Evariste released a bark of laughter and shook his head as the insides of the mirror turned a dark, dangerous red that pulsed with power.
The mirror’s dark, endlessly hungry magic turned on Evariste, yanking at his magic.
Pain wracked his body for a single moment before it was cut back by an achingly cold and familiar magic.
Angelique?
Evariste snapped his head up and looked around the mirror, but her spell was gone. There was nothing outside the mirror’s surface.
What, then…?
He felt her magic again. This time, it leaned against the barrier that blocked off his magic, testing it with a sharpness that took his breath away.
What’s happening? I know spells, and that was absolutely a tracking spell. How is her magic still here, and what is it doing?
Angelique’s magic was unable to breech the wall of the curse placed upon him. But when the mirror reached for him, the little magic that had snuck inside flashed like a sword, cutting off part of the mirror’s pull.
“You still resist, enchanter?” the mirror seethed, seemingly unaware of Angelique’s magic. “Very well.”
The mirror pumped its warped magic through him, knifing him in the gut.
By reflex, Evariste reached for his magic and rammed into the wall that separated him from it…and then felt Angelique’s cold powers spark at his fingertips.
What—I shouldn’t be able to use another mage’s magic. How is this possible?
He couldn’t use it per se. When he reached for it, he couldn’t mold it to his will as he could—or rather used to—with his own magic. But it was still there, holding its ground.
But Angelique had dismantled the spell. He had sensed that. Why on earth was even this small—but deadly—flicker of her magic hanging around?
The mirror didn’t seem to notice, not even as Angelique’s magic continued to hold back a part of Evariste’s powers, giving up far less magic and causing a great deal less pain even as it ripped on his soul.
What does this mean?
Evariste stayed flat on the ground, half afraid to catch the mirror’s attention lest it realize what was going on.
But for the first time since he’d entered the mirror—no, the first time since Liliane had cursed him—Evariste felt a flicker of power.
I’m not going to give up. But how, then, can I best capitalize on this unexpected twist?
Chapter 23
Two nights later, Angelique stared at the enchanted paper Rumpelstiltskin had given her, going over the message she had written.
It described what she’d felt when her tracking spell had connected with the mage that held Evariste hostage, as well as the confirmation that Evariste was indeed in Juwel—in Glitzern Palace, specifically.
It’s shocking to know where Evariste is. I almost feel as though the world has suddenly flipped, and what’s up is down and what’s down is up. But in reality, much hasn’t changed. Quinn and I had long suspected he was in Juwel, and after learning about Queen Faina, I was almost positive whatever mage was attacking her had Evariste in their thrall as well.
But to know, without a doubt!
Angelique gripped her borrowed feather quill with enough force to smash the tip of the writing instrument. She had to consciously relax her grip and glance around the cottage to see if anyone had witnessed it.
The trip to meet with the Mullberg lords had been successful, and despite a close call with some soldiers, Angelique, Snow White, and the Seven Warriors hadn’t been found out.
After a day filled with weapon practice—that was the Seven Warriors—and endless exchanges of correspondences—Snow White sending out letters to the lords and the like—the group had settled down for a surprisingly quiet evening.
Fritz and Snow White sat side-by-side on a bench. Fritz sharpened some of Wendal’s throwing daggers as he and the princess sat in comfortable silence. Gregori—the giant-like warrior—was sleeping in a chair nearby, while Lord Aldelbert and Wendal were reenacting some adventures the two had gone on in Aldelbert’s youth.
Given that the young lord had to barely be twenty, Angelique didn’t know what exactly counted as his “youth,” but despite his boastful personality, he’d had more than a few amusing stories—including one that involved three goblins and a particularly persnickety goat that took offense to the goblins’ loincloths.
Oswald and Rupert were seated at the table. Considering how much they argued and insulted each other, it seemed the duo was rarely apart. At the moment, they were playing “Gluckshaus” with Marzell. They insisted it was a traditional Mullberg game, but with the random shouts of “You rolled a two, lucky pig!” and “It’s the wedding, pay up!”, Angelique was not convinced they hadn’t come up with the odd game themselves.
Angelique smoothed the edges of her stationary—which was spelled so once she folded it and sealed it, the paper would self-deliver—in this case to Stil.
Stil hadn’t enchanted the paper. One of his colleagues who was particularly talented at enchanting paper products and was conveniently staying at Chanceux Chateau had, instead.
I don’t think I need to add anything else—oh, except that he should pass this information on to Lord Enchanter Clovicus since I don’t know when I’ll be able to slip off and use my mirror again.
Angelique stuck her tongue out of her mouth as she added the instruction at the bottom of the page.
Rupert glanced in her direction. “How goes your notation on Mullberg herbs, Angel?”
Angelique slapped on a smile. Rupert had become all too interested in her supposed herb magic ever since she’d healed him after the construct attack, and his wound had disappeared much faster thanks to her “herbs.”
“Wonderful,” Angelique said. “I hope my master will be pleased with my observations when I find him again.”
Rupert nodded, then took the dice Oswald set in front of him and rolled. “Twelve—that’s a king.” He swept all the coins off the board they played on and added them to his personal pile as Oswald groaned.
“You’re cheating,” Oswald said.
“How could I? We’re using the same dice,” Rupert pointed out.
Angelique glanced down at her letter again. Finding nothing more to add, she began to fold it.
Despite how huge it feels to know Evariste is in Glitzern, I haven’t discovered much that we didn’t already suspect.
Angelique couldn’t even conclude that the mage needed Evariste to fully impact Queen Faina. According to Snow White, the Queen had already started having outbursts before Evariste arrived based on the Chosen logbooks that vaguely noted his progress through the country.
Instead, all this knowledge does is make me that much more eager to march on the city—but I can’t very well be a one-woman army, particularly when I’m facing a black mage secreted in a city full of innocents.
Angelique’s fingers shook with impatience as she kept folding the letter.
She hoped she’d be able to contact Stil by mirror before the message finally arrived, but the missive was her back-up plan in case all of the boring politicking grew larger, and she couldn’t send a message out.
Her heart throbbed so strongly, it ached in her chest. She was close to saving Evariste. Finally, she might be able to free him after roughly six years!