Themerysaldi mashed his lips together, then nodded. “I thank you, Lady Enchantress Angelique. The elves will owe you a great debt for your aid this evening, and you will be marked as an elf-friend of the highest caliber.”
“Thank you.” Angelique barely refrained from pointing out how much of this drama could have been spared if he hadn’t been such a pest about criticizing her during her years of apprenticeship to Evariste and had named her an elf-friend years ago.
Angelique glanced back at Quinn—the two elves were judiciously wrapping her shoulder. This is it, I guess. I may as well ride out and kill some more. Alone. Again.
She sucked in a breath of air and prepared to duck out of the room when Themerysaldi got in the way and stood in the doorframe, talking to the scout.
“Gather a small band of archers—the best we have here in Sideralis,” Themerysaldi said. “Tell the stables to prepare fresh horses—we’ll ride out with the Lady Enchantress.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” The scout bowed and slipped around the Elf King, darting out of view.
Angelique stared dumbly at Themerysaldi. “You’re sending elves to come with me?”
Themerysaldi stalked up to the bedside and studied the unconscious Quinn with an intensity that furrowed his brows. “Of course. We’re not going to send you off by yourself. And I’d be a shoddy king if I didn’t at least try to help you.”
“You’re coming with me?” Angelique asked.
Themerysaldi looked away from Quinn just long enough to scoff. “Obviously.”
“What about Quinn?”
Themerysaldi grimaced. “While I would prefer to stay with her, there is little point at the moment as my magic hasn’t recovered enough for me to perform even the most basic healing spell.” He narrowed his eyes as he studied Quinn—she was still pale, but Angelique thought a touch of her color might have returned.
“Besides,” Themerysaldi continued. He gently brushed a loose lock of hair off Quinn’s forehead. “I have the suspicion that if Quinn awoke and found out I shirked out on my responsibilities and stayed here, she’d thump me—after recruiting Alastryn for aid.”
His observation was so unexpected—but so correct—a startled puff of laughter escaped Angelique. “Very well,” she said. “In that case, please lead the way, King Themerysaldi.” The scant moment of humor left her as her smile faded away. “We’d best ride out to the fight—or the goblins will soon be upon us.”
Angelique stood in the shadows of the forest. She had no idea what time of night it was—the human half of the woods had towering evergreen trees that blocked out the sky. The only light she had to see by were the glowing flames of Pegasus’ mane and tail.
The constellation sniffed at a bald shrub and snorted at it, breathing glowing sparks.
Angelique absently stepped on the few sparks that survived falling to the forest floor and snuffed them out—a practiced habit since she’d come to ride the magical equine—while she listened to the faint hoots and hollers of the goblins.
“You know, this isn’t really necessary.” She glanced at Themerysaldi—who was leaning against a tree, caressing the fletching of an arrow tucked into his belt quiver. “I can march out and off the army in one go like I did earlier.” She hesitated. “Unless…you’re afraid I’ll hurt one of your people?”
Themerysaldi snorted at her. “Considering how you’ve grown, you still have moments of great stupidity, I see.”
“I beg your pardon?” Angelique didn’t bother to keep the snarl out of her voice.
“You aren’t going to hurt my people,” Themerysaldi said. “You might be tempted to kick me in the shins, but you wouldn’t harm any innocents—no matter how mad I make you.” He pulled the arrow from his belt quiver and absently tested the chiseled tip. “But there’s no need to make you experience your price if we can avoid it. If we can stave off some of your sickness by carving off chunks of the goblin army and making them easier to fight, it’s worth the effort.”
Angelique brushed a lock of her dark hair from her face. “Funny. I never pegged you as thoughtful.”
Themerysaldi shrugged. “I’m not shy about needing help, but I know you pay a price for it. Just as it’s my duty to spare my people, it’s my responsibility to aid you as much as I can.”
He tilted his head as he listened to the forest. “It sounds like my people have successfully separated another band of goblins and are driving them this way—about thirty of them, maybe?”
Angelique stuck her chin out as she struggled to listen, but to her ears the goblins sounded as far away as they had previously. “Any idea how long until they’ll be within range?”
“Several minutes,” Themerysaldi said. “They’ll have to clean up any scouts that notice the missing forces.”
Angelique’s core magic—cool to the touch and sharp—twined around her fingertips. She impatiently flicked it away, then wiped her hands off on her skirt. “Excellent. Thank you.”
Themerysaldi pursed his lips. “Why are you so afraid of your war magic?”
Angelique sighed. “As annoying as you can be, King Themerysaldi, I’ve never thought you to be an idiot. Haven’t we been over this enough?”
“Yes, but all your rebuttals are dodgy at best: your magic is suited for war and bloodshed, it’s dangerous, and so on and so forth with all kinds of drabble that sound like something a Veneno Conclave bureaucrat would rattle off.”
“I hurt Evariste with my core magic,” Angelique reminded him.
“Once, when you were a student, and Evariste was acting like a stupid dunce who—frankly—deserved to be stabbed, considering how sloppy he was acting,” Themerysaldi said. “But you’re too terrified of your magic for the root of your trauma to be that one incident with Evariste or even the droning of your Luxi-Domus teachers. So. Spit it out—what is it?”
Angelique squinted at the Elf King, considering him.
His inky black hair had a blue haze to it from the light of Pegasus’ mane, but the look on his face was a rare mesh of seriousness and curiosity.
I’ve never been overly fond of Themerysaldi—he’s too sharp and rude. Or maybe it’s that his poor temperament is too much like mine. But I respect him. He’s powerful, and he knows what he’s doing. And as a friend of Evariste’s, I know I can trust him.
Angelique pressed her lips together, then slowly nodded. “I don’t like what happens when I use my magic.”
“The end result?”
“That, too. But I was referring to the feeling of my magic itself.”
Themerysaldi peered into the woods—looking in the direction of the goblin cackles that were slowly drawing closer. “Describe it.”
“It’s very…eager to be used.” Angelique spread her fingers wide and watched silvery magic pool at her fingertips, even though she hadn’t pulled on her powers. “Too eager. If I lose my death grip on it, it’ll run wild.”
“And that’s a bad thing?”
“Yes!” Angelique shivered. “It’s so potent it feels…no…I’ve seen it consume other magic. It doesn’t fight for dominance; it overpowers and eats other magic. I fought a black mage before I came to Alabaster Forest, and my magic almost swallowed him whole.”