Quinn slowly lifted her arm to her mouth. She must have whispered the right word because Angelique could faintly feel the zing of Stil’s magic as the invisibility spell settled into the fabric of the cloak, and Quinn faded from sight.
“Yes, exactly like that,” Angelique encouragingly said.
When Quinn reversed the spell and faded back into sight, her eyes were comically wide. “Incredible—I have never seen anything like this.” She shook her head and peered down at the black cloak that covered her tall frame. “Are you certain you wish to give this to me? It seems…overly-generous.”
Angelique barely resisted sweeping the valiant soldier up in a hug. She didn’t hold herself back out of a wish to honor her station as an apprentice—mages could go chew on rocks for all she cared anymore—but because it would have been exceedingly forward and probably frightened Quinn more than a little.
“Believe me, it’s not,” she dryly said. “It’s little more than a cast off, but I’m glad you are so pleased with it. I should warn you, it does have some limitations. The invisibility spell will last only for a few hours—though you’ll be able to feel it when the spell starts to weaken, so it won’t be a sudden failure. It’s also true invisibility—so you can’t be seen, but you can still be heard, and if a person walks into you, they will feel you.” Angelique tapped her lower lip as she tried to recall any other limitations that wouldn’t be obvious to anyone unfamiliar with magic. “The spell will affect anything attached to the cloak, so your face won’t show, nor will your clothes if the cloak happens to open.”
Quinn inspected the well-worn cloak with great interest. “Does that mean two people, perhaps, could hide in it?”
A cold gust of wind stirred the tree branches. Angelique didn’t even feel it as her gown—a gift from Evariste—was spelled to keep her warm. Though she did make a noise of frustration when the wind flipped her wild hair over her face. “It is powerful enough to cloak two people, yes. Though moving around in it would be rather difficult, I imagine.” She finished pushing her hair back out of her face just in time to see Quinn bow low.
“Thank you, Angelique,” Quinn said. “This truly is an amazing gift.”
Angelique smiled—and she actually felt it for the first time in a long while. “I hope it helps you as you have helped me.”
The blond soldier shook her head. “I have done nothing to aid you.”
“No, you have. I cannot tell you what your offer of assistance means to me.” Angelique again had to fight off the desire to hug Quinn, but her mirth faded as reality bit through the bubble of happiness her exchange with the soldier had provided. “Unfortunately, I should continue with my search.” It took a lot of effort to keep her smile up, but she managed to force it, even though she felt like hunching over again.
“I understand. But first please let me tell you how to contact me, should you change your mind,” Quinn said.
“I would appreciate that, thank you.” Angelique wiped her hands on her dress, which bloomed into the purple color of the early morning sky.
Quinn once again stood with the straight and perfect posture of a soldier as she met Angelique’s gaze. “Also, I request your permission to inform my superior officer of an enchantress in the area. I will not name you, give your location, or mention the details of our meeting.”
Angelique managed to turn her groan into a sigh at the last second. “When the king hears a report, it will be fairly obvious it is me. I’m the only enchantress on the move at the moment…but I imagine it will be fine.”
Not. The king will undoubtedly try to contact me and ask me to investigate the princesses.
An unhappy hiss almost leaked out of Angelique, but she caught herself when she glanced at Quinn and her kind eyes.
Angelique was exhausted, defeated, and desperate. But she could keep up her smile for a few minutes more, and when the king found her, she could look in on his menagerie of daughters—if only for the sake of the first person who had offered her help in a long time.
Chapter 2
After Quinn gave Angelique the name of her band—the small, tight-knit units all Farset soldiers were organized into—and her commanding officer, the two parted ways.
Quinn rode off on her horse (after about five minutes of reassurances that Angelique didn’t need an escort anywhere), and Angelique left the dirt road and trundled through the woods.
The trees hadn’t shed all their leaves yet; many were still puffed with vibrant crimson and bold yellow leaves. But Angelique barely noticed them as she doggedly marched on, picking her way through underbrush until she almost rammed into the magical border that marked off Alabaster Forest from human-owned territory.
Elf magic felt different from the magic of humans. It had a tangy, powerful feel to it that made it recognizable as Angelique toed the border.
She squinted, wrinkling her nose as she peered into the elf-owned woods and looked for any sign of life. “King Themerysaldi!”
Silence.
“Lady Alastryn?”
Still nothing.
Angelique grunted. “Not that I expected something. How many times have I hollered myself hoarse at this border?”
She started walking parallel with the border and picked her way around fallen logs and leaf-less bushes, stopping occasionally to holler over the border.
An hour passed, and she saw no one.
Are they deaf, or does the curse bar them from even approaching the boundaries of their lands? Angelique moodily folded her arms over her chest as she eyed the border.
She sighed and slumped against a tree. Do I keep standing out here screaming like I’ve lost my mind? I don’t think Pegasus is going to come, though, if I call. Maybe I can find the tree Evariste planted his permanent gate in and take it home to Wistful Thicket.
She glanced at the sky and realized that besides the rattling sound produced by empty branches shaking in the breeze, the forest was silent.
It was a smothering silence that pulled through the forest like a thick, scratchy blanket.
Not a bird chirped, not an animal rustled, which grated at Angelique.
She mashed her lips together and flexed her hands, letting silver magic trickle through her fingers.
Angelique heard the groan of a tree trunk and the snap of wood breaking.
She swung around, already forging a shield spell, which she thrust out in front of her as the snapped trunk of a tree hurtled her way.
The trunk smashed into her opalescent shield, which crackled with hissing magic. The shield bulged awkwardly for a moment before Angelique strengthened it with so much magic, it engulfed the tree trunk, cracking it into splinters and sawdust.
An angry roar ripped through the silence of the forest.
A troll.
Angelique heard it before she saw it as it crashed its way through the underbrush, smashing trees and ripping bushes and saplings from the ground. With all the destruction it wreaked, it took only a few moments before its ugly hide was visible.
It was slightly larger than average for a troll—perhaps around nine feet tall—and had limbs as thick as tree trunks and a hide that was stiff and hard. Even at a run, the troll looked like a strange combination of rock and damp wood.
Its yellow teeth jutted out of its mouth in a massive underbite, and its nose looked like it had been smashed into its face so many times it no longer stuck out. Ropy drool dropped from its mouth as it loped closer, wildly swinging its arms to beat tree branches back.