Borrowed Magic (11 page)

“It’s nice to see him more relaxed,” Teige
commented. “He’s always so serious. Even after Kern had been
defeated, all he could think about was order and discipline. I
tried to convince him to enjoy himself, to pat himself on the back,
but he couldn’t.” He paused as a grin spread slowly across his
face. “He didn’t even bother to enjoy the company of all the
grateful ladies.”

“Maybe he had more important things on his
mind,” Maren commented. “Or lacks your natural ability to charm
everyone you meet.”

“Everyone except you.”

She didn’t respond, instead
turning back to watch Philip and his opponent take their places. It
was true that Teige was more charming than Philip. At least the
Philip she saw now, not the boy who’d always been the center of
attention. He’d matured. And she guessed it was more than just age,
but also more than leading an army to victory. He’d changed deep
down. Whatever that change was, whatever had driven the laughter
from his eyes, it had also given him the ability to earn people’s
respect – something harder to win than mere admiration. Respect,
over time, could transform into love and sincere devotion. It would
make people follow a leader without questions, trusting in him not
to lead them astray. Admiration, something Teige had in abundance,
was only a shadow of true respect.
It
could easily be lost, or shifted to the next person who made an
impression. And when it came down to choosing a leader, respect
would always win.

“His men respect him a great deal,” she
commented, hoping to draw him out more.

Teige nodded, his eyes fixed on Philip with
something that looked like pride. “They do. But what’s not to
respect? He’s the perfect leader.”

It was the most sincere thing she’d ever
heard him say. Maybe he truly did care for Philip. “And one of your
closest friends?” she prodded.

“Yes. Although friend might not be a strong
enough word. He’s more like the brother I always wished I had.”

Once again, she couldn’t detect even a hint
of disingenuousness. Maybe because he actually was Philip’s
brother, and they shared a hatred for an evil father who brought
them nothing but misery. Maybe he’d inherited his father’s magic
and used it to kill him. Now, he wanted a relationship with the
only family he had left. Only he was afraid to come out into the
open. Because he was afraid Philip would reject him? The people
certainly would if they knew Kern had a son with magic – even if
that magic had been used to kill Kern.

But what about that look
she’d seen him direct at Daric? Maybe she
had
imagined it. And maybe, in her
pain and fear, she’d also imagined that Teige was trying to hurt
her on purpose that day in town. Because whatever she might have
thought or imagined, Teige
had
helped kill Kern. She kept coming back to that
one undeniable fact.

“Don’t worry.” Teige’s voice whispered so
close she could feel his breath against her ear. “He won’t
lose.”

She hadn’t realized her hands were clenched
in her lap or that Philip’s match was underway. “I’m not worried. I
don’t care who wins.”

He chuckled and focused back on the fight.
It only took moments to realize that Teige was right. Philip wasn’t
going to lose. In fact, he was going to win with barely any effort.
He’d been handy with a sword three years ago. Now he was an expert.
He beat every opponent he faced. It did get more challenging as
each round went by. Philip didn’t win as easily, but he won.
Eventually there were only two men left, Philip and a man a good
six inches taller and twice as broad, who she’d watched with both
awe and dread in the other rounds. He was the only competitor so
far who had actually injured his opponent – and on more than one
occasion. She clenched her hands together and waited.

Philip’s first thrust was blocked and he
side-stepped the slice the larger man followed with. After that it
was a battle of speed versus strength. Philip avoided everything he
was confronted with, but he was getting tired. His movements were
slower. His attacks didn’t have the force they’d had earlier. His
opponent, on the other hand, had brute strength to rely on. His arm
was longer, reaching Philip with greater ease. He didn’t have to
waste as much energy maneuvering out of Philip’s way. Her
fingernails dug into her palms as the big man sent Philip reeling
backwards before regaining his balance.

Teige laughed under his breath. “And I
thought you didn’t care.”

She ignored him and kept her eyes focused on
the fight.

“I told you he won’t lose,” Teige said, his
voice full of what sounded almost like pride. “He won’t even be
injured. Just watch.”

She hoped Teige was right, that Philip’s
strength and endurance would hold out, but when the next thrust
went straight through his sleeve, her hand flew to her mouth, only
to relax when Philip wasn't injured.

“He’ll end it now,” Teige whispered.

She turned. “Are you watching the same fight
I am? He’s almost spent.”

“He
looks
almost spent.”

“What do you mean?”

He smiled. “Watch.”

Philip grasped his sword in both hands and
lunged. The larger man, thinking Philip was slowing down, hadn’t
anticipated it, and his sword was knocked from his hands and onto
the dirt at his feet.

He stared at it for a moment in shock and
then doubled over in what she realized was laughter. A genuine
smile pulled at Philip’s mouth as he shook his opponent’s hand
before the larger man threw his arm around Philip’s shoulders and
steered him towards Daric.

“Well, Lady Maren?” Teige asked.

“How did you know?”

“Because I’ve seen Philip fight a thousand
times. His opponents always underestimate him. One of the biggest
mistakes anyone can make.” His eyes burned into hers, engraining
those last words into her mind and making her question every
generous thought she’d just had about him.

“Is it a mistake you’ve ever made?”

“Once.” His mouth hardened into a thin line.
“I’ll never do it again.”

The charming Teige from earlier was gone,
replaced by a man with a past. The same past she’d questioned time
and time again.

Which left her as confused as ever. Teige
helped kill Kern. The question was why. Did he hate Kern? Or did he
want Kern out of the way for some other reason? Once again, she
thought back to that day he’d looked at Daric with something like
hatred. With Kern out of the way, Daric would be a much easier
target. But what could Daric have done to earn such animosity?

“Ladies and Gentleman, may I have your
attention?” Daric’s voice cut through her consciousness.

“I have the great pleasure of presenting
your champion, Lord Philip.”

Cheers and applause swept through the crowd
until Daric waved them to silence.

“And now for his reward.” Daric motioned
behind him. “Lady Kira?”

She stepped forward and offered Daric her
hand. He placed it in Philip’s. “A day spent with Lady Kira.”

More cheers and applause, this time mixed
with a few inappropriate remarks that made Maren frown and ended
with a chant of “kiss her, kiss her” – which made her frown even
more.

Daric laughed, Kira pretended to blush, and
a slow smile spread across Philip’s face. Then he leaned forward,
slipped both hands around Kira’s waist, and kissed her full on the
mouth. For a long time.

The crowd went wild with laughter and
genuine enjoyment, but Maren could only stare. She realized a part
of her still hoped they could somehow work things out, come to some
kind of understanding. A part of her hoped Philip would eventually
realize he could trust her. A part of her hoped he still cared.

But watching him with Kira, seeing his body
shake with laughter as he pulled back and waved to the crowd, all
her hope fled. She’d told him to trust her or let her go.
Apparently he’d made his decision.

She pulled herself to her feet, desperate to
get away.

Teige blocked her path. “So you do
care.”

She shrank from his outstretched hand and
fled the other direction.

Eleven

Maren slammed the door to her
bedroom and went straight to the wardrobe. She flung the door open
and pulled out the bottom drawer. After shifting through its
contents and coming up empty, she tried the next drawer. Again,
nothing. It was the same with every drawer. The box containing her
jewelry didn’t produce anything either. She groaned in frustration
and looked around, her eyes finally stopping on the small bookshelf
in the corner.

She crossed the room in a few strides and
pulled out two books on the very top shelf. Reaching behind them,
she drew out a heavy, silver signet ring set with a black
stone.

For a few minutes all she
could do was stare. “
I don’t want anything
to remember you by
.” Philip’s final words
before he left.

And his final insult.

She’d given him the ring on his twelfth
birthday. At the time, her father said he’d found it on accident
while doing research. She knew now it hadn’t been an accident. The
ring was old, crafted hundreds of years ago, and made to protect
anyone in Philip’s family from magic.

Until the day he left, Philip had never
taken it off.

Now as she looked at it, her only emotion
was sorrow. She wished she could give it back to him, give him
something that would offer him protection – just in case. But in
case of what? Kern was dead. But Teige wasn’t. And whatever Philip
might think of him, Teige had secrets.

Unfortunately, Philip wouldn’t accept the
ring. Like he said, he didn’t want to be reminded of her.

She slid the ring onto her finger and closed
her eyes, willing herself to accept the inevitable and move on. If
only it were that easy.

She grabbed the two books she’d taken down,
went to replace them, and stopped. The scene that met her eyes was
her bedroom, but not the bedroom she recognized. The draperies that
hung at the windows, barely a month old now, were in shreds, with
large moth-eaten holes allowing light to stream through. Her
bedding, the rugs on the floor, even the upholstery was in much the
same condition. She took a step forward, her eyes widening in
disbelief. Paint splintered and peeled from the walls, revealing
cracks obviously inhabited by rats. She shivered and leaned against
the bookshelf, tearing the ring from her fingers.

Then she slowly looked around. Everything
was back to normal, repaired, the way it should be. She slipped the
ring back on.

Once again the room changed – as if the
siege had never ended, as if nothing had ever been done.

But it didn’t make sense. Philip’s ring
protected from the effects of magic. It didn’t change reality.

She walked over to her bed and rubbed her
fingers along the worn fabric of her blanket. It was so thin in
places she could see right through it. The edges were frayed. The
color faded.

She pulled the ring off and reached for the
blanket again. It was silky and luxurious and beautiful. It felt
real.

It had the first time, too.

Her head spun and she sank onto a nearby
chair. They couldn’t both be real. Either everything was beautiful
and soft or everything was even worse than she remembered.

But she’d seen the supplies piled in the
streets. She’d watched the castle transform as things got back to
normal. It wasn’t some kind of a dream. Daric and Philip had made
sure things got done. They’d asked Teige…

Her body shook uncontrollably as the truth
hit her. Philip’s ring protected against magic. When she put it on,
magic wouldn’t affect her – or how she saw things. The world she
thought was real wasn’t. It was a magical façade, created to hide
the truth.

And the only one she knew who could do
something like that was Lord Teige, the man who had overseen the
rebuilding and assured them all that everything was back to
normal.

Bile rose in her throat and she forced it
down. Why? Why would he put a spell on the entire city? Why make
everyone think things were better? What was he trying to
accomplish?

She looked down at the ring lying on her
palm but didn’t put it back on. The thought of what else she’d see
once she left her room made her sick.

And then she realized – the ring shouldn’t
work for her. It only protected members of Kern’s family. Her hand
went to the injury in her shoulder. She wasn’t connected to Kern by
blood, but they did have a connection. His magic was inside her,
hurting her, killing her. What if it also marked her as a member of
his family?

She needed to show Philip. He was the only
other person who could see the truth.

She clutched the ring so tightly it dug into
her skin, but she didn’t care. Nothing mattered except stopping
Teige from whatever he was trying to do. She all but ran into the
hallway and made her way downstairs. A waiting footman informed her
Philip was in the drawing room.

But he wouldn’t be alone. He’d won the day
with Kira.

She almost changed her mind, imagining how
it would look if she interrupted them and asked to speak to Philip
alone. Kira wouldn’t like it. Philip probably wouldn’t either.

But this was too important to wait.

She plunged ahead, only stopping at the door
to take a deep breath. Then she stepped into the room.

Instead of being stared at by two pairs of
eyes as she’d expected, she felt eight, all boring into her and
none of them friendly. Panic and embarrassment threatened and she
was briefly at a loss.

“Was there something you needed, Maren?”

Philip’s voice, aloof and too polite,
shocked her from her paralysis. “I…I needed to—”