way to Hallow Hall.
A dozen war mages stood in front of the door in organized ranks.
“Welcome back, Lord Enchanter Evariste,” the closest war mage said. His hair was lined with silver, and his smile was genuine as he looked from Evariste to Angelique. “We knew you’d find him, Lady Enchantress.”
“Thank you,” Evariste said.
The war mage motioned to two of the other mages, who got to work disarming the charms that locked the doors.
The war mages pushed the doors open, which released deep-throated groans.
Evariste smiled in thanks and stepped inside Hallowed Hall.
Angelique was just behind him, but she paused in the doorway and glanced back at the war mages.
Why do they have so many war mages posted here? Usually there aren’t more than two or three.
The war mages smiled eagerly—always happy to see her, their greatest hope for an enchantress with war magic.
Angelique uneasily returned their smiles but trotted after Evariste when she felt him linger farther ahead.
He waited for her, and together they walked shoulder-to-shoulder through the dark room.
As it had been the first time Angelique had set foot in Hallowed Hall years ago when she was a mere student, there were only two sections of the room that were lit: the raised, wooden platform where those meeting with the Council were invited to stand, and the high table where the six Council Members sat, haloed by beams of light.
The air was as chilly as Angelique remembered, and it had the buzzing feeling of repressed magical power.
The Council Members were partially cast in shadow. Their clothes glittered with expensive silks, gold and silvery thread, and even the occasional jewel.
Everything felt exactly as it had when Angelique—a scared student—was presented to the Council by an instructor intent on sealing her magic.
That is, everything was the same…except for Angelique.
She wasn’t the frightened girl the Council had intimidated. Now she no longer cared about them. Her experience in crossing the continent more times than she could remember had taught her that while the Council—and the Veneno Conclave—threatened action, in reality it was too cowardly to do more than try to keep mages in its fortified walls.
They had no power.
If they had, they would have known Evariste was trapped in Mullberg.
And the difference in her didn’t stop there. Now, years wiser, Angelique could recognize the Hall for the truth nailed into its structure—it was designed to intimidate and awe.
Funny. It used to be so frightening. Now, it seems rather unimpressive compared to the palaces I’ve seen and unintimidating after all the monsters I have slain.
She hopped up the stairs behind Evariste, hooked the wooden gate with her foot and casually pulled it shut.
She ambled up to the front of the platform and yawned openly.
“Apprentice Angelique, it has been too long,” Enchanter Crest greeted her warmly.
“Yes. Thankfully.” Angelique snorted.
“Wait, you’re still an Apprentice?” Evariste hissed.
Angelique waved his disbelief off.
“And Lord Enchanter Evariste, you have returned to the Veneno Conclave,” Enchanter Tristisim said.
“Returned?” Angelique set her hands on the wooden railing so she could lean forward and squint at the Council Member, her irritation riding higher. “You make him sound like he was out on a holiday. He was taken by black mages, and you lot failed to get him back for six years!”
Enchantress Felicienne sniffed down her nose at Angelique in disdain. “It seems these years have eroded at some of your knowledge of prudent conduct, Apprentice.” She pointedly stared at Angelique’s trousers.
Of course, this meant Angelique had no recourse but to scratch them and stand with relaxed posture. “Not at all,” Angelique said. “I merely don’t care what you think of me.”
Enchantress Felicienne blinked rapidly, and the mouse-like Enchantress Galendra gasped, placing a hand over her mouth.
Angelique glanced at Evariste, who was grinning, his humor swirling in his mismatched eyes.
Enchantress Primrose delicately cleared her throat. “Yes. Well. Thank you for answering our summons.”
Angelique furrowed her brow. “I assume the point of the summons is to welcome Lord Enchanter Evariste back.” She barely managed to hold in a snide remark about their ineptitude at searching for him—only because she wanted access to the library and similar resources to research the dodgy spell that blocked Evariste from his magic.
The Council Members exchanged glances—all except Lazare, anyway. He was sleeping, snores leaking from his open mouth.
“Yes…it is certainly a momentous occasion…” Enchanter Crest slowly said.
Enchanter Tristisim set his hands on his desk, his face hardened. “We’ve been given proof that Evariste is consorting with the black mages who’ve been running amok over the continent.”
“What?” Angelique said.
“I know