They listened. Before I left for Sole, I told them I wanted to find Evariste, and unlike the Veneno Conclave, they listened!
“Of course, we’re hoping you could infiltrate the place, get the information, and leave with the Chosen none the wiser,” Elle continued. “But the important thing is getting information on Evariste. Severin instructed me to give you whatever you need to accomplish this—money, charms, I could guide you—”
Stil had been nodding sagely at her words, but he frowned with her last offer. “He didn’t say that.”
“He didn’t say it with words, but I felt it in his heart,” Elle smoothly said. “If Angelique says she needs me, Severin would not refuse her!”
Stil shrugged. “I’ll whip some charms up for you, Angel,” he offered. “Shouldn’t take me more than a week.”
“I think you should take some starfire crystals, too,” Gemma said. “Quite a lot of them—in case you encounter hellhounds.”
Angelique started to shake her head. “I’ll gladly take the starfires, but waiting a week for the charms is too long—”
Quinn subtly shifted, making Angelique glance at her. The blonde-haired soldier offered her a nod. “We will need time to prepare and make our plans,” she reminded her.
Angelique flicked her eyes to the marked spot on the map, then exhaled. “You’re right. I’m just paranoid. I can’t shake the feeling that if we don’t move fast enough, they may close up shop.”
Elle made a noise of dissent in the back of her throat. “I can understand your fear. However, it was a ranger who discovered this workshop—not a mage. The Chosen won’t have even the faintest idea they’ve been discovered. Besides, this stronghold has been around for at least a decade based on the supply chain. It’s not temporary, so they’re not going to suddenly flee into the night.”
“Right. Very well.” Angelique bit her lip. “We’re not going to tell any other mages, are we?”
“Not yet,” Stil said.
“Not until you find what you need,” Gemma added.
“Yes, it’s just sheer coincidence we’ve forgotten to tell our allies. Silly me!” Elle’s tinkling laugh made a shard of a smile return to Angelique. “But speaking of our allies, the craftmages have finished another batch of magic mirrors, and I have one for you.”
Angelique blinked in surprise. “Me?”
“Indeed!” Elle stepped away from the crowded desk and approached a wooden crate set by the door. “Let me see if I can find yours.”
“It’s the one with the silver ribbon around it,” Stil called. “No, not that porcelain one—the mirror part is more oval shaped, and it’s set in silver.”
“Aha! It’s this one, isn’t it?” Elle plucked a small hand mirror set in silver, decorated with fancy fleurs that gave the mirror an air of sophistication.
“Yep, that would be it.” Stil smugly puffed up his chest. “I specially charmed this one for you, Angel.”
“Thank you?” Angelique reluctantly took the mirror, the soft ribbon that was looped through a hole punched through the base of the handle caressed her knuckles as it draped over her hands. “But I’m not sure I should take it. No one will be able to contact me. Ever since Evariste was taken, I’ve shielded my presence from most tracking and spying spells, including the ones magic mirrors use to establish contact.”
“Yes, but that won’t affect any messages you try to send,” Stil said.
“And that’s our main concern.” Elle flopped down into a chair pulled up to Severin’s desk with a carelessness that still managed to look graceful. “You’ve been in so many dangerous situations on your own. It would make us all feel a lot better knowing you have a fast way of contacting us rather than relying on sending physical messages that take longer to reach us.”
“She’s right.” Gemma briefly looked up from the sash she was hemming. “It’s a necessary precaution, even though Prince Severin has personally stated he will refuse to ask you to enter said dangerous situations on your own ever again.”
By the knowing light in her gray eyes, Angelique knew Gemma had chosen her words carefully.
Back when Severin and Elle had hosted the Summit—where most of the countries on the continent agreed to work together to fight the Chosen—the other mages had been less than useful and had volunteered Angelique to investigate a sorcerer that was terrorizing the country of Kozlovka.
Angelique ended up fighting a wyvern by herself as a result of that horrible decision.
She’d been angry and more than a little bitter about it and had somewhat yelled at Severin when—after defeating the wyvern—he’d asked her to head off to Sole on his behalf.
Apparently, he’d taken her complaints to heart.
Angelique mashed her lips together as she carefully cradled the slight weight of the mirror in her hands and felt like crying.
They care. They’re listening.
“Thank you,” Angelique said, her voice small.
Elle reached across the desk and squeezed her hand. “Of course.”
Angelique cleared her throat and coughed. “I’ll use it to tell you what we learn after infiltrating the Chosen location.”
“Yes, that would be splendid!” Elle said. “Speaking of which, I shall continue with the report we received. While many goods pass through the Chosen den, it appears that most of what they work on involves imbedding charms into jewelry.”
“Jewelry would be easy to hide and smuggle,” Angelique said.
“But it’s expensive,” Stil said. “Gems and precious metals would cost them quite a bit.”
“Which likely means they have a secured stream of income,” Angelique said.
Elle nodded.
“Or,” Gemma—having returned to her hemming—didn’t even look up. “The Chosen have a number of wealthy and assumedly powerful or well-connected members.”
Angelique planted her hands on the desk. “I hope not. If they have an income stream, it means we can dissolve it. But wealthy members…” She shook her head in dismay.
Quinn rubbed her chin as she circled the desk so she could get a better look at the map. “If I may enquire, what can you tell us about the surrounding geography of this Chosen location?”
“Ah, yes.” Elle unrolled a sketch of a building. “It’s surrounded by woods—the best way to provide visual cover, I imagine—and is near a city that is a major trading post…”
“I think the journey from Chanceux Chateau to the Verglas border is nearly a week moving by horseback—on a normal horse.” Angelique glanced to Fluffy—who was still chewing on the scarf he’d swiped from a stableboy at their exit approximately an hour prior.
Apparently he eats textiles for his meals. Given that he belongs to Emerys, I can’t bring myself to be surprised.
Pegasus didn’t seem to care about Fluffy’s eating habits. He pranced every few steps and snorted at the woods.
Why is he showing off so?
She shook her head—for all his power, sometimes Pegasus acted more like a temperamental child than an ancient being.