Pegasus, disinterested, went back to sneering at aseedling.
She stomped—carefully, for she didn’t want to crush a plant—through the field. “Now we have to ride past him to get him downwind,” she grumbled. “Which means more time runningaround.”
She finally reached Pegasus and stood in front of him, planting her hands on her hips. “Well? What do you have tosay?”
Pegasus sneezed in her face, spattering her with flecks of spit andsnot.
He’s the worst. Angelique grimaced and wiped her face clean. She glared at the constellation, who maneuvered himself so she could easily clamber into thesaddle.
When he tossed his head—making his bridle jingle—Angelique sighed. “Thank you for theride.”
As she predicted, they had to chase after the wyvern and get in front of him—something they didn’t accomplish until dusk thatnight.
As the wyvern had drawn dangerously close to Swan Lake, they let themselves be seen, scaring the creature back north. They chased after it until Angelique nearly fell out of the saddle from exhaustion, causing Pegasus to insist on stopping for thenight.
It wasn’t until Angelique was curled up against his glossy back that it occurred to her that her companion had to be far stronger than she—or anyone else for that matter—knew.
For how else could his mere scent have sent the wyvern scrambling infear?
* * *
Evariste sat on the ground,his forearms pressed into his knees as the feeling of defeat ate throughhim.
When I was awake, at least I felt like I could get information, look for potential ways to escape, and bother the black mages for good measure. Butnow…
Behind him, innocents cried out in pain anddeath.
A cold sweat made his robes stick to him, and he rubbed hisforehead.
Now, I just want it toend.
His own magic, forcefully turned against him, swirled. To his right, Lady Enchantress Lovelana cried as a lightning spell envelopedher.
“Enchanter Evariste—help, please!” shebegged.
Evariste pressed his palms into his eyes.No matter how I try, no matter what I do, it doesn’t help. This really is a thousand timesworse.
Magic flared, and directly in front of him—wearing a dress of cream and purple—was the one person he had most dreadedseeing.
“Master,” Angelique whispered, her eyes already glazed with pain as black magic wrapped around her neck. “Can’t you saveme?”
Evariste groaned from deep within his soul, and his clenched fists shook with his fury and aching pain.I feel so useless! I can’t help her. I can’t help anyone! I’m a failure as a mage—I’m a failure inallways! How could I let thishappen?
His magic—though separated—seemed to feel his pain, for he saw blue bits of it crawl around the floor and flicker at Angelique’sfeet.
“Master?” Angelique’s voice shook, and her lower liptrembled.
Evariste’s mind heaved and his heart felt as though someone had ripped it in two as he was forced to watch as the black noose of magic tightened around her. Sparks of his magic churned, bright in the darkness that surrounded them. His magic caressed her hand, then floated higher, disappearing from sight as Angelique started to cry and struggle against the illusionary black magic that tightened across herthroat.
And then, behind her, a silvery lightbloomed.
There was a sound not unlike a blade being drawn from its sheath. The light grew, a warning signal before magic slammed through the darkness, drowning the area in electrifying power. The magic was so potent and consuming, it stole Evariste’s breath and made him fall to his knees. Tiny cracks appeared in the darkness, spreadingrapidly.
And though he was trapped, cut off from his own powers, and suffering through torture, Evariste would have recognized the bright and shocking sensation of that magic anywhere. Only one person had the magic of an exploding star; only one person contained that kind ofpower.
Angelique.
Evariste’s magic—trapped in the torturous spell as it was—bubbled, curling around Angelique, folding her in a softhug.
