Chapter 1
Angelique had magic,which normally meant she would be respected and honored. Unfortunately, she had too much of thewrongtype of magic. At best, she was a liability. And atworst…
Angelique spared herself the pain of dwelling on the more unpleasant possibilities she presented and instead listlessly followed the two academy instructors who led her down a shadowyhallway.
A mage stood at the end of the passageway, guarding a giant door. The guard was a war mage—if the halberd she twirled with ease was any indication. She shifted her stance so she stood with the weapon extended in an attack position as they drewcloser.
Maybe that’s why they’re so scared of me. They know the guards could never hurt me if I used mymagic.
Angelique shoved the unwanted thought from her mind. If her teachers—never mind the Council—knew her dry musings, they’d seal her magic the moment she stepped through thedoor.
Madam Quarrellous ruffled her plum-purple cloak and peered at the guard. “I am Madam Quarrellous; this is my colleague Master Gladio. We are here by the invitation of the Council to discuss a matter of graveimportance.”
The war mage peered past them, her eyes settling on Angelique. Her lower jaw dropped in a very unprofessional manner, so her mouth formed an O. “Angelique?” the guardasked.
My infamy has reached outside the academy, has it?Angelique pasted a lopsided grin on her face. “Unfortunately,yes.”
Madam Quarrellous pinched her lips together until they were barely a thinline.
The war mage didn’t seem to notice, for she offered Angelique a flicker of a smile before she leaned her halberd against the wall and started unlocking the charms that barred thedoor.
Master Gladio glanced back at Angelique long enough to raise a bushy gray eyebrow at her. “Behave,” he warnedher.
What do you think I’m going to do, engage in a sudden murder spree? Good thing you said something, becausewordswould definitely be enough to stop me.Angelique wanted to scoff back at him, but he already eyed her warily as if she were a rabid wolf. She forced her smile to obediently straighten out. “Yes, MasterGladio.”
When the door swung open, Madam Quarrellous swept inside, marching forward with—Angelique imagined—years of glee spurringher.
Today would likely mark the instructor’s crowning achievement: she was finally booting Angelique from the Veneno Conclave—something she had heavily campaigned many years for. (Ever since the Academy had discovered how much magic Angelique possessed,really.)
Master Gladio stepped aside and motioned for Angelique to follow in Madam Quarrellous’ wake. When she trailed after the female instructor, Master Gladio fell in step behind her, cutting off any escaperoute.
The Council—a committee of enchanters/enchantresses that represented the Veneno Conclave as a whole and made rulings, judgements, and laws on behalf of all magic users—met inside what was fondly called HallowedHall.
It was dark. The only light in the room fell in focused beams that haloed the three Lord Enchanters and three Lady Enchantresses who served on The Council. There was one extra ring of light that surrounded a raised platform hemmed in by woodenrailings.
Madam Quarrellous made her way to that raised platform, the rich plum color of her cloak subdued under the onslaught of the brightlight.
Angelique, several steps behind her, shivered in Hallowed Hall’s chilly air. She squinted when she stepped into the bright light—which made it rather hard to see anything besides her instructors and the lit-up forms of the already-seated CouncilMembers.
The chamber was stuffy in its silence—all noise seemingly muted by the power of the six Council Members seated at their raised desks. Angelique knew there was an audience in the darkness somewhere off to the left, but she couldn’t hear more than the occasional shifting of achair.
Master Gladio hesitated for a moment before snapping the wooden gate shut behind him, penning Angelique into the raisedplatform.
“Wise and venerated members of the Council.” Madam Quarrellous curtsied and bowed her head. “I bring before you today a student of Luxi-Domus, Angelique, with the request that you would seal her, cutting her off from her dangerousmagic—”
“Now, now, Madam Quarrellous,” one enchanter called in a playful tone. “Let’s not be hasty. Every type of magic could be considered ‘dangerous’ if one misusesit.”
It took more squinting before Angelique could make out the large golden plaques placed before each enchanter andenchantress.
The Council Member who had spoken out was Lord Enchanter Crest—the youngest of the Council Members. He appeared young, perhaps in his late thirties, but magic slowed the aging process and greatly lengthened the life expectancy of all enchanters and enchantresses. There was a chance he was old enough to be her grandfather, even though he had jet-black hair with a distinct blue haze toit.
Enchanter Crest leaned forward, his eyes lingering on Angelique. “You have war magic, do you not,Angelique?”
“Yes, Lord Enchanter,” Angelique said, her voice huskier than usual. She blinked rapidly, afraid either the bright lights or the painful lump in her throat would soon make hercry.
When I first entered this school as a naïve child, I never thought I’d be going before the Council to be tried. Like a criminal.Defeat left a bitter taste in her mouth, but Angelique was so tired. Tired of all the suspicion she faced, tired of the whispers that dogged her every step no matter how she tried to prove she wouldn’t hurt anyone, and tired of fighting what should have been a lie but was starting to feel like atruth.
“What strain of war magic is it?” Enchantress Primrose—a smiling enchantress with a round face and rosy cheeks—peered down at the papers strewn across her desk. “Was it…speed, orstrength?”
