Page 4 of Apprentice to the Villain

“A true accomplishment, my king.” The knight squinted to fake a smile. “Congratulations.”

The king stood with a flourish, his fur-lined cape flying behind him as he tossed a book from his desk onto the small tea table in front of the knight. It jarred the wood, rattling the silver chalices with mere drops of wine left inside. He could use a cup. Or several.

“It is only the beginning of a new era for Rennedawn.”

The knight’s brows shot to his hairline. That sounded…ominous.

The king kept speaking. “Presenting Evie Sage as the perfect victim will solidify the kingdom’s hatred for The Villain. Finally, proof of all his wrongdoings—” He gestured to the book, the cover an opulent array of shimmering colors.“Rennedawn’s Story.”

The children’s fable?Rennedawn’s Storywas the epic tale of how Rennedawn came to be and the enchanted rhyme that would save its fading magic, supposedly handed down by the gods themselves—though more often heard from the mouthsof parents chastising children. Each of the magical kingdoms on the continent of Myrtalia held its own origin story, many equally outlandish or nonsensical. The knight had never seen a published version of Rennedawn’s before today, but the colorful cover did little to proclaim the text’s legitimacy. Was the king having trouble differentiating between fiction and truth?

Perhaps his crown is a little too tight.

Though there were whispers, rumors, that Rennedawn had truly begun to fade into the earth. If the story were true…

Could there be merit to those rumors?

The king sighed. “I’m afraid that to ensure we remain the strongest of the magical kingdoms, I need you to do me a great favor.”

The king had asked the knight formanygreat favors, and every time, without fail, his reply was, “Yes, my king.”

“I need you to go to the Sage family home and retrieve Nura Sage’s letters. Return them promptly by the day’s end.”

The knight proceeded cautiously. “Whatever His Majesty commands. But might I ask what need you have of them?”

“I’d been hopeful that the older Sage girl might possess the same powers as her mother, but despite Griffin’s best efforts, the girl was useless.” Benedict tapped his chin and gave a mock frown. “Well, uselessalive.”The knight remained impassive.“In any event, the letters will help us find Nura’s location. She hasn’t been seen in years.”

The knight’s voice barely leveled above a whisper. “And the younger Sage girl?”

The king waved a hand. “As good as dead. Taken by The Villain’s horde.”

The cloying heat had become so suffocating, the knight felt dizzy. “And what of the guvres, sire? The venom of one of their lets? I was of the understanding you need them, too. Starlight and Fate, or something to that effect?”

A vein pulsed in the king’s forehead, but his face remained blank. He reached down, retrieved the book, and placed it gently in a crystal-paneled case by the windows. His clear, almost melodic baritone rattled the walls with his disdain.

“Fortunately, I have in my possession just the man to help with that.”

The knight knew who he meant, but a shiver still cooled the heat in his blood.

The Villain.

Chapter 2

The Villain

The Villain didn’t miss light. He missed color.

Trystan’s eyes drew upward, head ringing against the wails of the other prisoners trapped with him in the dark. The stone beneath his palms was rough against his clammy skin, the only thing grounding him through the unending blackness. It was like death, the dark. Death without peace, a dark without light—the pain in his limbs was the only indicator that he was alive.

His heart rate climbed; he couldn’t breathe. There were no bars to hold on to. No power to summon, like his mist had been walled in, trapped like him. But he could feel it twisting and curling inside him. It begged for freedom—that made two of them.

“Enough.” He stumbled, and his shoulder landed blessedly against a bumpy, uneven surface. Brick. Thank the gods. There was a wall, its sturdy weight comforting against his greatest fear: the dark. His blistered hands followed its curve around and around, but there was no end in sight. Where was the godsdamn door?

He halted to take a deep inhale.Breathe, Trystan. He had to get out of there, had to find Sage. Evie—Otto had Evie, was hurting—

No. He couldn’t focus on that now. Not yet.

He kept following the wall, feeling from top to bottom. Movinghimself in an endless mind-altering loop. For minutes? Hours? He didn’t know.