items outside the palace, but immediately, her guts started churning.
Her stomach rebelled, and Angelique crashed to her knees, retching once again. Her entire body rocked as she was sick, and she clung to the roof for support.
Between bouts of sickness, she looked up to see the mages flee farther and farther away.
I’ll never catch up with them, not when I’m this weak!
Angelique did an encore performance of her swearing abilities and attempted to stifle a sob.
She tried to stand, but her legs were shaky and refused to hold her.
Despite the cool outdoor temperatures, she was hot, and the taste in her mouth only further upset her queasy stomach.
Evariste hopped through the window and ran the few steps necessary to reach her, crouching next to her.
“They got away,” Angelique said. “I couldn’t stop them.”
“Angel, you just expelled a huge amount of magic in rescuing me. It’s not your fault.” He picked something out of her hair—glass, she thought.
Angelique groaned. “It doesn’t matter. That was the mirror the Chosen wanted! That’s the mirror the Snow Queen buried.”
Snow White poked her head out of the broken window, but at Angelique’s words, she ducked back inside. “Lord Vitkovci!” she shouted. “Send your soldiers after those men! I want Juwel closed and all guards to search for those intruders,” her voice trailed off as she walked away from the window.
“They won’t catch them,” Angelique miserably predicted. “That stone mage can open up Juwel’s wall for them.”
“They probably won’t get them,” Evariste agreed. “But Queen Faina is free of the mirror’s influence. You ruined their plans. And there’s a lot we need to talk about.”
Angelique was too sick to protest as she leaned into Evariste, closing her eyes even though they were sitting on a rooftop.
She was a muddling mixture of sickness from her price and emotions. She was elated—she’d freed Evariste! But the Chosen still had their mirror, and there was no telling just how much damage they could do with it.
“It is absolutely vital that you simultaneously send troops to both hideouts. If they haven’t been cleared out already, the first location you march on will notify the second.” Angelique juggled the rough, wooden bucket she’d been given as she scowled at the four guard captains she’d commandeered. “Do you understand?”
“Indeed, mage.” The guard’s eyebrows went up as he squinted at her—likely trying to figure out her position in society. “We shall split our forces and investigate the two hideouts of these Chosen folk outside the city and be prepared for a fight with black mages.”
Angelique convulsively tightened her grip on her bucket. “Maybe I should go with you after all.”
“That’s not necessary…lady?” A second guard captain said—his voice going up at his guess of her station. “You did say you were almost certain both locations would be cleared out.”
“Yes, but maybe they left traps behind,” Angelique said.
The first captain flipped back through the notes he’d taken. “You already ordered us to apprehend any criminals and place a watch on the place, but you also specifically informed us we were not to touch anything.”
“Yes, but any number of things could be waiting there for you.” Angelique scowled down at her bucket, then glanced at Evariste.
I’d already be on my way to investigate the hideouts, but I’m loathe to leave Evariste, and taking him back to dens used by black mages—even if they’ve already fled as I imagine they have—is begging for trouble.
Evariste smiled at her. “They’ll only be outside the city, Angel. If something happens, I imagine you’ll feel it.”
“I guess,” Angelique said.
“You were only just released from medical attention,” Evariste pointed out. “If it is discovered you go haring after the black mages, however unlikely it is that they remain there, Berhta will insist you receive her…gentle…ministrations again.”
Angelique hunched her shoulders at the reminder of Berhta.
Since she’d used a great deal of her magic in such quick succession, Angelique’s price had hit her harder than it had in recent memory. Snow White had insisted Berhta (one of Glitzern Palace’s formidable medical attendants) see to Angelique.
Berhta was built similar to a bear, but with even more muscle to her. After wrestling Angelique into bed, she’d poured no less than five foul-smelling concoctions down her throat, even though Angelique had emphatically told her it would do no good.
Berhta was also the giver of the bucket—which was the only reason why Angelique was carrying it around, even though an hour had passed since she last retched, and the last dreg of her price that still bothered