by K. M. Shea
She strained her memory trying to remember anything helpful.
He’d said Liliane is the Chosen’s leader, and Acri—her son—was the mage who attacked me in Zancara. He had no idea where they were hidden since he was in a cave system, but he thought it was somewhere cold because he’d only ever seen people dressed in winter clothes. But what else?
The memory of Evariste leaning closer, so close that their lips nearly brushed, filled Angelique’s mind.
Chapter 12
No. She slightly shook her head as she stared at her rapidly cooling bread and cheese. No, I can’t waste time thinking about that—I talked to Evariste, and I practically ignored everything he said! Focus—what else can I remember?
“You asked Severin to search for a Liliane and an Acri before—did you come across their names somewhere?” Elle asked, interrupting Angelique’s thoughts.
She hesitated for a moment—how could she explain what Evariste had told her in a dream when even she didn’t understand the mechanics?
“I heard those names while running across the continent,” Angelique slowly said. “I think Acri is the name of the Chosen mage who attacked me in Farset and Zancara. But I had no way of knowing if that really was his name—much less if a Liliane even existed among the Chosen—so it was a gamble to use it.”
Gabrielle shrugged. “It worked out in our favor.”
“It did, but that was lucky.” Angelique stared at her bread again. “I didn’t honestly think it would work, but I spoke before I thought.”
“Then we can be extra thankful that it worked.” Quinn finished her piece of bread and licked her fingers. “Especially because he seemed much more impressed with us afterwards.”
“We should use that to our advantage,” Elle said. “But we should take care to mention Acri as little as possible.”
“Why?” Gabrielle asked.
“If he’s really the black mage who attacked Angelique, it means he’s exceedingly powerful—and important, given our reception. We don’t want to accidentally say anything that could blow our cover.” Elle rubbed her hands together. “Which is why I think we should prey upon our target’s paranoia of his merchandise and his newfound respect.”
“How?” Quinn asked.
“Ahaha, that’s the question, isn’t it?”
The realization of the dreams nagged at the back of her mind, but Angelique forced herself to concentrate on the conversation—she was the reason they were infiltrating a Chosen stronghold, after all.
“We could use weapons maybe?” she dully suggested.
Elle peered up at Angelique. “What do you mean?”
“When Evariste took me in as his apprentice, he had me keep up my drills for physical fighting and weapons. He said it was a big advantage against magical opponents because they tend to ignore weapons and swords,” Angelique said.
Elle rubbed her chin. “Hmm. Yes, I imagine they are focused on fighting with magic, not hand-to-hand.”
“We can attest to that already,” Quinn said. “I had enough daggers strapped to me to open up a weapon stall in a city market. Nefari never seemed to notice or ask—unless he knew and he didn’t care?”
“Not likely,” Gabrielle said. “Why would he let customers smuggle weapons in but order the servant girl to instruct you to disarm in the first place?”
“Great, then let’s capitalize on that tidbit,” Elle said.
Puss hopped off Gabrielle’s lap and strolled his way over to Angelique, batting at the tassels on her boots when he reached her.
Angelique peered down at him. “What? Do you want my bread?”
“No!” Puss flicked his tail back and forth in vexation. “I was thinking that—given my vast and superior knowledge—we should take this time to practice your magic. The room Princess Elle got for you and Quinn is also windowless, is it not?”
Angelique shook her head. “It is, but I can’t practice my magic. We’re trying not to let the Chosen know I’m in the area—remember?”
“Obviously!” Puss scoffed. “But you have also clearly forgotten that I am a magic cat, and possess unique skills! It just so happens that I know a spell that can seal a room off, so no one outside it can feel the magic used inside.”
Angelique bit the inside of her cheek. It’s risky—maybe too risky. But if we can find Evariste, it’s going to be a fight to get him back. We’re not just going to waltz up to wherever they’re storing him and whisk him away. Maybe it would be better to practice…
“Are you certain your spell can hold, even against my magic?” Angelique asked.
“Just who do you think I am?” Puss stuck his nose in the air. “Of course I can!”
“While I admire your dedication, we need you here, Master Puss, to maintain the silence spell,” Elle reminded him.
“Actually, his presence isn’t necessary.” Gabrielle leaned back in her chair again, her easy elegance showing in the way she splayed her legs out in front of her and draped her arms on the chair’s armrests. “Puss has been practicing magic like mad ever since the Summit. He can maintain two spells at once, even if he’s not near them.”
“I required no such practice. Just a quick brush-up!” Puss sauntered off to the side door that opened up into the tiny room Quinn and Angelique shared. “Come along, Angelique. I have wisdom to impart. And bring the bread!”
Angelique shuffled after the cat. She watched the way his tail formed the shape of a question mark and tried to focus on him instead of the thoughts that were blurring through her mind. She was starting to get a headache.
Puss hopped up onto her bed—which had only a worn, watery gray blanket on it. Thank goodness for the heat charm Stil had sent with her and Quinn, or she’d freeze in the tiny room. “Close the door,” he ordered.
Angelique nudged the door shut and then set her bread on an end table pulled up to her bed so Puss could eat it (as he very likely wanted to).
Puss narrowed his bronze eyes and unblinkingly stared at her.
“What is it?” Angelique asked after several long moments.
Puss made a noise in the back of his throat. “Nothing, it seems.” He stood up and turned in a circle. “I shall cast the sealing spell—think of what you would like to practice.”
Angelique unbuckled her sword belt and set it off to the side. “Fine. But where did you learn a sealing spell? Those are pretty rare—they’re not even part of a curriculum at Luxi-Domus. I didn’t even know they existed outside of sealing a mage’s powers.”
“I found this one in several particularly old books in Evariste’s study before all of this began.” Puss casually meandered up to the bread and licked his chops.
Angelique gaped at the cat. “You’ve known the spell for that long!”
“Indeed.”
“But that was years ago!”
“I found it six years ago, to be precise,” Puss said. “But I am humble enough to admit that—despite my great abilities—I was only recently able to master this spell.”
“You’ve been trying all those years?” Angelique asked. “Whatever for?”
Puss flicked his tail. “For you, of course!”
“Me?”
“Naturally! Why do you think I was looking for a sealing spell in the first place?” Puss scoffed. “When you and Evariste had that terrible row, I realized it was going to be up to me to get it through your brick-like head that your magic was not dangerously out of your control. Evariste was clearly too emotionally invested.” Puss twitched his whiskers. “I planned to have us hole ourselves up in your bedroom so you could practice unleashing your magic. But despite my best efforts, it became apparent to me that the…ahem…enthusiasm and depth of your magic would mean a particularly perfect and advanced version of the sealing spell would be required. Such a thing is well within my reach, naturally, but it did take some, shall we say, practice for me to get it to the required point.”
Puss nonchalantly chomped on the bread, getting a bit of raspberry jam smeared on his no
se.
Angelique stared at his black ears. I always loved Puss—Roland, that is. But I don’t think I ever appreciated him enough. “Thank you.”
Puss licked his chops clean of warm cheese. “You can show your thanks by practicing your magic.”
Angelique helplessly flung her arms out. “How? Or rather, what do you think I should practice?”
Puss finished another bite of the cheese-jam-and-bread concoction. “Your core magic.”
Angelique took a breath, ready to object, but Puss plunged on, ignoring her attempt at interrupting.
“I know you used it on behalf of the elves—Quinn told Gabrielle and me while Elle was fixing your disguise.” Puss looked up from the bread and met her gaze. “She said King Themerysaldi took you around to destroy the second band of goblins.”
Angelique nodded. “He wanted me to practice activating smaller portions of my core magic so I wouldn’t set off my price.”
“I think we should continue with that, but more along the lines of control,” Puss said.
Angelique mashed her lips together.
“What is it?” Puss asked.
“My control has historically been horrible—even when I was a student in Luxi-Domus.”
“No, your control became shaky after your instructors treated you with suspicion and acted as if you were a budding black mage.” Puss went back to gnawing on the bread. “I am an old companion of yours, Enchantress. You cannot fool me!”
“Fine, my control has been bad for years,” Angelique said.
“Which is precisely why we must address it,” Puss countered. “Your control needs to be smooth and seamless—not brutish and ham-fisted.”
Angelique knew the smart-mouthed cat wasn’t wrong. But she’d avoided her magic for so long, and now more than ever she knew just how deadly it was.
“Evariste is stuck inside a mirror, Angelique,” Puss said. “You’re going to need your powers to free him. The Veneno Conclave certainly isn’t going to get around to it given their recent shows of incompetence.”
Angelique sighed. “You’re right.”
“Of course I’m right.” The black and white cat abandoned the bread and jumped to the ground. He twined around Angelique’s legs, arching his back as he leaned into her. “Besides. Once you get control over your powers, you really will have no reason to fear for others. Though I suspect the Elf King has already done plenty to drive that home.”
“Quinn told you about his suicidal-idiot moments when we were hunting goblins, too, I take it?”
“Yes. Frankly, I was unsurprised. Since joining in Gabrielle’s adventures, I have come to find that most royals are doltish and empty-headed.” Puss rubbed his cheek on Angelique’s boots. “But while his execution should be questioned, he did prove his point. You have great magic, Angelique. But I don’t think you understand just how precise and careful it is—much like yourself.”
Angelique bit the inside of her cheek.
I still don’t like my war magic. But…I believe in Puss’s knowledge, and Emerys’s understanding of magic. And, most of all, I want Evariste back. I’ll sacrifice whatever is necessary to free him. Even if that means mastering my magic.
Angelique crouched down so she could rub Puss under his chin. “Thank you.”
“For?”
“Everything. For being my friend and for thinking of me over all these years.”
Puss purred. “Naturally. I’ll fight with you, Angelique. No matter how far apart we are.” Standing on his back legs, the cat rested his front paws on her bent knee and leaned up, bumping his nose to hers.
Angelique smiled, and for the first time since blurting out the name Acri, she felt peace.
“Now, practice!” Puss ordered, more than a little gleeful. “I have so many drills and exercises I have been stocking up for all these years, and now they shall finally be put to use!” He hopped back up on the bed and circled around so he could resume eating the bread. “Now, let’s begin. Fetch your sword and unsheathe it—we will start with practicing control!”
As Elle had promised, two weeks later they returned to Nefari’s “cottage,” all decked out in their disguises.
Angelique knocked on the door, grimacing at the black magic that brushed at her senses.
Her magic, or maybe her grasp of magic, felt bruised and a little stretched—a byproduct of the very thorough exercises Puss drilled her in every single day during their two-week wait. But on the positive side, she could now create pieces of art with pins. Puss had started her on two hundred sewing needles and then eventually added in pins and broaches—any small and sharp object they could find. Now she could handle nearly six hundred pins and could precisely control them.
The practice had taught her a great deal—that the weight and size of a weapon didn’t tax her magic more or less, but the amount of weapons and the length of time in which she handled them all greatly impacted her mental strain.
I learned that after losing five sewing needles on my third hour of practice and stepping on them before getting sick. I never imagined taking out a goblin army in a few minutes would be easier than rearranging needles for hours on end.
She’d handled a lot of weapons before—the goblins in Alabaster Forest were the most recent and obvious example.
But in having her create images and patterns, plus move the pins/needles/small sharp objects around the room like flying birds, Puss had helped her hone her abilities.
Magic momentarily swirled on the cottage door before it was flung open.
This time it was Nefari who greeted them, not his servant girl.
He was still unsettlingly pleasant and normal looking. Today he wore a hunter-green tunic with another white cloak with gold swirls around the throat latch. His smile was welcoming as he bowed.
“Mademoiselle Mystrim, welcome back.”
Gabrielle scowled and stared at Nefari as the wind howled and flung snow into the air.
“Mademoiselle Mystrim is uncomfortable and wonders when you will invite her inside,” Elle said through chattering teeth—which Angelique suspected was real and not falsified.
Winter had settled into the area with a bitter cold that Angelique felt in her bones—especially without her charmed dress, which contained a heat charm so strong, she’d once been able to ride across the uninhabitable Chronos Mountains with Pegasus.
“Of course.” Nefari flicked his eyes to Quinn and Angelique, but they had already unbuckled their sword belts and together leaned the weapons against the cottage’s outer wall. “Please, come in.” Nefari stepped aside and beckoned them in.
Gabrielle sailed in, flouncing down the hallway with confident steps. Elle scrambled along behind her, and Nefari followed them at a pace that was so quick, it could just barely be described as a walk, leaving Quinn and Angelique to close the door and slowly amble behind.
Elle is absolutely right—he’s set against leaving us with his merchandise. That bodes well for our plan.
“I am pleased to say that I moved mountains for you, Mademoiselle Mystrim, and finished your spelled pendant,” Nefari said.
Gabrielle slowed down once she reached the showcase room. She slowly spun around and delicately removed a fan from the fur-lined depths of her cloak.
“Mademoiselle Mystrim wishes to express her overflowing joy at this news,” Elle chirped.
“Yes. She certainly looks…overflowing.” Nefari wrinkled his forehead as he studied Gabrielle for a moment. “My servant should bring it out in a moment—ahh, here she is.”
The girl, bearing a wooden serving tray that had a small velvet cushion on it, appeared at the room entryway. She waddled up to Gabrielle and held the tray up.
It’s a good thing Quinn can hear her—I certainly can’t. I suspect she’ll be the larger threat to this mission than Nefari.
Nefari gestured to the velvet cushion—which bore a necklace with an obnoxiously large, emerald-colored gem. “Of course, I will need to tune the spells to you for the greatest effect�
��as I mentioned prior.”
Gabrielle boredly opened her fan, then closed it and studied the lacquered sticks that gave the fan its structure.
There’s the cue—that means Puss is in place.
“Naturally,” Elle said, still translating.
Angelique yawned widely, then slumped against the wall. She waited a few moments, then yanked her gloves off her cold, red hands and pulled a dagger from the depths of her shapeless, gray cloak.
She turned the weapon around in her hands a few times, inspecting it with an intensity she didn’t feel.
Despite the cold—even with the fire, the room was quite chilly—she started to sweat.
Stay calm. This is it. If we can pull this off, we might find something about Evariste.
“Would Mademoiselle Mystrim like a first look at the spells before we tune them—so you can ascertain their power and strength?” Nefari asked.
Elle picked up the bespelled necklace with a casualness that made Angelique’s spine shiver. “What do you think, Mademoiselle?” she asked.
Failing in her mission to catch Nefari’s attention, Angelique held the dagger up higher—as though she was scrutinizing a nick in the blade.
It glittered in the dim light, and when Nefari glanced in their direction, he snapped his head back so fast Angelique was surprised she didn’t hear his neck crack.
“I beg your pardon,” he said in a calm voice that belayed the sharp edge to his attention. “But you are required to disarm yourselves before coming inside.”
Angelique slowly blinked, as if she were having a hard time understanding what he meant. “When we came in the first time, your servant girl just looked at our swords.”
“Likely she assumed you didn’t have any other weapons given that most of our clientele are defended through magic,” he said.
Hah—exactly as Evariste told me years ago!
Nefari strode across the room and held out his hand. “But it is not worth fretting over. I will take the dagger.”
“You don’t want our other weapons?” Angelique asked once he got closer.