“I’m aware of this, but the situation has changed, Aldelbert,” Marzell said. “Snow White lies on a table—possibly dying—because of Faina. We cannot let the princess die because of her affection for her stepmother.”
The trio argued further, but Angelique could see that Aldelbert and Wendal were weakening against their leader.
It’s as I thought. Because Snow White was content to have Marzell give the orders, everything will collapse because no one has the passion to save Faina as Snow White does.
Angelique rubbed her forehead. And Evariste is mixed up in there as well. What do I do if the Mullberg lords march on Faina—not for an undercover operation like Snow White planned, but for war?
Angelique’s gaze strayed to Snow White. Besides the pallor of her skin, she looked almost peaceful.
Snow White, you need to wake up. I need to rip this spell apart to wake you!
The mirror was positively giddy. Or at least as giddy as an evil, twisted, magical artifact could be.
Its magic pulsed through Evariste, and he could feel it stretching its powers through the castle, building constructs with abandon.
Whatever it sent Faina to do, it wasn’t good.
Evariste risked sitting up and peering out of the mirror’s surface.
Faina stood just outside it—sallow faced, emotionless, and swaying slightly as she stood like a puppet held up by strings.
Evariste briefly shut his eyes and tried to feel for the mirror.
Though it stretched all around him, he could feel its attention on the army of constructs it was building in the palace.
It must have done something to Snow White. It made Faina travel earlier today. She must have gone fairly far away, given that it used some of my core magic to make a gate for her, but I couldn’t see where she went since it constructed the gate out of my eyesight. I imagine it had to—or my magic wouldn’t have worked, given my limit.
Evariste rolled to his feet. Although there was a perpetual ache in his chest (and when the mirror was being particularly brutal, it could still make him collapse and choke, unable to breathe), he could move much easier thanks to the snatches of moments he’d taken to stretch, walk, and even occasionally run since Angelique’s tracking spell.
He quietly approached the mirror’s surface—or at least as close to it as the mirror’s magic would let him—putting him directly opposite Faina.
Although he knew it wouldn’t help, Evariste reached for his magic, and ran into the accursed wall.
Angelique’s magic flickered around the blockade, and he caressed it as he stared into Faina’s distant, unfocused eyes.
If I can’t reach her with magic, maybe I could at least get her to hear me?
“Queen Faina,” Evariste said.
The Queen didn’t move, but thankfully the mirror didn’t seem to care, either, as it cooked up a batch of the larger constructs.
I hope it doesn’t intend to attack the servants and guards.
Evariste took a breath, then tried again. “Queen Faina of Mullberg. You’re in terrible danger. You need to wake up.”
He waited for a moment…but there was nothing.
The Queen didn’t even blink.
Evariste folded his arms across his chest as he thought.
She got worse after Snow White left—which was the only change in surroundings at the time. The mirror had already been feeding off me for…well…I’m not sure how long given the strange passage of time in here, but it was surely months. But if she gave into the mirror’s power after Snow White left, does that mean she resisted until she believed the princess was safe?
“Queen Faina,” Evariste tried again. “Princess Snow White is fighting the mirror. It’s sent enemies after her, and she’s defeated them.”
Again, she didn’t react.
“She’s trying to free you,” Evariste said, pressing the matter. “Princess Snow White is doing battle—for you.”
Evariste didn’t know that for certain, but he was willing to hedge his bets given the mirror’s vitriol to the princess and from what he’d seen of the Queen and Princess’s relationship.
For a moment, Evariste thought he saw something flicker in Queen Faina’s eyes. They weren’t quite as blank, and there almost seemed to be a light in them again.
And then the mirror’s attention slammed into Evariste with the subtly of a landslide.
“Fool.”
It was the only warning Evariste got before it ripped magic from him, using enough force to make him drop to his knees, jarring him so badly, his spine cracked.
He couldn’t breathe—again. Unfortunately, no matter how often that happened, his body still seemed to panic, and it was difficult to stay calm as agony ran him through like a sword.
“You can do nothing. You are weak, and your magic is thinning. Soon, you will be of no use to me, and then I’ll crush you entirely.”
Pain rocked Evariste. Hold it in. He clenched his teeth, unwilling to let a shout out—he wasn’t going to give the mirror that kind of satisfaction anymore.
Through the waves of pain, Evariste could see Faina turn around and march across the room, her limbs unnaturally stiff as the mirror sent her off.
Yes. Snow White is surely the key to Queen Faina.
Evariste gritted his teeth and shut his eyes before mentally retreating to the well of his magic. He couldn’t reach his own powers, but Angelique’s sharp, cold magic was a balm to the pain. And after several excruciating minutes, her magic sliced enough of the mirror’s hold off of him that he could breathe again.
Once I’m freed, I’m going to see that this mirror is destroyed and not even a shard remains.
As Marzell had declared, the warriors sent word to Lord Trubsinn.
The man sent a rather scathing letter back that browbeat the warriors for putting Snow White in danger and not immediately sending her to him as soon as she arrived, but Angelique took that as the heartbroken words of a man who’d already buried his daughter, son-in-law, and now very well may have to bury his granddaughter as well.
Lord Trubsinn said he would send word to the Veneno Conclave, but given her experience with them, Angelique was unconvinced they would do much.
Two days after Snow White was attacked, Fritz returned.
Witnessing the forester’s broken gaze as he watched Snow White was enough to rip Angelique’s heart asunder.
She could imagine a little of his pain. Evariste was her teacher—not the object of her affection—but the pain of losing him had nearly undone her.
That was why when night came, Angelique pretended to sleep, fully expecting Fritz to make a move.
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.”