Trial of Magic

by K. M. Shea

  “Ah,” Evariste said. “And that is why I must apologize.”

  Angelique peered up at him despite her good sense. “I beg your pardon?”

  “I was pushy and clumsy in the way I handled your difficulties with your magic. I never stopped to think that handling your magic would be so different from mine.” The slant of his smile was tinted with sadness. “There is no danger in my core magic. If it grows out of control, the portal will collapse in on itself. The greatest danger is that I act foolishly and impertinently fling myself into an unknown realm without taking precautions, but that’s a personal decision. As your master, I didn’t even attempt to research war magic and discover how it would be an entirely different experience for you. In some ways, I was perhaps too young to be a good teacher when I took you on as my apprentice—though I would never regret it. I’m merely afraid you suffered in a few ways as a result.”

  “No—never,” Angelique violently shook her head and grew more upset as Evariste’s gaze slid away from her. “The Council would have sealed me. You gave me the opportunity to use magic, something I assumed I’d have to give up forever.”

  Evariste still wasn’t looking at her. Impulsively, she grabbed a fistful of his cloak on his chest and felt when the warmth of the heat spell bloomed. “You offered me friendship when no one else would. It took losing you to make me aware of all you did. I need to be thanking you, Evariste. For reaching out—for caring. I didn’t recognize it before, but I promise you I know it now.”

  Evariste slid his hands off her shoulders. One rested on her hip, and the other skated down her arm, stopping to cover her hand folded in his cloak.

  She gulped as she stared into his almost magnetic eyes—unable to look away even though the only thing that filled her mind was panicked internal screaming.

  What is he doing?

  “Angel…” Evariste said.

  Angelique hunched her shoulders a little as her mouth mysteriously went dry. “Um…”

  Chapter 31

  A percussive clang pierced the air, followed by the rhythmic chiming of bells and beats on a drum that followed a musical pattern.

  Angelique leaped backwards, almost dropping the heat charm in the process, then clumsily spun around to face the courtyard—the source of the noise.

  Aldelbert and Oswald stood in the courtyard with a horse whose mane and tail were elaborately braided.

  Oswald tied ribbons into the horse’s mane.

  Aldelbert appeared to be playing an instrument of sorts: a thick staff that was nearly as tall as he was that was topped with a miniature cymbal and little bells. Two strings ran from the top to the bottom of the instrument, where there was what appeared to be a tambourine of some sort.

  Aldelbert switched from beating on the tambourine portion of the instrument to jostling the stick to make the bells and miniature cymbal clang, creating a very loud and invasive beat.

  Oswald and the horse didn’t seem to mind the bedlam. Oswald yawned—used to his friend’s eccentricities. The horse swished its tail as a few soldiers in uniform hustled around it, loading barrels (which Angelique assumed to be filled with alcohol based on the care with which they handled them) into a small cart that was attached to the horse.

  Only a minute passed before Rupert stalked out of the palace. He marched up to Aldelbert, ripped the instrument out of his hands, whipped it over his head, and then slammed it down on the courtyard cobblestone.

  The instrument gave one last resounding clang as it snapped in half—the tambourine flopping off and hitting the ground with a clatter.

  “My Teufelsgeige!” Aldelbert placed a hand on his heart. “I was going to play that at tonight’s banquet to properly bolster everyone’s warrior spirit. Rupert! How could you?”

  “You were assaulting the ears of everyone in the palace and insulting all musicians in the world!” Rupert said.

  Oswald finished tying off another ribbon on the horse. “Why don’t you go roll in some hay and make yourself sneeze!”

  “You obviously are unaware Wendal was practicing a horn accompaniment piece inside. He has remarkedly less musical sense than Aldelbert.”

  “It’s one of his great flaws,” Aldelbert solemnly said.

  Angelique had been leaning so far over the side of the balcony that the stonework poked her in the stomach. When she straightened up, she snuck a glance at Evariste. The lines around his mouth were relaxed in what was nearly a smile as he also watched the action play out in the courtyard.

  His almost-smile wasn’t tinted with sadness; rather it was almost wistful as he watched the trio argue.

  There are so many things that need to be done: I need to get word to Clovicus and Severin about what has happened. The alliance must be notified about the mirror, and I should especially tell Emerys that Evariste has been freed. Moreover, the mage the Veneno Conclave sent to investigate will eventually arrive, and I’d like to be gone before then. However…

  The wind ruffled Evariste’s blonde hair, and despite the cold, he turned slightly so he was faced into it, his shoulders heaving as he inhaled.

  He’s been through so much. I can give him a day or two. Once we leave…the dire circumstances mean we’ll never stop traveling. He needs this—and I want it.

  Proving that he was exactly what he’d instilled into Angelique, Evariste sighed. “I imagine we need to begin sending messages. I didn’t learn much about the Chosen’s plans, but I learned a lot about their hierarchy and leaders.”

  “It can wait.” Angelique held her wild hair flat against her head with her free hand while the wind attempted to swat it in her face.

  “I don’t know that it can.” Evariste swiveled so he faced the mountains. “Their leader, Liliane, is Conclave trained.”

  “What?”

  “She apparently studied at Luxi-Domus well after she’d joined the Chosen. I have no idea how she wasn’t found out, but obviously there is a hole somewhere in the Conclave.”

  Angelique tried to massage the wrinkles of worry from her forehead. “I guess it’s not too shocking. Lady Enchantress Lovelana believes there is at least one Chosen mole in our ranks—perhaps more.”

  Evariste sighed. “You’ll have to send the message to Clovicus—since I, obviously, cannot.”

  Angelique shook her head. “I have a magic mirror that lets me contact him instantly. We can tell him, but I refuse to contact anyone until tomorrow at the earliest.”

  “You have a magic mirror?” Evariste whistled. “Those are expensive.”

  “Arcainia gave the funds to the alliance to purchase the mirrors, and they were rather less expensive than they would have been given that a veritable army of craftmages are living at Prince Severin of Loire’s chateau. It was an easy thing for them to work together to enchant the mirrors.”

  “There’s an alliance?” Evariste asked.

  “Yes.” Angelique mashed her lips together as she debated if she should dump six years’ worth of history on him or wait.

  Wait, I think. She glanced down in the courtyard where Oswald was rearranging the barrels of alcohol in the cart, loudly complaining whenever Rupert pointed to a dissatisfactory barrel.

  It’s the same as contacting Clovicus. Evariste just got out of captivity after six years of nothingness. It’s better to be slow—particularly since he’s been through so much.

  “I will tell you everything,” Angelique said. “But first, I think we should eat. I don’t imagine you were well fed in the mirror?”

  Evariste shrugged. “I wasn’t fed at all. The magic that held me captive in the mirror also sustained me. Or rather it kept my body in the same condition it had been when I arrived. I didn’t ever hunger.”

  Angelique shuffled her feet. “Earlier, you were talking about the pain that came from the mirror feeding off your magic…how bad was it?”

  Evariste stared at the blue-hued mountains and their snowcapped peaks. “I’ve never experienced something so horrible before. There were many times I thought I’
d die.”

  Angelique reached out, then hesitated, her hand hovering over his arm.

  I don’t know what to say. What can I say in a situation so horrible? Mere words can’t possibly soothe the kind of pain he experienced!

  Slowly—almost scared—Angelique leaned against Evariste’s side. Feeling particularly daring, she slipped her hand in his again. “That sounds horrible.”

  “It was dark,” Evariste amiably admitted. “But I survived—because of you.”

  Angelique blinked. “Me?”

  “Yes. Once your tracking spell found me, a piece of your magic made it through the mirror and stayed with me.”

  …what?

  “I’m not entirely sure how it did it, but it seemed to slice through some of the mirror’s magic that fed on me, which greatly reduced the amount of pain I was in. It’s why I’m as healthy as I am, when previously there were several months, I couldn’t even stand.”

  Angelique stared at the sky for several moments as she tried to grasp just what Evariste was saying.

  The amount of pain he was in must have been excruciating. But…how could my magic help him? And how could it last without a connection to me?

  “You mean to say it is still with you?” she asked.

  “Indeed.” Evariste tapped his chest with his free hand. “I can feel it in the wellspring of my magic—where the spell that blocks my magic stands.”

  Angelique peered at Evariste’s chest and subtly tried to sense her disobedient, wayward magic. “Oh, really?”

  Evariste laughed. “It’s not a naughty child you need to scold, Angel.”

  “Yes, but…that is to say…how is this possible?” she finally asked. “It goes against everything we know about magic.”

  Evariste squeezed her hand. “I suspect it might have something to do with your powers.”

  Angelique shook her head. “I don’t think so. My magic is too…well…pointy. It’s not the assuring type.”

  “I found it assuring.” Evariste stared out at the courtyard. “On numerous occasions.”

  The dreams. He’s referring to the dreams. Now I’ll finally get my answers, and I’ll have a chance to set myself straight.

  “Yes, I’m ashamed to say it took me months to learn the time we connected in my dreams was real. What…” she paused, not knowing how to phrase everything she wanted to say.

  “What was the reason for our connection? I’m not sure,” Evariste said. “It certainly wasn’t my magic. I’d say it perhaps had something to do with my being in a mirror, but I was in two.”

  Angelique pressed her lips together. That felt…evasive.

  “Regardless, I have to apologize. You told me about Acri and Liliane, and until recently, I did nothing with that information.”

  There, that should give him the chance to clear the situation up!

  A muscle twitched in Evariste’s cheek. “There’s absolutely nothing to apologize for, Angel. How would you know it was real? But perhaps we should insult Clovicus about our various connections.”

  Yes, he’s purposely evading the topic. Or was it really nothing after all so his near closeness was just my own awkward interpretation of the situation and he’s avoiding it out of thoughtfulness? But…he drew SO close to me!

  Regardless, Angelique’s will to push the subject faltered in the face of Evariste’s obvious refusal. “Oh?” She weakly asked when she could think of nothing more to say.

  “Whether your lingering magic is something special about your powers or some other reason, it would be useful to know,” Evariste said.

  Angelique nodded, her innards a knot of emotions, and silence fell over the pair.

  They watched as the sky gradually faded to a deep red before it was invaded by the velvety blue of night. By the time Rupert, Aldelbert, Oswald and his cart-pulling mare left the courtyard, Angelique had calmed enough to appreciate the night.

  Even if Evariste wasn’t answering her, she recognized the moment as something quiet and beautiful.

  It was very different from the times she’d sat with Quinn, Elle, Gabrielle, and Puss, gathered around a fireplace or fire of some sort and laughing together. Those had been occasions that warmed Angelique and made her heart feel lighter.

  This time with Evariste was…restful. It was like finally coming home. Even if she’d changed, and his experience in the mirror had changed him, Evariste was still Evariste.

  Eventually we’ll talk about those dreams. I’m just glad to have him back.

  Angelique stifled a yawn and tried to discreetly fidget so she changed positions—her feet were starting to hurt from standing still in her oversized boots for so long, but she didn’t want Evariste thinking they needed to leave.

  Regardless, he must have noticed anyway. Evariste pulled his hand from hers so he could rest his arm on top of her shoulders. “We should go in.”

  “It’s fine,” Angelique said. “I imagine you crave the outdoors.”

  “I crave any different sensation at this point,” Evariste said. “Going indoors won’t be a trial.”

  “I see.” Angelique tried not to eyeball him.

  She hadn’t seen him in so long. She’d thought she hadn’t forgotten him, but there were things about him she hadn’t noticed before—the way he set his jaw, how even if he was standing still, he sometimes moved his fingers.

  There is danger here…

  “Regardless of how the mirror kept you, we should get you some food,” Angelique abruptly decided.

  “I do recall the princess saying there would be a celebration this evening.”

  Angelique squinted suspiciously at him. “Do you really want to go to a noisy celebration already?”

  “If we go, will you still feel the need to carry around a clutch of weapons?” Evariste asked.

  Angelique glanced at her wooden bucket of pointy things. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “You deserve to rest.” He gently brushed his thumb across her cheekbone, his fingers soft and caressing. “I can see how the years have worn on you. If we are surrounded by soldiers and the princess’s guards, will you still feel the need to be so vigilant? Or will you relax?”

  Angelique tipped her head as she thought. I don’t know that I’ll be able to relax again until I know the Chosen are out of Mullberg. But I trust the warriors. If there was a fight, they’d do everything in their power to stop it. She snuck a glance at Evariste and flattened her lips. Still. A moment of partial rest is not worth subjecting him to so many sensations when he just saw his first sunset in years.

  Evariste seemed to be able to sense her refusal. “Am I acting in a way that makes you think I can’t handle it? I haven’t gone running or screaming at the sight of sunlight or the sound of your friends’ music, have I?”

  “No,” Angelique reluctantly said.

  “It will be fine,” Evariste said. “In fact, I look forward to seeing so many people.”

  Angelique wasn’t convinced, but she heard footfalls pick through the shredded sitting room.

  “Angel?” Snow White stuck her head through the ajar doors, a smile blooming on her face when she spotted them. “Here you are!” She stepped outside—leaving her many guards behind in the half-destroyed sitting room.

  Angelique smiled at her friend. “Hello, Snow White. Do you have everything in hand already?”

  “Not even a little.” Snow White sighed. “But Stepmother is safe—which is all I wanted. The celebration is going to begin soon, but I thought first you might wish to…” Snow White squirmed and trailed off as she glanced at Evariste.

  “Yes?” Angelique prodded.

  “That is…w-would you like to clean up?” Snow White asked. “I’ve had some of the servants draw you some hot water in two basins and set out fresh linens.”

  For a moment, Angelique thought longingly of a bath, but no. She wasn’t going to do anything that would take her away from Evariste for more than a couple moments.

  So she smiled, charmed by Snow White’s tho
ughtful gesture. “A quick freshening up sounds lovely. Thank you, Snow White.”

  Snow White’s smile grew stronger. “Of course! If you follow me, I can lead you back to my stepmother’s quarters—where the water is.”

  Angelique followed after Snow White, glancing back to make sure Evariste was coming.

  She was surprised to find he was directly behind her—so close her cloak almost brushed his chest. She offered him a tentative smile—which grew stronger when he returned it.

  We’ll be all right. We’ll figure out what caused my magic to stay with him and break off this spell that is sealing his magic. Then the Chosen had best fear the monster they’ve awoken!

  Evariste smiled over his wine glass—which was filled with water as the thoughtful princess had swiftly noticed he hadn’t touched the original wine that had filled his cup beyond the first sip that made his stomach twist.

  Around him, soldiers toasted one another in a raucous wave of laughter and merriment. The seven men who had aided Snow White in her quest to free her stepmother—Angelique had introduced him to each one of them, but he couldn’t really tell them apart in the overwhelming swirl of new faces that filled the room—laughed, sang, and in a few cases, danced on the tables.

  Evariste wanted to be happy with them. He was happy. But it was deafening compared to the whispering silence of the mirror, and the torches scattered around the room were so bright, the light nearly made his eyes ache.

  He hadn’t done more than pick at the delectable smelling feast as even tasting food had made his stomach cramp from the nearly forgotten sensation.

  As uncomfortable as it was, he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

  I welcome the headaches, the sickness—all of it. It means I’m out and alive. I’m free.

  He briefly closed his eyes, a smile pulling on his lips.

  This isn’t a dream. Angelique yanked me out of the mirror, and it feels like I’ve come back to life. I’m out.