Pegasus didn’t seem entirely convinced, but he stayed where he was, letting Angelique lean against him.
“At least the elf curse didn’t involve true love or love’s first kiss.” Angelique shivered in revulsion. “I’m so sick of those counter-curses, I could tear my hair out. That’s been the pattern for almost this entire time. Although now that I think of it, based on the timeline of when the elves disappeared, their curse was probably the first one cast.”
Angelique had gone to Themerysaldi as soon as she had confirmed Evariste really was taken. It was a few weeks after the initial attack—because Evariste had shoved her through a portal in the house’s sitting room that opened up in the snowy country of Verglas and shut the gate behind her, which meant she had to travel back across the continent to reach the cottage again.
But Prince Severin was the first official curse Angelique had personally witnessed, and he hadn’t been cursed until after the Veneno Conclave had thoroughly investigated the attack and Evariste’s disappearance. And his curse was the first of many that Angelique had found had a weakness against true love counter-curses.
It seems like there is something important about that…
Pegasus pricked his ears, stirring Angelique. “What is it?”
He turned his head to Alabaster Forest.
Curious, Angelique looked with him and was able to pick up the faint thud of pounding hooves.
“Must be a messenger sent to tell me,” Angelique predicted. She rubbed her hands together in anticipation. “I should send word to Clovicus and Prince Severin—we finally have hope again!”
The hoofbeats grew louder, until a creature emerged from the woods.
It was huge—roughly the size of Pegasus—and it was something of a cross between a stag and a horse.
It possessed the noble face and delicate build of a deer, but its body was more equine, and its coat was fuzzy warm fur not unlike a wolf’s. It was black with white socks and gray swirls of magic that moved across its neck, shoulders, and rump.
Angelique recognized it as one of King Themerysaldi’s unusual, magical mounts. She squinted at its back, and sure enough, both the Elf King and Quinn were perched there.
“Angelique!” Themerysaldi shouted, breaking the muffled silence the lightly falling snow created.
His odd mount slowed from a canter to a trot as they entered the edges of Sideralis. “Angelique!”
Angelique grinned as the pair rode closer. “I know, I know. Your curse is broken.” She brushed some snow off her shoulders. “It woke me out of a dead sleep when it shattered. Congratulations!”
She was about to offer to set off some celebratory fireworks or lights or something when she finally recognized that the joyous occasion did not match Themerysaldi’s tense posture.
He slithered off his mount, his shoulders tight as he ran a hand through his hair. Emotions flashed across his face like quicksilver now that it was no longer covered by that stupid mask the curse had put him in.
“No—I mean, yes. Thanks.” He furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head like an unruly stallion. “But that’s not why I’m here.”
Angelique frowned. “Did something go poorly?” She flicked her eyes to Quinn, who was sliding off the odd mount, and studied her for any sign of injury. “…Are you well, Quinn?”
“It’s the goblins,” Themerysaldi said. “We’re not prepared for them at all. We didn’t expect Quinn to break the curse, but she did. The Farset army isn’t in position to help us, and the wall that protected us is gone with the curse!”
Angelique straightened, the giddiness over the broken curse leaving as it dawned on her what breaking the curse would put into motion. “But your magic is back?”
“And terribly weakened.” Themerysaldi’s expression was troubled and stormy. “It took multiple elves to do a temporary heal on Quinn.”
Weakened elves aren’t the best forces I’d hope for right now, but we’ll manage.
She reached for her magic and started a mental checklist of the spells that would be most helpful against an army of goblins. “Very well. Pegasus and I will fight with your people. You’ve sent messages to King Dirth? If we can hold out long enough—”
“Angelique.” Themerysaldi waited until she met his gaze. “We need you to use your core magic.”
Angelique didn’t even stop to consider the absurd request. “No. That’s not an option.” She turned to face Pegasus and wondered if she was awake enough to struggle onto his back, or if she needed him to find a crate she could stand on to give her a boost.
Themerysaldi approached her. “We will die if you don’t.”
Angelique almost rolled her eyes at the sheer drama of it.
We’re fighting goblins, not an army of wraiths. They’re not difficult to dispose of. Heavens know I’ve finished many of them while hoping for his royal-pain to emerge, she thought uncharitably.
She tried to keep the scoff from her voice—he was Evariste’s closest friend, after all—but she was pretty sure it leaked through anyway. “You’re facing goblins, Your Majesty. They may have numbers, but they are stupid creatures.”
“That doesn’t matter,” Themerysaldi said. “My generals—all my warriors are gone! The Farset army is hours away from arriving. The elves will be slaughtered if you don’t act. You are our only hope.”
“Only hope?” Angelique whirled around, the last shreds of her good mood shattering with his empty platitudes. “Do you know how many times I have been told that over the past five years? I have worked myself to exhaustion—until I can’t even breathe. I have given everything when all I want is to find Evariste. But instead, I sacrifice my life and blood to help every blasted country on this awful continent!”
Something akin to bitterness seethed in Angelique—she was sick of what amounted to guilt tactics. “I give and give and give. And yet you want more? It’s not enough. It’s never enough. Now you need me to use my core magic as well? You want me to sacrifice my very self!”
“Your magic is a part of you,” said Themerysaldi—the Elf King with magic so pure and clean, it was whiter than snow.
It was the height of hypocrisy, and it made Angelique snarl. “My magic would have me turn into a being of blood and slaughter. Every time I use it, I can feel a piece of my soul flake off, and I am that much closer to losing myself altogether and becoming a mindless murderer.”
Predictably, Themerysaldi protested. “It’s not like that!”
“Oh, really?” A bark of laughter escaped Angelique’s control. “Please remind me what it is you are asking me to do again? That’s right—destroy a goblin army!”
“You are the only one who can help us.”
Angelique scoffed at the pale words she’d heard over and over. “Yes, just as I was the only one who could help Sole stop Carabosso when King Giuseppe himself wouldn’t save his people. Just as I was the only one who could destroy the wyvern in Kozlovka, and just as I was the only one who could aid nearly every cursed royal family. I am exhausted, Themerysaldi. I have given until I have nothing left, and yet it is always I who must make the sacrifice, do more, roll up my sleeves and face one more rogue mage or curse!” Angelique planted herself, every muscle in her body tensed as she shook her head. “It is time for someone else to take the burden. I cannot.”