When I was first captured, I regretted the thought that I might die. But now…it would be a relief.
The thought felt almost like a betrayal to those he knew were searching for him—surely Angelique, Clovicus, and the Veneno Conclave.
But Evariste had held out for so long. Pain had been his entire world for what felt like years. Couldn’t he stop fighting, finally?
I don’t think it will matter much longer. I can’t hold out any longer. I can’t even try to hold back my magic—I’m too weak. Soon, it will be over.
Evariste’s breathing hitched when one of his fingers twitched, sending a new deluge of pain through him.
Angelique, I’m sorry. I can’t fight it anymore.
Chapter 17
“Are you certain I can cut your hair?” Elle asked for surely the fifth time.
“Yes! How many times must I tell you before you believe me?” Angelique asked.
“But it’s your hair. And I’m purposely cutting it to make you look scruffy,” Elle said. “I mean, I’m fine making myself look like a ragamuffin, but it seems like such a shame to ruin you.” Elle ran a hand through the long, glossy locks and puffed out her cheeks.
“I can use an illusion to make it look however I want when all of this is over,” Angelique said. “But I can’t risk running an illusion when I’m in disguise as an herb wizard’s apprentice—that’s too advanced of magic for what is basically a glorified healer.”
That had been Elle’s idea: to make Angelique one of the least-skilled sort of magic users there was.
Given that herb wizards used very little magic—mostly they were skilled at collecting herbs and specializing in their various uses and had only the tiniest brush of magic that might help them create healing droughts or herb charms to make a cottage smell fresh—Angelique couldn’t afford to let her powers through.
It also gave her an excellent excuse as to why she couldn’t use her powers—and possibly give herself away with the uniqueness of her magic. As an apprentice, she wouldn’t be allowed to use much magic yet—too many possibilities to accidentally create a poison or something dangerous.
“Very well. I apologize for this.” Elle clutched the delicate silver scissors she’d procured from her bag.
“I certainly don’t mind,” Angelique said. “I’ll need every bit of help I can get to make this convincing because I don’t know a thing about herbs.”
Elle rolled her eyes. “Very well, since you are unsympathetic to this crime, I apologize directly to your hair!” She pursed her lips so tightly her mouth screwed up, and then snipped a lock of Angelique’s long hair, cutting it so it fell roughly to her shoulders in a curly wave.
Elle purposely hacked at Angelique’s hair, cutting the locks at slightly different lengths to give her an untidy appearance. She ruffled it as she went, and soon Angelique’s dark hair was disheveled, significantly muting the sharper planes of her cheekbones and nose.
Angelique glanced down at her new costume: a blue tunic that was so large on her, it fell almost to her knees.
(“It gives the appearance that you’re shorter than you really are,” Elle had claimed.)
The blue of the tunic was gray enough that it almost made Angelique’s eyes look closer to gray than silver. At the very least, the color helped muffle the unnaturalness of Angelique’s eyes—her “position” as an herb wizard’s apprentice would provide the cover for her magic, but as not many mages had silver eyes, the color needed to be downplayed as much as possible.
Three belts—all three leather, and all three battered as Elle had recruited some of the elves to smack them with their swords to age the belts—wrapped around Angelique’s waist. She fiddled with her plain cloak, twitching it so it covered more of her knees so she didn’t shiver in the cold while Elle continued hacking at her hair.
To complete her disguise, she had a pair of boots—also too large for her and with a low heel, to keep her height down as much as possible.
Elle had spent almost all morning putting the ensemble together as she dug through saddle bags after their ride to Luster Forest.
Rather than camp out in the field—for everyone to see—or travel to Hurra and practically announce to everyone within a day’s ride that there were elves in Mullberg, the party had elected to ride to Luster Forest.
The forest sat between Hurra and Juwel (though slightly to the east) and sprawled over acres and acres of land, making it an ideal spot to hide tree-happy elves until they left.
“Thank you—for your help in all of this,” Angelique said. “I couldn’t have created such a convincing cover on my own.”
Elle brushed hair off Angelique’s shoulders. “I’m glad my hobbies have come in handy.” She ignored Angelique’s snort of disbelief and circled around in front of her. “But are you really going to be fine on your own?”
“Yes,” Angelique said with a sureness she felt in her bones. “This is within my abilities.”
Elle snipped another lock of Angelique’s hair. “I could ask Lucien to send some rangers when I return to Loire,” she offered.
Angelique shook her head. “Thank you, but it’s not yet necessary. Once I find out more information—hopefully where they are keeping Evariste, or at least narrow it down to the city block they’ve got him in—I will reach out with the magic mirror and ask for help. I’ll better know what I’m facing then and whether rangers, elves, or mages will be the most appropriate back up.”
“I understand.” Elle set her hands on Angelique’s shoulders and squeezed them. “But be careful. And don’t hesitate to ask for backup—please.”
Angelique laughed. “You have nothing to worry about. I am too vested in the outcome of this venture. I’m not going to do anything to jeopardize it.”
Elle pressed her lips together, then nodded and backed up. “I believe you. Be careful.” She blinked, and her serious expression was swapped for a bright grin. “And I believe you are ready—Angel, the herb wizard’s apprentice!”
Angelique stood and brushed her clothes off before eagerly settling her cloak on her shoulders. It was late in the afternoon, but even though spring poked through the snow here and there, the evenings were still icy. “Thank you. Let’s show Quinn your handywork. I expect Emerys will have a commentary, too, however unwelcome it may be.” Angelique pointed herself in the direction of the mounts—the elves’ horses in their bright tack were more visible than the elves in the dense forest.
“Wait, your bag!” Elle swiped up Angelique’s enchanted satchel and passed it over to Angelique.
While Angelique had changed clothes, Elle had bullied several of the elves into finding herbs in both the wild and among their supplies.
Because apparently the elves were so enthusiastic about plant life they traveled with fresh herbs.
In winter!
Angelique shook her head as she studied the foreign sprigs of herbs that hung from her satchel, secured by bits of string. Elves. “Thank you.”
“And here’s this.” Elle passed over a gold coin. “Stil made it for you. It should make your features a little less pronounced—it’ll plump up your cheeks, make your face a little more heart-shaped, that sort of thing. He said you have to keep it on you, though. There’s an inner pocket of your tunic you can store it in.”