Themerysaldi threw an arm wide. “There is no one else! The Veneno Conclave cannot—or will not—aid any of the countries. Yes, you have faced horrible injustices and difficulties—and not through any fault of your own but rather through the failing of the Veneno Conclave! But you have the power to save us. Will you abandon us when we need you?”
There was enough truth in his words to make Angelique paused and rub her eyes as she thought.
Is it really so hopeless that if I refuse to use my magic, the elves will be lost? I assume I am the easiest source of help at the moment, but it can’t truly be that bad. The elves are freed! Even without their warriors among their number, they are still a powerful people.
Themerysaldi—proving he never knew when to keep his mouth shut—continued. “Do you think Evariste would approve of this? Of refusing to help us?”
He dared to speak so sanctimoniously to her? When it was obvious he wasn’t inclined to help her search for his dear friend in the future?
Angelique’s core magic bubbled to the surface, and she barely kept it in check as she let all of the hostility she was feeling for the capricious Elf King show in her eyes. “Evariste isn’t here,” she growled. “And though everyone is oh-so-eager to receive help from me, no one has helped me search for him.”
Themerysaldi did a fair job of appearing contrite. “Angelique, we were trapped in our own woods. When this is over, we will gladly—” he tried to begin with the empty promises.
“No, no, no,” Angelique’s hands twitched as she had to push her magic down, even though its coldness would have maybe made this whole ordeal hurt a lot less. “Let’s not bother to pretend you will actually help me if we all do indeed survive. The moment this is over, you are going to set out, intent on rescuing your precious generals and warriors.”
Emerys had nothing to say in return, only proving Angelique’s point.
In her cynicism, Angelique turned her back on the dratted elf. “No, instead it will again be up to me to comb the continent. Zancara, Verglas, Kozlovka, Arcainia, Farset, Sole, Erlauf, Ringsted, Torrens, Loire, and Baris. I’ve been everywhere, and yet I can’t uncover even a hint of where he is being held!”
A moment passed in desolate silence.
“What of Mullberg?” Quinn asked.
Angelique straightened—she had forgotten the soldier was present. “What of it?”
Another few moments passed before Quinn spoke again. “Have you searched Mullberg?”
Angelique was so surprised Quinn was actually addressing the issue of searching for Evariste rather than the need to wipe out the goblins, she almost spun around to gawk at the woman. However, her magic was still sputtering deep inside her, and she wasn’t entirely sure the illusion that colored her eyes and covered up their eerie shade of silver was working. Quinn was the last person on the continent that Angelique wanted to show the shadowy undertones of her magic to. So she settled for shifting to stare at a nearby building.
“No. I haven’t bothered,” she said. “The Veneno Conclave is located in Mullberg. No rogue mage with two intelligent thoughts in his mind would hold Master Evariste captive there. The Conclave would sense it.”
“Are you certain?” Quinn’s voice was reluctant but calm. “The Conclave has maintained the position that it is unable to aid any countries. I would think that would include Mullberg, or there would be an outcry.”
The thought surprised Angelique so much that she was only capable of blinking like an idiot.
She couldn’t be right, could she? It’s the Veneno Conclave! But they were so inept as to let Carabosso escape, and they haven’t moved on much beyond that.
“Also,” Quinn awkwardly cleared her throat. “Based on the way the Conclave has failed to stop the Chosen and the rogue magic users that you have faced off with, can you confidently say they would really go so far as to search Mullberg for him?”
Angelique frowned hard.
She has an unfortunate point. I assumed…but I also assumed eventually I’d get more help from the Conclave in this fight against the Chosen, and that hasn’t been true at all either.
Quinn picked her way around Themerysaldi and stood in front of Angelique, her eyes shining with the loyalty and honor that had probably been what broke the elves’ curse. “You are right, Angelique,” she said. “You have carried many burdens that should not be yours to bear alone. You protected and guarded those in need. You have stood up for us when no other magic user has. When this is over—no matter what magic you use or do not use—I will help you search for Lord Enchanter Evariste.”
The offer was genuine—Quinn was too honorable to lie to her. Angelique knew that even though they’d only been acquainted for a short time. Even so, she felt afraid to hope it was real. “You will?” she asked.
Something in Quinn’s expression flickered. “I will,” she said with a firmness and a glance that dared Themerysaldi to disagree with her. “I’m afraid I’m only a soldier, but I will use everything at my disposal to help you.”
“But can you leave Farset?” Angelique tilted her head. “King Dirth…”
“Then I will leave the army,” Quinn said, with the same calmness one used to announce dinner was served.
When Angelique gaped at her, Quinn offered her an understanding smile. “You have borne much, Angelique, but it seems to me you see very little of worth in yourself. Even now what you want most is to find Lord Enchanter Evariste—whom you do believe is worthy. I will help you not because your master deserves to be found or because of all the things you have done for the continent, but because you give beyond your capacity out of your desire to spare others.”
Angelique felt as scrupulous as a rogue mage, and she shifted uncomfortably. “How can you say that when I refuse to use my core magic?”
“We all have limits,” Quinn said. “We all have fears. Besides, it is high time that someone step in to ease your pain.” She smiled as she held out her hand.
Angelique finally got a good look at Quinn and noticed that her shirt was spattered with bloodstains which were likely—based on the slices in her garment—from her own blood.
Quinn had just broken the elves’ curse, been wounded, and was prepared to go face goblins, and she not only offered help to Angelique, she took the time to understand and leave the choice up to her.
Themerysaldi doesn’t deserve her. She’s too noble, like Evariste.
It dimly occurred to Angelique that perhaps she and Themerysaldi were more alike than she cared to admit because she hardly deserved the kindness and friendship her teacher had always showered on her as well.
Irritatingly, the memory of Evariste made tears well up in her eyes.
“You remind me of him—Evariste, I mean,” Angelique finally replied. “He is—like you—a true hero. Giving endlessly and offering love to those that don’t deserve it.”
A few wayward tears escaped from her eyes, and she wanted to groan at the repeated show of emotion, but Quinn had seen her bawl her eyes out. A few tears were hardly noteworthy in comparison. She glanced at the Elf King to see his reaction.
He, surprisingly, looked pensive, and perhaps a little repentant?
Angelique cleared her throat and held out her hand, palm up.