Evariste swept out of the room, recalibrating himself so he was on a path to the Headmaster’srooms.
While he wouldn’t really carry through on his threat to dump Quarrellous in the desert—even if he dearly wanted to—he wanted her to be scared that he would.It will keep her away from Angel, and if she ever does dare to face my wrath, she’ll never accept a portal from me again. And there is a certain amount of pleasure I can derive from that. But wasting a few weeks of her time so she is forced to travel by foot everywhere won’t bring back the years of pain she inflicted onAngel.
The thought made Evaristegrowl.
He never thought theHeadmasterwould have started the campaign againstAngelique.
He had seen the jolly man personally mentor a student whose magic was capable of creating waking daydreams and nightmares. So why would he object toAngelique?
Evariste turned a corner—he only had two more turns before he reached his next destination—when someone caught him by the shoulder and spun himaround.
“Evariste—it’s a little early in the morning to be starting a war, isn’t it?” Evariste’s old master, Lord Enchanter Clovicus, greetedhim.
Enchanter Clovicus was older than Evariste—he appeared to be in his mid-40s. Silver hair dusted his temple, a stark contrast to his copper-colored hair. He had deep smile lines, but around Evariste, he seemed to perpetually arch an eyebrow—as he was rightnow.
Evariste stared at his old teacher. “I’m going to see theHeadmaster.”
“I know,” Enchanter Clovicus said. “Just about everyone on thisfloorheard you yelling at poorQuarrellous.”
Evariste snorted. “She isnotto bepitied!”
“She is,” Enchanter Clovicus disagreed. “She’s an ethics teacher who let herself be led into acting against her dearest-held values. She is deserving of pity for so abandoning herself.” He slung his arm over Evariste’s shoulders and forcibly dragged him in the opposite direction of the Headmaster’s study. “Unfortunately, hiring incompetent ethics teachers isnotan excusable reason to go storming into the Headmaster’s study with murder in youreyes.”
Evariste rolled his eyes. “I am notthatangry.”
“You’re well on your way to working yourself up to it,” Enchanter Clovicus snorted as he pulled him through the corridor that marked the end of the Academy and the start of the Veneno Conclave’sbuildings.
He waited until they stormed a private salon for enchanters and enchantresses only, then nudged Evariste into a well-cushioned chair before he folded his arms across his broad chest. “Now, tell me what the problemis.”
Evariste spilled out the tale—how Angelique hid her cleverness behind smiles and practiced naiveté, but not out of a ploy butfear. How she refused to use her war magic, even though Evariste had been very carefully navigating the topic for nearly two years. How she always pulled the minimum amount of magic—as if she were afraid that even something benign like an illusion could do physical damage. And, apparently, how all of this had started because the Headmaster had warned his instructors to be wary ofher.
Enchanter Clovicus thoughtfully rubbed his precisely-trimmed goatee. “Sounds like a propermess.”
“Yes,” Evaristesaid.
“Quarrellous must have been mistaken,” Enchanter Clovicus continued. “The Headmaster dotes on his students. There’s no way he would have singled Angelique out and told everyone to fear her. If anything, he likely meant to praise Angelique. Quarrellous must have misunderstoodhim.”
Evariste finally let himself lean back in his chair. “That seems more likely,” he agreed reluctantly. “But why, then, did he not correcther?”
Enchanter Clovicus eased himself into a straight-backed, wooden chair. He leaned forward, propping his elbows up on his knees. “Who can say? Things have been a little odd the past fewyears.”
Evariste arched an eyebrow—much like his teacher. “Odd?”
“It feels like the quiet before a storm,” Enchanter Clovicus said. “Princess Rosalinda’s curse was no random act of violence. Carabosso didn’t justhappento get his magic back in time for the princess’birthday.”
“What does it mean?” Evaristeasked.
Enchanter Clovicus shrugged. “It means you better do your part to get yourdearlittle apprentice trainedup.”
Hearing the wry tone to his teacher’s voice, Evariste frowned. “You think it was a mistake to take her on.” When the other enchanter did not respond, his frown deepened. “Because of hermagic?”
Enchanter Clovicus snorted. “Bosh her magic!” He folded his arms behind his head and leaned back. “You’re right, I think you’re addled for taking on an apprentice—because you’re so flaming young! You can’t be much more than a decade older thanher.”
“Less than adecade.”
“Less? White Shores, my lad. You’re lucky she respects you at all—even with your reputation. No—perhaps it’s the opposite. You’re lucky she’s not giving you cow eyes and carving your name into treetrunks.”
Evariste laughed. “I don’t think she would ever be the type to do such a thing. And she seems, in general, rather unimpressed with romantic love. I think she’d rather slug someone in the gut than make eyes at aman.”
