Trial of Magic (The Fairy Tale Enchantress #4) - K. M. Shea Page 0,181

said…GET AWAY FROM MY DAUGHTER!”

The ancient black magic that Angelique wasn’t certain she could beat…fled. It rushed away from Queen Faina and shot back to the mirror, sinking within its surface with such force, the reflection violently rippled.

Queen Faina and Snow White clumped together as the armored constructs continued to attack the warriors.

They did it. Using love, they beat it. Even though that was the worst sort of magic I’ve ever seen… Evariste did tell me that love—whether paternal, platonic, romantic, or otherwise—was one of the strongest forces on earth and is as old as the most ancient kinds of magic.

Angelique’s magic stirred in her, trying to make her move—do anything. Evariste was right there! But she remained still, feeling as if she wanted to grasp something that was just out of her reach.

I can’t overpower the mirror—I can see that with my own eyes. I can disrupt it, like Sybilla mentioned, or maybe I might be able to briefly overwhelm it as Odile did with her wyvern. But…what if…

She couldn’t solidify the glimmers of her thoughts into words or an idea.

Around her, the battle still raged.

Aldelbert was protecting Wendal—who was slumped against a wall, entirely out of the fight. Marzell fought with Oswald and Rupert, but their strength was starting to fail. Gregori and Fritz worked together, but even Fritz was showing signs of weariness.

Snow White scooped up a dagger and scrambled up to the throne. She ran past it, closing in on the mirror—though her steps became slow, and she started to shiver uncontrollably.

Help them! Angelique’s magic raged in her, as her mind screamed, Do something!

But she was so close!

The mirror doesn’t have a spell on it, so it’s not a spell keeping Evariste in, but the mirror’s sheer power. I need to use my magic to fight it off, but what if—to get him out…

Angelique wasn’t stupid.

She didn’t romantically love Evariste.

However, if she’d learned anything over the past few years, it was that missing Evariste—feeling his absence—was an ache that never went away and a wound that cut far deeper than she’d ever expected.

As his student, she’d respected him, but she hadn’t valued their relationship.

Evariste had, however. He’d always made it plain that he cared for her. Even when she thought he was a dream and—

I love him. I don’t know how to define what kind of love, but I do love him. And that is all I need to get him out.

Satisfied, Angelique released her hold on her magic, and it roared free.

Chapter 29

She was here.

Evariste could feel her unique, remarkable magic. Not just where the flicker of her powers still prodded at the wall blocking his magic in his soul, but outside the mirror.

He thought he could see her, but although the surface wasn’t hazy like it usually was, outside it was smudged—almost like a painting.

He was fairly certain, however, that the lively smudge wearing bright blue was Angelique.

She’d come. After all this time, she never gave up.

Angelique stopped and gaped at the mirror every few minutes—practically oblivious to the fighting around her.

He stared at her, a weird, starving sensation twisting in his gut as he noticed her unevenly cut hair and unusual clothes.

Can she tell I’m here? I think she knows I’m in a mirror, but I don’t know that she can sense it’s this one.

Evariste paced back and forth, as close to the mirror’s surface as possible.

She’s not using magic—why is she not using magic? Isn’t Clovicus or Sybilla with her? Why is she alone? What’s been happening that she appears to be alone? The mirror is too dangerous to face alone—I, of all people should know!

Evariste’s cloak tangled around his legs as he impatiently paced—hope and fear blooming in his chest.

He might be able to get out—he could almost taste freedom!

But if the mirror can overpower Angelique…if it captures her and engulfs her the way it has engulfed me…

Evariste pushed against the mirror’s surface and tried one last mad scramble for his magic.

No! I can’t let her be taken!

Neither yielded, but he didn’t give up. He wasn’t going to stop fighting until he was out.

Angelique’s magic surged through her—cold and knifelike—as she finally let herself sprint across the throne room.

She pounded past Snow White and barely noticed when frost clung to the tips of her messy hair and her magic cut through the swampy fog that had begun to gather. She skidded to a stop in front of the mirror and slammed her fists on its surface. “Evariste!”

He appeared in the mirror,