“You’re looking unexpectedly perky considering you flushed out an entire traitorous faction, Angelique.” Clovicus shook out his robes and strolled up to them. Although he smiled, Angelique could see the shadows of grief in his face.
“I hardly did it on my own,” Angelique dryly said. “As I recall last night, you and the war mages took on the responsibility for the clean-up.”
“Yes, yes, yes. We did so much to drive off the stragglers. You merely took on four Council Members by your lonesome and scared them so deeply, they blew their cover.” Despite the lighthearted sound of his voice, his smile faded. Clovicus rested a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “We all owe you a great debt.”
Angelique shrugged miserably. “I didn’t solve any problems. I just revealed them.”
“And if you hadn’t, things only would have gotten worse,” Clovicus said. “It’s not just all the mages we lost; it’s whom we lost.”
“What do you mean?” Angelique asked.
Clovicus glanced around the empty street. “Why don’t you step inside our temporary quarters, and we’ll tell you what we’ve sorted out.”
Angelique nodded and began to amble up to the tent.
Behind her, Evariste said in a bell-light voice. “The two of you seem to have gotten chummy in my absence.”
“Of course.” Clovicus grabbed his one-time pupil by the cloak and ruffled his hair. “Naturally I’d look after your dear apprentice while you were missing.”
“Clovicus and Sybilla were both a great help to me in your absence,” Angelique said. She peered inside the tent, which was lit with starfire crystals and sported a rickety wooden table, a few wooden chairs, and a caddy of cooled tea. “Where is Sybilla? I assumed she would be involved in this discussion.”
“She was,” Clovicus said. “A bit before dawn, she left to go tell Mage Finnr what we’ve discussed.”
“Finnr is still here?” Angelique asked, not quite able to keep her surprise out of her voice. If she had to guess who would be a Chosen mage, she would have thought of him. He was in general grumpy, prone to disagreeing with any action anyone suggested taking on behalf of the continent, and actively refused to help—choosing, instead, to focus on who was breaking what rules of the Veneno Conclave.
“Yes,” Evariste said. “He’s one of the few we can say with confidence is high ranking and not a black mage.”
“Really?” Angelique asked skeptically.
“Try not to let your negative experiences with him color your view,” Clovicus advised. “The man is as fun as a herd of wild pigs, but he sticks to his morals.”
Evariste watched her with a wrinkled brow. “Finnr is…” He looked like he wanted to say something more, but he glanced at Tristisim and Felicienne and fell silent.
The two remaining Council Members sat down in two of the wooden chairs. Felicienne delicately rubbed the spot between her eyes while Tristisim openly scowled at Angelique.
“Thank you,” Tristisim abruptly said.
Angelique looked from Clovicus to Evariste and wondered who he was talking to.
“Apprentice,” Tristisim added. “We owe you our gratitude for last night—though I don’t know you went about it in the best of ways.”
“Excuse me.” Clovicus nodded to Angelique, casually made his way over to Tristisim, and kicked the older Lord Enchanter in the shins with enough force to make the Council Member fold over with a cry of pain. “Since you appear to have the manners of a toddler, please allow me to school you, Lord Enchanter,” Clovicus said in a bright and airy voice. “When profusely thanking the person who may very well be single-handedly responsible for saving the entire Veneno Conclave—perhaps even the continent—one does not go about being ungrateful for the manner in which they performed said deed, namely because one should be overcome with gratitude.”
Tristisim scowled up at Clovicus, his craggy face unhappily lined.
Surprisingly, it was Felicienne who spoke next. “Clovicus is right,” she said. “Angelique, on behalf of the entire Veneno Conclave, thank you for your actions last night. I never expected…Primrose and the others were my friends. I didn’t think they could…” Her hands shook, and she pressed her lips together.
“The events of last night surprised us all,” Angelique carefully replied. “But it is good that we know. Now, we can prepare.”
“Yes,” Clovicus said. “And we’ll need to.”
“Does that refer to your prior comment, about those who left?” Angelique asked.
“Exactly.” Even though Clovicus’ coppery hair was barely burnished with silver, and he appeared to be in his mid-forties or so, he eased himself into a chair with the sigh of an old man. “The danger of the Chosen wasn’t just that they made up a good fourth of our numbers, it was that many of them were in positions of power within the Veneno Conclave.”
“They obviously infiltrated the highest ranks given that four of the six Council Members were secretly Chosen mages. Unfortunately, they inserted themselves everywhere.” Evariste rested his palms on the table and leaned over it, looking haggard.
He doesn’t have his magic, and he’s still doing everything he can.
He met Angelique’s gaze, his face smoothed into an unreadable expression. “The headmaster of Luxi-Domus is missing, as are a number of key faculty members.”
“They were Chosen?”
“Most likely. We’re tracking down any witnesses that might have seen him flee,” Evariste said.
Angelique bit the inside of her cheek. “Sinèad from the Assignments and Appointments Department said her husband, Alfonso left. Rein said Blanche ran, too.”
Clovicus sighed deeply. “That seems about right. Since Sinèad runs the Assignments and Appointments Department, Alfonso would have had easy access to all appointment records and influence over who was sent where. Blanche was a Master Weather Mage and was one of the most respected weather mages of our time. Both of them filled key roles of power, covertly more than overtly.”
“Do you think they were preparing for a takeover?” Angelique asked.
“Assumedly.” Evariste stood straight, then prowled closer to her. “Liliane never spoke about taking over the Veneno Conclave, but she didn’t ever seem particularly concerned about the danger it posed, either.”
“The base goal was likely to make us useless in the coming fight,” Clovicus grimly said.
“They succeeded.” Felicienne held her hand out, her expression almost pleading. “How can we move past this? We can’t be sure who is friend and who is foe, and we’ve all suffered betrayal of one form or another.”
Angelique massaged a knot in her shoulder. “I’ll notify Prince Severin of Loire immediately. Last night’s events will greatly change the strategy he’s been developing against the Chosen. Thankfully, I have a magic mirror I can use to contact him. Oh, and I’ll send word to Princess Snow White, too. She doesn’t have a mirror—yet—so it will have to be a physical message.”
Felicienne frowned. “Of Mullberg.”
Angelique couldn’t help but snark, “I was unaware there was another winter-named princess cavorting around the continent.”