“But was it?” Angelique asked. “Or had the enemy calculated that the only way they’d capture Lord Enchanter Evariste was to put his apprentice—who was much less experienced—indanger?”
He grunted. “You may have a point there, but be careful. As I’ve taken up the responsibility of delivering your theory to the Conclave, where will you head tonext?”
Angelique stifled the desire to rub her eyes. “I still may need to go to the Veneno Conclave—unless, do you know if Blanche and Rein made it safely toRingsted?”
“Actually, they’re back at theConclave.”
“Already? Could they not make it over the ChronosMountains?”
“Quite the opposite. They made it to Baris and learned that the selkies, led by the selkie princess you aided last summer, captured the sea witch and have broken up the storms isolatingRingsted.”
“They broke up the…storms?” Angelique blamed her slow understanding on her chronic fatigue rather than true stupidity. “Then…are Ringsted’s harbors openagain?”
“Open and booming withbusiness.”
The news stirred relief in Angelique’s chest.Ringsted, at least, is safe. That’s one less thing to worry over—and one more way the continent has fought back. Praise theheavens.
“So, it seems I must ask you yet again, where will you head next?” Clovicusasked.
Angelique slightly shook her head, giddy with the unexpected moment of freedom. “Home, perhaps? Between dealing with the sleeping princess in Sole and answering Stil’s summons, I haven’t had a chance to focus on searching for Evariste in a while. There might be reports waiting for me at Evariste’s house concerning the production of magicmirrors.”
Since discovering roughly two years prior that Evariste was being held captive in a magic mirror, Angelique had focused on finding artisans who could create mirrors capable of being enchanted. Unfortunately, thus far, her efforts had been invain.
“You won’t continue a physical search?” Clovicusasked.
Angelique shrugged. “I don’t know where else tolook.”
“Have you triedZancara?”
Both Angelique and Clovicus swiveled, facing the boy with the bright smile, who was holding out a fistful ofpebbles.
“Zancara?” Clovicus said. “The country enshrouded in isolation, where no one has gone in or out due to themassive wallthat surrounds the whole country.ThatZancara?”
“Yeah, well, weren’t they famous for their glasswork?” the boy asked. “My Mam has a hand mirror that’s been passed down through the family for generations as an heirloom, and it was made inZancara.”
“I have to say I haven’t caught up on Zancara’s best exports given that they closed their borders long before I was born,” Clovicus drylysaid.
“But have you searched Zancara?” the boypersisted.
Angelique knitted her fingers together, trying to ignore the lightheadedness of hope. “No.”
Clovicus made a noise in the back of his throat but frowned slightly at the student, who was still grasping his handful of pebbles. “What do youwant?”
“Oh, um, I used my alteration magic to turn my dorm key into a pebble, but I dropped it, and now I can’t tell which one it is.” The boy held out his handful of smallrocks.
Clovicus thoughtfully stared at the night sky. “I hate Tristism,” he said, finally. “Very, very much. And I’m going to see to it that he regrets everfathomingthispunishment.”
Seeing that Clovicus was still absorbed with muttering curses to the stars, Angelique took pity on the student. “You should be able to recognize your magical signature. The pebble that has your magic is yourkey.”
“Ahh, yes! That’s brilliant! Thank you, Apprentice Angelique!” The boy trotted off with a wave, plopping down on the ground—dusted free of snow—with a graceless drop that made him knock shoulders with one of hisclassmates.
Clovicus finally stopped complaining to the sky and instead narrowed his eyes at Angelique. “You’re going to go there, aren’tyou?”
“To Zancara?” Angeliqueasked.
Clovicusnodded.
Angelique bought herself some time to think by checking the fishtail braid her hair—an ashy blonde color this evening—was woveninto.
