Trial of Magic (The Fairy Tale Enchantress #4) - K. M. Shea Page 0,130

and retrieve bandages and wraps for you.”

Feeling the need to cover for herself in advance, Angelique cleared her throat. “I need to repeat: I don’t know very much.”

“Nonsense,” Aldelbert said. “Your satchel is draped with herbs. Surely you must know enough if you practice such a custom as that.”

ELLE! Why did you make me take those?! This is officially the worst cover I’ve ever taken—and that includes the time those sisters in Baris nearly made my bladder explode when Evariste was teaching me how to grant boons!

“Yes. Yes, I do carry herbs around because I know how to use them. What I meant is that I always frustrated my master because I was so bad at it. Really, as a forester, I imagine Fritz might be better at dressing wounds,” Angelique tried to look pitiful.

“Angel,” Snow White said. “You don’t need to apologize. Oswald and Rupert will be thankful for whatever you can do.” Snow White smiled, her warmth shining through before she glanced worriedly at the warriors.

Angel pressed her lips into a thin line. Oh, now that’s just mean—breaking out empathy with such kind eyes? Unfair! “Uh-huh.”

Marzell passed by and paused just long enough to touch her on the shoulder. “Thank you—from all of us.”

“Yeah, sure,” Angelique glanced at the injured men, and her conscience finally prickled. Neither Oswald nor Rupert was looking particularly well.

They probably do need a healing spell. How can I stick one on them without anyone noticing—including them?

Marzell was watching her expectantly, so Angelique reluctantly fussed with her bespelled satchel and pulled off (at random) an herb with thin, flat leaves.

The Seven Warriors had herbs hanging from the rafters, so Angelique randomly selected one and yanked it off the string it hung from.

Marzell hustled upstairs; Fritz began to work on the door, and Snow White found a broom and started sweeping slushy snow out of the cottage.

Now’s the time to do something—while they’re all occupied.

“Go over to the benches by the table and lie flat,” Angelique instructed the injured pair.

Oswald and Rupert slumped their way over to the benches with enough lethargy to alarm Angelique.

Yes, they require a slow-burn healing spell. I’ll just have to disguise it—or maybe obscure their vision.

Angelique, not quite certain what she was doing, yanked the needle-like leaves off the herb she’d taken from her satchel.

With Rupert watching her, she took the time to rub the leaves together—filling the cottage with their fragrant scent—and made a few hand gestures at the herbs.

I was an idiot for agreeing to this cover. I’ve only seen an herb wizard the one time one came to speak to my class when I was a first-year student! And how long ago was that?

She glanced over at Oswald, who was holding his arm at an odd angle so he didn’t drip blood on the floor.

Longer than they’ve been alive, that much is for certain. She barely managed to smother a shiver. And now I feel ancient—but I should be able to fool a couple of mere children!

“What are you doing?” Rupert—one of the “mere children” asked.

“Magic,” Angelique said.

A frown puckered at the corners of Rupert’s mouth. “Are you certain?”

Some unfortunately smart, mere children.

“Who is the herb wizard’s apprentice? Me. Unless you gained instruction somewhere between the fireplace and this bench, shut your pie hole.” She picked up the herb she’d retrieved from the rafters, pulled a trickle of her magic, and then started smacking Rupert in the face with it. The assault of the herb’s tiny, fringe-like leaves achieved the desired affect and made him squeeze his eyes shut.

“Is this necessary?” he grumbled.

“Absolutely!”

A dusting of Angelique’s silver magic pooled at her fingertips as she hastily picked up more of the thin leaves from her satchel-herb and rubbed them on Rupert’s wrist.

It’s a good thing I’ve gotten so much practice at placing healing spells on myself.

Angelique rubbed Rupert’s wrist with the satchel herb, smacked him in the face with the rafter herb with a little more enthusiasm than necessary, and whispered under her breath as she twined the healing spell around his wrist.

She tried to appear relaxed and casual, but in reality, she was watching his wrist with the eye of an eagle, making sure she covered every silvery thread of her magic so it wouldn’t be visible to anyone that happened to glance over.

Marzell jumped off the stairs two steps early, cradling a few rolled-up bandages in his arms. “That is a very interesting treatment, Angel.”

Why is it that for the first time ever, everyone feels the