Nefari stared at Elle, and his forehead started to wrinkle again.
If we ever want to confuse the enemy and throw their lives into chaos, we should send out Elle, Angelique decided.
“No,” Elle continued. “We will be returning in two weeks.”
“Two weeks?” Nefari sputtered. “I cannot possibly finish it in two weeks!”
“Then consider it a progress report so we can make certain you are producing a goods that is worthy of Mademoiselle Mystrim!” Elle snapped.
Nefari frowned. “I am a busy man. I don’t have time to play attendant to you.”
Gabrielle sighed, then glided across the room, making for Angelique, Quinn, and the hallway.
“Two weeks!” Elle clarified as she hopped after Gabrielle, scurrying down the hallway. “We’ll return in two weeks!”
Nefari frowned but gestured for Angelique and Quinn to exit the showroom ahead of him.
As Quinn and Angelique strolled down the hallway, Angelique glanced at the doors, but didn’t seen any differentiating details between the doors that would hint what lay behind them.
When Gabrielle reached the front door, she pointedly looked to Elle.
Elle shuffled ahead, intending to push it open, but just before her fingers grazed the iron handle, the Chosen mage spoke.
“Before the esteemed Mademoiselle Mystrim leaves, I must ask you, who recommended my work?” Although the mage’s voice was casual, it made the hairs on the back of Angelique’s neck prickle.
This is a test.
Gabrielle flicked her fan open and fanned herself, then twitched her nose.
“Numerous stores we visited reported that you were the manufacturer of the charms,” Elle sniffed in disapproval. “Mademoiselle said as much when we told you why we’d come.”
“But you had no reason to think I was capable of something that could protect you against the likes of Angelique,” the Chosen mage pointed out. “Was there not someone specific who recommended my services?”
This is bad. This is very bad. We don’t know any of the Chosen mages by name, or we would have arrested them! There’s Carabosso and Suzu, but those are widely known names and might not convince him.
Although she showed no outer panic, Angelique could tell Elle was eyeballing the mage, attempting to figure out what sort of answer she could spin that would please him.
“I heard from a friend of Suzu,” Elle finally answered.
“And what is that friend’s name?” the Chosen mage asked.
Elle narrowed her eyes, and Gabrielle briefly tensed.
“Was it not Acri who told Mademoiselle Mystrim?” The words popped out of Angelique’s mouth before she could think them through.
…What have I done?
Angelique fell silent—her horror was so strong, it made her throat pinch.
I just blurted out a name I dreamed of when I was half-crazed and exhausted… I’ve doomed our entire mission! We’re not going to get any information on Evariste, and it will be my fault! Unless…
Angelique felt her sharp and cool magic ooze around her.
She started to reach for it, except Nefari surprised her into inaction.
“You know Acri?” He widened his eyes, then hurriedly bent over in a bow deeper than any he’d given before. “Then please allow me to express my thanks that you chose to seek my work out. I hope you will give Acri a favorable report.”
Angelique stared at the white hood that covered his head.
Wait. Acri is real? But that means—was my dream real?
That thought was enough to bring an overwhelming mix of emotions: joy (Evariste was alive!); all-consuming disappointment (she’d talked to Evariste and had wasted so many of those precious moments storming about her frustrations instead of getting information from her teacher); and confusion (because Evariste had said and done things in her dream…).
Elle, ever the professional, ignored Angelique’s mental anguish and seamlessly continued her act. “Our recommendation remains to be seen until you have actually finished the necklace,” she emphasized.
Gabrielle pointedly faced the door and tapped her fan on her palm.
Elle yanked it open, mewling in distress when the frosty wind nearly blew her off her feet, and snowflakes pelted her face.
Angelique watched Gabrielle sashay into the cold. Still acting her part, Gabrielle didn’t bother to look back at the cottage as she marched into the woods.
Quinn methodically plodded after her.
The consequences of “Acri” being a real Chosen mage were still dawning on Angelique, making her into a frozen statue. Vaguely, she knew she needed to follow Quinn, but her thoughts were so sludge-like, she barely remembered to breathe!
He tried to give me information, and I brushed him off. And…he tried to kiss me?
Elle wrapped her shawl tight around her shoulders and peered up at Nefari. “Two weeks!” She “accidentally” bumped into Angelique when she turned around and shuffled into the snow outside, jolting Angelique to the present.
Later. I’ll think about this when we’re safely back at our lodgings.
Angelique strode behind Elle, stopping to pick up her sword where it was tipped against the house. She casually tossed Quinn her sword belt as Elle hopped along.
“Mademoiselle, I am coming!” Elle called.
Angelique risked glancing back at the cottage as she buckled her sword belt and settled her cloak back into place.
The Chosen mage bowed again and hadn’t yet closed the door.
Just who is Acri that his mere name changed Nefari’s attitude?
Angelique clung to that thought as she propelled herself forward—it was easier to think about than anything else in her dream. And right now, it was more important to keep their farce believable than to be emotionally honest with herself.
At least, that’s what Angelique told herself as she followed Gabrielle and Elle into the woods, keeping a stranglehold on her thoughts. Because if she let them stray at all…she’d have to think about that almost-kiss.
“What did I say? Chosen brutes are too oblivious for such subtle magics as the sort I use!” Puss jumped from Gabrielle’s shoulder, shaking off his invisibility charm.
The group had returned to their lodgings at a middle-class inn, La Bise, in the Arcainian trading city just over the border. Puss had remained invisible the entire time, until the moment they convened on the tiny, windowless sitting room that adjoined Gabrielle’s larger room. They had to keep the ruse going even there, in case the Chosen decided to follow them.
“Did you already cast a silence charm on the room?” Gabrielle asked.
“Of course I have.” Puss jumped onto a foot stool and draped his tail behind him so it could freely twitch back and forth. “What do you take me for—a stumbling greenhorn? I cast it before I jumped from your shoulder. I’m certainly not going to risk anyone overhearing our subterfuge.”
“Sorry.” Gabrielle collapsed into a straight-backed chair and grimaced. She twisted awkwardly to massage her right shoulder with her left arm. “Have you put on weight? I thought my shoulders were going to give out around the time we left the cottage.”
“How dare you!”
Angelique barely noticed the banter as she stared at her hands, still trying to grasp the idea that Acri was real—that her dreams were real. How? Talking through dreams isn’t a magic I’ve ever heard of. I don’t think Evariste’s magic could have created the connection—he can jump locations, not consciousnesses. And he—