“Oh, well.” Angelique glanced up at her instructor, who smiled kindly at her—seemingly expecting a longer reply. “My father taught me. He was a soldier and did a lot of forestscouting.”
“A solider, you say?” Enchanter Evaristeasked.
“Yes,” Angelique paused, her mouth twisting slightly as her heart warred between bitterness andlonging.
“He must be very proud of you,” Enchanter Evaristesaid.
“I like to think he would be.” Angelique stared at the map with more care thannecessary.
Several long moments passed. When Evariste spoke again, his voice was soft and pained. “Angelique…is he stillalive?”
She mashed her lips together in an effort to keep her face from crumpling. Even though it had been years since her parents had died, the loss still sometimes throbbed in Angelique’s heart like a re-openedwound.
“No. He died in a goblin attack—saving a mother and child,” Angeliquesaid.
Another few moments of silence. “I’m sorry,” hesaid.
Angelique shrugged. “He was proud to be a soldier, to savepeople.”
“Didn’t your magic first manifest during a goblin attack?” Evaristeasked.
Someone has been doing some research on his apprentice. Hopefully that’s not a bad sign.“Yes,” Angelique agreed. “It was that one.” She hesitated, then added. “After both my parents were killed, my magic ripped free, and I finished off thegoblins.”
“Angelique…” Evariste’s voice held a lot of feeling, but Angelique couldn’t risk looking athim.
She had once beenso proudof her magic. It felt like proof that she was her father’s daughter, that she would carry on his legacy…until it became apparent she wasn’t a budding hero, but amonster.
Chapter 7
The baaof a noisy goat rang through the air—sounding like the sweet tolls of salvation to Angelique. “I hear livestock; that must be Boyne!” She said with cheer that sounded hollow. She folded up the map and offered it to her master. “I believe I can confidently say it’s through that line oftrees.”
Evariste took the map, then briefly held Angelique’s hand and squeezed it. “Thank you for getting us here safely.” His voice was a low rumble, and the light in his green and blue eyes wasregretful.
“Yep,” Angelique said stupidly, affected—against her will—by the look on his handsomeface.
He squeezed her hand again before he released it and ambled in the direction the goat bleat had come from. “Let’s see if we can find you a misguided youth to teach,Apprentice!”
Angelique obediently trailed after him, watching as he slipped the folded map into a pocket of his bright bluejacket.
I am surprised Enchanter Evariste isn’t good at terrain maps. He gives off the feeling of competence—if not mastery—in all areas oflife.
She thought of his library—which was incredibly impressive given it housed only his private collection of books and maps he didn’t want to risk in theworkshop.
Angelique’s eyes widened, and she halted, imitating astatue.
Wait a minute! He has portal magic and has said plainly that much of his work with magic involves studying the terrain and pin-pointing locations on maps. He’s not just good with maps; he’s anEXPERT!
Angelique’s jaw threatened to unhinge as she studied Evariste’s back with criticaleyes.
This was one of his crafty moments—and that had to have been a test. I don’t know what it was a test of, but I can only hope I passedit.
Angeliquegulped.
“Are you coming, Apprentice?” Enchanter Evariste called in his charmingvoice.
“Yes, my apologies!” Angelique hurried after him, wondering what exactly she had agreed to when she became hisapprentice.
* * *
