by K. M. Shea
It was almost as if the Queen’s mind was buried, and the mirror entirely controlled her movements. She brimmed with its warped magic, so that was a possibility, unfortunately.
The spell that held one of the mirror’s two constructs that were (assumedly) attacking Snow White crumbled.
Evariste grinned and ran a hand through his blonde hair as the mirror shook with anger.
“What’s wrong?” Evariste drawled. “Still losing to a princess?”
The mirror ignored him; it seemed focused on the remaining construct.
Evariste walked in a circle, his strides lengthening the longer he moved. Though he was technically walking, he wasn’t actually going anywhere; he remained the same distance from the mirror’s surface as he always did.
Evariste glanced at Queen Faina as he circled past her and slightly shook his head.
Her…state is going to hurt Mullberg. But is there anything I can do?
Hesitantly, he tried to reach for his magic. As expected, he rammed into the wall that separated him from his powers.
Angelique’s magic zinged through him, but even as he tried to pull at it, it slipped through his fingers, seemingly more interested in huddling next to the wall that blocked his own magic.
Could this phenomenon be because of our relationship? It couldn’t be simply because we’re master and student, or something like this would have surely happened generations before. But Angelique certainly doesn’t have feelings for me. She sees me as her mentor—she made it clear that she respects me but doesn’t need or want anything from me.
Evariste rubbed the back of his neck. It is curious, though. It’s always Angelique’s magic reaching out to mine. I wonder why that could be…
The mirror roared as the second construct was destroyed.
Grinning, Evariste plopped back on the ground and prepared for the mirror to try and drag more magic from him—and unknowingly fail because of the remnant of Angelique’s powers. “What was that you said before? You’re all powerful? It certainly doesn’t seem that way.”
“Silence!”
The mirror struck, and Evariste had to hold in a scornful laugh.
It still hurt—it felt like his chest was on fire. But it was a mild discomfort compared to the agony he used to be in.
He gritted his teeth and stared at the motionless Queen Faina.
Whatever the reason for this, I’m grateful. And when this is over, I’ll do everything I can to crush the Chosen.
Chapter 25
Angelique peered out one of the open windows of the cottage. The warriors insisted on leaving the shutters open despite the windy spring air because it still smelled of the garlic Angelique had smeared on them after the battle yesterday evening (for “healing purposes”) and the onions she’d held up to their faces so their tears clogged their eyes while she mended them with real healing spells.
They hadn’t been very grateful for her tender ministrations at the time. Angelique was certain she had no idea why.
Outside, Snow White and the Seven Warriors were busy preparing for Fritz’s journey. The quiet forester had been selected to deliver a letter to the Veneno Conclave.
Despite the Conclave being in the same country, Luster Forest was a fair bit north and east of the magical fortress, so the trip would take several days.
Rupert and Oswald were fussing over Fritz’s mount—who was saddled but not yet bridled—and were double-checking that his saddle bags and tack were secure.
“You must loosen up before embarking on such a long ride, Fritz.” Aldelbert instructed. “Your hips shall certainly be sore, otherwise. Here—follow along in this Glory-Intensifying-Stretch! Place yourself in a position of honorable humility and kneel on one foot and one knee as if bowing to our royal princess, then retain the stillness and balance of a graceful wild cat while pushing your hips forward with the confidence of a warrior!”
Fritz willingly did as Aldelbert demonstrated.
Wendal circled around the forester, studying him keenly. “Push your foot back a little farther to feel the appropriate greatness. Yes, there you have it.”
Beyond Aldelbert and his “stretches,” Snow White, Marzell, and a recently woken Gregori had their heads clustered together as they looked over the letter Marzell had drafted—which held an account of all that had happened to Queen Faina and of the attacks on the cottage.
That was why Angelique was secreted away in the cottage, clutching her magical hand mirror as she waited for the spell to connect with Prince Severin. She hadn’t had a chance to inform the general of all that had happened, and she badly needed his advice.
“Angelique?” Severin’s voice was muffled and confused.
Angelique backed away from the open window and crouched down on the lowest stair of the rickety staircase before she peeled her hand mirror away from her cloak. “Severin, hello,” she whispered.
Deep frown lines wrinkled Severin’s image on her mirror. “Is something wrong? Why are you whispering?”
“I’m afraid my companions could find me in this rather…epiphany-inducing situation, and I don’t want them to find out. But I need to hear your thoughts on some rather important matters, so I knew I had to risk it.” Angelique glanced at the sunshine that drifted in through the windows and sat sideways on the stair so she could press her back into the wall.
“Were you attacked again?”
“Stil got word to you about the first attack?”
“Indeed.”
“Good. Then I won’t waste words—yes, it happened again. But this time I maybe, perhaps had an…er…encounter with the black mage controlling Faina and Evariste.”
Angelique proceeded to tell Severin—in a hissed whisper—all that had happened during the second construct attack, including her mental grapple with the rogue mage.
The Loire prince was silent as he listened to her, though some of the wrinkles on his forehead became more pronounced.
“Did you suffer any injuries?” Severin asked once she finished.
“From the black mage? No. Though one of the constructs walloped me pretty hard.” Angelique sheepishly scratched her side.
“And your morale?”
Angelique cocked her head. “I don’t think I understand what you mean.”
Severin squinted slightly, his expression taking on a somewhat pained look. “That is to say…emotionally, how are you feeling?”
Angelique stared at Severin’s image in surprise.
How am I feeling? He sincerely wants to know?
The prince’s awkward expression was swapped for a more stoic one. “It seems appropriate to ask,” he said when she didn’t say anything. “Such an experience sounds difficult to say the least.”
Angelique cracked a small smile. “It was, but I am delighted you are concerned enough to ask.”
Severin slanted his lips in a scowl. “You’ve been through enough; concern seems a given.”
“But it’s not,” Angelique said happily. “Thank you, Severin.”
While she’d long-respected the strategic-minded prince, they’d bucked heads on more than one occasion when Severin was forever sending her out on missions and errands. He’d mended that behavior, but it was nice to know he saw her as a person—not just as a Lady Enchantress whose magic he could use for his strategic ends.
“Yes, but you have yet to answer my question,” Severin dryly said.
“Ah.” Angelique mashed her lips together and raised her eyes to stare unseeingly at the dried clusters of garlic that hung from a rafter above her head.
Outside, Oswald and Rupert exchanges shouts—they were probably fighting again.
“I’m angry,” she finally said. “I can’t believe I was nearly bested so easily. But I’m also concerned. That black mage…the being I felt was terrifying in so many ways. Their skill—the fathomless stretch of their power—but mostly in the way they were so unfeeling and inhuman. They were far beyond the likes of Carabosso.”
Far beyond the likes of me
. And they have Evariste.
Angelique clutched her hand mirror so hard, some of the silvery swirls etched into the stem bit into her palm.
No. No matter how powerful that being is, I’ll free Evariste. Even if I have to use every bladed weapon in Juwel to do it.
“I see. Well, given you’re whispering, I assume you’d like me to pass on news of this enemy to Stil and Lord Enchanter Clovicus?” Severin asked. “Clovicus recently left the Conclave and is due to arrive in Chanceux shortly to converse with Stil. I can notify the two of them at once.”
“Yes, please.” Angelique dropped her gaze back to Severin’s image. “But that wasn’t why I wanted to speak to you.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. Snow White is sending a message to the Veneno Conclave, telling them all that has happened, and her suspicions that a rogue mage is controlling Faina.” Angelique gnawed on her lip. “I haven’t told Snow White or the Seven Warriors about the spell that warded the constructs against me. Or that the other mage attacked me.”
“Do you not trust them?”
“No, I trust them. Snow White in particular is incredibly intelligent—she’d understand what all of that meant. The problem is that I’m all too aware they have no idea how bad things really are. I’ve tried to explain it, but I don’t think they can comprehend it. Mullberg has been isolated in its problems; Snow White didn’t even find the invitation to the Summit until recently.”
“And in their ignorance, they might make a mistake,” Severin said.
“In their ignorance, they might trust in the Veneno Conclave—who act ineffective at best and unhelpful at worst, given how they lost Carabosso.” Angelique clenched her jaw. She was still angry about that blatant misstep and example of just how ill-prepared the Conclave would be for the magical war that was swiftly bearing down on them.
Severin shifted, slightly changing the view of his hand mirror so Angelique could see stone pillars behind him—for once he wasn’t in a tent. “I wouldn’t say their ignorance is surprising. Although the Veneno Conclave officially states there is no favoritism among countries, it would be impossible for any organization to be entirely neutral when that country’s government provides supplies and grants them land rights. The Conclave’s presence in Mullberg has perks. Many of which I imagine the average Mullberg citizen assumes is the same for all people of the continent.”
“You don’t think it’s wrong to keep it from them?”
Severin rested his chin on his fist. “It’s a tricky position. Strategically I’d say you’re correct, but you seem fond of Princess Snow White. I can’t imagine it delights you to keep such information from her.”
“No.” Angelique sighed. “But in this case, I think I need to remain hidden. There is too much riding on this. Evariste is…” She trailed off…half afraid to voice her hopes.
“If the princess is half as intelligent as she is rumored to be, she will understand and respect your decision,” Severin said.
Angelique grimaced. “Yes, it’s actually her kind disposition—not her intelligence—that makes me feel horrible about it. She’s too dratted sweet, despite her terrible circumstances.”
“How horrible of her.”
“Exactly!”
Severin slightly shook his head. “If it will ease your guilt, I can send an envoy north to make contact with Snow White—to try and explain to her just how dire the situation is.”
Angelique relaxed. “That would help, actually. I think we’re going to march on Juwel in a week or two. Snow White is pretty emphatic that we must move now, or her grandfather will make a move and attack Queen Faina. I doubt your envoy could arrive before then, but I’d appreciate having another source besides me try to explain.”
“It may very well be that after Snow White witnesses the darkness of this black mage herself, she won’t at all question your actions,” Severin pointed out.
Angelique drew her knees closer to her chest. “Probably,” she slowly agreed.
From what I’ve seen of Snow White—her kindness, keen observations, and sharp intelligence, it’s improbable she’d react any other way. But in the past, there have been so many angry with me…
Angelique frowned and sat up straighter. But those were all mages—magic users. Snow White is my friend.
“Regardless, it’d probably be wise to specifically reach out to Snow White. After all of this, I imagine she’ll be very keen to join the alliance,” Angelique said.
“What are you doing, Angel?”
Angelique choked on air when she saw Aldelbert peering through one of the wretchedly open windows (how could the warriors care about the smell of garlic and onions when their loft reeked)?
The blonde-haired lord craned his neck so he could fit more of his skull inside. “Oh—you’re talking to a mirror. I do that, too. It’s another way to practice affirmations of my greatness outside my Glory-Intensifying-Stretches!”
Angelique stared at Aldelbert, speechless at his stupidity.
“As important as mirrors are, I have been sent to summon you. Fritz is about to leave.” Aldelbert yanked his head out of the window. “Oi, Fritz! Are you heading in to say your temporary farewells to Angel?”
Angelique scrambled to her feet. “Thanks for the advice, Severin—and for the envoy. I’ll contact you later.”
“Understood.”
Angelique cut the spell off and shoved the hand mirror in her satchel before Severin’s reflection faded away.
She was halfway to the door when it swung open, and Fritz stepped inside.
“Fritz—Aldelbert just told me you are about to leave. Have you rethought my offer to give you a bulb of garlic to use in case you find yourself in need of healing on your journey?” Angelique winked.
Fritz shut the door behind himself and leaned against it. “Please watch Snow White.”
Angelique paused—a part of her knew his request boded poorly for her disguise, but that quiet Fritz was concerned enough to specifically ask her was worrisome.
“Do you expect there will be an attack while you are gone?” Angelique asked.
Fritz shook his head. “I don’t have any suspicions, just…a feeling.” He rested the back of his head against the door. “Whoever is controlling Queen Faina is after Snow White—whether it’s because they want complete control of Mullberg or for some other reason. They’ve increased the power put into each new attack on her. The next one…may be more than we warriors can handle.”
What he didn’t say was that he thought Angel—the supposed herb wizard’s apprentice—was plenty powerful to help, but the implication was there.
On a less grim occasion, Angelique would have had some witty remark about never hearing Fritz string so many sentences together before to serve as a distraction. But Fritz had stayed silent on whatever he thought about her abilities and hadn’t revealed her to the other warriors.
“I’ll stay with her,” Angelique said. “And when you come back, we’ll go free Queen Faina.”
Fritz bowed his head. “Thank you.” He turned to go.
“Fritz?”
The forester peered back at her, his hand resting on the door.
“The Veneno Conclave…” Angelique hesitated.
How do I warn him without sounding jaded?
She played with her satchel’s shoulder strap. “They’ve been reluctant to involve themselves with any of the countries. It may be that they will be slow to help Mullberg as well.”
“I will return before waiting for an official answer from them,” Fritz said. “It seems it would be better not to count on a swift response.”
“That’d be for the best, yes.” Angelique smiled and tried to wink, but it fell flat.
Fritz nodded, then pulled the door open and ducked outside. Angelique followed after him and nearly ran Snow White down in doing so.
The princess smiled at Angelique. “Did you find a vegetable to eat like you said you were going to? I asked Marzell if I could send Oswald or Rupert to the market
in Hurra to buy more provisions; he said we could tomorrow morning.”
Angelique scratched her head. “It’s not a bad idea…” She hesitated, then glanced at Fritz’s straight back before swinging her gaze back to the princess. “Snow White?”
“Yes?”
“Things may change when I finally find my master.”
Snow White tilted her head. “In what way?”
Angelique shrugged. “I haven’t told you much about him. Or me.”
Snow White set her hand on Angelique’s arm. “Knowing your past isn’t the same as knowing you. You’ve shown who you are again and again in your willingness to help and your sacrifice for others. Words don’t make a person, actions do. And you are a truly beautiful person.”
Angelique puffed her cheeks up and exhaled. “Sometimes I don’t think I deserve to have you as a friend.”
“Nonsense.” Snow White guided her away from the cottage. “But I do appreciate your affection.”
“When we find the mage that did all of this to Queen Faina, I promise I’ll strangle them with poison ivy,” Angelique said.
A shy smile played on Snow White’s lips. “That sounds like a marvelous idea.”
“Snow White—you are just as spirited as I am! I knew it! When are you going to stop smiling shyly at Fritz and actually kiss the man?”
“Angel!”
“You are certain you can manage?” Marzell resembled an anxious nursemaid as he leaned on his longbow and flicked his eyes back and forth between Angelique and Snow White.
Angelique pointed at him with an unknown herb. “Didn’t you say you’ll be within shouting distance? We’ll be fine!”
“One of us could stay behind,” Marzell offered.
Behind him, Oswald and Rupert started a shoving match—Angelique was starting to think their constant arguing was a compulsion at this point—and Gregori yawned widely.
Aldelbert launched himself into the treeline. “Onward! To seek the defenses of our castle!”
“My Lord, you’ve forgotten your spear,” Wendal called as he trotted after him.