They scared the nightmare off and successfully defeated the rider, though Stil walked away from the fight with an arrow in his shoulder. (He also babbled vaguely about the hellhound transforming after Gemma shoved a starfire crystal down its throat, but Angelique wasn’t sure if that was real or part of Stil’s fevered recollection of thefight.)
They had staggered most of the way back to Stil’s tent when King Torgen’s troops foundthem.
Rather than drag Stil down with her—or leave him to face the troops and, thus, the mad king’s wrath alone—Gemma had gone to the soldiers, who officially took her into custody and were assumedly headednorth.
It was a grim situation, given that before Gemma had successfully fled King Torgen, he had declared his intention to marry her, even though he had a son older than her. And if hedidn’tmarry her, it was almost certain he would have her killed out of sheerspite.
“We have to ride north,now.” Stil leaned against Pricker Patch—while telling Angelique the finer points of the night’s events, he had managed to edge his way through his tent-house and outside to check on his largedonkey.
“Even if you headed out now, it’s not likely you could catch up with them,” Angelique bluntlysaid.
Stil abruptly stood straight and turned in her direction. “But you could, onPegasus.”
Oh, no. No, no, no. I’m not shouldering another burden by myself!She pressed her lips together to keep the selfish thought to herself and shook her head.But this is Stil asking. And Gemma surely deserves aid…but must I really do thisalone?
She thought for a moment, wondering how she could phrase an objection that didn’t sound so selfish orwhiny.
“I could,” Angelique acknowledged. “But involving myself in King Torgen’s affairs is the surest way to anger the Conclave. And while I no longer care what they think of me and refuse to let them waste my time with their pointless summons for every rule I break, weneedthem to understand the severity of what’s going on. Meddling like this will upset them so much, they won’t listen to Clovicus when he tries to reason withthem.”
Stil’s eyes grew stormy. “I won’t abandonGemma!”
“I’m not saying you should,” Angelique calmly said. “All I meant to say is that I can and willhelpyou save her, but I don’t want to risk doing such a thingalone.”
It was true-enough reasoning. Angelique was fairly certain the Council wouldn’t send a summons for her even if she tangled with King Torgen. But she was also fairly certain it meant they would give even less thought to the grave situation than they already were likelyto.
“But there’s no way for me to travel to Ostfold in time!” Stil ran his hands through his silky black hair and pulled onit.
Angelique looked past the mage, her eyes settling on Pegasus, who had his rump to them and was lipping a pile of loose snow. “We shall see aboutthat.”
She strode toward the constellation, her dress sweeping through the snow. “Pegasus, I need afavor.”
Pegasus lifted his head and blinked his darkeyes.
Angelique nervously mashed her hands together.It was one thing to offer Gemma a ride when we were walking. But to ask him to bear Stil while galloping?She took a deep breath for courage. “We need to get to Ostfold—both Stil and I. If we journey at Pricker Patch’s pace, we’ll arrive too late. Would you carry us bothnorth?”
His ears flicked, and Angelique could tell he was considering thematter.
She held her breath, half-prepared to run should her admittedly cheeky request offendhim.
Eventually Pegasus snapped his head—his version of anod.
Angelique straightened in surprise. “Really?”
Pegasus trumpeted so loudly, his call rolled across the plain and dumped snow off trees in thedistance.
Angelique cringed at the assault to her ears. “Sorry for doubting you, andthank you!” On an impulse she kissed the top of his muzzle—which was as soft as velvet and zinged with a foreign magic that felt a bit like lightning on herlips.
Without waiting to see his reaction, Angelique ran back in Stil’s direction, waving her hand to get his attention. “He’ll carry both of us! But we’ll have to find a safe place for Pricker Patch before we leave, and I’ll need to put another healing spell onyou.”
* * *
After hurriedly droppingPricker Patch off at the stable of the first kind farmer they could find, Angelique and Stil—riding Pegasus—gallopednorth.
They were forced to stop once along the way—Angelique was operating on too little sleep to make the journey without resting, and Stil needed his wound checked and re-dressed—but even with their late start, they managed to arrive in the early morning hours the night after Gemma arrived in Ostfold—and on the day she was to marry KingTorgen.
Stil was muttering under his breath as he studied the royal palace, his eyebrows bunched together as he occasionally squatted down to write something in thesnow.
Angelique, using a soft brush, was carefully brushing down a preening Pegasus, unsure if she was more surprised or complimented that he was enjoying the attention. She paused her ministrations when she saw what appeared to be a large wolf-like creature. Its fur was pure white, except for the black tuft at the tip of its tail, its black ears and paws, and the remarkable black swirls that encircled itseyes.
