Trial of Magic

by K. M. Shea

  Marzell squinted at his friends and fellow warriors. “Or maybe I should stay behind.”

  “It’s fine,” Snow White said. “You went through the trouble of setting the traps in case another magic attack was sent. You ought to check them and see if any were set off. As long as you remain within shouting distance—as you promised—we really will be fine.”

  Marzell pressed his lips together.

  “Angel will be with me,” Snow White added.

  Oswald—jamming his shoulder into Rupert’s—snorted. “That’s hardly reassuring! What will she do if something attacks? Throw a clove of garlic at it?”

  Angelique studied her nails. “No, my best garlic attack involves forcing a peeled clove up my target’s nose. Want to give it a try?”

  “It’ll be fine, Marzell,” Gregori rumbled.

  “You are needlessly worrying,” Rupert added. “We will have the cottage yard surrounded. Any attack would have to get through us before they could reach Snow White.”

  “Fine, fine.” A sigh leaked out of Marzell, partially deflating him before he smiled. “Do not hesitate to call for us.”

  “We won’t,” Snow White promised.

  Marzell nodded and joined his comrades, slipping into the forest where the mellow browns of their cloaks almost immediately camouflaged them with the trees.

  “Good luck.” Angelique waited only until she was sure Marzell wouldn’t let any of them circle back around. “Quick, Snow White, now is our chance!”

  Snow White followed her inside. “Our chance for what?”

  “I don’t know,” Angelique admitted. “It’s simply that we’re not left alone often, so this seems like the ideal time to poke around the cottage or to burn some of those ruddy portraits Aldelbert keeps giving us.”

  Snow White smiled like the good person she was. “I’m cleaning the mushrooms Wendal found this morning.”

  Angelique sighed and leaned against the table to display her disappointment. “Such a diligent and good future ruler.”

  Snow White silently retrieved the overflowing basket—which was a generous name for it since it was lopsided and some of the weave was coming undone—of mushrooms.

  Angelique watched her for a moment, then added, “You’ll make a good queen—though with your king, you two might go down in history as the quietest royals ever.”

  Snow White fumbled with her basket and dropped a few mushrooms on the floor. “What?” she squeaked.

  Angelique wiggled her eyebrows. “You can’t say you thought you and Fritz were keeping your mutual admiration a secret?”

  “I don’t know—mutual admiration? What makes you think—there’s been no indication,” Snow White babbled.

  Angelique patted Snow White’s hand and impishly smirked. “Don’t you worry. Fritz is a patient lad. When you finally get the courage to say that you love him six years from now, he will undoubtedly accept.”

  Snow White gaped at Angelique, who pushed off the table with a hop in her step. “Though now that I reflect on the matter longer, I think you’ll muster the starch to tell him much sooner. You have moved rather fast.”

  “Fast?” Snow White asked.

  Angelique paused and tapped her chin, pretending to think. “After all, you fell in love with him in about two weeks! For a shy girl, you do not poke around.”

  Snow White set the basket down and slapped her hands over her cheeks to hide her blush. “I don’t know that I would call my deep admiration love, and at the very least I cannot presume to say that Fritz feels as I do.”

  Angelique scooped up the mushrooms Snow White had dropped—penance for embarrassing her. “It’s odd. Folk stir up such a fuss about falling in love and are always so terrified of what the object of their affection thinks.”

  “It’s scary,” Snow White said, “to know someone has enough power over you to crush your heart or give you boundless joy.”

  Angelique picked up a mushroom and held it over her head, staring at it. “Maybe so, but falling in love is easy. It’s the years that come after love that are the real challenge.”

  “What do you mean?” Snow White asked.

  “Falling in love is frightening because it means your heart is no longer under your control, yes, but when the other person returns your affection—that is not the end of your trial but merely the beginning. It’s the heartache and pain that come with life that test you. It’s the times you feel like you have been beaten to within an inch of your life, like the whole world is against you. It’s the years that pass and gradually change how you look—how you spend your time. That is the real challenge in love, and that is where it most often fails. People fall in love with an ideal—not a person.”

  I’ve seen it with Elle and Severin, my own parents, Stil and Gemma…

  Angelique swiveled on her heels and dropped the mushrooms into Snow White’s basket, then stared into the princess’s bright blue eyes. “You are right about yourself and Fritz. Despite my teasing, I’m not certain you fully love him yet. But you don’t need to fear it. The way you strive to save Faina, the tears you’ve shed and the fears you’ve conquered? That is love. Fritz knows that, and he values it. So, don’t worry yourself over whether he returns your feelings or not.”

  Snow White pressed her hands into the worn counter. “Instead, I should look ahead to the trials I might face and conquer them early.”

  Angelique snorted. “That wasn’t quite what I had in mind, but given your strategic mind, I guess it’s not a surprise that was your conclusion.”

  “If I had thought this way sooner—if I had attacked my shyness with everything I had—this fight we’re in might not be quite so difficult.” Snow White curled her hands into fists. “Maybe we wouldn’t even be in it.”

  Angelique stiffened. “Snow White. You have to stop blaming yourself and agonizing over the past. If you made mistakes—which I’m not even saying you did—they are already done. What is important is your actions now.”

  She sighed, and all the fight in her abruptly sagged out. It’s like I’m talking to a slightly younger version of myself—when I blamed myself for Evariste’s capture. I think a part of me still does.

  She stared up at the ceiling. “Though I must confess, I’m not entirely certain how you are supposed to let go.”

  Snow White fidgeted. “Is there something I can do to help?”

  Once again, she reaches out without hesitation. Snow White is a treasure.

  Angelique sharply shook her head, rattling her regrets loose, then smiled at the princess. “Not at this time. But I’m grateful you asked.” Angelique playfully ruffled Snow White’s black curls and winked.

  Snow White blinked in obvious confusion before her expression shifted to a warm smile, and she shuffled closer to Angelique, shyly patting her on the back. “Thank you—for being here and helping me.”

  “Of course,” Angelique said. “It’s my duty—and my pleasure.”

  The words were out of Angelique’s mouth before she thought them over. She was so used to saying it was her duty as an enchantress-in-training.

  Judging by the way Snow White narrowed her eyes and the wrinkles that spread across her forehead, the princess hadn’t missed the wording.

  She’s going to figure it out soon if I don’t distract her.

  “I’m going to clean the horse paddock next,” Angelique declared. She paused for a moment, then nodded, assured the half-cooked idea was a good one.

  I’ve been missing Pegasus. The warriors’ horses will be a poor substitute, but there’s always been something comforting about horses.

  “What happened to poking around the cottage?” Snow White asked.

  “Abandoned in favor of horses.”

  “I did not know you loved horses so much.”

  “I’m on fine terms with them, but I’m missing my pet,” Angelique said. “You’ll come so I can keep an eye on you?”

  Snow White sighed and gloomily peered at her basket of mushrooms. “I wish it did not soun
d like I am a child who needs minding.”

  Thinking of her conversation with Fritz, Angelique smiled. “It’s not that way at all. You are more like a precious jewel that needs a guard—so Fritz would say.”

  Snow White shook her head at Angelique. “Let me finish with the mushrooms, and I’ll join you.”

  “Lovely! Don’t take too long!” Angel skipped out the door, her oversized tunic flapping like an ill-fitting dress.

  She trundled her way around the side of the cottage to the wooden paddock and the lean-to that were almost on the back end of the building. She swiped up a pitchfork and launched herself over the fence, garnering the attention of the horses as they nibbled on the little patches of grass that were starting to grow as spring rippled through Mullberg.

  Angelique whistled as she got to work, using the pitchfork to toss horse droppings out of the paddock into a pile the warriors would turn into fertilizer for the garden they would plant.

  I’d assumed Fritz was the one with the green thumb among them, but Marzell said it’s actually Wendal who plants much of their garden. Though I guess that isn’t so surprising—he’s probably overly concerned that Lord Aldelbert requires nutritious meals.

  Angelique paused long enough to pat a horse’s neck.

  The warriors are a bit strange, but they’ve got good hearts. They’d be very amusing to be with if the situation wasn’t so dire.

  Something that felt suspiciously like magic tingled at the edge of Angelique’s conscious.

  Frowning, Angelique let her powers unfurl.

  Her core magic twined around her as her magical senses rolled across the cottage and the yard.

  She felt nothing.

  Angelique cocked her head as her magic drifted around, but besides that one tiny moment, there was nothing. Even after she pushed her senses farther and farther, she still felt nothing.

  But I barely felt that second attack of constructs, so that doesn’t mean anything.

  Angelique leaned on her pitchfork and listened. She could faintly hear the warriors talk to one another—their voices distant murmurs—and the cheerful chirps of all the songbirds that had returned to Luster with the exit of winter. But there was nothing else.

  I could have sworn, though, that moment of magic almost felt like Evariste’s…

  She rubbed her forehead as a horse came to investigate her hands for treats. Angelique patted the animal, then climbed the fence, standing on it to give her a better view of the yard—though she couldn’t see the front of the cottage. There was no sparkle of magic, no telltale shine or thrum of power.

  I’m just being delusional because I miss him.

  Shaking her head, Angelique hopped off the fence and got back to work.

  Still feeling jumpy from the sensation, Angelique barely cleared a corner of the paddock before she stopped and peered at the cottage with a frown. “Why hasn’t Snow White come out here yet? Cleaning mushrooms shouldn’t take that long.”

  She climbed over the fence, pausing when she heard murmured voices.

  That’s Snow White. But who is she talking to?

  The exchange was so hushed, Angelique couldn’t make out what was being said, but she thought she heard someone answer Snow White.

  The air smelled…rotten. Not like horse droppings, but like something unpleasant decomposing.

  Angelique looked around but saw nothing that could be responsible for the scent. She rubbed her nose, then jogged around the wall of the cottage.

  Her blood turned to ice when she saw Snow White collapsed on the ground.

  Standing over her was an old croon of a woman with leathery skin, bone-white hair, and a stooped back.

  Chapter 26

  As horror swept through Angelique, the old woman stood up straight, the appearance draining from her like an illusion as she became a tall, stately woman, beautiful, but with a cruel smile.

  Something seemed to hold Angelique in place, but when she saw the woman’s smirk, she threw open the gates of her magic, letting it gush out with a roar.

  “Snow White!” she screamed.

  Whatever held her in place shattered, popping the bubble of magic that had secretly encompassed the cottage, revealing the dark and cold magic that seeped into the very ground.

  Angelique sprinted across the yard, her magic scrabbling for anything sharp she could throw at the woman.

  The woman looked back at Angelique, her lovely face twisted in a snarl. She growled, and a white gate made of magic sliced through the air.

  Evariste’s magic.

  Angelique could feel the familiar thrum of it beneath the raw magic that bubbled around the cottage—it struck her at the heart and almost yanked all the air out of her lungs with a sense of longing.

  No—if she’s using Evariste’s magic, she’s going to escape!

  The gateway glowed a blazing white and spat sparks and hissed in an angry way Angelique had never seen any of Evariste’s gateways previously behave.

  The woman—no, it was Queen Faina (even with the cruel twist to her face, Angelique recognized her from the portraits)—didn’t seem very pleased with the unstable gateway, either. She scowled at it and reluctantly stepped through, disappearing from sight.

  Instead of disassembling like one of Evariste’s usual gateways, this one folded in on itself, shrinking each time it folded.

  Angelique lunged, trying to even graze the magic with her fingertips, but it snuffed out just before she reached it.

  Hissing, Angelique swung around just in time to see Snow White’s blue eyes flutter shut.

  “Snow White!” Angelique crouched at the princess’s side, the knot of fear that churned in her stomach decreasing a tiny bit when she saw the princess’ chest still rose and fell as she breathed.

  Angelique used the white rapids of her freed magic to form a brute-ish healing spell that packed enough power to light the princess up and pushed it into her.

  The spell surged through Snow White, searching for something to fix. It mended a few budding bruises she had from falling to the ground, but apart from that, there was nothing.

  That’s impossible. Why, then, isn’t she awake?

  A spell made of steely gray symbols Angelique didn’t recognize twirled around Snow White’s throat. It was likely a spell cast by the black mage working through Faina. The symbols weren’t anything like the language of magic—they were sharp and foreign. But the spell didn’t seem to be doing anything.

  Behind Angelique, something thrashed in the woods. She tensed—had Queen Faina come back with the black mage responsible for this? But then her magic pinpointed the quiver with the arrows that was drawing closer in tandem with the thrashing.

  Marzell.

  Angelique ignored the incoming warrior and anxiously peered at Snow White, doing her best to find whatever was wrong with the princess.

  She didn’t see any wounds, and her magic couldn’t sense anything—but she hadn’t sensed Queen Faina’s arrival, either, which was terrifying for a number of reasons.

  She tried tugging at the spell, trying to get a better sense for it, but whenever she touched it, the cold, dark powers that had attacked her with the constructs shot through her body.

  Why is nothing working? This has to be dark magic, but what can I do to counter it? Why doesn’t it look like anything I’ve seen before?

  The skid of feet on grass confirmed Marzell had arrived.

  “Snow White!” Angelique slapped the princess’ cheeks, trying to get any reaction out of her.

  Snow White didn’t stir.

  Aldelbert popped out of the trees and sprinted to Angelique, his normally dopey expression tight with alarm and concern. “What happened?”

  “Faina.” Angelique released her magic, feeling lost.

  I don’t know what to do! I can’t find anything wrong with her!

  She shook her head, then made herself glance up at Aldelbert. “I don’t know entirely what happened, but she put some sort of spell on her.”

 
; Wendal popped out of the trees, shoving branches out of his way. “Is she still breathing?”

  “Yes.”

  Marzell—who’d been frozen like a statue—finally lurched into motion when Oswald and Rupert joined the group.

  Gregori emerged from the woods behind them. “You said it was Faina?”

  “She must have approached Snow White disguised as an old woman. I saw her drop her illusion as I came around the cottage.” Angelique impatiently pushed her jagged hair out of her face with a dirty hand.

  “You say she put a spell on her?” Marzell asked.

  Angelique helplessly stared at the deathly-still princess. “I can’t tell what—if we’re lucky, it might be a curse. Those are easier to alter.”

  “But how could the Queen do such a thing?” Rupert crouched on Snow White’s other side and scanned the princess. “She hasn’t any magic.”

  Wendal grimly pinched his daggers between his fingers. “The rogue mage controlling her?”

  Gregori shook his head. “If that were the case, would the mage have not come here on their own rather than risk sending Faina?”

  His words stirred an alarm in Angelique. There was a pearl of truth to them.

  But the mage must have cast the spell through Faina. Snow White didn’t get this spell on her as a souvenir!

  Marzell rubbed his eyes. “There must be a way to save her. There has to be. Was there anything else you noticed?”

  Angelique sat back on her heels and stared at the spell. “Nothing that will help us wake Snow White up,” she said bitterly. “Only further proof that our own inaction with the Chosen may be the end of us yet.”

  Marzell cocked his head. “What?”

  “We should get Snow White inside,” Gregori said.

  Marzell ran his hands through his hair. “Yes. If we can assess the situation, we might be able to figure out whom to send for.”

  “I should be able to pin down what sort of enchantment was placed upon her,” Angelique said.

  I don’t care if saying that is as good as admitting I am more than an herb wizard’s apprentice. Snow White is far more important than any disguise.