Trial of Magic (The Fairy Tale Enchantress #4) - K. M. Shea Page 0,3

fearful leaders of the Veneno Conclave hid in their fortress and refused to dispatch more mages to help.

They needed Evariste. She needed him!

And now they were back to no leads and no hope of finding him.

Why does this keep happening? No matter what I do, I can’t seem to save him.

A dangerous sort of numb feeling spread through Angelique’s extremities. Vaguely, she wondered if she could just stay collapsed on the side of the road. No matter how she fought, she couldn’t free Evariste. Did any of it really matter anymore? Who would even care that she was gone?

Scratch that. As soon as a royal family needed something done, they’d miss me—or rather, they’d miss using me as their personal mage.

Angelique clenched her eyes shut as the heavy sensation of helplessness threatened to drown her.

With her face mashed into the ground as it was, she felt the faint thud of horse hooves before she heard the animal.

She knew it wasn’t Pegasus—the strides were too small and light.

I’ll just lie here. They’ll pass by without noticing me. No one sees me when I need help, only when they need my aid.

Angelique listlessly lay spread out, her eyes still closed as the horse slowed to a trot. The clip-clop of its hooves grew louder as it rounded the bend in the road.

She waited for the sound to pass her and move along, but the horse abruptly stopped, and there was a thud of someone—the rider—landing on the ground.

“Hail there!” The rider was a woman—her voice pleasant and friendly.

I guess I’m not going to get ignored after all. What are the chances the horse—or rider—is cursed?

Angelique reluctantly pushed herself to her knees.

“Are you all right, grandmother?” The rider asked as she jogged closer.

Confused by the title, Angelique peered up at the rider as she tugged the hood off, releasing her thick mess of hair that was tamed only by the use of magic. She felt her magic to make sure the illusion that made her eyes appear blue instead of their natural—and unsettling—silver color was working, and squinted up at the rider. “Grandmother?”

The rider skidded to a stop a few steps short of Angelique and seamlessly stepped into a bow. “My apology. Please forgive me for my grievous mistake.”

The rider was quite pretty with her blonde hair pulled back in an orderly braid, kind eyes, and lips that were quick to form a smile.

Her straight posture said she’d received some kind of combat training—Angelique, a recipient of similar training, could recognize the stance anywhere—and she was quite tall in her suede boots and clothes—including trousers—that were the same muted browns and greens as the forest.

The rider peered anxiously at Angelique, obviously concerned she had offended her.

Still fighting off some of her disappointment in losing the one lead she had, Angelique chose to plop in the dead leaves rather than stand and look demure as her station would usually require. “Your guess is not far off. I feel about as well as an infirm old woman.”

“Are you injured?” The rider scanned her, searching for injuries. “You weren’t attacked, were you?”

Angelique impatiently pushed back the front panel of her cloak—it had belonged to Stil, originally, and he’d always gone for flashy stuff, which Angelique was coming to learn didn’t necessarily mean practical and easy to wear. “No, no. I’m fine. I was just investigating the woods and happened to trip,” she lied. She stood up and flicked a few dead leaves off her cloak and figured she better round her story out with a truth. “It’s embarrassing to admit, but I merely felt too weary to rise.”

“I am glad to hear you are unharmed.” The rider spoke with such sincerity, Angelique was glad she’d told half the truth, even if it tarnished her image as an elegant enchantress. “If you’ll excuse my prying, you mentioned an investigation?”

Angelique sighed and let her shoulders stoop as she wondered how much she should reveal, and what new darkness the rider would tell her about that she’d be expected to fix. “Yes. I’m looking into a situation here in Farset that might involve dark magic.”

The rider nodded crisply, unshaken as she stood at attention. “I see. How can I help?”

Her response was so contrary to what Angelique expected, she almost bulged her eyes, but managed to forcibly blink instead. “I beg your pardon?”

The rider slightly tilted her head, and the warmth in her kind eyes was almost more than Angelique could bear. “You are obviously on a mission of