Thirty

Maren gazed at the funeral pyre in silence. The heat was so intense she briefly wondered if it might burn her skin. Not that it mattered. Daric had given her everything. She hadn’t even been able to save his life. The least she could do was stand here until the end, when only the embers glowed against the night sky.

She’d never wanted to arrange for Daric’s funeral, but she had. Adare was in no condition to do anything. Philip was busy with the troops and making sure something like this didn’t happen again. Kern would have volunteered, but that was something Maren couldn’t allow. It would have been insulting to Daric’s memory. So the task had fallen to her, the only remaining member of the royal family – even if it had only been for a few days.

Tomorrow morning, in light of there being no heir and the law not allowing Adare to inherit the throne, a new king would be chosen by the Council. If it was Kern… She wrapped her arms around herself. If it was Kern, then unless she could come up with something by tomorrow evening, he’d be crowned the next day. If the Council didn’t choose Kern… She didn’t even want to consider what would happen. Who else he’d torture.

She shuddered. She’d only seen Kern once since yesterday, had spent most of her time comforting Adare and arranging for the funeral. He’d spent most of his time meeting with the Council. But just after sundown, as she left Adare’s chambers so exhausted she could barely stand, she’d almost run right into him. He looked down at her with an expression so self-satisfied she thought she might be sick. Instead, she took a step back and raised her chin.

An appreciative light entered his eyes and he gave her a mocking bow. “My Lady.”

She felt him pull away the familiar pain without even touching her and tried not to show her relief. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction – not when she could use his own magic and do it herself. Instead, she’d turned and without a backward glance stormed down the hall.

Now, the flames were almost gone, and the crowd had thinned considerably. Even Adare had allowed herself to be led to her room. Maren sighed and looked towards the castle, only to meet Kern’s gaze. She prepared to do exactly what she’d done the night before, but he blocked her path.

She scowled. “I know you did this.”

A hint of a smile touched his lips. “The young man did this. He admitted it. You heard him yourself.”

“No.” She took a step back. “You did this.”

“And what if I did?” he asked. “What difference does it make? Daric’s still dead. I will still be king. And you…” He stepped forward and ran a finger along her cheek. “You will still be my wife.”

She slapped his hand away. “I hate you.”

He almost laughed. “I’m sure you do. But you also need me. I don’t know how you’ve gotten through an entire day without my help.”

She wanted to tell him, to throw it right in his face, that she used his own magic every chance she had. Instead she folded her arms across her chest. “It must be sheer willpower.” She tried to step around him, but he caught her around the waist.

He brushed his lips against her forehead, and she felt the tiniest bit of pain evaporate before she pulled herself out of his arms.

He only smiled in a way that made her want to hit him. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning to take your pain. As much as you’d like it, I’m not going to let you die on me quite yet.”

“You’re not going to get away with this,” she said as soon as his back was towards her.

He slowly turned. “You’d better hope I do. If my plans were upset at this stage, I might have to hurt someone. No matter what I promised. You wouldn’t want that. It’s what you’ve been fighting for all along. Don’t forget it.”

Maren stared at the pyre. She wasn’t going to forget, but she was going to stop him from hurting anyone else. Somehow.

 

* * *

 

Hours later, surrounded by piles of books that tumbled all around her, Maren wasn’t quite so optimistic. She’d searched everything, not even bothering to be careful or put everything away when she was done. Her father would have been appalled. She wished Philip and Kira could have helped, but Philip was with Kern, making security arrangements for the trial. And Kira was with Adare. It was probably better anyway. They’d risked too many meetings lately.

Tonight, she’d focused her search on poisons. Some weren’t powerful enough. Some worked too slowly. Some listed ingredients she’d never heard of or couldn’t get in time. None were exactly right. If she could have gone to Halef, he might have been able to help. If she knew of another powerful mage… If. It always came down to that one little word.

She put her head in her hands and realized they were shaking. One day. Not enough time. Even if she did have a plan that actually had a chance of working.

She climbed off the sofa and wandered to the window, looking out over a city in mourning. Candles flickered in windows. Everything else was dark.

She rubbed her eyes, so tired she could barely think straight, but it didn’t matter. She needed to do something. She rubbed her eyes again and turned, determined to search until she found an answer – or she was dead.

The door clicked shut behind her, and she turned to see Philip. There were shadows under his eyes and he sank into a chair, exhausted. Then he dropped his face into his hands and shuddered before meeting her eyes.

“Daric’s death is partly my fault. I could have prevented it. Maybe.”

She rushed over and put her arms around him. “Then it’s partly my fault too. I’ve known all along what he was. I could have—”

“There’s something I haven’t told you.”

She waited as the silence built into something tangible.

Finally, Philip thrust a hand through his hair. “When I discovered Kern was my father, I was more afraid than I’d ever been. I didn’t want to have his blood in me. I didn’t want to be him. I think that’s why I said those terrible things to you. Because I hated who I was, I thought you did too.”

“But that’s not who you are,” she insisted.

“I could have been. A different father figure and I would have been. It’s in me.” He took a deep breath. “That’s one of the reasons I left, to discover how much like Kern I really was. I went to find out how much magic I had. I didn’t want to tell you where I was those first two years because I hated myself.” He reached for her again, as if having her near would somehow make what he had to say easier. This time she didn’t pull away. The pain in his eyes was too much. “I went to an old woman, a mage I’d heard about when I was growing up. I told her who I was and that I wanted to know how much power I had.

“At first she was skeptical, didn’t believe Kern had a son. But then she began to train me and she knew, just as I did, that I am my father’s son. I’ve never told anyone what happened during those two years, not even my father when I thought he was Teige. So he didn’t know during that final battle that I’d spelled my sword, hoping that magic would work where a normal blade wouldn’t. It might have surprised him, but I doubt it. He must have known I had magic. He used it to his advantage, pretending to die in a way I would actually believe. Looking back, what little magic I used would never have killed him. I should have known that at the time. But I wanted him gone, and it was easier to believe he was.”

His voice became more desperate, and she sensed how difficult this was, how hard he’d struggled to come to terms with his own identity.

“But Kern still doesn’t know the whole truth.”

He went silent, and she felt as if he’d retreated to a different place. “What is the truth, Philip?” she prompted.

He leaned his head against hers and closed his eyes. Then he pulled back and held out his hand, palm up. A blue sphere appeared, hovering just above his hand. It glowed with such intensity it could have lit up a dark room. She stared, torn between amazement and horror. It was the same glowing blue as the lines that traced her body from Kern’s own magic.

“I’m a mage,” Philip said, crushing the light into his fist. “Not just a mage with a little magic. And not untrained. I have more power than I ever imagined. Even the woman who trained me couldn’t believe what I could do. Sometimes I could see the fear lurking in the back of her eyes at the ease with which I learned. After two years, she told me to leave. There was nothing more she could teach me. But it was more than that. She was scared. Of me.”

Maren wished the woman was alive so she could strangle her. “Then she didn’t know you.”

“Maybe not, but she knew what I could do. It was enough.”

No wonder the smile had gone from his eyes. “No, Philip.” She took his face in her hands. “You are not Kern. I don’t care how powerful you are or what kind of misguided logic you have convinced yourself to believe. You are good.”

He smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I know. It took me a long time to realize that, but I do know. And when she made me leave, I was determined to prove it. That’s why I went after Kern.” His jaw clenched. “But there’s a part of me that could be like him, that could relish the power. Even now, I want to kill him. My own father, Maren. I want to watch him die.” His arms tightened around her. “Especially now, after what he’s done to you. And Daric. And the rest of Tredare.”

For a minute, she just let him hold her, forgetting about everything except how it felt to be loved. “That’s how you knew you weren’t under a spell. Whatever Kern did wouldn’t work on you.”

He actually laughed. “I’ve placed so many protective wards around myself that there isn’t a mage alive who could put that kind of a spell on me.” His arms tightened around her. “I want you to go away. I’ll take you. I can protect you from him until this is over. And then…” He struggled to keep his voice level. “And then…”

“And then I’ll die,” she finished for him. “That’s the one thing we can’t change. But I can’t leave. I won’t let you do this alone.

“Then we have to find a way to kill him.”

She frowned. “How? Even you can’t just walk up to him and put a knife through his heart. I’m sure he has as much protection as you do.” She paused, filled with more hope than she’d felt in a long time, as another thought, one she should have already considered, hit her. “Why can’t you use your magic?”

“No!” He shook his head. “No.” This time his voice was quieter. “I don’t want to use magic. That’s what he’d do.”

“But you’re not him!”

“I can’t.” He ran a hand over his face. “I’m afraid I’ll lose myself or do something I’ll regret. I’m afraid someone else will get hurt. And I don’t even know that I could defeat him.”

She stood and paced in front of him. “What if he was distracted? What if he had to split his magic?”

Philip’s brows creased. “Maybe, but who else could distrac—” Realization hit. “No! It’s not going to be you.”

“It has to be me.” She swallowed hard. “He sensed when I used his magic before. With the right spell, he’d sense it again, and he’d be distracted enough for you to kill him. Especially since he doesn’t know how powerful you really are.”

Philip grabbed her by the arms. “No!” The anger in his eyes was frightening, but she didn’t look away. Eventually, his head fell forward, his eyes closed in acceptance.

She placed a hand against his cheek. “We have to try.”

He brushed a lock of hair behind her ear and smiled sadly. “I just wish there was another way. Killing Kern means losing you.” He leaned his forehead against hers. “I don’t know how I’m going to live without you. You’ve been part of my life for almost as long as I can remember, and I’ve loved you for most of it.”

There was nothing she could say. No words of comfort. No reassurance. Nothing.

He wiped away her tears and then bent and pressed his lips against hers, softly at first, as if she were fragile. But when her own arms went around his neck, he responded with a desperation she’d never felt before. And she knew he was accepting the inevitable. He was going to lose her after just finding her again. He pulled her closer, pouring all his fear, his love, his heartache, and his soul into hers.

 

* * *

 

Maren paced back and forth across her room. Adare was truly asleep for the first time in two days, and the Council was meeting to decide the new king. She’d wanted more than anything to attend, but she’d been refused. Only the Council and five or six men they’d specifically invited were allowed in – among those Kern and Philip. The new king would be chosen from among those in the room. They’d been closed inside their chamber for most of the morning and stayed through lunch. No one had gone in or out. And she was tired of waiting.

She sat down and put her head in her hands for a long time, focusing on breathing in and out and trying not to think about the certain outcome of the Council meeting. When she couldn’t stand it anymore, she raised her head, determined to sit outside the Council door until someone emerged and told her what was going on.

Instead she saw Philip, standing hesitantly just inside her bedroom door.

“Well?” she finally dared after a few silent moments.

He ran a hand over his face. “They asked me to be king.”

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.”