It was a little like wrestling with a waterfall. Briefly, her magic gushed and churned against her will. But when she pulled hard, it slowly stopped.
It’s always so eager to be used.
As soon as she stabilized her magic so she could actually feel just how far she’d spread it, Angelique muttered an oath.
“A problem?” Quinn asked.
“A little—just an issue with my control.” Angelique cut off her magic, which collapsed, disconnecting her conscious from the sharp-edged weapons it had encircled.
“Did you go farther than you meant to?” Odette insightfully asked.
“Unfortunately. My magic reached about halfway up the mountain.” Angelique turned awkwardly around so she could scowl at the immense edifice—as if it was the mountain’s fault her magic was dangerously eager to be used.
“Do you feel at all ill?” Quinn asked.
“No.” Angelique blinked in surprise and faced forward again as Pegasus reached the bottom of the foothill and started to pick his way across a snow-covered hay field. “I feel fine.”
“It seems that as you become more familiar with your magic, you don’t trigger your price as often,” Quinn said.
Angelique was silent for several of Pegasus’ sharp steps.
Maybe? Is it because I’m growing more familiar with my magic or because I’ve been working on handling larger amounts of it?
“I agree,” Angelique slowly said.
“I think so, too,” Odette said. “And that’s just from what I’ve seen. I thought you said taking care of the wyvern put you out for a while, right? You’ve barely gotten queasy during your practice sessions.”
“Apprentice Angelique?”
Angelique swiveled her head so fast to see who was approaching them, she nearly slipped off Pegasus’ side.
Two riders on shaggy mountain ponies approached from the north. Although both were bundled up, one shape looked more masculine—broader through the shoulders—and the other figure was far slighter.
It wasn’t until the man pushed his knitted cap up high enough to reveal blue eyebrows that Angelique recognized him as Rein—which meant the other rider had to be his partner, Blanche.
Blanche and Rein were master weather mages who were frequently sent out on missions together. Angelique had run into them before. They had come with the war mages the Veneno Conclave had sent to capture Carabosso.
Pegasus must have known the pair was nearby. Unlike Angelique, he hadn’t startled, nor did he stop even as the mages directed their ponies in their direction.
“Master weather mages Rein—and Blanche, I assume?” Angelique tugged on Pegasus’ reins, bringing him to a reluctant halt.
Blanche loosened the red scarf so she could push it down her neck and speak. “Apprentice Angelique.” She wore a bright red cloak with embroidered storm clouds and drops of rain stitched around the lapels, and she clutched a fur muff with a trembling hand.
Angelique forced a smile as she studied the pair. Just how sociable do I need to pretend to be? Should I introduce Quinn and Odette? I don’t really want to—I don’t care much for them. Nor them for me.
The pair was rather scared of her. They’d made it clear before that they didn’t want her help, and they especially didn’t want to travel with her because they feared her magic.
But today, Rein was puffed up like an angry hedgehog while Blanche practically quivered in the saddle.
I wonder what has them so frightened?
Concluding she needed to act with at least minimum social niceties, Angelique opened her mouth to introduce the pair, when Rein spared her the trouble.
“You were using your core magic!” He shot Angelique a look—as if he had found her fraternizing with a Chosen mage instead of using magic…as a mage.
Oh, bother. Of course, they felt it when I was practicing my drills.
“Indeed I was,” Angelique said. “Did you need something?”
“Do we need something?” Rein repeated, anger crusting his voice. “Are you mad? You were using your magic!”
“Yes,” Angelique said with a patience she didn’t feel. “You have already said that. And?”
Rein made a few choking noises. “The Council ordered you to refrain from using your core magic!”
Angelique frowned and felt her thin veneer of good manners start to wear thin. “Why does that surprise you? Much of what I’ve done has been against the approval of the Council.”
“Your magic is dangerous.” Blanche’s voice shook, and she shrank in her saddle. “You are dangerous! You can’t just go around using it without supervision.”
Quinn narrowed her eyes, and it took several seconds for Angelique to realize the quiet hissing noise from behind her was actually Odette.
Thankful for her friends’ reactions, Angelique was also so dumbfounded by Blanche’s statement, all she could do was stare at the weather mages.
Once upon a time, such comments would have deeply hurt me. Not anymore. The Veneno Conclave—mages in general—have done nothing to help the continent. They have no right to look down upon me like this, and just because they choose to do it doesn’t mean I have to let it affect me.
“Perhaps,” Angelique said, keeping her voice the calm and bright tone she usually used when talking to frightened mages. “Or perhaps you both need to practice, seeing as how you let the only Chosen Mage we’ve ever captured—Carabosso—escape when you were charged with taking him back to the Veneno Conclave.”
“You cannot possibly judge us,” Blanche said.
Angelique pushed back the hood of her cloak so she could casually scratch her head. “Why not? You seem perfectly fine with criticizing me—and I’m not the one who lost our only lead.”
“How dare you,” Rein snarled. “I thought that for all the darkness of your magic, you were still a respectful person. It seems I was wrong. Your magic is so vile because you are vile! We shall report your conduct to the Veneno Conclave.”
Yes. Angelique flicked her eyes from the angry mages to Quinn and Odette. Perhaps that is the greatest change. Quinn, Odette, Elle, Gabrielle—they’ve made it perfectly clear that they appreciate and like me. They don’t care if I’m sarcastic or don’t act like the perfect, genteel enchantress. I’m done with this farce, and after all of the chaos of the past few years, I know the Conclave isn’t going to do anything to reprimand me anyway.
“Oh, dear.” Angelique slapped a hand to her cheek and spoke in the deadest of tones she could muster. “Whatever will I do?”
Rein leaned back in his saddle and glanced at Blanche. The way he hunched his shoulders spoke just how uncomfortable he felt—which Angelique took more than a little glee in.
Blanche, however, was gawking at Angelique. Not like one who was frightened, more as a person who’d just received a great shock. “You…what?” She shook her head as if she couldn’t understand. “You’ve changed.”
“I do feel freer,” Angelique said. “Thank you for noticing.”
“That wasn’t a compliment,” Blanche snapped.
Angelique clicked her tongue. “Now that hurt my feelings,” she said in a tone so sorrowful it was an obvious farce.