“With the right opposing force—like love and sacrifice—curses can be broken,” Angelique dully explained. “It usually takes great force to undo it because they are stronger and deadlier.”
“Isn’t that good news, then?” Wendal asked. He was crouched in front of the fire he’d been tending to, worriedly fidgeting with his daggers. “Doesn’t that imply whatever did this to her is less powerful?”
“If we’re looking at sheer strength, yes,” Angelique said. “The problem is I don’t know how this spell was placed on her. Did Faina throw it on her? Did she do something to Snow White? I can’t tell.”
“What does that matter?” Marzell asked. “Aren’t spells easier to break?”
“They are, except this one is strange.” Angelique scrubbed her face with her hands.
How can I make them understand how impossible this is—there shouldn’t be a mage alive that knows how to use something like this. Not even black magic is cast like this.
“It’s like nothing I’ve seen,” Angelique started. “Not because it’s particularly terrible; it’s just weird. The spell strands aren’t like any kind of casting I’ve ever seen. It seems antiquated and outdated. But that’s where the problem lies—I can’t pick it apart since I don’t understand the casting. If I knew how it started, I would be able to unravel it, but since we don’t even know that, it looks like gibberish.”
“Would a mage be able to work it out?” Wendal asked.
Angelique miserably shook her head—she’d already thought of it.
Lord Enchanter Clovicus might be able to, but based on what Severin said, he’s at Chanceux now, which is farther away than Snow White will survive, I think, even if I contact him with the mirror.
“No. It will take a Lord Enchanter or Lady Enchantress—and they’ll have to be excessively well read or incredibly experienced,” Angelique miserably said. “In fact, only the Enchanters and Enchantresses on the Council might be able to do something about it.”
Why, oh, why is it that when the life of my friend is on the line, it’s only the hateful Council that can help her? Even if they didn’t say no to helping Snow White out of sheer spite to me, they might refuse to help because she’s a princess, and they’ll insist they can’t meddle with politics!
“If she is merely sleeping, we can take her to the Conclave,” Marzell began.
Angelique held up her hand—she had to cut down that hope before it took root. “I’m afraid not. Though I can’t read the spellwork, I can guess at the effects of it. She’s going to get worse, and the more we move her, the faster she’ll dwindle. If you carry her to the Conclave, she’ll die en route.”
Marzell cursed under his breath and resumed pacing.
Aldelbert strolled up to the table, watching Snow White with a thoughtful expression. “You said the spell seemed antiquated, Angel. What does that mean?” he asked, his tone unusually quiet.
Angelique rubbed her hands together, trying to warm them up—though it wasn’t the temperatures that had them ice cold. How could I explain this to the warriors so they’ll understand?
“It’s rather like weapons,” Angelique finally tried. “The techniques and methods used now are far more advanced compared to what was available centuries ago, wouldn’t you agree?”
Aldelbert nodded. “Of course.”
“The same goes for magic. It has changed over the centuries as magic users have grown better at using and controlling it. Our spells are now far more precise and work with a great deal more finesse. Enchanters and Enchantresses are able to bend their magic to their will to cast spells that would normally be outside the range of their powers. It’s why all Lord Enchanters and Lady Enchantresses are skilled in things like illusions, rudimentary weather spells, curse breaking, and so on. Our spellwork is far more complex to account for those improvements.”
Angelique hesitated.
I’m giving away far more than any herb wizard should be able to tell, but this is for Snow White.
“The spell that has cut down the princess is something rudimentary but extremely brutal. It bears none of the complexity of modern magic, but it has something darker at its roots.”
“How could a rogue mage have that kind of knowledge?” Marzell asked. “Do the Chosen have those kinds of resources at their disposal?”
“Are we perhaps dealing with someone more powerful?” Wendal didn’t look up from his daggers as he fanned them between his fingers. “A rogue enchanter or enchantress, perhaps?”
Could whoever I’m facing off be a rogue enchanter? No—that’s impossible. It would be an enormous scandal if even an apprentice enchanter or enchantress went rogue. I’ve never heard of such a thing in the entire history of the Conclave! But it is possible a black mage could study the old ways. Rothbart was a sorcerer, and he was powerful enough to create a wyvern.
“There is no such thing,” Angelique said. “As for Marzell’s question, I’m afraid you are right: they do have those kinds of resources. It seems they kept meticulous records—more so than the library of the Conclave. Compared to them, we are nearly ignorant in the old ways of magic.”
Marzell stopped pacing again. “Is there nothing more you can do for her?”
“I’ll keep looking, but the best course of action is to try and reach the Veneno Conclave and ask directly for the Council’s help.” Angelique glanced back at Snow White.
I’m not giving up. But it’s hard to tell if I should be the one to contact the Veneno Conclave and risk the Council’s wrath for the slim chance they’ll move, or if I should remain here and keep trying to crack whatever this is.
Angelique licked her lips. “I could go—I have a method of reaching the Conclave far faster than a regular horse and rider.”
Marzell shook his head. “No—we need you on hand to support Snow White with magic if necessary. We have no one else that can fill that position.”
A part of Angelique eased with Marzell’s decision. I don’t know that the Conclave will help anyway. Maybe at least this way, I can contact Clovicus over my mirror and ask for his advice.
“I understand.” Angelique met Marzell’s gaze, nodded, then returned her attention to Snow White.
I’m certain this spell was not built using Evariste’s powers. Angelique studied the terrible spell again. His magic couldn’t be folded in this way. But I’m not sure if that is a good thing or not.
Angelique was vaguely aware that Marzell, Aldelbert, and Wendal crowded around the cottage fireplace, speaking with voices lowered.
She didn’t pay much attention until she heard Marzell say, “We have to send word to Lord Vitkovci and the others and tell them what has occurred.”
Lord Vitkovci…he was one of the four lords Marzell—representing Snow White—convinced to lend troops to march on Glitzern and save Faina. I don’t imagine he’s going to be quite so merciful to Faina given this new twist.
“We will send a missive to Lord Trubsinn, as well,” Marzell added, naming Snow White’s maternal grandfather.
“Objection.” Aldelbert held his hand up like a boy in a schoolroom. “Snow White specifically wished not to tell her grandfather so as to safeguard Faina’s life.”