Trial of Magic (The Fairy Tale Enchantress #4) - K. M. Shea Page 0,128

picked a starfire out of the snow and threw it into the trees. It landed in a little mound of snow, illuminating the hidden shadows of the trees to show nothing was there.

“They’re gone.” Marzell collapsed to his knees.

“Finally,” Gregori agreed. In the light of the starfires, his red hair seemed almost as brilliant as a fire as he patrolled the perimeter with Aldelbert.

Angelique twitched her nose—the smoke of destroyed constructs was mostly odorless, but it had a metallic tang to it that she didn’t like.

She peered at Snow White, wondering how the princess was going to handle the knowledge she’d been hunted by black magic.

To her credit, shy, book-worm Snow White took in a big gulp of air and—with her face pinched with fear—took a few steps closer to the warriors.

“You can no longer deny something dark is at work. A-Angel said those were magic constructs. That means someone with magic is involved in this—not just goblins and monsters.” Snow White’s voice was fairly strong, but she was still too quiet—the rowdy warriors wouldn’t hear her.

She needs to be the one to convince them, but I just can’t throw her out to sea like this and expect her to swim.

Plus, if Angelique was being honest, there was something warm and bright in Snow White’s eyes that reminded her of Quinn.

Angelique drifted closer to the princess and scratched her nose. “Speak louder,” she whispered to her.

Snow White sucked in a deep breath, puffing her chest up ever so slightly. “Y-You said yourself that all the skirmishes and creatures are at the border. The ‘outskirts of civilization’ you claimed.” She pointed to the forest. “We are nowhere near the border. This was a deliberate attack. Clearly, I was the t-target,” Snow White stumbled over the last bit, and Angelique could see it in her eyes that she was aware just how bad that was.

The warriors—satisfied with their patrols—meandered back to the cottage, silent and listening.

“You also said the country is in a worse state than I knew,” Snow White continued. “You were correct, obviously. But after this, I-I think it’s safe to say it’s also worse than you knew, for you have not seen the Queen and the pain she has borne while the rest of us were stupidly oblivious.” Hotly, with a passion that drove her to face the seven hulking warriors down, she added, “And Faina is not mad! If you still claim that is so, you are not the Seven Warriors you profess to be but are the seven idiots my ministers think you are!”

Oswald snorted. “So, Princess Snow White does have claws.”

“Just because she doesn’t mouth off like you does not mean she lacks the gumption necessary to be a leader.” Rupert inspected his wrist wound, which was shedding droplets of blood.

Wendal glanced over at them as he retrieved some of his daggers from the snow. “No, but her inability to speak her mind was not encouraging.”

Ahh, yes, she’s got them now, Angelique chortled to herself.

Gregori thoughtfully proved her point when he spoke. “The Princess is right. This is the first clear sign we have that all of this is on purpose. Monsters and creatures could be written off as the state of the continent. A magical attack is a sign of more.” He narrowed his eyes and brushed the fletching of his crossbow bolts.

Fritz lurked near Snow White. “Agreed.”

Rupert peered up at the forester, his skin extra pale in the light of the starfires. “You agree with her, Fritz?”

Fritz nodded.

Gregori snorted and kicked a bit of snow. “Of course, he does—he figured out she was right before any of you retired to the loft for the night.”

Oswald swiveled in his direction and scowled. “How do you know these things?”

“I’m a merchant.”

“Yeah, a merchant. Not a shady information-broker!”

Gregori critically studied the cottage’s doorless doorway. “They are rather similar.”

Aldelbert, surprisingly, turned to Fritz. “How did you know, my friend?”

Fritz paused, and for several very long moments all the warriors were silent as they waited for his answer. “Gut feeling.”

“You!” Oswald stomped a foot, scattering slush everywhere. “There was a whole story behind it, but you just shortened it because you’re too lazy to tell it!”

“It’s long.”

Oswald rested the flat of his sword on his shoulder. “Doesn’t matter—cough it up.”

“Don’t bother if you don’t wish to, Fritz,” Rupert said. “Whatever the reason was that convinced you, Oswald is obviously too much of a dunce to catch it, or he would have believed Her Highness as well.”

Predictably, Oswald scoffed at