Page 100 of Adversary to the Villain

Keeley stiffened at the signs of pain coming from the old woman. “Should I get a frozen pack from the kitchens?”

Mo smiled. “And some tea for the nerves if it’s not too much trouble?”

Keeley was already off, Gideon following behind her. “Wait. I’ll help.”

“Goody” was the last thing Alexander heard before his focus refixed on the woman before them.

“Why were you attacked?” Alexander asked, unable to stop himself. It was the first time he hadn’t spoken with intention. Other than to the enchantress-in-training.

A mistake, judging by the uncomfortable stares.

Mo, however, chuckled, her glasses falling off her face and hanging on the beaded chain about her neck. “A library is a place of refuge. A place where one can be anyone. Where knowledge and empathy collide.” She gave Alexander a pointed look. “To a man like Benedict, such things are more of a threat than any weapon.”

True.

“It was this passage. The one the book of Rennedawn revealed.” Blade flipped the book open, pointing to the page with the same words.

Rebecka came up beside him to peer at the text. “What does this prove? Other than plagiarism.”

Alexander held out his hand. “May I see?” he asked with gentle politeness, and Blade handed it over without question. When Alexander peered down at the page, the illustration beside it made gooseflesh rise on his skin.

A depiction, one in colorful shards of stained glass. A faceless man and a faceless woman, reaching for each other in a field of flowers, their bodies positioned as if they were running while light beamed around them. But Alexander was fixated on their hands almost touching, just out of reach.

The sadness coursing through him was instant and overwhelming, like this moment was happening tohim. It was the astounding phenomenon of a book. How could a heart possibly break for someone it had never met?

And yet.

“Could it have been one of the windows in the manor? Before the boss had them rearranged into murderous images?” Becky asked.

“Alexander’s been here the longest.” Tatianna pointed to the page and looked at Kingsley. “Is this one of the windows in the manor, Alexander?”

Alexander gave the page another long perusal, taking in every detail with careful attention. He told the truth when he looked up and said with strain, “Not in the manor.” He winced.

And without cause or warning, his body transformed, his limbs shrinking rapidly and uncomfortably until his view of the world became much shorter, everything else doubling and then tripling in size.

He was a frog again.

He etched a word quickly on a sign.

Ugh

“I’m sorry.” Clare winced, picking him up and away from the discarded clothes, then plopping him on a chair. “Think human. Think human,” she chanted like a fan at a sporting arena.

“Mayhaps if he starts thinking as a frog when he is human.” Mo offered the vague advice with a raspy chuckle, then returned her attention to the children’s book, sitting taller. “If it’s a passage from the book of Rennedawn and you do indeed possess a copy, you should compare them.”

“I have it!” Lyssa slid into the room with the book in her hands, and Alexander coughed a laugh into his webbed front foot. Had she been waiting in the wings to spring in on cue?

He admired her patience. “How did you get it out of the safe?” Blade asked.

Lyssa blinked. “I stole Trystan’s keys.”

Rebecka was unamused. “We need to get your sticky fingers under control, you kleptomaniac.”

“Blossom told me to.” Lyssa held up the snail, very serious.

Blade was beside her, giving Lyssa a subtle thumbs-up. “I believe her. The snail’s untrustworthy.”

Lyssa grinned, opening the book to the cover page and walking it toward Mo. But she froze.