the trees.
It was…Pegasus.
Black mist billowed around him like angry storm clouds. Blue flames engulfed his hooves and crawled up his legs, and his immense wings filled the empty circle. He screamed, and the sound filled Angelique’s head and made her cry out.
Pegasus paused and turned to Angelique. He drew his wings closer to his body, and she could feel it when he gazed at her—not just with his eyes, but with his unbearably strong magic that filled the air with such pressure it made her stomach churn.
“I’m f-fine,” she managed to squeak out.
Pegasus paused for a moment, then dropped his magic. In an instant, the darkness, his wings, the pressure of his magic, even the blue fire all faded away.
Pegasus remained standing in the clearing, studying Angelique with great intensity.
Belatedly, he made a waffling noise horses occasionally made when pleased, casually cocked his back leg, pointed his ears forward, and generally tried to look harmless. (Or as harmless as he could be with his flaming tail and mane and star-spattered body.)
It wasn’t until he swished his tail that Angelique dared to speak again. “Are you truly trying to fool me—after that display?”
Pegasus showily tossed his head and pranced a few steps. When he got to Angelique, he lowered his head and started pushily bumping her with his muzzle.
With his encouragement, Angelique scrambled to her feet. “No, I’m not injured. It was just a troll.”
Pegasus snorted.
“Yes, I said just a troll. After everything we’ve faced together, it’s an easy foe to defeat.” Angelique scoffed as she brushed leaves off her gown, then paused to rethink what she’d just said.
That’s right. I’m not really alone. Pegasus has been my near constant companion for years, now. He’s helped me when no one else has.
She stood still as Pegasus continued to conduct his examination, prodding her with his muzzle, snorting when he scented something on her that he didn’t like.
Angelique cleared her throat. “Pegasus?”
The dark-colored horse lifted his head.
“Am I forgiven?”
Pegasus sneezed in her face.
Angelique squeezed her eyes shut. “That was gross.”
Pegasus nickered wickedly.
Angelique rubbed at her cheeks, trying to clean them of horse snot. “I was thinking about what you said, and it made me wonder. Do you know where the gate Evariste made is?”
Evariste possessed a very rare and powerful sort of magic that let him create transportation gates that served as portals. When you stepped through a gate, you were instantly teleported to the other location it was grounded in.
Since Evariste was such great friends with the Elf King, he’d forged a permanent gate in a tree near the border of Alabaster Woods that opened up into his sitting room in his home, Wistful Thicket, located far south in Torrens. (The gate was more of a window, actually. But it worked in a pinch—Angelique had used it shortly after Evariste had first been captured.)
Pegasus tilted his head in thought, then gave Angelique a jerky nod. He turned so his back—bare of the usual golden tack he produced for her—was directly in front of her.
Angelique followed his unspoken command and clambered on, wincing when she accidentally kneed him in the side. “Sorry.”
Pegasus pricked his ears and waited for her to settle her colorful skirts across his back before he started walking.
“If we can find it, I think I’ll go home using the portal.” Angelique patted Pegasus’ neck and slouched unbecomingly as his large steps rocked her from side to side. “I still want to keep trying to reach the elves, so I can come back by the portal tomorrow, but I think you’re right: I just want to be home.”
Pegasus tossed his head and snorted in approval.
The constellation picked his way through the forest, and several minutes later, Angelique felt the warm, familiar sensation of Evariste’s magic.
Pegasus took her straight to the tree that held the window-sized gate hidden in its trunk and was spelled against prying eyes.
Peering through the gate—which hummed with Evariste’s magic—Angelique could see the sitting room of the Lord Enchanter’s house.
Lazy, afternoon sunlight streaked in through the windows, bathing the comfortable furniture in gold. Nothing looked disturbed, and Angelique could pick out the foreign script of magic as the defensive spells pulsed around the edge of the ceiling.
“Everything looks fine on the Torrens’ end, so I won’t need you to meet me there.” Angelique slid off Pegasus, hopping a little at the very long drop. “You can go back to the sky.”
Pegasus flared his nostrils at her.
“You’ve been with me a lot,” Angelique pointed out. “And I’ll need