Lisa Shearin - All Spell Breaks Loose

Mychael’s blue eyes sparkled. “Jealous?”

“Just defending my territory.”

I stepped in close and took his face in my hands. The stubble was nice, sexy nice. The paladin would have shaved for the wedding; Mychael had opted not to. He was relaxed, but most of all he was happy.

“We’ll be returning to Mid tonight,” Mychael said. “Justinius and Vegard will be waiting for us.”

“I’ll give both of them a kiss smack-dab on the lips. I cannot wait to get home.”

“Do you mean Mid—or Mermeia?” he asked quietly.

I knew what he was asking, and I was going to be honest with him and myself. Over the past few days my magic had come back. Not the catastrophic, taking-over-the-world power. Just mine, plus a little extra. Not impressive as most mages went, but I liked it. I would have eventually gotten used to not having magic, but it was a big part of me; and to be honest, words couldn’t describe how glad I was to have it back.

Mychael was waiting for an answer.

“I don’t know,” I said frankly. “It depends.”

“On what?” His eyes searched my face, uncertain.

“I had a life in Mermeia, with people there who love me and need me.”

“You have someone who loves you right here,” Mychael said softly. “And needs you.”

I laid a hand on his chest. “I know; and I love you, too.”

“There’s a ‘but’ in there. What is it?”

“What would I do on Mid?”

Mychael’s hands went to my shoulders, and he gazed down at me. “You could marry me.”

There was a difference between eventually expecting to be asked a particular question and actually hearing it. I kind of stopped breathing there for a minute. “Marry?”

Mychael bent his head and his smiling lips brushed mine. “Me.”

I actually took a breath and then managed to exhale, too. I was on a roll. “Marry you?”

Mychael kept his lips close to mine. “That was the question.”

“And if I agreed to become the wife of the paladin, what would I do?”

“Do?”

I pulled back from him. “Yes, do. I’m not going to sit around the citadel all day waiting to shine your armor. I don’t do armor.”

Mychael looked so honestly horrified that I had to laugh.

“I have squires who do that,” he said.

“Sharpen swords?” I asked.

“An armorer.”

“Feed Kalinpar?”

“Junior knights.”

“Warm your bed?”

“Now, that position is open.” His voice was a husky whisper.

One corner of my lips curled in a tiny smile. “As nice as I know that job is, I need more.”

“I know.”

I knew I could set up shop in Mid or offer my seeking skills to the city watch as a consultant, and I’d be good at either one. But it wasn’t enough, not anymore. “I can’t go back to what I was before,” I said.

Mychael gave a low laugh. “So now that you’ve help save the world, you want more? Raine Benares, Danger Addict.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

His eyes shone. “How far would you go?”

I ignored the double entendre. “I want to help people. Really help people. I want to make a difference.” I winced. “That sounded hokey as hell, didn’t it?”

“I’ve heard the words before.”

“From who?”

“Almost every Guardian candidate.” He gave me a long, appreciative look. Imala’s gown did look amazing. “You’d make our uniform look good.”

“You run an all-boys club, remember? Though Justinius’s granddaughter is working to change that, and I think she’s right. Besides, me and taking orders don’t go together.”

“I’m only too aware that you and orders are like oil and water. As to missing the people in Mermeia who love you, by the time Justinius is through cleaning house of Carnades’s Conclave allies, there are going to be quite a few high-level teaching positions vacant, some in the Guardians. I believe Justinius and Piaras’s grandmother, Tarsilia Rivalin, know each other.”

I cleared my throat. “Intimately.”

Mychael raised a brow. “Really?”

“And then some.”

“I would also like to see if I can’t talk your godfather into coming out of retirement. We’re going to have a large influx of cadets who will need specialized instruction. Tarsilia and Garadin’s talents and knowledge would be a much- needed addition to our curriculum.”

“Influx of cadets?”

“I think you know by now that Justinius likes shaking things up,” Mychael said.

I was instantly on guard. “Uh… yes, I noticed that.”

“Katelyn’s arguments haven’t been falling on deaf ears with the old man. He wants to begin admitting women into the Guardians—and he’d like for you to be the first.”

There were times when someone said something so completely unexpected that all you could do was stand there with your mouth open.

Eventually I managed to get out words. “And break a millennium of tradition?”

Mychael nodded. “Katelyn forced him to consider it, but it was you that influenced his final decision.”

“Me?” I was down to one word. Next I’d be speechless.

“Justinius said that if any Conclave mage questioned your or any woman’s qualifications for the job, that he’d point you in their direction, stand back, and enjoy the show.”

“The old man knows I can’t magically punch holes in walls—or mages—anymore, doesn’t he? And quite frankly, I’m glad I can’t.”

“He knows that. He also knows that five hundred Guardians aren’t enough anymore, and I agree. These past three months with the Saghred proved that.”

“The Saghred is gone. Nothing that big will happen again.”

Silence from Mychael.

Suddenly the crab puffs I’d plucked off a passing tray and eaten weren’t sitting so well. “You’re supposed to say, ‘No, that’ll never happen again.’”

“I can’t do that.”

“And why not?”

Mychael actually started ticking off items on his fingers. “Well, there’s this cursed ring that was last seen in the mountains of Mylora. I believe there were nine others forged around the same time.”

“Nine?”

“Plus the original one which makes ten. Then there’s a scepter in Nebia that one of the desert chieftains sold to a Caesolian crime cartel, which bears a striking resemblance to the legendary Scepter of Haz’Ghul.”

I just scowled at him. “Which does what?”

Mychael had to work to keep the smile off of his face, but he couldn’t keep it from his eyes. “It depends on the power of the person who has it during the full moon. And then there’s the mythical Treasure of Relmbek said to contain several magical objects that could be cataclysmic if they ended up in the wrong hands. Even worse, this treasure may not be mythical.”

“Lovely. Just lovely.”

“Its rumored location can only be reached by a nimble ship with a lunatic captain, and an even crazier crew.” One side of Mychael’s mouth curled in a crooked grin. “Would you happen to know a treasure-loving, seafaring madman?”

“I’m not even going to dignify that with a response. I take it you want my help with all of these?”

“And a few other similar items, like the occasional rogue black mage. I don’t want you in danger, but I know you won’t be happy unless you’re neck deep in it.” Mychael put his big hands around my waist and pulled me closer. “And I want you to be happy more than anything. This way you can do what you do best and know that you’re making a difference. Plus, you will be a shining example and inspiration to the first generation of female Guardians.”

“And just how do your men feel about this?”

“Surprisingly agreeable and open to the idea.”

I glanced over at Talon and grinned. “I think girl Guardians could even lure Talon back to Mid.”