“Consider it done. And your question?”
“Do you think it’s likely that the black mage doing this is siphoning Evariste’s magic from him, and that he’s nearby?” Angelique asked.
Clovicus’ good humor fell away, and he rubbed his eyes with a weariness Angelique felt. “It’s difficult to say. You said yourself you still don’t know for certain if he is in Juwel. Without any evidence, we could suppose all we want. But whether he’s being used or not, I don’t know that it will make a difference in what you need to do.”
Angelique sighed. “You’re right. I’m just being impatient.”
“Understandably so,” Clovicus said, his voice soothing. “You want him back—we all want him back.”
“Yes. But I can’t let my hope make me act rashly.” Angelique leaned forward, resting on Pegasus’ shoulders so his withers uncomfortably poked her stomach. She got some of his flaming mane in her face, which made her sputter and push it out of the way with a glare.
“Gaping gawpfish—you’re riding Pegasus right now, aren’t you?” Clovicus asked.
Angelique blinked, surprised by his surprise. “Yes?”
“I take it all back. You’re worse than Evariste! At least he had the self-respect to own up to his trouble! But you go ahead and charm a constellation so it carries you around like a cart pony, and you don’t even question it! You naïve enchantress!”
Angelique sat up. “But Pegasus doesn’t mind.”
“That’s what makes it even more concerning!” Clovicus shouted through the mirror. “You’re going to give me indigestion. I vow it! Between you and those horrible students I am plagued with, I am going to die young. I lost years teaching Evariste and now I have to deal with your unmatched powers of obliviousness!”
“How can I give you indigestion when you’ve not been eating, but sleeping?” Angelique said.
“Ugh. It’s too late for me to deal with your impudence. Goodnight, Angelique.”
Angelique grinned archly. “Goodnight, Clovicus. Pegasus says goodnight, too.”
“You!” Clovicus made some more sputtered sounds of irritation, then cut off the connection to the mirror.
Angelique cackled as she opened her satchel and dropped the mirror inside, then slipped from Pegasus’ back. “Thank you for the help, my friend. I am thankful that you never fail to answer my call.” She circled around to his head and scratched his forehead for him.
Pegasus delicately took the collar of her cloak in his teeth and chewed it for a moment.
Angelique ran her hand down his neck and smiled. “I expect I won’t be able to call you for a while, sadly.”
Pegasus spat out her cloak collar and tossed his head.
“I’ll steal outside to talk to the sky when I can,” Angelique said.
Truthfully, I don’t know if he can hear me when I talk to him like that, but he hears me whenever I call his name, so maybe?
Angelique studied the magical equine, looking for some indication that her promise made a difference.
Pegasus did nothing—he didn’t even move a muscle—but a galaxy swirled on his coat.
Hmm. It’s not a denial!
Angelique leaned into his neck. “I’ll miss you, but enjoy your time at home. And thank you…for everything.”
Pegasus snorted his hot breath into her ear, and her nose twitched at the faint, almost sulfur scent he exhaled.
Before she could rethink the impulse, Angelique kissed Pegasus on his soft, velveteen muzzle, then hurried through the trees and popped into the cleared area around the warriors’ cottage.
When she peered back over her shoulder, she could see the faint blue light of Pegasus’ mane and tail through the trees. She waved, then headed back to the cottage.
Clovicus is right—it is unbelievable how often I run into troubled royalty. But this time is so much better because I’m not lonely. I have friends I can count on.
Angelique hitched the strap of her satchel farther up her shoulder as she watched the Seven Warriors bustle around their horses, preparing for the day’s journey.
The day after the constructs’ attack had been filled with enough meetings and discussion that Angelique suspected even Prince Severin would have found it bothersome.
In the end, Snow White had been able to convince the Seven Warriors that—obviously—there was some kind of dark magic controlling Faina. In return, the warriors had pointed out that when Faina sent Snow White off to her grandfather, that obviously had not been part of the black mage’s—or whoever was controlling her—plan.
They’d sent Oswald and Wendal to Glitzern palace to spy on the area and see if anything had changed, while Angelique did her best to innocently suggest—she had to appear to be a humble herb wizard’s apprentice, after all, and not an enchantress-in-training who would be in the know—that perhaps the Chosen were behind the spell on Faina.
It was then that Angelique discovered Snow White had not known the Summit had taken place until recently—she hadn’t even been informed of the invitation when Severin had sent it nearly one year prior.
Which makes one wonder…does Mullberg merely appear to be the country least bothered by the Chosen—Zancara withstanding—or have the Chosen been attempting to get control of Faina for years?
Angelique pressed her lips into a thin line and narrowed her eyes in thought.
“Angel? Is something wrong?”
Angelique slapped on a happier expression. “What could possibly—wow.” Angelique cut herself off and blinked at Snow White in her disguise that was both deviously smart but potentially illness-inducing if her stepmother or grandfather ever saw her in it.
Snow White wore a brown, smock-like dress that bulged very convincingly at the belly, giving her the distinct shape of a pregnant woman.
Snow White rested her arms on top of her belly. “Do you think it’s convincing? It’s only a pillow, but I tried to shape it correctly.”
“You did quite well,” Angelique assured her. “With this, our group disguise will be flawless.”
Despite her words, privately, Angelique wasn’t as certain. They were supposed to be traveling with the Seven Warriors disguised as jewel miners—Snow White taking the role of a pregnant woman, which also explained Angelique’s presence as an herb wizard’s apprentice.
But while Snow White’s belly was convincing, Snow White’s bearings were a tad too regal for her to be a convincing peasant, and the Seven Warriors prowled around with too much trained grace to be nondescript jewel miners.
But I can hardly point fingers as I have found my disguise as an herb wizard’s apprentice is barely functional. It’s astounding Snow White—as sharp as she is—hasn’t ousted me already.
Angelique squinted as she watched the warriors.
Oswald and Rupert were—predictably—arguing as they saddled their horses. Fritz, however, was securing the halter of a tame gelding and tethering him to an already saddled horse.
“Who are you pretending to be married to?” Angelique asked.
Snow White blushed a very fetching pink. “F-Fritz.”
The blush almost pulled a blank stare out of Angelique. It was too close to a reaction someone—dare Angelique think it—in love would give.