Stil shook his head and turned to face her. “Right, yes. Remember how we were discussing earlier that there has been too much pandemonium to be a coincidence? And that it’s likely Evariste was taken by those who have been stirring up some of thistrouble?”
Angeliquenodded.
“I think this is an organized attack, and that there is a darker goal in mind,” Stilsaid.
“And what does that have to do with the nightmare chasingyou?”
“I was explaining to Gemma about some of my more, um,advancedabilities. Particularly, I was explaining that I can cast magic on more swords at a much faster pace than the averagecraftmage.”
“Yes,” Angelique said in confirmation when Stilpaused.
Stil was considered a genius for various reasons, but mostly for the speed and power at which he could work. While most craftmages might take an hour to spell one weapon with a low-level spell, Stil could work his magic on a hundred in a single day. The same went for charms he placed on jewelry and gems, cloth goods, and all othermaterials.
“Gemma pointed out that with the rate I can enchant weapons, I could outfit an army,” Stilcontinued.
“Yes,” Angeliquerepeated.
“So if things get worse, and war weredeclared…”
Angelique blinked twice, then said, stunned, “You could outfit our allies. That’s why you’re being hunted—you’d give us a big advantage, more so than any other craftmagealive.”
“I don’t know aboutanyothercraftmage…”
Angelique’s thoughts raced at the unpleasant implications.I thought there might be an enemy planning all of this—as Stil said, it’s too much to be a coincidence. But this goes beyond that. They—whoever they are—aren’t just seeking to stir up trouble. They want wreckage and ruin. They wantwar. “Stil,” Angeliquesaid.
Reluctantly, he met hergaze.
“If they purposely took out Evariste, and are now targetingyou…”
Stil grimly nodded. “It means this is far bigger, and far more serious than we thought. So…what will we do aboutit?”
“I don’t know,” Angeliquesaid.
“The Veneno Conclave and the Council must be informed,” Stilsaid.
“But we have no proof,” Angelique pointedout.
“Not yet, but if you can put Lord Enchanter Clovicus on the trail, I’m certain he’ll be able to find something,” Stil pointed out. “Or at the very least use his influence to make the Conclave takenote.”
Angelique rubbed her eyes. “Lovelana and the committee she’s running could look into it—if we could convince them to stop looking into incidents that took place over twenty yearsago.”
“Yes—even if those incidents were part of the bigger plan we’re seeing enacted now, ten years ago is far too long for this…enemy…to clean up after themselves. It would be faster to look deeper into the witch queenClotilde.”
“Elise killed her when she and her brothers returned toArcainia.”
“Perhaps, but didn’t Clotilde live in the woods where she met King Henrik? That can’t have been an accident. If mages find where she was staying in the forest, they might be able to uncover additionalinformation.”
He’s right. Clotilde was obviously planted to take advantage of King Henrik. It’s instances like that—and the nightmare and rider following Stil—that are the most upsetting. Our enemy is clearly cunning and has been carefully strategizing against us. Has there been a movement like this since the days of the SnowQueen?
The Snow Queen was a legendary Verglas magic user. When she lived, mages had been feared and were frequently mistreated. A band of magic users, angered over their mistreatment, had banded together and swept across Verglas, planning to enslave its people. The Snow Queen had stopped them and—with help from her people—defeated theirarmy.
She was beloved by all in Verglas and all mages—though it was difficult to know where history ended and the mythbegan.
Angelique slightly shook her head and refocused. “I can tell Clovicus—though if he is unable to find anything, he’ll need you to collaborate. My word will mean nothing to theConclave.”
Stil’s expression darkened. “After all you’ve done, your word should meanmorethan Clovicus’! You were the one who faced Clotilde, altered Prince Severin’s curse, and studied the storms inRingsted.”
Angelique shrugged. “It is what itis.”
