as to know whether or not she’d usually be able to see him from this angle.
Shrugging, she dropped her hands in her lap and dug her fingers into the fabric of her skirt—which had turned a melancholic gray-blue.
She’d found Themerysaldi, and it seemed like the elves would soon be freed if Quinn could figure out the particulars of the curse. But now that she better understood the position the elves were in, she could see Themerysaldi would be occupied trying to establish contact with his generals and the rest of the elven warriors.
Again, the search for Evariste would be pushed back.
She could hardly fault King Themerysaldi—he had his people to think of.
Yet it felt like she’d exhausted every possibility of help for Evariste, and there was nowhere left to turn.
The Veneno Conclave had proven to be useless—it had a spy in its ranks, for Heaven’s sake—and the other countries were as preoccupied as Themerysaldi would be, at least for the time being.
I have to keep looking…but what more can I do alone? Should I go to Lovelana and offer to help find the spy? Maybe then she’d be able to find more black mages if the information leak was stopped. But…I just want Evariste back.
Angelique let her chin fall against her chest. She stared down at the cobblestone road and sighed deeply.
She felt Pegasus press his velveteen muzzle against her cheek, and she patted him, grateful for the comfort. “Thank you, Pegasus.” She paused mid-stroke and jerked her head up.
The flames of his mane and tail and the stardust spattering his coat glowed in the moonlight, making him look more ethereal than normal.
When she stared gape-mouthed at him, he flicked his tail and gave her his version of a friendly nicker—which rumbled like the shakings of the earth.
“I, I didn’t call you…did I?” Angelique bulged her eyes as she reviewed her actions for the past few minutes. “I mean, my sighing and misery might be a bit too self-focused and unhelpful, but I don’t think I was that out of it that I could have called you without realizing it.”
Pegasus delicately took one of her flyaway locks of hair in his teeth and tugged it just enough for her to feel the pressure on her scalp.
Her confusion settled down, and Angelique offered the constellation a shaky smile. “I’m sorry. I’m very happy to see you.” Daringly, she leaned closer to Pegasus and kissed him on his nose—which was as soft as velvet and held the faint whiff of sulfur.
When she straightened, she had to fight a yawn.
Pegasus made another thunderous nicker, then turned away from her and walked across the courtyard. He found a massive fern that was sprouting out of the ground at the corner of the stable and sat down directly on top of it.
He squashed it with his hulking mass, but the persistent plant still curled up around him, creating a sort of green nest. Once he was content, Pegasus shifted his attention to Angelique and flared his nostrils at her.
Angelique rushed across the courtyard and almost threw herself on the large constellation. She flung an arm over his withers and pressed her face into his neck, taking comfort in the heat he radiated.
Snuggling with Pegasus was an experience of comfort and warmth. She didn’t do it often—something in her said she shouldn’t presume to cuddle a constellation at all, but it was too nice to completely deny herself.
“Thanks, Pegasus.”
Pegasus snorted, and between the faint flickers of his mane and the steady whoosh of his breath, he seemed to fill the empty city.
Angelique’s eyes slowly drifted shut, and she relaxed as she finally drifted off to sleep.
An explosion of magic knocked Angelique from her dreamless sleep.
She snorted and poked her head up from the comfortable cradle of constellation and fern. “What? Who?”
Her thoughts rattled around her head—there’d been something familiar about that magic, but she hadn’t awakened quite fast enough to catch the full feel of it.
Pegasus lifted his head high and snorted, testing the air.
Angelique rubbed her eyes and groaned. She started to stand, reluctantly peeling herself off Pegasus, when a wave of magic shoved her to her knees.
This was a different sort of magic. It was fainter but demanding in its presence and as pure as the deepest springs of water.
This magic she recognized—not because she was intimately familiar with it, but because Themerysaldi’s magic was so unmistakable.
“It seems Quinn broke the curse.” Angelique finally managed to stand. “That didn’t take long at all.” She