by K. M. Shea
“I think the last of the Chosen mages left last night,” Angelique said to Pegasus. She was still mounted on his back as they stood halfway up a Mullberg foothill—which afforded them an excellent view of the movement in the procession. “But I’d still like to watch from a distance so I can see the entire line.”
In case we get any last-minute runners. It was a grim thought. One Angelique didn’t want to verbalize because that would make the mass betrayal that much more real.
Pegasus snorted, then clambered higher up the foothill so they were positioned at the very top of it.
The procession snaked through a pair of hills that funneled them directly into Verglas. From this position, they could watch everyone as the procession shuffled across the border. Odile and her wyvern flew over the border, landing on the other side in a move that resembled a graceful dance. Sybilla and her mule barreled across the border to go greet her student.
I don’t think there are any Chosen forces among us—they’d be foolish to stick around this long. But after all that has happened, I’d better be on guard in case they decide to attack.
Angelique glanced to the north—at the immense mountain range that made up most of the Verglas-Mullberg border. To the west, Verglas opened up in grassy plains, squares of freshly tilled farmland, and thick patches of forests.
Something glittered on the horizon.
Angelique plucked her spyglass from her satchel secured to her saddle and fitted it to her eye.
Troops, wearing chainmail and dressed in Verglas colors of light blue and white, marched toward the border. They were armed, but given the size of the force—it was barely two squads compared to the army Mullberg had guarding the valley between the two hills—Angelique was pretty certain they were merely meant to be guides and serve as an official welcome.
Pegasus shifted, so Angelique wasn’t too surprised when Evariste’s voice drifted on the wind to her.
“Do you see something?”
“Yes. King Toril and Queen Linnea sent us the welcoming committee they promised.” Angelique collapsed her spyglass and smiled at Evariste as he climbed the hill on foot.
Angelique tucked her spyglass away, then slid off Pegasus’ back so she could stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Evariste.
Evariste joined her in looking at the curling line of the procession. “They seemed quite determined when you spoke to them through your mirror before we left.” His golden hair glinted in the sunlight that peeked through the clouds. He nodded toward her hand. “That was at least a pleasant surprise to return back to.”
“The mirrors?”
“Indeed. It’s brilliant that Prince Severin arranged for all the rulers in the alliance to have a spelled mirror for communication purposes.”
“It was only possible because Arcainia bankrolled the process, and all the best master craftmages were holed up in Chanceux Chateau to cast the spells,” Angelique said.
“Yes, but not even Liliane and her chosen have instant communication. It’s a great advantage—one that we can see play out in this instance.” Evariste gestured to the line of mages slowly crossing into Verglas. “I’m fairly certain it’s why there have been no attacks.”
“The mirrors are wonderful, but I hope we get a chance to visit Chanceux Chateau soon. You’ll enjoy talking to Prince Severin; I imagine he will greatly reassure you,” Angelique said. “He is an excellent strategist. It will be interesting to see what he’ll pull from the information we sent ahead to him.”
“Yes. I imagine between him and Princess Snow White, they’ll come up with our best course of action,” Evariste said. “Snow White was right to send us all to Verglas—the uncertainty of allegiances was creating strain and tension.”
“And now we know beyond doubt.”
“Yes.” Evariste offered her a glimmer of a smile. “As soon as things are settled, you’ll ride off to speak to Severin?”
“I imagine he’ll have something for me to do, and I can be of more help to the continent if I’m actively fighting now—since the Conclave will be safe in Verglas.” Angelique glanced at Pegasus. “That is…if Pegasus finds it permissible?”
Pegasus pressed his muzzle to the side of Angelique’s head in what would have been a sweet and gentle gesture—if he hadn’t immediately clamped his teeth around a lock of her hair and pulled.
“Ow, ow—I said if you wanted to, not that you had to!” Angelique complained. “I was offering you a choice!” She rescued her hair from the constellation’s mouth and glared at him.
Pegasus sneezed in her face, flicking her cheeks with horse snot and spitting an ember out on her hair that died before it burned anything.
“I believe he’s saying the offer was unnecessary,” Evariste “helpfully” said.
“Yes. Thanks.” Angelique wiped her face off on her sleeve and scowled at Pegasus.
He turned his massive hindquarters at her and drifted off, acting innocent.
“I’m not giving you any treats later today, you pumpkin-hating brat,” Angelique called after him.
Pegasus ignored her and pretended to graze—“pretended” because he didn’t actually eat the grass he sniffed; he just blackened it with his breath.
Evariste laughed. “I’m not sure what I should be more frightened of.”
“Frightened?” Angelique squinted up at the lord enchanter. “What is there to be frightened of?”
“You—for daring to call a constellation a brat,” Evariste said, “or him, for letting you!”
“Oh, Pegasus is a big sweetie. He’s showy and pretends he’s as hard as stone, and yeah he’s got a sour temperament that’s about as bad as a dragon with indigestion, and sometimes he’s petty—and he can be downright mean when he’s feeling it. But…” Angelique blinked in confusion. “What was my point again?”
“That Pegasus is a ‘sweetie’?”
“Yes, exactly! I think. Probably. Sometimes. Maybe. We can hope.” Angelique gave Evariste her most winning smile.
Evariste did not disappoint. He laughed so hard, he staggered a step, jostling into Angelique.
I am so glad. Angelique was unable to keep warm affection from her eyes as she watched Evariste laugh. We parted on such poor terms, I thought eventually things would be awkward. But we’ve settled into our usual banter—he hasn’t even blinked at my scathing words. It’s like…
It was that thing Angelique was still struggling to pinpoint—the one change in their relationship. What is it?
“If you don’t mind,” Evariste said when he finished laughing, “I’d like to come with you to Chanceux Chateau.”
“Of course,” Angelique said. “I was planning on it.”
He shook his head. “There is no ‘of course,’ Angel. As I lack magic, I’m practically a liability.”
“Never,” Angelique said. “You are still brilliant. And, I am a little paranoid that if I can’t see you, something may happen to you.” She shivered at the thought.
Evariste rested a hand on her shoulder and met her gaze—the expression in his eyes not quite readable. “I understand perfectly.” He waited until she nodded, then returned to watching the procession. “When shall we leave?”
“Probably in a day or two—I’d like to know where Verglas plans to house the Conclave and if plans will be made for a new fortress…”
Angelique trailed off as the difference in their relationship—not unpleasant, just not what it once was—finally clicked into place, like a key in a lock.
He’s not treating me like a student but as a fellow enchanter. He’s following my lead and letting me make the decisions, and instead of quivering in fright like I used to, I set the plan.
Angelique stared at Evariste, wondering what that meant for the long-term. I would have assumed once I was no longer his student, we wouldn’t be as close. But if he hadn’t offered to come with me to Chanceux, I was going to plead my case—because I wasn’t going to leave without him. But…what does that mean?
Evariste was seemingly oblivious to Ang
elique’s epiphany. He peered out at the procession, his shoulder casually brushing hers. “I know this isn’t the greatest time to bring it up,” Evariste said, “given that we have far greater concerns, but you ought to take the test to be made an enchantress.”
Angelique sucked in a breath of air. “You’re right,” she said. “Hopefully, in flushing out the Chosen, we’ve finally bought ourselves some time. After we talk with Severin, if we have time, I’ll start the process.”
“I suggest it only because it should be easy. I highly doubt the Council—whenever we get a new one put in place—will make you sit for the written exam. Really, you’ll probably just have to take the test out in the Aurum Desert.”
Angelique grimaced at the memory of the place. “Won’t that be fun.”
“Angel, Lord Enchanter Evariste!” Snow White (riding a gray gelding with Fritz, Oswald, and Rupert dawdling some paces behind her) made her way up the hill, waving to them when they turned to look at her.
Once she reached the crest of the hill, Snow White dismounted and patted her horse on the neck. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything, but I wanted to say my farewells. I imagine once you cross over into Verglas, you’ll be quite busy.”
“You aren’t entering Verglas?” Angelique asked.
Snow White shook her head. “I was formally invited, but I’d like to get back to the soldiers packing up all magic items at the fortress and establish contact with Prince Severin. I intend to head out tonight. My troops and I can cover some distance for a few hours more once we know the mages are secure in Verglas.”
“Please let me offer you our thanks on behalf of all mages,” Evariste said.
“Yes, I can’t thank you enough, Snow White.” Angelique flung her arms around Snow White’s shoulders and reeled her in for a hug.
Snow White patted Angelique on the back. “I’ve told you already, but it was my honor to help. Besides, all of this at least gave me one bit of hope.”
Angelique pulled back from the embrace so she could blink down at Snow White in confusion. “Hope? Out of the revelation that the Chosen made up a third of Conclave mages and were our top lawmakers? How?”
Snow White smiled archly. “I have hope because the Chosen themselves proved things are not as terrible as they seem.”
“In what way?” Evariste asked.
Snow White’s smile turned sharp. “Because they left. They didn’t even try to fight; they fled in total fear. Obviously, they knew they couldn’t stand against you.” She reached out and took Angelique’s hand. “We’ll defeat them, Angel. The whole continent will stand together and see it through.”
“I hope so,” Angelique said. “Because that’s the only way we’re going to win.”
Evariste stood with Pegasus and watched Angelique ramrod a group of Luxi-Domus instructors who were objecting to Clovicus’ temporary suspension of all classes.
Clovicus had made the announcement after the successful migration over the Verglas border and after the soldiers sent by King Toril and Queen Linnea of Verglas escorted them to their temporary lodgings for the evening.
The instructors had squawked like dying birds at the announcement, which had drawn Angelique’s initial attention—and now, her ire.
“Classes need to continue as they were,” one of the instructors declared as she gestured to her tent—the temporary housing for the evening as tomorrow they would march farther north. “Our students must keep to a schedule—for the good of their minds.”
“Naturally. It’d be good for my mind if you stopped caterwauling,” Angelique dryly said. “The students can begin classes again when we’re not in the middle of the greatest trial the Conclave has seen since the Snow Queen first beat the Chosen.”
Another teacher puffed his chest up. “We cannot stop centuries of tradition for common worries!”
“Common? Worries?” Angelique hooted in laughter. “I’m delighted to be the one to inform you that you are rather behind the times. The Chosen are not common, nor are they mere worries. Or did you think the Luxi-Domus headmaster was gone on a holiday instead of running off since he was actually a black mage?”
The instructors exchanged guilty looks.
One of them opened their mouth to argue.
“Be forewarned: I’m very short on patience. If you are about to say something stupid, I can’t promise my irritation won’t trigger my magic to summon all the squirrels from the nearby forest to attack you.” Angelique said.
Evariste smirked at the unusual but highly effective threat, which suitably cowed the complainers. “She’s come into her power,” Evariste observed to his companion.
Pegasus tossed his head, making his bridle jangle. Most likely it was a gesture of agreement.
Evariste glanced at him. Together, they stood on the edge of the camp where only the faintest orange light of the crackling campfires reached. “I’ve been meaning to ask: is there a particularly reason why you aren’t speaking your mind?”
Pegasus’ ears twitched.
“You’ve never been reluctant to voice your opinions before,” Evariste reminded him.
Pegasus turned away from Evariste, gracing him with a view of the constellation’s rear end.
It was on the tip of Evariste’s tongue to ask Pegasus if he feared what Angelique’s reaction would be once she found out just how powerful the constellation really was. But there was no benefit in making Pegasus mad.
It’s not like my situation is so different from his. He fears she’ll pull back once she learns the truth. I fear she’ll reject me when she learns how I feel.
“Evariste?”
Sybilla and Finnr skirted round the edge of the camp, joining Evariste where it was calmer and, more importantly, quieter.
“Sybilla, Finnr. Good evening.” Evariste smiled warmly at the pair.
“Oh, none of that polite civility, child.” Sybilla marched straight up to him and wrapped her plump arms around him in a hug. The embrace was warm, and her clothes faintly smelled of soap as they always had, but there was an unyielding strength beneath the affection.
The gesture brought back a flood of memories of similar hugs he’d received from the Fairy Godmother when he was a boy.
“Are we ignoring our rules, now?” Evariste teasingly asked as he hugged Sybilla back.
“Pish posh. Our rules aren’t necessary,” Sybilla barked. “Not in times like these!”
“Sybilla and I decided it was still best to keep our distance until we reached Verglas, so if any Chosen spies remained, they wouldn’t see.” Finnr’s voice was low and rumbled like ice falling from a glacier. “But as we have passed into the Snow Queen’s land, it is no longer necessary.”
Sybilla squeezed Evariste tight for one moment more, then stepped back. “We should have tossed our rules aside years ago.”
Finnr slipped past Sybilla and approached Evariste for a slightly awkward but no less love-filled back pat. “There are many things we should have done—we would have done—if we’d known the truth about the Conclave.”
Sybilla sharply elbowed Finnr. “Oh, like treat dear Angelique better?”
Finnr bowed his head.
“Treat Angelique better…what do you mean?” Evariste flicked his gaze from Sybilla to Finnr and frowned.
Sybilla waved her hand. “Merely that Finnr was his usual, unpleasant self to her—which is to say he made her life more difficult than necessary.”
Evariste shifted, his posture going from relaxed to tense. “Finnr…”
“Sybilla is right,” Finnr flatly said. “I…mis-stepped. But I will have to confess my sins at a later time. Now, I’m more worried about you.”
Evariste shook his head. “No, we can’t just smooth over this—”
“We’re not.” Sybilla patted his arm. “Truth be told, I could have tried to help Angelique more, but I was too concerned with my own tasks to realize just how large of a burden she was carrying. It’s something we’ll have to discuss—we need to discuss—but, Evar
iste, please. Tell us how you really are.”
The worry shining in Sybilla’s eyes was the only thing that moved Evariste to let the topic change. That, and he figured if Finnr had been unspeakably horrible to Angelique, she’d have said something by now.
Though, she hadn’t told me that she was still considered an apprentice after all these years until the Council said something…
Evariste glanced at Pegasus, but as the constellation didn’t seem any grouchier than usual, he figured Angelique must have just bucked heads with Finnr—hardly a surprise given the Grandmaster mage’s stone-like temperament.
I’ll get her side of the story first.
Evariste scanned the camp, his eyes lingering on a campfire of pink flames where Clovicus was lecturing several Luxi-Domus students who gazed at him with rapt attention. “I still love every noise, touch, and sensation I encounter, but it can be…overwhelming,” Evariste admitted.
“I’m sorry,” Sybilla wiped at her eyes. “So sorry, Evariste.”
“My capture was not your fault,” Evariste said.
“No, but we failed to find you,” Sybilla said.
“Or failed to believe you were still alive.” Finnr briefly shut his eyes. “I’m sorry, Evariste.”
Evariste shrugged. “Given what we’ve learned about the Conclave, it’s not surprising no one was able to locate me. I imagine Angelique found me only because she ignored them all.”
“True, but to think we allowed ourselves to be so manipulated…” Finnr trailed off and shook his head.
“I was the same,” Sybilla added with a sigh. “I tried to track you down by finding and capturing black mages, but in hindsight, I can see I focused on targets that were too small and insignificant to know about you.”
“I’m free, now. That’s all that matters,” Evariste said.
His eyes strayed to Angelique—as they always seemed to since he’d gotten out. It was only Finnr’s and Sybilla’s presence that kept him from skulking over to her. She was still snarling at the instructors (who at least now had the decency to appear sheepish).
As long as I can see her, it’s enough.
“Say, Sybilla, Angelique mentioned she grew closer to you during my…absence,” Evariste said. “What do you think of her?”