Trial of Magic (The Fairy Tale Enchantress #4) - K. M. Shea Page 0,221

“You’ve saved the continent in uncovering this, Angelique, and run off a great number of the Chosen. It’s time for you to take a moment. We can handle this next part.”

I do need to rest—or I might be out of it for even longer than I was after the fight with the mirror. I can’t risk that—not since the Chosen so deeply infiltrated the Conclave!

Angelique let her shoulders slump. “Very well. Thank you.”

“Of course, dearie.” Sybilla hip-bumped Clovicus to the side so she could pat Angelique’s hands.

Angelique rolled her shoulders back and mentally braced herself, then cut off her magic.

Instantly, the nausea returned, slamming through her with such force that she collapsed.

She was vaguely aware of a pink glow of magic and someone holding her, but soon all sensations except for the churning of her stomach drifted away, masked by the way the world seemed to spin out of control around her.

“This, this is worse than my fight with the mirror,” Angelique mumbled as sweat broke out on her skin.

Her body shook as she retched, but she’d already been sick so many times that there was nothing left except for painful heaves.

But she’d defended Evariste. No matter what happened next, the Chosen hadn’t gotten him back. Surely someone would be able to break the curse on him, and then maybe he’d stop looking so exhausted…

Chapter 36

Angelique cracked an eyelid and groaned when golden light assaulted her.

She could feel the dirt and grit that crusted her clothes and skin. A rancid taste soured her mouth, and her eyes and head ached.

She shifted and realized she’d been placed on something soft. A moment passed before she tried to pry her eyes open again. She attempted to move her arms, but it was nearly impossible because she’d been wrapped in a cocoon of cloaks. Some had even been shoved behind her, cushioning her head so she didn’t feel the stones she was draped over.

“What?” she mumbled in a hoarse, dry voice that sounded like death.

“Good morning, Lady Enchantress Angelique!”

Feeling rusty and dried out, Angelique peered up at the mage who greeted her. “Huh?”

“Lord Enchanter Evariste will be most relieved to hear you are awake,” the mage said. She wore light leather armor, boots, and carried a glaive—a war mage for certain. Her smile was nearly as brilliant as the sun—which was a pale gold peeking above the horizon, casting long shadows and bathing everything in weak but warm light.

It took Angelique a few seconds to peer through the shadows and sunlight and realize about a dozen war mages were fanned out around her, posted in a protective pattern.

“I was out of it for the whole night?” Angelique finally managed to pry her arms from her cocoon of cloaks and rub her eyes.

“Lady Enchantress Lovelana was most upset that she wasn’t able to directly lessen your symptoms.”

Angelique snorted. “It’s my price for my powers—wouldn’t be much of a price if a little healing magic could make it go away, would it?”

The war mage chose to ignore the grunted comment and continued. “However, she was able to put you in a charmed, healing sleep, which I believe lessened your misery.”

Angelique considered her stomach. Her mouth burned, but her stomach was no longer churning or protesting. Food didn’t sound appetizing, but she could look around without falling over.

The implications of seeing the cloudless sky and sitting among rocky ruins finally hit Angelique. “I slept out here the whole night?”

The war mage pressed her lips together in clear pique. “I suggested you be moved to more comfortable quarters, but Lord Enchanter Evariste refused. He, Fairy Godmother Sybilla, Lord Enchanter Clovicus, Lord Enchanter Tristisim, and Lady Enchantress Felicienne have opted to create a temporary abode just past the rubble rather than stay directly in the fortress, in case the Chosen have entrances we are unaware of.”

The war mage gestured down the broken street, where Angelique could see a large tent made of gauzy purple fabric. Its innards glowed, lit by magic or fires—apparently no one had rested yet since the events of the previous night.

“I see. Thank you for guarding me?” Angelique squinted up at the war mage, hoping she was right.

She hoped she was being protected, and not that the guards had been posted to restrain her when she woke.

The war mage bowed her head. “The black mages very obviously fear you. Guarding you so you could sleep in peace was our honor.”

Angelique scratched the back of her head. “I see. Thank you.” The response felt lackluster,