“I wanted her to get through this…”
“Unscathed?” Odette suggested when Angelique trailed off.
“Yes,” Angelique agreed.
Odette patted Angelique’s side in a strange sort of side-hug. “Thank you for everything you did to help her.”
“I’m glad I could.”
“So that’s about it—as far as news goes,” Odette finished.
“Do you have to fly out immediately, or will you stay with us for a time?” Quinn asked.
She’ll obviously fly out—
“I thought I’d hang around for a day or two and see if there’s anything I can help you with.”
“Really?” Angelique couldn’t stop the word before it tumbled from her lips.
“Yes. I don’t know what I could do—except maybe infiltrate a stronghold as a swan? That might be suspicious given I don’t think swans hang around Mullberg in the winter. But I do have a few contacts here in Mullberg, and I might be able to get some information for you, Angelique.”
“I’d appreciate that. Thank you, Odette.” Angelique hesitated, wondering if she should ask if the smuggler expected to be paid for her work—and rightfully so—but Odette answered the question herself.
“Of course. I’m always grateful for a chance to repay a friend.” She said it so casually, Angelique was glad Odette rode behind her so she didn’t see the way Angelique had to blink back the sudden swell of emotion that made her mute.
We’re friends. I mean, I’ve always liked her. But I didn’t want to presume…
Odette glanced at Quinn. “And I have a sonnet King Themerysaldi wanted me to recite to you. I refuse to speak it, but I got a written copy if you want to see it.”
“It appears he has too much time on his hands if he’s concerned about writing sonnets.” Despite her words, Quinn’s smile was warm and generous.
“He also asked me to remind you that Alastryn is quite concerned about table settings? He said you’d know what that means.”
The sound of Quinn’s laughter was as crisp and lovely as the bright morning. “It means he’s getting sick of Alastryn sending him questions about our wedding banquet. He’ll be fine. It’s only a month or so until spring.”
“Just about,” Angelique agreed, her attention drifting.
I’ve got one month to search with Quinn. And then I’ll either need to go help Severin, or maybe—just maybe—I’ll be able to find Evariste…
One day turned into two, two into three, and a week passed while Odette remained with Angelique and Quinn.
During this time, the determined smuggler contacted two information brokers, but both had been unable to tell her anything about the Chosen at all.
Odette had insisted on talking to her last contact, who lived in a small village at the base of the mountains just southwest of Juwel, before finally leaving.
So, on a morning that was mercifully free of wind (though it was so cold, frost formed on Angelique’s eyelashes), Angelique and Quinn stood shoulder-to-shoulder, watching Odette converse with her contact.
He was a unique individual with a full white beard, a thick fern-green scarf he wound around his head and neck, a waterproof similar to one a ship’s captain would wear, and a distinct lack of teeth. All of this was complemented by the fact that he had insisted on carrying out the conversation in a rowboat precariously perched on top of a large rock.
Angelique had seen too much to be bothered by his preferences. She wasn’t even curious about the presence of the boat, even though they weren’t at all near to any body of water. But that wasn’t to say she wasn’t entirely untouched by the unique presentation.
How on earth is that boat balancing so perfectly on the rock? I don’t feel any magic, and the rock has a distinct pointy top to it, so it’s not like it’s just settled in place. I wonder what would happen if I tried to climb into it?
Quinn bumped Angelique’s shoulders with hers. “He seems like an interesting person.”
“Mmmhmm.”
Odette, standing at the base of the rock the row boat was perched upon, clutched the hood of her cloak as she turned around to face in their direction. “Quinn, Angel.” She made a beckoning motion.
Angelique straightened up and exchanged glances with Quinn, falling in step behind her when the soldier trudged through the shin-deep snow and made her way to the rock/boat.
Once they reached her side, Odette turned back to her informant. “Could you tell them what you just told me, Dodge?”
“Course!” Dodge fluffed his beard as he peered over the side of the boat. “Don’t know nothin’ about no mirrors,” he started, immediately shredding Angelique’s hopes. “But