Instead, the time only seemed to give her more opportunities to realize just how much Evariste had done for her—not just as a mentor but as a friend—and how poorly she had valuedit.
Angelique considered draping herself over Pegasus’ neck—which would save her the trouble of trying to stay upright, even if it would be a bit bumpy. She was only vaguely aware that Pegasus trailed after the sparkle as it roamed across an open plain, taking them in the direction of a pocket oftrees.
Enough. I’m just tired and feeling sorry for myself. What’s important is Stil. If his message is right and something is after him, this is veryserious.
Pegasus snorted, and a comet blazed across the galactic swirls in hiscoat.
Angelique cautiously peered through the darkness, spotting tiny flames in the distance: campfires. There were at least six or seven fires—which meant it was not Stil’s camp or even the camp of a tiny band oftravelers.
She dug her spyglass out of her saddlebag and fitted it to her eye. It took a moment to focus on the fires, but when she did, the flickering flames illuminated the faces and clothes of the men crowded around theflames.
Most of them wore drab gray cloaks—though a few had cloaks of a softer blue hue—but all of them had the Verglas Insignia of a reindeer in front of a silver snowflake emblazoned on theback.
“Verglas soldiers,” Angelique said for Pegasus’ benefit—though she was almost certain the constellation didn’t care. “But why are they this far south? There are only a few villages in this area, and though the border it shares with Loire is near, the two countries have had a civil relationship for centuries. And they can’t be Stil’s followers—he mentioned black magic at work, notsoldiers.”
Angelique returned her spyglass to her saddlebag. Her eyes flickered back and forth between the fires and the tipsy light of her spell, which now lingered at thetreeline.
“Stil comes first,” Angelique decided. “Besides, given King Torgen’s mad actions last year, there’s no guarantee what the soldiers are herefor.”
Pegasus trotted off toward the forest, snow crunching—and melting—under hishooves.
Angelique shivered. King Torgen had always been a little mad, but last year he had stretched to new lows by nearly killing the Arcainian princes and princess who had fled to Verglas to escape the witch queen who had cursed the princes to take on the appearance and mind ofswans.
Just thinking of him made Angelique’s flesh prickle, for the king’s mad ways had been a severe punishment to his people for some yearsnow.
But magic users are powerless to help. We can’t meddle with country politics—it’s not our place, and it would set a dangerousprecedence.
She blinked when Pegasus trotted at the edge of the forest, but the bobbing light wove around a few of the trees. She craned her neck to watch the light, and nearly tumbled over the constellation’s shoulder for hertrouble.
She corrected herself and almost laughed.Evariste always warned me to hold on when Pegasus is galloping. He’d laugh outright at me if I told him I almost fell off when Pegasus was at a merejog!
She grinned, but after a moment passed, the thought stopped being funny and was just another bitterreminder.
After a few more minutes of riding, Pegasus curved into the forest, following the sparkle of the spell until it stopped just over a terrible, ramshackletent.
Picketed outside was an ornery donkey who opened his eyes at Pegasus’approach.
Angelique slipped off her mount—pausing to sag against his warm shoulder—then greeted the donkey. “Hello, PrickerPatch.”
The donkey—which was horse-sized and had been a gift to Stil from Evariste when the craftmage graduated from Luxi-Domus—smacked its lips twice, then turned its head away from her in a clear dismissal. Angelique smiled wryly and turned back toPegasus.
“Thanks for the ride.” She stifled a yawn with her hand. “I’ll stay here for the night, so you can return to the sky if youwant.”
Pegasus was motionless, but a star on his foreheadflared.
Angelique waved him off. “I’ll be fine. I’ll check in with Stil and then fall face-first into bed.Enjoy.”
She paused for a few moments at the tent entrance to give Stil’s magic a chance to recognize her, then pushed the cloth flapopen.
Instead of showing the battered inside of the tent, the flap opened up into a beautiful parlor with a cheerful fire, plush cushions, and several comfortablecouches.
Pleasantly, Stil was in the parlor. Surprisingly, he was not alone. Rather, he appeared to be chasing a young lady around asettee.
The female in question had dark brown hair that ended in curls and was pushed out of her face with a blue headband. Though there was a slight air of shock to her expression, the icy gray-blue hue of her eyes spoke of a certain kind of ageless wisdom—even as she chucked a pillow atRumpelstiltskin.
“I must say.” Stil ducked the pillow and frowned a little. “I pictured many reactions when I confessed my love to you. Rage was not one ofthem.”
Angelique gaped.Confess hisloveto her?!Did I push myself so far into exhaustion that I’m experiencing auditoryhallucinations?
