by K. M. Shea
It wasn’t until the late-night hours that he finally did, creeping down the stairs as Angelique lay in front of the fire and faked snoring and sleep talking.
Fritz checked his black leather gloves and then flipped up the hood of his coal-gray cloak, properly outfitted for night infiltration work. Elle would have been proud.
Angelique propped herself up on her elbows. “And where do you think you’re going?”
Fritz glanced at her, then flicked his eyes to Snow White—who was laid out in a padded cot. “To find out how the spell was cast, hopefully.”
Angelique boosted herself to her feet. “I am guessing you intend to pounce on Faina in her room and hope to smack the secret out of her? As much as I applaud the show of devotion, I have to say you don’t stand a chance. Faina is using magic—strong magic. Magic you have no way to defend yourself against. Not even I could hold out against it. Going there by yourself is folly.”
Fritz rested his thumbs on his sword belt. “I can’t watch her slip away and do nothing about it.”
Angelique grimaced at the realistic observation. “Lord Trubsinn has sent word to the Veneno Conclave,” Angelique said, trying not to let her aggravation show. “A Council Member will come to help.”
Perhaps in a month.
“Do you really think they’ll arrive in time?” Fritz asked with a bitterness Angelique felt in her own soul.
“I don’t know. But I do know you won’t return if you follow your plan and walk out that door.”
“Then tell me what I can do to fix this!” Fritz’s hand stole to his sword, as if the spell were a foe he could cut down. “I will not stand by and let her slip away from me—from us!”
Angel sighed and crouched down next to Snow White—whose soft inhales and exhales were growing weaker every day. “She’s growing worse. Or rather, she’s slowly fading away.”
Fritz shifted minutely. “Did you hear Faina cast the spell?”
Angelique shook her head. “Whatever spell it was, it was already on Snow White by the time I left the stable. In truth, I came looking for her because she was taking so long, but also because I thought I could detect a faint stench of something rotten.”
“Faina?”
“The feeling left as soon as she magicked herself away.”
I assume the scent had to be involved with whoever was controlling Queen Faina—but why did the black mage send Faina instead of coming themselves? It seems too risky—particularly if the mage’s goal is to get control of Mullberg.
Are we really dealing with a mage? But besides mages, only artifacts have powerful magic like this…
Fritz tugged his hood off. “How could Faina use magic to escape so swiftly? I did not know it was possible.”
Angelique rested her chin on her knees. “It requires powerful and rare magic.” Her pain leaked through her voice.
Fritz wandered over to a cottage window and nudged a shutter open, revealing the dark night sky.
Angelique watched him for a moment before her eyes skated back to Snow White—and the ugly gray spell gathered around her throat. “This spell is cursed simple. However Faina cast it, it was quick to cast on Snow White and quick to settle in. By all rights, that should mean it should be easy to remove.”
Angelique sighed and let her head hang. “I should have listened to my master and learned how to use my core magic instead of running from it all the time. I’ve spent the past few months trying to play catch up for years of inactivity, and I can’t help but think if I’d practiced since he took me in, I could have stopped this.”
I’ve gotten much faster and more competent—even since the beginning of winter. But I lost years. How can I face a black mage who can do something like this when I’ve only recently begun to truly use my war magic?
Fritz didn’t hear or didn’t choose to comment. He stared out the window, breaking his silence abruptly.
“And the apple?”
Angelique rubbed the back of her neck as she peered at him. “Eh?”
“The apple from our food storage?”
What is he talking about?
“What apple?” Angelique asked. She rubbed her forehead, her thoughts sluggish from the late night and the sorrow of the past few days.
Fritz spun around. “Marzell said she had an apple piece in her fingers when he arrived. He assumed she had taken it from our food storage, as you said she had cleaned mushrooms.”
Angelique shook her head, shifting from a crouch to a kneeling position. “There was no apple when I left her inside. It’s possible she grabbed one on her way out, but Snow White isn’t one for snacking. That is something I’m far more likely to do.”
But there was an apple? I didn’t see it. But…could that have been the delivery method for the spell? Angelique glanced speculatively at the spell. The throat is a rather odd place for a sleeping spell to sit. I just assumed it was part of the primitive spellwork.
Fritz stalked across the cottage and knelt next to Snow White’s cot. “Could Faina have given it to her?”
Angelique was still half thinking about what use an apple would be in casting a spell as Fritz gently pulled Snow White’s mouth open.
Fritz peered into Snow White’s mouth, but Angelique could hear the raspy inhale and exhale of the princess’s breath.
It almost sounds as if she had something in her mouth.
“I need light,” Fritz said.
Angelique dove for her satchel and briefly fished around in it before her hand touched the familiar cold, hard crystalline surface of a starfire. She yanked it out, then murmured to it, “Shine,” before scrambling back to Snow White and holding the now-glowing crystal aloft.
If the spell was delivered through food, I might have a better idea of where to snip it—but I don’t want to impulsively cut it, or I could collapse the spell and kill Snow White by accident.
Fritz yanked his gloves off and carefully pulled Snow White into a slumped, upright position. “Support her back.”
Angelique sat directly behind Snow White, supporting the princess and still holding up the starfire. “Do you see something?”
“A half-chewed apple piece,” Fritz said.
Angelique felt afraid to breathe. That’s it. It must be the apple—sticking anything spelled in her mouth would account for the fast delivery and just how well the spell stuck to her!
Fritz shifted slightly. “Could it—”
“Possibly,” Angelique answered—her voice tight—before he could ask his full question.
Fritz gently tugged Snow White so she was slumped forward, her face pointed down at her lap. Then, the forester carefully stuck a finger in her mouth.
Time stretched on uncomfortably, and it seemed like a year passed before Fritz was able to pull out a half-chewed piece of apple.
Angelique stretched, her eyes narrowing in on the apple chunk…and the gray magic that surrounded it.
Before she could whoop with excitement, Fritz lovingly wiped Snow White’s lips off with the inner lining of his cloak. “Should we try to rinse her mouth—”
Snow White coughed—a wet, wheezing sound that rocked her body.
Fritz slid an arm around Snow White’s back, taking her weight.
Freed, Angelique scrambled around to crouch in front of Snow White.
Snow White coughed again, spitting out a little piece of apple.
Angelique grinned widely as not a flicker of magic remained on the princess.
Moments passed, and Snow White didn’t move any more.
But…the spell is gone? Did it just have to touch her and then the effect would be permanent? Does that mean there’s no way to remove the spell?
Chapter 27
Feeling utterly lost, Angelique thumped her forehead on the cot’s wooden frame and tried not to cry.
Why didn’t it work? The spell is gone!
Angelique miserably lifted her head ever so slightly, and Snow White bolted upright.
Surprised, Angelique fell back on he
r rear, gaping at the blue-eyed princess…whose delicate face was twisted in undeniable anger.
“It’s that mirror,” Snow White snarled, her normally pleasant voice shaking with fury. “That cursed mirror! I’m going to shatter it myself when we march on Glitzern.”
Angelique stared up at Snow White, hardly able to believe she was up, alive, and angry?
She mentioned a mirror?
Snow White furrowed her brow and looked around the cottage with tangible confusion. “Did I die?”
Angelique tried to laugh, but it got caught on the emotion welling in her throat. She threw her arms around Snow White and squeezed her in a hug. “You little idiot. Didn’t Faina ever teach you not to take food from strangers?” Angelique was caught half between laughter and crying.
She’s awake! Snow White is awake! She’s going to be okay.
Snow White sheepishly cringed. “The apple was laced with something, wasn’t it?”
Angelique snorted and let her eyes briefly shut as Snow White patted her back.
Fritz saved her. She’s well.
She had to keep repeating it in her head like a mantra because she could barely believe it. After a few moments, Angelique made herself release Snow White. She glanced at Fritz, who was staring at Snow White as if she’d saved his entire world.
As much as I find romance in times like this ridiculous, I really ought to give them a moment.
Angelique winked at him, then scrambled to her feet. “Oi, warriors!” She bellowed as she made her way to the foot of the stairs. “Wake up—Snow White is alive!”
“What?”
“Her Highness?”
Thuds shook the loft. There was a scuffle, and then a roar—someone must have woken Gregori.
Angelique couldn’t stop grinning as she listened to them thrash over her head.
But as the warriors stumbled downstairs, and Fritz and Snow White murmured sweet nothings to one another (at least that’s what Angelique assumed they were doing, based on the sappiness of their embrace), Angelique’s thoughts returned to what Snow White had said when she’d first woken up.
“It’s that mirror…” I assume it must have something to do with Evariste’s mirror. It would seem to confirm that he’s being used to power whatever nefarious plans the Chosen have. But…is it the same mirror the Snow Queen tried to bury in the mountains?
Severin intercepted that old message that confirmed it was sent north to Mullberg… And it is remarkably odd that Faina was sent to deal with Snow White—which was riskier if the Chosen’s end goal is to use her to control Mullberg. That mirror is an artifact; it has a magical nature.
“Snow White!” the other warriors shouted as they piled onto the main floor of the cottage like excited puppies. Marzell, Aldelbert, Rupert, and Gregori—his hair mussed from sleeping—stormed the stairs while Oswald hopped over the loft raining, and Wendal jumped to a crossbeam and lowered himself down into a crouch.
Fritz helped Snow White out of the cot, supporting her as she stood upright.
Aldelbert, shockingly, was the first to approach her, elbowing Marzell so he could clasp Snow White’s hand. He looked so serious and concerned—his normally smiling face was wrinkled, his eyebrows pulled together.
And then he ruined the effect by opening his big mouth. “You still look rather unhealthy, Snow White. Do you want to use some of my face lotions? They’ll make your skin shine with health!”
Marzell squeezed his eyes shut. “Aldelbert!”
“We are glad to see you up and awake, Your Highness.” Wendal bowed slightly and smiled at Snow White.
Rupert nodded his agreement, and Oswald awkwardly scuffed his bare foot on the ground.
Marzell grinned, looking more relaxed in his wrinkled shirt and untidy hair. “How did you break the spell?”
“The apple you mentioned,” Fritz said.
“Yes?”
Snow White tottered a little, until Fritz supported her with a hand on her lower back.
Angelique studied the warring emotions that flickered across Snow White’s face. Her face briefly shown with happiness and a touch of embarrassment when she glanced at Fritz but turned stormy once she scowled at her cot.
“The apple came from Faina, did it not, Snow White?” Angelique asked.
“Faina disguised herself as an old peasant woman,” Snow White said, disgust dripping from her voice. “I thought you all must have known her, for I didn’t think it was possible for anyone to slip past you—obviously it didn’t occur to me she was more than she appeared to be. I refused to buy anything, but she offered me an apple. When she cut it in half and took a bite out of her section, I assumed it was safe. She must have spelled it somehow.”
“You’re safe now.” Fritz gazed at Snow White, looking very much like a heroic forester from a villager’s tale. “That’s all that matters.”
Ew. Yes—this danger certainly pushed them over the edge into true-blue love. Though I suppose I can’t blame them for it, nor would I want to deprive them. Fritz would fight to the death for her.
Marzell sighed and lowered his head. “Though we failed you in our promise to keep you safe.”
Snow White stood straighter and smiled widely—though it was almost a feral expression. “It doesn’t matter—I believe I know how Faina is being controlled!”
“You know what spell the rogue mage is using on her?” Gregori asked.
“No, because there is no rogue mage,” Snow White said triumphantly. “We assumed there was because it was the easiest plan to enact, but obviously we underestimated our enemy.”
Rupert cocked his head. “What else could it be?”
Snow White turned her giddy gaze to Angelique and stretched out her hand to her. “Angel said it previously, when we first discussed Faina’s affliction.”
Angelique thoughtfully studied her. “I’m touched you bothered to remember every squawk that comes out of my mouth, because frankly I do not.”
“She said there are some powerful magic artifacts that could hold people under their sway. They are incredibly rare, though, so we rejected the idea.” Snow White pressed her hands to her eyes. “I should have seen the inconsistency in our rogue mage theory when I first created my timeline, for that is where we can see the proof!”
She thinks it’s an artifact. Not a black mage. What are the chances it’s not merely Evariste’s mirror, but the Snow Queen’s mirror?
“What you’re saying sounds very important, Snow White,” Marzell said. “But could you describe it in greater detail?”
Oswald, displaying his great tact (or rather lack thereof), interpreted. “You’re railing like you’re off your nutter.”
“I apologize. Right.” Snow White rung her hands. It appeared to take all of her control to stand still. “Approximately six years ago, Faina was given a mirror as a birthday gift,” Snow White said.
Angelique scratched the back of her neck. What were the Chosen up to back then? Quite a bit if I think about it.
“Six years…that would have been around the time Queen Ingrid of Arcainia died, Prince Severin of Loire was cursed, and the elves were cursed,” Angelique said.
That was also when Snow White’s father died, and Evariste was taken.
“I am unaware of any of those events. What’s important is that the mirror was a gift. I don’t recall who gave it—I’m not sure if we ever knew. That year was Faina’s first birthday since Father had died, so many nobles and foreign dignitaries sent more gifts than usual. Regardless, it was soon after that Faina’s health started to falter. She didn’t have headaches yet, but she was much more fragile. Everyone assumed it had to do with Father’s death—that her broken heart made her more delicate.” Snow White primly folded her hands together, but Angelique got the feeling it was more to keep herself from clenching them into fists and shaking them. Particularly because of the anger that skewed the grim line she’d set her mouth into.
Given the long-term plans the Chosen have set in motion, it wouldn
’t be at all surprising that they planted an artifact six years ago. But that almost certainly means it’s not Evariste’s mirror, because he was moved recently. However…when Severin sent Odette to tell us about the Snow Queen’s mirror and that it had been shipped north to Mullberg, didn’t she say the entry that recorded its movement was several years old?
“I think the deterioration of her health,” Snow White continued, “which, while slight, was noted by our staff—is an indication that the mirror—an artifact—started to inflict its magic on her.”
Marzell rubbed his chin as he listened to Snow White, then shifted his gaze to Angelique—likely looking for confirmation.
“The timeline works better,” Angelique said. “Six years is an impossible timeline for a rogue mage to hold, but an artifact would keep at it. If it really is an artifact, that also explains the ancient spell placed on Snow White, as all artifacts were forged long ago—most of them well before the time of Verglas’ Snow Queen. Usually an artifact would affect people much faster, but it seems plausible Faina held out longer than most.”
But if that’s so, how does Evariste work into all of this? Obviously he’s being used—there’s no way even an artifact as old as that mirror could create teleportation magic without Evariste, even if it did twist it slightly.
And obviously Evariste was in a different mirror—or he wouldn’t have been moved north recently. So how did the mirror use his magic? Unless…?
When Angelique had used the tracking spell, the magic she’d encountered was so terrible and draining.
Maybe that was the mirror?
Angelique’s joy in Snow White’s revival faltered, and her smile slipped.
Was he transferred to the Snow Queen’s mirror, and that’s what he’s living in now? How is he surviving?
“She did!” Snow White said, interrupting Angelique’s rapidly darkening thoughts.
Angelique guiltily looked from Snow White to the warriors, trying to remember the thread of the conversation.
Thankfully, Snow White explained herself. “After I bit the apple, Faina—or the mirror speaking through Faina—complained about the years she had resisted. I think it meant to ruin us sooner, but Faina fought it off.”