Trial of Magic (The Fairy Tale Enchantress #4) - K. M. Shea Page 0,160

the yard.

She felt nothing.

Angelique cocked her head as her magic drifted around, but besides that one tiny moment, there was nothing. Even after she pushed her senses farther and farther, she still felt nothing.

But I barely felt that second attack of constructs, so that doesn’t mean anything.

Angelique leaned on her pitchfork and listened. She could faintly hear the warriors talk to one another—their voices distant murmurs—and the cheerful chirps of all the songbirds that had returned to Luster with the exit of winter. But there was nothing else.

I could have sworn, though, that moment of magic almost felt like Evariste’s…

She rubbed her forehead as a horse came to investigate her hands for treats. Angelique patted the animal, then climbed the fence, standing on it to give her a better view of the yard—though she couldn’t see the front of the cottage. There was no sparkle of magic, no telltale shine or thrum of power.

I’m just being delusional because I miss him.

Shaking her head, Angelique hopped off the fence and got back to work.

Still feeling jumpy from the sensation, Angelique barely cleared a corner of the paddock before she stopped and peered at the cottage with a frown. “Why hasn’t Snow White come out here yet? Cleaning mushrooms shouldn’t take that long.”

She climbed over the fence, pausing when she heard murmured voices.

That’s Snow White. But who is she talking to?

The exchange was so hushed, Angelique couldn’t make out what was being said, but she thought she heard someone answer Snow White.

The air smelled…rotten. Not like horse droppings, but like something unpleasant decomposing.

Angelique looked around but saw nothing that could be responsible for the scent. She rubbed her nose, then jogged around the wall of the cottage.

Her blood turned to ice when she saw Snow White collapsed on the ground.

Standing over her was an old croon of a woman with leathery skin, bone-white hair, and a stooped back.

Chapter 26

As horror swept through Angelique, the old woman stood up straight, the appearance draining from her like an illusion as she became a tall, stately woman, beautiful, but with a cruel smile.

Something seemed to hold Angelique in place, but when she saw the woman’s smirk, she threw open the gates of her magic, letting it gush out with a roar.

“Snow White!” she screamed.

Whatever held her in place shattered, popping the bubble of magic that had secretly encompassed the cottage, revealing the dark and cold magic that seeped into the very ground.

Angelique sprinted across the yard, her magic scrabbling for anything sharp she could throw at the woman.

The woman looked back at Angelique, her lovely face twisted in a snarl. She growled, and a white gate made of magic sliced through the air.

Evariste’s magic.

Angelique could feel the familiar thrum of it beneath the raw magic that bubbled around the cottage—it struck her at the heart and almost yanked all the air out of her lungs with a sense of longing.

No—if she’s using Evariste’s magic, she’s going to escape!

The gateway glowed a blazing white and spat sparks and hissed in an angry way Angelique had never seen any of Evariste’s gateways previously behave.

The woman—no, it was Queen Faina (even with the cruel twist to her face, Angelique recognized her from the portraits)—didn’t seem very pleased with the unstable gateway, either. She scowled at it and reluctantly stepped through, disappearing from sight.

Instead of disassembling like one of Evariste’s usual gateways, this one folded in on itself, shrinking each time it folded.

Angelique lunged, trying to even graze the magic with her fingertips, but it snuffed out just before she reached it.

Hissing, Angelique swung around just in time to see Snow White’s blue eyes flutter shut.

“Snow White!” Angelique crouched at the princess’s side, the knot of fear that churned in her stomach decreasing a tiny bit when she saw the princess’ chest still rose and fell as she breathed.

Angelique used the white rapids of her freed magic to form a brute-ish healing spell that packed enough power to light the princess up and pushed it into her.

The spell surged through Snow White, searching for something to fix. It mended a few budding bruises she had from falling to the ground, but apart from that, there was nothing.

That’s impossible. Why, then, isn’t she awake?

A spell made of steely gray symbols Angelique didn’t recognize twirled around Snow White’s throat. It was likely a spell cast by the black mage working through Faina. The symbols weren’t anything like the language of magic—they were sharp and foreign. But the spell didn’t seem to