remarkable.”

“Philip is an extraordinary leader,” Teige
said. “He inspires things from his men I’ve never seen before. They
trust him absolutely. I believe they’d die for him.”

They loved him. That was something she
understood completely. Too completely.

She forced that thought away. Right now, she
needed to worry about Teige. She’d spent a lot of time considering
the effect he had on her, and had come to the only conclusion there
was: Magic. What she didn’t know was why, or how, he was causing
her injury to react. She’d read every book in her father’s study
during the siege, and although nothing directly related to her
injury, her best guess was that Teige had somehow obtained a
talisman that was affecting her. They weren’t very common, but
every once in a while one would pop up – a family heirloom, a gift,
something bought from an unsuspecting merchant.

He probably didn’t even know what he had. Or
that it was causing her so much pain.

She’d watched him carefully
over the past few days, looking for anything that might give her a
clue. The only possibility was a heavy gold chain that hung around
his neck. He always wore it, but that didn’t necessarily mean
anything. If he
did
have a talisman, it could be in a pocket, or hidden beneath
his tunic.

“Would you like to go down and watch?” Teige
asked, brushing his fingers over her elbow and causing the ache in
her shoulder to burn.

She motioned towards the gardens. “No, thank
you. I came out for a walk. I was just distracted for a
moment.”

“Then I’ll leave you to your walk.” He bowed
and gave her one of his most engaging smiles. “It was nice to see
you, as always.”