Trial of Magic
Page 55
The faint whisp of magic that accompanied it marked it as magic-made, and Angelique recalled a similar looking messenger butterfly she’d once received that contained a summons to present herself to the Council.
But they haven’t tried to contact me in years—what could they possibly want? Unless Clovicus chose to send a message this way?
Angelique held out her hand, and the purple butterfly landed in her palm. The purple color of its wings intensified to a darker hue as it turned into a papercraft, and then its wings unfolded, turning the butterfly inside out to reveal the thick sheet of paper.
Angelique narrowed her eyes, carefully tracing over the message for any hidden spells, but she sensed nothing.
Evariste circled around Pegasus so he could join her. “A letter?”
“It appears to be so. Can you sense any magic coming off it?”
Evariste shook his head. “You’d better open it.”
Angelique chewed on her cheek as she unfolded the paper, her heart plummeting into her stomach when she read it.
The Council of the Veneno Conclave wishes to express its joy in Lord Enchanter Evariste’s freedom from captivity, and requests that Lord Enchanter Evariste and Angelique present themselves to the Council immediately.
Chapter 33
Several curse words dropped from Angelique’s mouth before she recalled she no longer traveled alone. She smashed the letter to her chest and, horrified, peered at Evariste.
Rather than be scandalized or disappointed, he grinned. “That feels about right,” he said. “I believe we’ve been summoned.”
“Yes, but!” Angelique flapped the letter in the air. “How did they find out? Did Clovicus squeal?”
“Doubtful,” Evariste said. “He takes a certain amount of pride and amusement in denying the Council anything they want. Telling them I’m free would steal a great deal of joy from his life.”
Angelique held the letter above her head and scowled at it as if she could get it to fly off. “I bet it was that assistant of his—Wallace! Clovicus said Wallace used to work for Crest; I bet he talked!”
“That sounds more plausible,” Evariste agreed. “However, I find it unlikely Clovicus left such secret information out for anyone—much less his assistant—to uncover.”
Angelique lowered the letter and slapped it into her side. “But how, then?”
Evariste frowned. “I don’t know. It’s possible someone from Glitzern Palace said something. We didn’t try to keep my identity from anyone, after all.”
“That’s true.” Angelique gnawed on her lip. “That means, then, that they probably don’t know you’ve been sealed. We only told Snow White, Queen Faina, and the Warriors about that.”
“True,” Evariste said. “Won’t that be an upsetting reveal for them? But, in the meantime, it appears we need to change our plans.”
Angelique whipped the paper up for inspection one last time, glaring at it as though she could change its contents. “Do we really have to?”
Evariste laughed. “Yes.”
Angelique groaned.
“Think of it as reordering our priorities,” Evariste suggested. “When we go to the Conclave, we can tell Clovicus about the strange cases of your magic connecting us.”
Slightly placated, Angelique folded the letter up and stuffed it in her satchel on Pegasus’ back. “And we can research the spell that blocks you from your magic.”
“That, too,” Evariste agreed, though his tone said he didn’t think it was a fruitful pursuit. “Besides, we’ve sent Severin a great deal of information already. Delaying our meeting with him by a few days shouldn’t do much to our timeline.”
“You’re right,” Angelique admitted. “Fine. Let’s get this over with. If we leave soon, we should arrive at the Conclave by late afternoon—with Pegasus carrying us, that is.”
Angelique fondly petted the constellation, then dug into the satchel.
Evariste rested his hand on Pegasus’ shoulder. “Besides, there is one major consolation to this change in plans.”
“What’s that?”
“They cannot possibly keep us for more than a day or two because I can’t do anything for them as long as I’m in this state!”
Angelique laughed as she thrust her entire arm into the satchel. “There is that.”
“What are you searching for?”
Angelique grinned. “A wardrobe change. I intend to make Elle proud and use my clothing to make a statement at the Veneno Conclave.”
Late in the afternoon, when the sky was a swirl of colors as day turned to dusk, Angelique and Evariste arrived.
Pegasus carried them past the fortress walls and through the magic city. Although they were given a few curious looks, all the mages that passed them gave them a large berth upon glancing at the flames of Pegasus’ mane and tail.
It was helpful. Evariste had pulled up his hood to shadow and hopefully hide his face, but with Pegasus working as a natural deterrent there was an even smaller chance they’d be stopped.
They clattered up to the stable that was arranged snugly against the main Conclave building and dismounted.
Angelique landed with a satisfied hop, then brushed off her trousers before impulsively hugging Pegasus’ neck. “Thank you for the ride.”
Pegasus ignored the sign of affection and chewed on the hem of the blue, overly large tunic she’d changed back into out of sheer spite. (She wasn’t going to wear the dress Evariste had given her to face the Council—they didn’t deserve it.)
Angelique plucked her tunic free, then removed her satchel from his back. “You may as well head out. I think we’ll be here several days, and I doubt you’d enjoy it here.”
Pegasus tossed his head in agreement. He nudged Angelique’s neck, then trotted back the way they’d come—nearly running over a mage who had to throw himself clear.
Evariste stood with Angelique. “I’d venture to say you’ve nearly started to domesticate him.”
“If you brushed him, you too could have your clothes chewed on.”
Evariste laughed. “I’m not certain I’d survive the brushing experience.”
“Angelique?”
Angelique and Evariste spun around to see Lady Enchantress Lovelana walking with two mages.
It took Angelique a moment to recognize them as Sinèad and Alfonso of the Assignment and Appointments Department. Sinèad was the head of the department, but Alfonso was her second in command, as well as her husband.
“Lady Enchantress Lovelana, hello!” Angelique smiled genuinely at the enchantress. “I have great news to share with you!” She glanced up at Evariste, her smile turning impish. “Lady Enchantress Lovelana will be very excited to see you again.”
Evariste merely raised his eyebrows, but when Lovelana glided closer, he adjusted his hood so it didn’t fall quite so low over his face.
“Angelique, I’m glad you are—” Lovelana froze when her eyes fell on Evariste. “Lord…Lord Enchanter Evariste?”
Evariste smiled, but Angelique outright cackled. “Yes!”
“L-lord Enchanter!” Lovelana repeated. She touched Evariste’s cloak, but her eyes slid sideways to gape at Angelique. “You did it.” She grabbed Angelique’s hands and squeezed. “You found him! You really found him!”
“Yes!” Angelique squeezed the enchantress’s hands in return. “He was here, in Mullberg!”
Lovelana pulled back, one of her hands resting on her throat at the scandal of the thought. “Mullberg?”
“Indeed,” Evariste said. “I was held captive in Mullberg for several months. Angelique freed me days ago.”
“Then please, allow us to welcome you home, Lord Enchanter Evariste!” Sinèad said.
She and Alfonso strolled up behind Lovelana— Sinèad wearing a smile as bright as the sun while Alfonso adjusted his glasses and gave a small smile that was the equivalent of an enormous grin from him.
Hah! The Conclave isn’t his home; Wistful Thicket is.
Evariste gl
anced down at Angelique, and she could see the same thought in his eyes. But he smiled politely. “I am glad to be free again.”
“Where were you being held?” Lovelana wrapped a lock of her hair around her finger and gazed at Evariste with adoration, then (shockingly) turned to Angelique. “How did you free him, Angelique?”
Evariste had always been attractive to female mages—for both his looks and his magical genius.
Despite having forged a tentative relationship with Lovelana, Angelique had assumed Evariste would be the sole receiver of Lovelana’s shining attention now that he had returned.
“Um,” Angelique said, unprepared for this development. “It’s a long story?”
“Angel and I will be staying here at the Conclave for several days,” Evariste said. “So we will be free to tell you every detail. Unfortunately, we were sent for by the Council. We should report in to them.”
Angelique tried to scrutinize him out of the corners of her eyes.
Since she’d pulled him out of the mirror, there had been an aura of exhaustion to him—happiness, too. But he didn’t sleep easily and just seemed so tired. As he smiled at Lovelana, Sinèad, and Alfonso, however, she couldn’t detect any hint of fatigue.
Is he settling back into life outside the mirror? No—no matter how spectacular a person is, they can’t recover from that kind of trauma in mere days. Why, then, is he acting like he’s fine? Does he also trust the Conclave so little?
“Oh, that’s a shame,” Sinèad said. “But understandable. However, we will look forward to hearing your story.” She linked her arm through her husband’s and leaned in. “Won’t we, Alfonso?”
Alfonso blushed at her close contact—though the way he linked his fingers through hers gave him away. “Yes. We look forward to seeing your name again in the Assignment and Appointments Department, Evariste.”
Angelique narrowed her eyes. He cannot be serious. Even if he doesn’t know that Evariste’s magic is sealed, he knows perfectly well that Evariste has been missing for years. He just expects him to jump back to work?
“Lord Enchanter Evariste?”
A mage wearing a purple robe with the seal of the Conclave emblazoned on it approached them, looking back and forth between them.
“It seems you are right: you are needed. We look forward to seeing you soon—Sybilla will be happy to see you, Angelique!” Lovelana grinned at Angelique, then Evariste, and stepped back, leaving Sinèad and Alfonso no choice but to follow her lead.
The mage peered at them for a moment before he slightly bowed to Evariste, then Angelique. “The Council is waiting for you.”
Angelique and Evariste exchanged glances.
“Then lead on, please,” Evariste said.
The mage guided them through the maze of the Conclave, and it took Angelique several minutes before recognizing the route they were on would lead them to Hallowed Hall—the place where the Council meted out judgments and held meetings.
How did they know we were here? I suppose it’s possible those guarding the fortress gates sent word by magical methods, but why would they have started to watch for us? They had no way of knowing we were in Mullberg. It seems especially strange, given that Lovelana—the leader of the committee charged with finding Evariste—had obviously not been informed he’d been found.
There was something about the Council already knowing that Evariste was out that still didn’t sit right, but Angelique didn’t have much time to think about it as the mage delivered them into the large hallway that would take them straight into Hallowed Hall.
The mage then scurried off, disappearing around a bend of an intersecting hallway.
“Why do I feel like I’m about to be in trouble?” Angelique asked.
“Nonsense,” Evariste said. “You freed me. What could they possibly criticize?”
“A lot,” Angelique said. “Particularly because I didn’t tell you every sordid detail about my various…disagreements with the Council when I was trying to catch you up on what’s been happening.”
“Then we’ll call for Clovicus, and he’ll throw every magical law he can after them, and enjoy it,” Evariste simply said.
Angelique grinned, but she relaxed only when their shoulders brushed.
It doesn’t matter what they complain about now. Evariste is free. He’s here with me.
Though it had been days, she half-expected to wake up and find the whole thing had been a bittersweet dream.
Even without his magic, the sheer relief Angelique felt at standing in his presence was simultaneously tempting and soothing.
Evariste smiled when he happened to meet her gaze.
He looked a little better than when Angelique had yanked him out of the mirror—even better than when they’d left Juwel. Some of the color had returned to his face, but now that he wasn’t talking to any other mages, the subtle lines of exhaustion were still there.
I can’t imagine how terrible those years were.
They reached the end of the passageway, coming to a stop at the doors that barred the way to Hallow Hall.
A dozen war mages stood in front of the door in organized ranks.
“Welcome back, Lord Enchanter Evariste,” the closest war mage said. His hair was lined with silver, and his smile was genuine as he looked from Evariste to Angelique. “We knew you’d find him, Lady Enchantress.”
“Thank you,” Evariste said.
The war mage motioned to two of the other mages, who got to work disarming the charms that locked the doors.
The war mages pushed the doors open, which released deep-throated groans.
Evariste smiled in thanks and stepped inside Hallowed Hall.
Angelique was just behind him, but she paused in the doorway and glanced back at the war mages.
Why do they have so many war mages posted here? Usually there aren’t more than two or three.
The war mages smiled eagerly—always happy to see her, their greatest hope for an enchantress with war magic.
Angelique uneasily returned their smiles but trotted after Evariste when she felt him linger farther ahead.
He waited for her, and together they walked shoulder-to-shoulder through the dark room.
As it had been the first time Angelique had set foot in Hallowed Hall years ago when she was a mere student, there were only two sections of the room that were lit: the raised, wooden platform where those meeting with the Council were invited to stand, and the high table where the six Council Members sat, haloed by beams of light.
The air was as chilly as Angelique remembered, and it had the buzzing feeling of repressed magical power.
The Council Members were partially cast in shadow. Their clothes glittered with expensive silks, gold and silvery thread, and even the occasional jewel.
Everything felt exactly as it had when Angelique—a scared student—was presented to the Council by an instructor intent on sealing her magic.
That is, everything was the same…except for Angelique.
She wasn’t the frightened girl the Council had intimidated. Now she no longer cared about them. Her experience in crossing the continent more times than she could remember had taught her that while the Council—and the Veneno Conclave—threatened action, in reality it was too cowardly to do more than try to keep mages in its fortified walls.
They had no power.
If they had, they would have known Evariste was trapped in Mullberg.
And the difference in her didn’t stop there. Now, years wiser, Angelique could recognize the Hall for the truth nailed into its structure—it was designed to intimidate and awe.
Funny. It used to be so frightening. Now, it seems rather unimpressive compared to the palaces I’ve seen and unintimidating after all the monsters I have slain.
She hopped up the stairs behind Evariste, hooked the wooden gate with her foot and casually pulled it shut.
She ambled up to the front of the platform and yawned openly.
“Apprentice Angelique, it has been
too long,” Enchanter Crest greeted her warmly.
“Yes. Thankfully.” Angelique snorted.
“Wait, you’re still an Apprentice?” Evariste hissed.
Angelique waved his disbelief off.
“And Lord Enchanter Evariste, you have returned to the Veneno Conclave,” Enchanter Tristisim said.
“Returned?” Angelique set her hands on the wooden railing so she could lean forward and squint at the Council Member, her irritation riding higher. “You make him sound like he was out on a holiday. He was taken by black mages, and you lot failed to get him back for six years!”
Enchantress Felicienne sniffed down her nose at Angelique in disdain. “It seems these years have eroded at some of your knowledge of prudent conduct, Apprentice.” She pointedly stared at Angelique’s trousers.
Of course, this meant Angelique had no recourse but to scratch them and stand with relaxed posture. “Not at all,” Angelique said. “I merely don’t care what you think of me.”
Enchantress Felicienne blinked rapidly, and the mouse-like Enchantress Galendra gasped, placing a hand over her mouth.
Angelique glanced at Evariste, who was grinning, his humor swirling in his mismatched eyes.
Enchantress Primrose delicately cleared her throat. “Yes. Well. Thank you for answering our summons.”
Angelique furrowed her brow. “I assume the point of the summons is to welcome Lord Enchanter Evariste back.” She barely managed to hold in a snide remark about their ineptitude at searching for him—only because she wanted access to the library and similar resources to research the dodgy spell that blocked Evariste from his magic.
The Council Members exchanged glances—all except Lazare, anyway. He was sleeping, snores leaking from his open mouth.
“Yes…it is certainly a momentous occasion…” Enchanter Crest slowly said.
Enchanter Tristisim set his hands on his desk, his face hardened. “We’ve been given proof that Evariste is consorting with the black mages who’ve been running amok over the continent.”
“What?” Angelique said.
“I know it must be difficult to believe, Apprentice Angelique.” Enchantress Primrose’s lower lip quivered as she shuffled through some papers. “But our people submitted reports that Evariste’s magic was used by various black mages in creating some nefarious curses and spells—like the one that kept the elves confined to Alabaster Forest.”