by K. M. Shea
Angelique tugged her satchel and thrust a hand inside, feeling around until her fingers scraped across a crystal-like surface. She pulled out a starfire crystal and held it above her head. “Shine.”
The crystal shed a steady white light, brightening up the gloom of the forest and illuminating the young lady’s pretty features.
Her thick, black hair was arranged in a beautiful braid, and the cut and design of her dress—a dark blue with fancy embroidery, slightly puffed sleeves at the elbow, and layers of skirts—and her brilliant red cloak marked her out as wealthy, likely a noble.
But it was the lady’s luminous blue eyes that were widened with surprise, her delicate nose, and her creamy white skin that made Angelique stiffen up.
She’d seen this face painted on a portrait in a number of taverns and inns she’d visited since arriving in Mullberg and had heard the country’s citizens drone on about her intelligence and kindness with great pride. There was no mistaking it. This young lady—alone and in the forest—was Princess Snow White of Mullberg.
That’s it. She’s definitely cursed.
Every muscle in Angelique’s body tensed up. “You’re the Mullberg Princess, Snow White.”
Princess Snow White’s eyes widened with shock, and she staggered backwards as if Angelique had pushed her. “No, I’m…” she cringed and looked down at her feet. “Not.”
Angelique squinted at the princess—her joy at running through the forest with Pegasus a distant memory now. “You are Princess Snow White. No sense hiding it. Unless…” Angelique tapped her magic and meticulously studied the princess.
But the heavens—for possibly the first time in her life—smiled down upon Angelique, and there was not a spot of magic to be seen on Snow White.
Still…
“You aren’t cursed, are you?” Angelique suspiciously asked.
The princess blinked her vivid blue eyes. “Cursed?”
Lulled into relaxing by the princess’ obvious confusion, Angelique let her shoulders settle back down so she wasn’t puffed up like a spitting cat. “Do you have to kiss your true love to avoid some sort of dire—and stupid—consequence?”
Snow White shook her head.
Afraid to hope, Angelique leaned back, trying to study the princess from a different angle. “You weren’t cursed by an evil mage, or sorcerer, or witch…were you?”
“No.”
Angelique closed her eyes and slapped her hands together in a makeshift prayer position. “I ought to sing a hymn or something. This is a first for me in a long time. A princess who is not cursed, how wonderful—wait.” Angelique popped her eyes open and brandished the starfire again. “If you’re not cursed, why are you—a princess—running around a forest at night?”
The princess—who was probably quite beautiful when her blue eyes weren’t widened with unease and every one of her gestures spoke of fear—backed up a step. “Who are you?”
Angelique scratched her chin. Ah. That’s right. I don’t look like an enchantress, which means I won’t have people thrusting their problems on me. I should have gone in disguise like this ages ago!
“Fair enough of a question, I guess,” Angelique said. “I’m Angel. I’m an apprentice to an herb wizard. See?” Angelique pointed to the dried herbs on her satchel as proof, then stuck her hand out for the princess to shake.
Princess Snow White proved herself worthy of all the pride her citizens took in her as she cautiously took Angelique’s hand in a soft but warm grasp. “How do you do, Angel?”
“I was doing a lot better before I found you. But now you know I’m a minor magic user, so spill it.” Angelique rested her hands on her hips and hoped the princess’s problems were minor. She had to have problems because princesses did not wander alone in the forest, with the exception of Elle and Gabrielle…and soon Quinn and Odette when they married.
Okay. Maybe princesses do wander alone in forests. But I doubt this one does.
To the princess’s credit, she studied Angelique—not with fear, but with caution as her eyes flicked from Angelique’s face, to her herb-covered satchel, to the starfire she held in her hand.
After a few moments of silence, Snow White nodded. “My stepmother, that is, Queen Faina…” She trailed off, and tears started to fall from her eyes that now shone with misery.
Angelique sighed, and her irritation left her as fast as it had come, replaced with a deep sadness for whatever heartbreak the poor princess had encountered. “What is it?” she asked, finally letting her sympathy get the best of her.
Snow White rubbed her reddening nose, then stared at her hands with a lost expression. “Something is terribly wrong, and I’ve made it even worse.”
Ahh, yes. This sounds like the Chosen have been hard at work.
Angelique braced herself for the worst, then patted Snow White’s back. “What happened?”
“It’s m-my stepmother, Faina. She’s been sick for months—years, even—with terrible headaches. It started slow at the start…just every once in a while. But now it’s rare that she doesn’t have a headache. They’ve made her act different.” The Princess’ tongue occasionally got tied, but her voice was steady.
Angelique tensed again. “In what way?” Her voice was harder than necessary, but Princess Snow White was so consumed with her misery, she didn’t seem to notice.
“S-she tried to hurt me,” Princess Snow White said, a stammer briefly catching her tongue.
“Define hurt.”
“She said she wanted to kill me and eat my heart,” Snow White said.
“She what?”
“It wasn’t her!” Her stammer faded under the onslaught of her passion for her stepmother. “Faina would never hurt me. She seemed like an entirely different person, and she broke whatever it was before she could hurt me! But she said she’s had dark dreams, and she blacks out for hours and doesn’t remember what she’s done during that time.”
“What has been done to help her with these headaches and outbursts?” Angelique asked.
“She’s been prescribed teas and told to rest.” Snow White stared at the starfire crystal, a wrinkle of worry worming its way across her forehead. “She saw many physicians early when the headaches first appeared. But I’ve had a number of mages stop through. None of them could find anything wrong with her.”
That matters little. Who knows what level of mage the Veneno Conclave sent? And this reeks too much of magic to be a purely physical problem. But it doesn’t sound like any kind of curse I’ve heard.
Angelique had come across curses that stole one’s mind—the Arcainian princes and Prince Severin had all been cursed with the mind of beasts during their initial transformations until Angelique altered the curses.
But fits of rage, nightmares, and the inability to remember what one has done? All of that is too subtle and shadowy. Curses work within rules and boundaries. This seems like a slow invasion.
“Faina hadn’t told me just how bad it was getting until today,” Snow White continued. “I knew she was feeling unwell, and her outbursts were so unlike her, but…” She lifted her hand in appeasement, saying sorry to her stepmother who wasn’t there.
“S-she told me I needed to imprison her,” Princess Snow White abruptly continued. “I wouldn’t. So she sent me to Hurra, where soldiers are waiting to escort me to my maternal grandfather’s lands in Trubsinn.”
“And yet we’re standing in Luster Forest.” Angelique thought the comment might get something besides misery out of the dark-haired princess, but instead more tears clogged her eyes.
“I fled. I read a letter Faina meant for me to give to Grandfather, and she asked him to march on Juwel with his soldiers and kill her. Because she’d tried, but whatever has her won’t let her harm or imprison herself.” She was crying again, and Angelique didn’t blame her.
It has to be black magic. But what kind—and how could it possibly reach the Queen of Mullberg in her protected palace? It’s not like the Chosen can freely skulk through
there. The city, perhaps, but the palace? Not likely—unless they are undercover? But in recent years, the Chosen usually use curses and spells to do their dirty work. They don’t seem to send mages in to directly supervise.
But Quinn and I did see the guard rotation heading into the city…
“Have there been any attacks—or break-ins—at the palace?” Angelique asked.
Princess Snow White miserably shook her head. “No.”
“I’m not talking recently—stretching back years ago. Since before Queen Faina started getting these headaches,” Angelique said.
Snow White shook her head. “The only dark spot we’ve had in Glitzern Palace for years was the hunting accident that took my Father’s life six years ago.”
“Ahh, yes.” Angelique bit her cheek as she poked at everything the princess had told her.
Six years ago. That was the same year Queen Ingrid died—which seems suspicious. Did the Chosen eliminate Snow White’s father because they thought they couldn’t manipulate him? If that’s true, why did it take them so long to act on Faina? Though Snow White said the headaches have been going on for years, but the outbursts are quite recent…
“I can’t let Faina be harmed,” Princess Snow White said. Though her eyes were still watery, her expression was unflinching. “I won’t. That’s why I left Hurra—to look for help.”
Snow White stood up straighter and looked around the woods—which had darkened over the course of their conversation as the sun assumedly set, pitching the forest in black. “In a meeting with the royal cabinet, I’d heard the Seven Warriors lived here in Luster Forest. They’re men who have fought to protect Mullberg from monster attacks.” She hesitated, then added. “I apologize. I didn’t need to drop this all on you. It’s my responsibility.”
Angelique met the princess’s eyes. Her gaze was steady, but apologetic. She wasn’t asking for help.
But…I need to give it to her.
Chapter 18
Angelique’s soul howled. She was so close to finding Evariste!
I can’t ignore this, though. If Princess Snow White hadn’t fled Hurra, she could have kicked off a civil war between her grandfather and whatever has Queen Faina. And what are the chances that’s what the Chosen want?
Angelique rubbed her face and groaned.
But, Evariste! I’m so close—why now, of all times?
Angelique wanted to either cry or kick a tree. Both seemed appropriate. She was pausing her plans—again! Her search for Evariste was being pushed back—again! Unless…
Faina and all of the trouble is in Juwel, where Evariste might be. The Chosen are too crafty for that to be a coincidence. If there are black mages in Juwel harming the queen, it’s possible Evariste and his mirror are being kept with them. That means in helping the princess, I may have a better chance at uncovering what the Chosen are doing in Mullberg.
Angelique peered up at the dark canopy of tree branches that stretched high above them.
It was settled. She would help the princess. It wasn’t really giving up on Evariste—it was approaching the battle from a different angle...admittedly an angle that was a little more royal than she’d like, but working with Snow White would mean she’d have a much easier time getting into the palace to investigate.
“The Seven Warriors have been angry with stepmother because they thought we weren’t doing enough to counter the monster attacks,” the Princess continued, the tone of her voice growing tight with nerves. “But if I can convince them that Stepmother is in danger, I think they’ll be more likely to help me since they already believe something is wrong with Mullberg. I came here searching for them…though I haven’t found their home yet.”
They must be the residents of that quaint little cottage Pegasus and I saw earlier.
“Hmm.” Angelique only half listened as she mentally rearranged her plans, making them as strategic as possible.
I’ll need to tell Severin that my plans changed and inform the alliance of the trouble in Mullberg. We thought they were fine because the Veneno Conclave is here, but perhaps that is why the Chosen have taken their time in enacting their plans?
“Of the Seven Warriors, a number of them are nobility, which means they have influence that could be used politically to convince other nobles of Faina’s innocence as well,” Snow White continued.
“Mmhmm.” Angelique rested her hand on her satchel, idly wondering if she should sneak away from Snow White for a moment to inform Severin or wait until after meeting the Seven Warriors. Because she was not telling Snow White her true identity—princess or not.
There’d be no hiding her rank as enchantress once the truth came out, and since the Chosen were skulking around, she didn’t want them preparing for her.
But as Angelique mulled over the matter, she saw the darkness behind Snow White stir.
Her eyes threatened to pop out of her skull as, slowly, the shadows took shape—grew stars, in fact—and Pegasus stepped out of the forest and stood directly behind Snow White.
Angelique’s mouth dropped open.
That cheeky nag! After I just concluded I shouldn’t say who I am, he’s going to blow it for me!
She cranked her neck to the side, indicating the constellation should retreat deeper into the forest—away from Snow White.
Pegasus stared at her with his unfathomable eyes and swished his glowing tail.
Angelique did her best to promise suffering, gnashing of teeth, and a distinct lack of treats and brush sessions through the bulging of her eyes.
Pegasus stretched his neck out, his muzzle inching closer and closer to the oblivious Snow White.
“Those warriors of yours,” Angelique hastily said, trying to keep Snow White’s attention so she didn’t notice the magical being looming behind her. “There’re seven of them, you say?”
Snow White stood a little straighter and raised her chin—even though it trembled ever so slightly. “Yes.”
“All males?”
“To my knowledge, yes.”
Angelique couldn’t help the now deeply-rooted suspicions she’d likely carry for the rest of her life. “They aren’t cursed, are they?”
She flicked her eyes to the space behind the princess, then leaped forward and put her hands on Snow White’s shoulders, pulling the princess a step forward, so closely missing Pegasus’ muzzle that the gelding almost brushed the braid of her hair.
“…No,” Snow White said.
Angelique exhaled in relief. “Good—we avoided that one,” she said meaningfully to Pegasus before she flicked her eyes to Snow White. “Though it does sound like something suspicious is troubling Queen Faina. Not a curse, I don’t think, but something. I don’t know enough about dark magic to make a half-decent guess.”
Angelique tapped her starfire crystal on her chin and nodded distractedly as she mulled the possibility over—until Pegasus stepped closer to Snow White, the flames of his tail flaring brighter than usual.
She tried to make a discreet shooing motion.
Pegasus flared his nostrils.
He peeled his lips back and drifted closer and closer to the preoccupied princess.
“Well then, shall we be off?” Angelique marched into the forest, hoping that if she took the light source with her, Snow White would simply fall in line behind her and never notice their shadow.
As planned, Snow White hurried after Angelique. “Are we going back to Hurra?”
Angelique snorted. “And lose time? No!” Somewhere behind them, she heard Pegasus follow after them, sparks hissing as he moved. Angelique kicked up her pace into something just shy of a sprint to put more distance between them and the constellation. “We’ll find these seven fellows of yours and go from there.”
“We’ll?” Snow White’s voice sounded a little strangled as she scrambled after Angelique.
“Yes, we’ll.” Angelique risked peeking back over her shoulder to see Snow White. Behind Snow White, stars and galaxies bobbed in the darkness.
Pegasus.
Angelique held her starfire crystal higher and hurried on. “My goal is to search Mullberg. Helping you for a bit won’t be too big of a detour. Especially as Queen Faina’s odd behavior might serve as a new lead.”
“What are you searching Mullberg for?” Snow White nearly smacked into Angelique when Angelique turned, angling them back in the direction from which she and Pegasus had originally come. “And why are you in Luster Forest at nighttime?” Snow White asked.
Apparently she’s starting to recognize how dubious I could be.
“I’m on a quest, you could say,” Angelique evasively answered. “I’m searching for my master. He’s been taken by some rogue mages.”
“And you’ve tracked him to Mullberg?”
“Yep. It’s fair embarrassing with the Veneno Conclave being here and all, but it is what it is.” Angelique scowled as Pegasus—silent as the stars—circled around so he walked parallel with Angelique.
When he caught her gaze, he pranced a little, setting a shooting star off across his chest.
Snow White missed the display as she was occupied ducking under a branch. “How long has your master been missing?”
Angelique purposely kicked up some slushy snow, pelting it in Pegasus’ direction, but he dodged it. “A little over six years.”
“Six years?” Snow White paused. “Are you sure he isn’t dead?”
Angelique tensed up. “Yes.”
Snow White hesitated, then trotted to catch up with Angelique. “Although I greatly appreciate your help, are you certain you can help me?”
Angelique peered around and roughly recognized the area. That house is somewhere around here.
Pegasus wandered away—which was too good to be true, so that meant he was heading to the house.
Angelique followed his light—or rather she followed the sensation of moving darkness—and plunged into the underbrush. “You’re questioning my skills when you’re the one without magic wandering around the dark woods?”