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.”
Neither she nor Tristisim bothered to look at Evariste—the supposedly nefarious black mage. They were both watching her.
Angelique stared at them for a long moment. Just how long have they been this stupid? This is how the Chosen got their claws in our lands—because the people who are supposed to lead us are so blind, they can’t even tell friend from foe!
“Black mages have used Evariste’s magic for the past six years because they harvested it from him while he was their captive.” Tendrils of her magic wrapped around her fingers and skated down her arms, giving her voice an extra edge to it.
Enchantress Galendra shook her head. “If only that were so,” she meekly said.
“We have long suspected there was a spy in our top ranks—an enchanter or enchantress who worked with the black mages. We’d been keeping an eye on Evariste for that reason,” Enchanter Crest added.
Considering they were accusing Evariste, the prodigy of Enchanters and beloved goldenboy, they seemed remarkably unconcerned. Instead, they were sifting through papers, of all things!
“Are you mad?” Angelique slammed her fists on top of the railing, impatiently waving off her magic when it twined around her. “Because this cannot be a serious charge.”
“We have been very careful in watching Lord Enchanter Evariste—” Enchantress Felicienne began.
“Careful? You gave me to him—a war mage with the power of an enchantress! If you suspected him, that was the most foolish thing you could have done!” Angelique shook her head, unable to believe what she was hearing. Had the Chosen gotten to the Council and brainwashed all of them with some variation of black magic? Because that was the only explanation for this astounding stupidity, unless…