She hadn’t saved Evariste for his magic, but the idealist part of herself she usually tried to strangle into submission had built up the impression that everything would be solved if Evariste was freed.
But the Chosen are still running their network they’ve had centuries to put into place; Evariste can’t use magic, and now that Evariste is back, the Council is probably going to try and charge me with all the accusations they couldn’t while he was gone.
It was always going to be like that, though. Evariste is impossibly talented, but just as it would be unfair for the alliance to expect me to fix everything, I can’t expect Evariste to solve all our problems. And what I really wanted was to get him back.
Still, realizing Evariste was blocked from his magic was strangely difficult for Angelique to process as he’d always been in the role of her teacher—her superior. What did that make him now?
Here. He’s here. That’s all that matters. Even if he can’t use his magic, he’ll stand with me, and I don’t care what the Council or Conclave says.
Snow White fidgeted and looked like she wanted to press the topic, but somewhere behind her, the Seven Warriors stirred.
Marzell pointed to one of the broken windows. “Guards up!”
Four gray-clothed figures scrambled in through the window.
Chapter 30
Angelique immediately reached for her magic.
Those aren’t Mullberg soldiers. They’re not wearing uniforms, and they sparkle with magic!
The tallest black mage—they had to be from one of the two nearby Chosen hideouts—hurled a glob of bubbling fire magic at Snow White, Angelique, and Evariste.
Angelique beckoned, and chunks of the obsidian armor from the destroyed constructs zoomed across the room, forming a wall and blocking the fire.
“Snow White!” Fritz shouted.
Angelique scowled as the molten fire spattered against the armor—the sick feeling in her gut twisting.
I haven’t had enough time to recover, which means if I’m not careful, I could get sick in the middle of the fight, and then they’ll take Evariste again!
Using as little of her magic as possible—she’d have to write a long thank you letter to Puss for all his training—Angelique lifted the onyx swords back into the air. “How did they get here so quickly? I just freed you!”
Evariste swiped a sword that had been tossed aside in the chaos of the fight. “I don’t think they’re here for me.”
What? Why else could they—wait.
Angelique felt the blood drain from her face as she lowered the armor-wall just enough to look over it.
The four mages were gathered around the mirror. Two of them were struggling to peel it off the ground until an older man who resembled a toothpick snatched it up with ease—though he held it as far away from himself as possible.
Angelique rattled off ever curse word she’d learned. “They’re taking the mirror!”
Evariste’s concern seemed to manifest in an overly calm façade. “Has Stil been hanging around you during my absence? He’s the only one I can think of who would know such creative language.” His expression and tone were mild as he adjusted his hold on the sword.
Angelique spun her magic into the most basic warding spell she had—which turned brutal with the unnecessary amount of power she poured into it.
She slapped her hand on the ground so the spell covered both Evariste and Snow White. “Stay down—both of you!” She launched herself over the armor wall—ignoring the unsettling roll in her stomach—and gestured at the onyx swords, snapping her magic.
The swords redistributed, then stabbed at the black mages as the skinny man hauled the mirror toward the window.
One of the mages tapped his own magic and ripped the layer of obsidian stone off the floor, creating a protective shell. The onyx swords slammed into the shell—making some of it crumple—but they were unable to reach the mages.
The mage with the fire magic formed another bubbling ball. Just as he raised his hand to throw the fire at Angelique, a crossbow bolt struck his bicep.
He collapsed to the ground, shouting in pain.
“Now!” Marzell yelled.
The Seven Warriors attacked, throwing daggers and shooting more bolts at them. The mage—who must have had a core magic for stone work or something similar—hurriedly peeled up more of the expensive flooring, reinforcing his shell.
The fourth Chosen mage hopped through the broken window. The stick-like mage that carried the mirror tried to slide it through behind them, but the mirror’s frame caught on the sides of the window.
It was too wide.
If the situation wasn’t so dire, Angelique would have laughed out loud.
Instead, she loosened another swirl of her core magic, adjusted the position of the onyx swords, and struck again. She swiped the swords in a wide arc—attempting to take out the stone shell so the Seven Warriors could get a shot at the Chosen mages again while giving her at least a chance at breaking the mirror. Or at least damaging it.
But although the onyx weapons dragged across the face of the mirror with a screech that made everyone wince—except for the Chosen mage who was outside and screaming as the group uselessly tried to pull the mirror through the window—they didn’t leave so much as a scratch on its surface.
One of the swords shattered on impact with the mirror. The reverb jarred Angelique straight to her core and made her ears ring.
“Lord Vitkovci!” Snow White shouted with an admirable amount of volume, audible even above the racket of the fight.
Angelique glanced back, but Snow White had thankfully remained inside the ward as she shouted for the Mullberg lord. Evariste was safely there, too, but he had a curious expression on his face as he stared at Angelique.
Later.
Angelique flicked at her magic, again ramming the swords into the stone shell (which buckled) and trying to drive them through the mirror (which did nothing).
The mages must have realized Angelique would soon get them because the stone mage started throwing pumpkin-sized rocks at Angelique, providing cover for his compatriots. The spindly mage scrambled out from behind the shell to try rotating the mirror and shove it through, his movements frantic.
Angelique ducked a thrown rock but trusted her ward to shield Evariste and Snow White.
A painful clang sounded behind her. Angelique swung around just long enough to see that Fritz had intercepted one of the rocks with a metal shield and was beckoning for Snow White to get back behind the armor wall.
Yes, they’ll be a good match. He’ll have enough preservation skills to help Snow White live longer.
Angelique used the onyx swords again—attempting to directly hit the Chosen mage with the strength magic. He nimbly climbed under the mirror, avoiding the attack, and from his crouched position, he managed to finally flip the mirror at an angle that let its frame slide through the window.
He jumped out after it, the stone mage and fire mage right behind him.
“NO!” Angelique loosened her hold on her magic so it raged freely around her.
Incensed, she darted around the stone shell and scrambled through the broken window—being careful not to scratch herself on the jagged glass.
There was a bit of a drop outside, but she landed on the roof of an intersecting castle wing with a solid thud.