Page 54 of Apprentice to the Villain

She wasn’tjustanything, but he kept that confession behind his lips.

Markeith boomed, “Well, assistant to The Villain. Do you have the answer?”

“Give her a moment to think about it. You’re setting her up to fail,” Trystan said.

“I thought you told me”—her words were still slurred, her gaze drifting away toward a blue butterfly soaring beyond the bridge—“that you would never make the mistake of underestimating me.”

“Sage, you’re drunk as a pirate; I’m certain there are many things you feel you could do right now. Flying, perhaps.”

She brightened.

“No.”

Her bow-shaped red lips pulled down in a frown. “You’re no fun.”

Markeith cleared his throat. “The answer. Now.”

Trystan gripped Sage’s arm as she straightened her spine, but she speared him with a look so sharp and keen, it felt like a blade was running lightly over his sternum. She placed a hand right in the middle of his chest, feeling his heartbeat. “I know what the answer is.”

Trystan swallowed.

Reming scoffed. “Do you?”

She stumbled but righted herself, saying with a firmness that her body language didn’t reflect, “The answer is the truth.”

Trystan moved in front of Sage, gripping her shoulders to get a look at her face, because that was—

“Correct. Well done, Evangelina.” Ellia smiled warmly.

Tatianna shook her head in disbelief. “How did you know?”

Sage shrugged carelessly. “When you’ve been lied to so often, the truth becomes easier to discern.”

Markeith gestured to the bridge behind him. “You are welcome in the Heart Village, along with your friends.” A light shimmered above the archway. Tatianna gasped quietly, then followed Clare onto the curved stone surface toward the other side.

Sage pulled her hair out of its plait, fluffing it as she did so and tossing the ribbon into the air. “Thank you.” She stopped right next to Markeith, a magical being, looking bold and fearless. And piss drunk.

“You have a lovely family.” It wasn’t a haphazard comment; it was a genuine compliment. This was one of the most marvelous mysteries about Sage—that she so readily handed out praise but it was always sospecific. Like she found her favorite part of every person she came across and then presented it to them. It made him want to ask what she liked about him.

Markeith blinked at her, his green eyes going soft like he was questioning the random admiration. Sage squeezed his shoulder. “The truth,” she murmured, walking past him and the other creatures.

She kept going, and Trystan made to follow quickly—gods knew the kind of danger she’d find on her own. Tatianna and Clare were ahead of her already, but the duty of protecting her felt charged to him. A godsdamn problem, that.

But Ellia halted him. “You may enter the Heart Village, Villain. But you must leave your magic behind.”

His outrage was swift. “Absolutely not.”

Ellia calmly shook her head. “It will return as soon as you leave the village soil, but not before. I will not allow such destruction anywhere near our citizens.”

It could well be a trap. He wanted to scoff in her face and turn right around. Let them find another way in, past the magic wards that surrounded it. But then Sage stumbled. He watched closely as she giggled and stumbled again, this time looking to the sky and shaking her head with a light smile, glowing. Unafraid to laugh at herself, unafraid to look upon her missteps with anything but a brave sort of joy. She took each moment of her life with a natural good humor, no matter how painful, no matter how tragic. She trekked on with nothing but her will. No magic to protect her. Just faith and optimism and belief in her survival.

Being a cynic doesn’t make you wise. It makes you a coward.

His heart pinched at Sage’s accusation.

“Fine,” he chewed out. His magic had been finicky lately anyway; one less thing to be concerned about.

Ellia stepped aside, gesturing her sandy arm onward, but not before pointing a finger at him and threatening, “Do not cause any harm.”