be doing anything.
Behind Angelique, something thrashed in the woods. She tensed—had Queen Faina come back with the black mage responsible for this? But then her magic pinpointed the quiver with the arrows that was drawing closer in tandem with the thrashing.
Marzell.
Angelique ignored the incoming warrior and anxiously peered at Snow White, doing her best to find whatever was wrong with the princess.
She didn’t see any wounds, and her magic couldn’t sense anything—but she hadn’t sensed Queen Faina’s arrival, either, which was terrifying for a number of reasons.
She tried tugging at the spell, trying to get a better sense for it, but whenever she touched it, the cold, dark powers that had attacked her with the constructs shot through her body.
Why is nothing working? This has to be dark magic, but what can I do to counter it? Why doesn’t it look like anything I’ve seen before?
The skid of feet on grass confirmed Marzell had arrived.
“Snow White!” Angelique slapped the princess’ cheeks, trying to get any reaction out of her.
Snow White didn’t stir.
Aldelbert popped out of the trees and sprinted to Angelique, his normally dopey expression tight with alarm and concern. “What happened?”
“Faina.” Angelique released her magic, feeling lost.
I don’t know what to do! I can’t find anything wrong with her!
She shook her head, then made herself glance up at Aldelbert. “I don’t know entirely what happened, but she put some sort of spell on her.”
Wendal popped out of the trees, shoving branches out of his way. “Is she still breathing?”
“Yes.”
Marzell—who’d been frozen like a statue—finally lurched into motion when Oswald and Rupert joined the group.
Gregori emerged from the woods behind them. “You said it was Faina?”
“She must have approached Snow White disguised as an old woman. I saw her drop her illusion as I came around the cottage.” Angelique impatiently pushed her jagged hair out of her face with a dirty hand.
“You say she put a spell on her?” Marzell asked.
Angelique helplessly stared at the deathly-still princess. “I can’t tell what—if we’re lucky, it might be a curse. Those are easier to alter.”
“But how could the Queen do such a thing?” Rupert crouched on Snow White’s other side and scanned the princess. “She hasn’t any magic.”
Wendal grimly pinched his daggers between his fingers. “The rogue mage controlling her?”
Gregori shook his head. “If that were the case, would the mage have not come here on their own rather than risk sending Faina?”
His words stirred an alarm in Angelique. There was a pearl of truth to them.
But the mage must have cast the spell through Faina. Snow White didn’t get this spell on her as a souvenir!
Marzell rubbed his eyes. “There must be a way to save her. There has to be. Was there anything else you noticed?”
Angelique sat back on her heels and stared at the spell. “Nothing that will help us wake Snow White up,” she said bitterly. “Only further proof that our own inaction with the Chosen may be the end of us yet.”
Marzell cocked his head. “What?”
“We should get Snow White inside,” Gregori said.
Marzell ran his hands through his hair. “Yes. If we can assess the situation, we might be able to figure out whom to send for.”
“I should be able to pin down what sort of enchantment was placed upon her,” Angelique said.
I don’t care if saying that is as good as admitting I am more than an herb wizard’s apprentice. Snow White is far more important than any disguise.
Angelique pressed her lips together and stared at the gray spell. “But it will take me a little while.”
“Please, do whatever you can. Aldelbert, Wendal, take Snow White inside,” Marzell said.
Aldelbert eased his arms under Snow White and carefully lifted her up, almost stepping on an apple piece left on the lawn.
The princess hung limply in his arms, resembling a lifeless doll.
“Rupert, Oswald, search the area,” Marzell said.
The normally ornery duo dashed into the forest, heading in opposition directions.
“Faina is gone.” Angelique leaned against the cottage for support as she felt a weariness settle all the way to her soul. “She used magic to leave.”
“Perhaps, but we’re taking no chances. Not after we’ve already—” Marzell abruptly cut off and took a deep breath before he pivoted, facing away from Angelique. “Gregori, can you stand guard outside the cottage—and prep a horse so we can send for help?”
Gregori nodded, then jogged off to the stables.
Angelique squared her shoulders and started to step into the dimly lit cottage, but paused in the door. “Fritz?”
Marzell’s furrowed brow was craggy with worry.