able to fully twist my magic to their purposes. Because even once separated from me, it will always have that base inability to survive in truly black magic, like the many curses the Chosen have casted. Though it doesn’t seem like that limit extends to using my gates.
“Snow White…you will fall…and Mullberg with you.”
Evariste didn’t respond to the mirror—he didn’t want to attract its attention just yet. He did, however, glance at the mirror’s surface.
Queen Faina stood there, blank faced and unmoving. Her eyes weren’t focused, and though she breathed, it almost seemed like she wasn’t conscious.
The mirror’s magic oozed around her in a thick miasma. No longer did it brush at the queen as it used to; now it actively poured into her, as if she were a doll to control.
The mirror is certainly up to something. Normally, it sends Faina out of her room every so often to throw fits in the palace. But she’s been spending most of her time in her quarters and acts alarmingly…unaware.
It was almost as if the Queen’s mind was buried, and the mirror entirely controlled her movements. She brimmed with its warped magic, so that was a possibility, unfortunately.
The spell that held one of the mirror’s two constructs that were (assumedly) attacking Snow White crumbled.
Evariste grinned and ran a hand through his blonde hair as the mirror shook with anger.
“What’s wrong?” Evariste drawled. “Still losing to a princess?”
The mirror ignored him; it seemed focused on the remaining construct.
Evariste walked in a circle, his strides lengthening the longer he moved. Though he was technically walking, he wasn’t actually going anywhere; he remained the same distance from the mirror’s surface as he always did.
Evariste glanced at Queen Faina as he circled past her and slightly shook his head.
Her…state is going to hurt Mullberg. But is there anything I can do?
Hesitantly, he tried to reach for his magic. As expected, he rammed into the wall that separated him from his powers.
Angelique’s magic zinged through him, but even as he tried to pull at it, it slipped through his fingers, seemingly more interested in huddling next to the wall that blocked his own magic.
Could this phenomenon be because of our relationship? It couldn’t be simply because we’re master and student, or something like this would have surely happened generations before. But Angelique certainly doesn’t have feelings for me. She sees me as her mentor—she made it clear that she respects me but doesn’t need or want anything from me.
Evariste rubbed the back of his neck. It is curious, though. It’s always Angelique’s magic reaching out to mine. I wonder why that could be…
The mirror roared as the second construct was destroyed.
Grinning, Evariste plopped back on the ground and prepared for the mirror to try and drag more magic from him—and unknowingly fail because of the remnant of Angelique’s powers. “What was that you said before? You’re all powerful? It certainly doesn’t seem that way.”
“Silence!”
The mirror struck, and Evariste had to hold in a scornful laugh.
It still hurt—it felt like his chest was on fire. But it was a mild discomfort compared to the agony he used to be in.
He gritted his teeth and stared at the motionless Queen Faina.
Whatever the reason for this, I’m grateful. And when this is over, I’ll do everything I can to crush the Chosen.
Chapter 25
Angelique peered out one of the open windows of the cottage. The warriors insisted on leaving the shutters open despite the windy spring air because it still smelled of the garlic Angelique had smeared on them after the battle yesterday evening (for “healing purposes”) and the onions she’d held up to their faces so their tears clogged their eyes while she mended them with real healing spells.
They hadn’t been very grateful for her tender ministrations at the time. Angelique was certain she had no idea why.
Outside, Snow White and the Seven Warriors were busy preparing for Fritz’s journey. The quiet forester had been selected to deliver a letter to the Veneno Conclave.
Despite the Conclave being in the same country, Luster Forest was a fair bit north and east of the magical fortress, so the trip would take several days.
Rupert and Oswald were fussing over Fritz’s mount—who was saddled but not yet bridled—and were double-checking that his saddle bags and tack were secure.
“You must loosen up before embarking on such a long ride, Fritz.” Aldelbert instructed. “Your hips shall certainly be sore, otherwise. Here—follow along in this Glory-Intensifying-Stretch! Place yourself in a position of honorable humility and kneel