you!” She launched herself over the armor wall—ignoring the unsettling roll in her stomach—and gestured at the onyx swords, snapping her magic.
The swords redistributed, then stabbed at the black mages as the skinny man hauled the mirror toward the window.
One of the mages tapped his own magic and ripped the layer of obsidian stone off the floor, creating a protective shell. The onyx swords slammed into the shell—making some of it crumple—but they were unable to reach the mages.
The mage with the fire magic formed another bubbling ball. Just as he raised his hand to throw the fire at Angelique, a crossbow bolt struck his bicep.
He collapsed to the ground, shouting in pain.
“Now!” Marzell yelled.
The Seven Warriors attacked, throwing daggers and shooting more bolts at them. The mage—who must have had a core magic for stone work or something similar—hurriedly peeled up more of the expensive flooring, reinforcing his shell.
The fourth Chosen mage hopped through the broken window. The stick-like mage that carried the mirror tried to slide it through behind them, but the mirror’s frame caught on the sides of the window.
It was too wide.
If the situation wasn’t so dire, Angelique would have laughed out loud.
Instead, she loosened another swirl of her core magic, adjusted the position of the onyx swords, and struck again. She swiped the swords in a wide arc—attempting to take out the stone shell so the Seven Warriors could get a shot at the Chosen mages again while giving her at least a chance at breaking the mirror. Or at least damaging it.
But although the onyx weapons dragged across the face of the mirror with a screech that made everyone wince—except for the Chosen mage who was outside and screaming as the group uselessly tried to pull the mirror through the window—they didn’t leave so much as a scratch on its surface.
One of the swords shattered on impact with the mirror. The reverb jarred Angelique straight to her core and made her ears ring.
“Lord Vitkovci!” Snow White shouted with an admirable amount of volume, audible even above the racket of the fight.
Angelique glanced back, but Snow White had thankfully remained inside the ward as she shouted for the Mullberg lord. Evariste was safely there, too, but he had a curious expression on his face as he stared at Angelique.
Later.
Angelique flicked at her magic, again ramming the swords into the stone shell (which buckled) and trying to drive them through the mirror (which did nothing).
The mages must have realized Angelique would soon get them because the stone mage started throwing pumpkin-sized rocks at Angelique, providing cover for his compatriots. The spindly mage scrambled out from behind the shell to try rotating the mirror and shove it through, his movements frantic.
Angelique ducked a thrown rock but trusted her ward to shield Evariste and Snow White.
A painful clang sounded behind her. Angelique swung around just long enough to see that Fritz had intercepted one of the rocks with a metal shield and was beckoning for Snow White to get back behind the armor wall.
Yes, they’ll be a good match. He’ll have enough preservation skills to help Snow White live longer.
Angelique used the onyx swords again—attempting to directly hit the Chosen mage with the strength magic. He nimbly climbed under the mirror, avoiding the attack, and from his crouched position, he managed to finally flip the mirror at an angle that let its frame slide through the window.
He jumped out after it, the stone mage and fire mage right behind him.
“NO!” Angelique loosened her hold on her magic so it raged freely around her.
Incensed, she darted around the stone shell and scrambled through the broken window—being careful not to scratch herself on the jagged glass.
There was a bit of a drop outside, but she landed on the roof of an intersecting castle wing with a solid thud.
“Angel, wait!” Evariste’s voice was slightly muffled inside the throne room.
Angelique ignored him and sprinted across the palace rooftop.
The fire mage happened to look back as she closed in on the party. He yelped, notifying the rest of the Chosen mages.
One of them shrieked—Angelique wasn’t entirely certain why—and while they attempted to pick up their pace, they wobbled precariously on the roof.
I should have taken Elle up on her offer to teach me how to run on roofs!
The mages started to panic as Angelique—more physically fit than any of them—continued to gain on them. She released her hold on the black onyx swords, intending to grab a fresh crop of weapons and/or jagged