“Over here!” Firrashouted.
Angelique darted down an alleyway, popping out on a street and stumbling upon a rather surprisingimage.
Delanna sat next to a bruised and unconscious Carabosso. He bled from one shoulder and looked more disheveled than even Angelique felt as Delanna poked his neck with a crossbowbolt.
Rosalinda leaned against a building, her eyes closed, her head tilted towardFirra.
The fire mage smoothed Rosalinda’s hair back from her temple and stood. “Briar Rose is hurt. Delanna said Carabosso used a nasty spell on her. I don’t think he mortally wounded her, but I’d like you to heal her. I’ll secureCarabosso.”
“I understand the sentiment, but I’m not going to take any chances.” Angelique briskly crossed the street, already twisting her magic into a sleep spell. She gave it triple the power it required and stretched out her hand, intending to tap his head to transfer the spell. It was then that her spiteful side got the best of her, and she instead chose to lay it on him by delivering a swift kick to hisside.
“What’s that?” Firraasked.
“A sleep spell. I’m sure the Magic Knights will have proper tools to subdue him, but the other mages already slipped through our fingers. I’m not taking any chance that will give Carabosso the opportunity toescape.”
Angelique narrowed her eyes and watched for a moment, but nothingchanged.
Carabosso’s handsome looks were somewhat muted by the already forming bruises on his face, making his skin look more ashen than fashionably pale. His shiny black and silver-threaded hair was torn out of the low ponytail he had fastened it in. The brand that marked him as an exiled mage was still an angry red scar on his forehead, but he had it partially hidden beneath featherybangs.
It’s disturbing. He doesn’t look like a practitioner of black magic—if you ignore the brand, he looks like a Veneno Conclave Mage that went through a rough battle. That, more than anything, bothers me. Black mages are usually quite easy to pick out—the dark nature of their magic stands out next to the beauty of even the most averagemage.
If Lovelanna is correct, and there is a mole among the Conclave…would we even be able totell?
Abruptly, Carabosso’s mouth dropped open and he snored.Loudly.
Firra rubbed one of her eyebrows. “That must have been some spell. How long do you think he’ll be out ofit?”
Angelique swiveled and approached Rosalinda. “A day. At least.” Her gaze slipped back to Carabosso, and she felt her magic stir within her like an angrywolf.
No. Nothere.
She set her shoulders, but it took two tries before her magic correctly wove into a proper healing spell. Once finished, she set a hand on Rosalinda’s shoulder, letting the spell slowly seep into the princess’ body. “You said Carabosso used a spell on her?” Angelique frowned as she felt the last few flickers of the spell before they disintegrated. They were bitter like poison andstrong. Even though they weren’t doing the princess any harm at the moment, the bits of spell tried to flare to life. The spell didn’t die entirely until Angelique’s silver magic roamed across Rosalinda’s body, effortlessly swallowing the last bits of darkmagic.
“Yes,” Delanna confirmed. “It was red-ish strings of what I assume was magic. They wrapped around her body and held hercaptive.”
Angelique nodded, disturbed on behalf of the princess and what the spell signified. Whatever it had been, it wasdarkand powerful.The Chosen must have recruited Carabosso almost immediately after the Veneno Conclave exiled him. How else could he have such power in a magic discipline he was not taught as astudent?
Hooves pounded on packed dirt, and moments later, Sir Isaia and his mount appeared in thesmoke.
“Briar?” he asked, his voice tight withworry.
Firra looked toAngelique.
She forced a smile for appearance’s sake. “She’ll be fine. She needs to rest—we should take her to someplace safer—and more comfortable. But it’s good that she sleeps. Carabosso,however…”
Sir Isaia sprang off his horse’s back, a pair of manacles dangling from his hands. Two swift strides, and he was on the snoring black mage, securing his arms behind hisback.
“He won’t go anywhere,” Sir Isaia said. “Not with two squads of Magic Knights and two Legendary Knightsaround.”
“Three,” Lady Delannasaid.
Sir Isia blinked and frowned slightly inconfusion.
“There are Three Legendary Knights present, now that you are the Knight of the Two-Handed Sword,” she gently remindedhim.
Angelique remained by Rosalinda for a moment longer. She was less concerned about the princess—she survived the torture of the black spell, now it was just a matter of relieving her pain—and more concerned that her magic (still oozing from her and swirling invitingly in Carabosso’s direction) might unwind and turn into something that could harmRosalinda.
“Once Carabosso is restrained, we need to think where we should take Rosalinda for the night,” shesaid.
