by K. M. Shea
Angelique froze. “Orders?”
“Yes. Where would you like us stationed?”
Wouldn’t something like that be up to Felicienne or Tristisim? Angelique glanced at Evariste, hoping for guidance, and was shocked by the upward curl to the corners of his lips.
“Or should we continue to follow you to serve as your personal protection?” the war mage asked.
“Um, no. That won’t be necessary.” Angelique twisted around to look back at the tent. “Stay with Felicienne and Tristisim. I think they’re the most likely targets right now.”
The war mages saluted her. “Yes, Lady Enchantress.”
Angelique waved, but she didn’t quite know if that was the right reaction so she cut it off by scratching her forehead. “Come on, Evariste. I need to get those messages sent as quickly as possible.” She trundled down the street, relaxing when she heard Evariste’s low-pitched chuckle, which almost sounded normal.
He caught up with her quickly. Walking side-by-side with him brought back such a rush of feelings, Angelique couldn’t possibly identify them all—but she knew relief and sheer gratitude led the pack.
“Of course, you must tell Prince Severin and Princess Snow White,” Evariste said. “Snow White deserves to know she may have Chosen mages running around her country, and as you stated, this will greatly affect Prince Severin’s strategy.” He peered up at the sky, which had turned a powder blue as the sun gloriously shone with a joy no one in the Conclave felt. “I look forward to meeting him.”
“He is a very reassuring person to be around,” Angelique said.
“Because he’s so capable?”
“Precisely! He might not know how to modify curses, but he can form a plan for anything and starts working on it immediately.” Angelique nodded her thanks when Evariste opened the door for her.
“I imagine that was quite a relief when the Veneno Conclave was refusing to take action.”
“Very much so. And his wife, Princess Elle, is a great deal of fun.”
“Ahh, yes. She was the one who used to be a Loire Ranger and said you should pose as an herb wizard’s apprentice, yes?”
“That was, perhaps, not her greatest idea considering how I struggled to keep my cover when I spent time with Snow White, but she hadn’t accounted for that when we were planning it,” Angelique said.
“I’m glad for you, Angelique.”
“Why?”
“Because you’ve made friends who understand you and support you.”
Angelique stopped abruptly at the base of a staircase, making Evariste pause on the first step.
“Angel?” he asked.
She turned to face him, then slowly, tentatively, reached out and brushed his hand. When she felt his warm fingers, she relaxed, exhaling deeply.
Evariste studied her, his expression unreadable.
“Sorry.” Angelique cleared her throat and straightened up. “Sometimes I just wonder—or rather, I still have to assure myself that you’re here. I thought I’d be better about it by now, but I’m not.”
Evariste shifted so he faced the top of the staircase. “I see.” He started up the stairs, but when Angelique joined him, he snagged her hand, holding it with a firm sort of gentleness.
He was pacifying her—one could even call it spoiling her. But she didn’t care. The heavens knew how much hadn’t gone her way these last few years. If Evariste was inclined to spoil her, she was going to revel in it.
The tension in her shoulders eased, and Angelique slightly swung their joined hands as they climbed the stairs.
“Where would you like to be when you use your mirror?” Evariste asked.
“I was thinking your office here,” Angelique said.
“Are we going to try and make an escape to the Thicket through the portal in my office?”
“Tempting, but I actually thought that was probably the last place anyone would look for us, and we’ll be left alone for a short while.” Angelique confessed as they left the staircase and marched down a hallway. “And your office should have paper so I can draft my message to Snow White as well.”
“Smart.”
“I have greatly honed my skills at avoiding people who may potentially assign me more work while we were separated.”
“A worthy skill—I approve.”
Angelique laughed, and their conversation continued in a similar vein until they reached Evariste’s study.
Angelique opened the door and paused, shocked by the sight of Evariste’s ruined gateway. It had collapsed in on itself, leaving a pile of rubble that lacked even a spark of magic.
Evariste leaned over her shoulder. “Ahh, I expected that. It’s the limit of my magic.”
She nudged some of the rubble with the toe of her boot. “Your limit is that you can’t raise a gate in the presence of dark magic, isn’t it?”
“Yes. The gate will collapse on itself—as you can see here. The use of black magic last night must have tainted the place enough that it triggered my limit.”
Angelique frowned. “If your magic can’t operate in the presence of black magic, how did the Chosen get those charms that let them make gates and are clearly powered by your magic?”
Evariste’s gaze darkened. “When my magic is harvested from me using dark methods, a black mage can mold it to their wishes. That’s the danger in black magic. It appears to be able to do anything and break the regular rules of magic. In reality, it has a steep price—the humanity of its caster’s soul.”
Angelique stared at the pile of ash and stone. “Yes.”
Evariste squeezed her hand, then gently pulled his fingers from hers. “Your messages?”
“Right. Right! I better write to Snow White and notify Severin before Tristisim gets really snitty and orders someone to stop me.” Angelique veered toward Evariste’s desk, grateful to see the pile of unmarked white paper stacked on a corner of it—an accomplishment considering it was buried under letters, paperwork, and forms that had piled up during Evariste’s absence.
“He won’t do that,” Evariste said. “He’ll bristle and complain, but in his heart, he knows what you’re doing is right.”
“I hope so,” Angelique said grimly. “Or the Chosen will win without lifting a finger.”
With her letter sent—and Severin notified immediately via the magical mirror—Angelique was thrilled when she received a response from Snow White several days later.
The princess promised to come to the Conclave and mentioned she’d be riding with her grandfather’s troops, who needed to return to their southern fortification anyway.
A week after she received the response, Angelique skulked in front of the fortress gates, impatiently waiting for her friend’s arrival.
“You really think she’ll come today, Lady Enchantress?” asked Javed, the silver-haired war mage who had responded when Angelique asked for help while facing down Crest, Primrose, Galendra, and Lazare.
“She said in her letter that she’d arrive today,” Angelique said. “And if Snow White says something, she’ll make it happen.”
Satisfied, Javed nodded. He turned around and checked on his underlings—who stood against the fortress wall. Previously, the walls were beautiful and rustic, fashioned from timbers and dotted with the occasional spot of moss.
Already, the holes the Chosen had blasted into the walls in their escape had been patched, but the Conclave hadn’t been satisfied with that action alone, and now the walls glowed with the strongest protective charms Clovicus, Felicienne, and the few craft mages that were present could make.
(Tristisim, Clovicus had told her, was not pleased when he figured out that Chanceux Chateau had become a mecca of sort for craft mages, and that the most skilled of their kind stayed there with Stil, Gemma, Severin, and Elle.)
Angelique admired the walls for a moment, then turned to peer out into the green hills surrounding the Veneno Conclave fortress.
A wind swept down from the mountains to the west. The range was cloaked in mi
st, and the wind they spat out into the hilly area was both damp and chilly. Angelique shivered as it blew through her clothes, blasting her with cold.
I’ve forgotten how rough the weather can be when I’m not wearing my charmed dress.
Even though her oversized tunic was no longer needed to blast the Council and show how little she cared—Tristisim knew perfectly well, finally—she still hadn’t changed back. Dimly, she knew the Conclave’s position was so precarious, more roof running might be in her future.
Besides, with Evariste’s continued evasiveness in discussing the dreams, there was something awkward about wearing the gown, even though Evariste had already seen her wear it once.
Nothing says “I rummaged around your room” quite like wearing a gift a person hadn’t yet given you.
Angelique walked back and forth across the road—which was inlaid with stone. She glanced at the fortress walls, idly wondering where Evariste was.
He hasn’t acted like it bothered him—the dress or the dreams. I must be overthinking the situation. Yes, it’s silly to be fretting over it given what the Conclave is experiencing at the moment. I should be dwelling on things that are actually constructive.
Forcing herself to change her thoughts, Angelique offered a quick grin to Javed and his forces. She stopped pacing long enough to stand by the lead war mage and study him for several long moments.
He reminded her a little of her father: kind, honorable, and valiant. She had seen him around the fortress numerous times and had learned he was one of the top war mages in the Conclave.
Angelique pressed her lips together. “Why did you believe me when I said Primrose, Crest, and the others were with the Chosen?” She was half afraid, half hopeful of his answer as she fidgeted, scratching her elbow.
Javed tilted his head. “You are referring to the night of the betrayal?”
“Yes.”
Javed smiled, shifting his thick mustache. “That is an easy question to answer. It’s because we war mages have watched you, Lady Enchantress. We have always watched you because of what you mean to us as the first enchantress with war magic as her core. Because of that, we saw everything you have done.”
He gestured to the green hills. “Princess Snow White comes not out of loyalty to the Conclave but because you helped her free Queen Faina. I don’t know that there is a country you haven’t aided directly or indirectly, except for Zancara in its endless isolation. And we’ve seen all of it.”
Angelique went lax in her surprise. She took a step back, then—unable to face the earnestness in Javed’s dark eyes—looked away. “I-I didn’t know anyone was aware of what I did.”
“We knew,” Javed said. “Which is why when you said they were Chosen, we knew you were being truthful. You acted, sacrificed, and served when the Conclave locked itself up and ignored the pending threat. Our magic is made to protect, Lady Enchantress. We are meant to fight and protect others—it is the very core of our magic. And it is all you have done, from the time Lord Enchanter Evariste was taken. We will follow you, whether that means departing from the Veneno Conclave or staying to strengthen it and to rebuild what was lost.”
Angelique suddenly found it hard to swallow as her eyes misted up.
I was so ashamed of my magic; I didn’t even like looking at war mages because they reminded me of what I was. That was a grave disservice to them.
“Thank you. For believing,” Angelique said.
Javed bowed his head. “Thank you—for fighting.”
Angelique waited in silence with the war mages—a silence filled with understanding.
When no more than a handful of minutes later, Angelique heard a horse neigh, she stiffened, then grinned. She cupped her hands to her mouth and shouted, “Snow White!”
Snow White, mounted on a horse—her black hair gleaming in the afternoon light—emerged from the woods at the foot of the hills. She waved, and mounted soldiers dressed in their glittering uniforms joined her.
She turned back to speak to a few familiar figures—the Seven Warriors no doubt.
As they drew closer, Angelique could hear Aldelbert’s distinctive laughter roll up the hill as the warrior (easy to spot with his sunshine-yellow hair) turned his horse in a circle. Wendel strummed a harp on the back of his horse, then bowed over his arm to Snow White before the pair redirected their horses, heading off to one side of the forces Snow White had brought.
More and more soldiers marched out of the woods, and something in Angelique sagged with relief as she realized her wise friend had brought a veritable army with her.
Snow White spoke to Oswald and Rupert next, who rode off to the opposite side of the army—seemingly trying to kick one another from the backs of their horses.
Marzell and Gregory were the last to head out, riding back to talk to the mounted leaders of the army as Snow White and her taciturn Fritz continued to lead at the front.
Once the warriors reached the soldiers, there was some shouting, and the forces came to a halt. Several soldiers planted poles decorated with flags that depicted the Mullberg ram.
Angelique couldn’t tell quite how many soldiers Snow White had brought—some of the forces had stopped in the shadow of the forest. But based on the way her core magic all but purred as it drifted down to the foothills and sauntered into the forest…and kept going…Angelique bet the battalion was immense.
Javed stood at Angelique’s side and thoughtfully watched the entire process. “Are Council Member Tristisim and Council Member Felicienne aware Snow White is bringing an army?”
Angelique grinned unrepentantly. “Nope. Lord Enchanter Clovicus and Evariste know, though.”
Javed made an amused sound in the back of his throat. “I see.”
“Angelique!” Snow White waved from the back of her horse, standing up in her stirrups to make herself taller.
Rather than wait, Angelique ran down the hill. She laughed when Snow White launched herself from her horse and—thick skirt and all—sprinted up the slope to meet her.
Snow White flung herself at Angelique, who hugged the shorter girl.
The thread of tension that had been growing within Angelique snapped as Snow White patted her back.
In my heart of hearts, I was afraid it was going to fall on me to do everything by myself—like I felt before Quinn and Snow White. But I’m not alone. I have friends who will help me.
Angelique squeezed the Mullberg princess perhaps a little too tightly, but Snow White gently patted her back until Angelique released her.
“You have no idea how happy I am to see you,” Angelique said.
Snow White pushed her black curls over her shoulder. “I wish it was for a happier occasion. I had to read your missive three times before I could believe what I was seeing.” She pursed her lips as she studied the Conclave walls like a general sizing up the enemy. “Though I was not as shocked as I would have been before the Conclave proved to be absolutely useless in freeing Faina of that foul mirror’s influence. Clearly, that was done intentionally.”
Angelique grimaced. “Yes, I imagine you are right.” She stood at Snow White’s side and joined her in studying the Conclave walls—although Angelique’s gaze was more baleful. “In fair warning, your arrival is going to bring very…mixed feelings.”
“Oh?”
“The two remaining Council Members are under the impression that this is something we need to solve ourselves—and that we should not allow any country to interfere.”
Snow White scowled. “Because that’s worked so well for the Veneno Conclave recently.”
“Thankfully, their opinions are in the minority.” Angelique slapped her hands on her thighs. “And I don’t really care for their opinion anyway. They worked closely with four Chosen mages for years and were never suspicious?” Angelique shook her head. “We’ll do what needs to be done—whether they agree with it or not.”
“Mullberg will help,” Snow White said. “Because this is bigger than mages.”
“A
greed.” Angelique started back up the hill, trudging toward the Conclave entrance. “It’s about the future of the continent.”
Chapter 38
Angelique led Snow White—and Fritz—to the purple tent that was still being used as a headquarters of sorts. Pieces of the city had been repaired, but fearing traps or listening charms, Clovicus and Sybilla had opted to keep the headquarters mobile and move it around on a daily basis.
As predicted, there was a very polarized response to their introduction—Clovicus and Sybilla were delighted, while Tristisim and Felicienne were almost frosty.
At least all the war mages were welcoming. Angelique nodded to Javed as the war mage saluted and left the tent—joining the others guarding the perimeter. I really should have been prouder to be a war mage, no matter how I felt about my core magic. They’re the most decent group of mages I’ve met.
Once the tent flap drifted shut behind the war mage, a caramel-brown shield flickered into place—the work of one of the war mages standing guard.
Clovicus rapped his knuckles on the arm of his chair as he sagged into his seat, and a second shield shimmered into place. “We’re now protected, and our words are guarded and inaudible to anyone standing outside the tent, Princess. You may speak freely.”
“Thank you, Lord Enchanter.” Snow White sat down on a chair Fritz had maneuvered in front of him, allowing him to guard her back.
I will admit that although I find their case as ridiculous as the other couples I have encountered, their romance has made them into a good team. Angelique pressed her lips together as she lingered in the shadows of the tent.
Tristisim, Sybilla, and Felicienne all sat down in chairs across from Snow White. Tristisim indicated Evariste should sit in the last remaining chair, but he drifted off to stand by Angelique—near enough that she could feel his heat.
Discreetly, Angelique edged close enough to make their elbows brush—still seeking out reassurances that he was with her.
“We must offer our thanks for your swift response to Angelique’s message, Princess Snow White.” Sybilla gave Snow White one of her warm, grandmotherly smiles. “Prince Severin has been kept apprised of the situation, but given that the Veneno Conclave resides on Mullberg land, there was very little he could do to help in such a quick amount of time.”
