Page 145 of Adversary to the Villain

“There is none,” Alexander murmured, knowing he’d led them to a dead end.

Trystan’s fist was the least of what he’d been prepared for, but the hit knocked him to the ground nonetheless. Malcolm shoved his brother back, and Clare kneeled beside Alexander, hands hovering. “There is, actually.”

“Was that my cue?” a voice called, hidden in one of the tallest trees above.

“It was, Lord Fowler.” Trystan moved away from the clearing as Lord Fowler’s flying contraption drifted in. The eccentric man who’d gotten his kicks by kidnapping them at his theme party not so very long ago landed gently on the ground. “You have the window?”

“Safely tucked away,” Lord Fowler confirmed, saluting, his thick mustache moving with his assurance.

“Trystan, I’m begging you,” Alexander pleaded with his oldest friend, missing the days he needed but one word to express himself. “The curse must happen. Rennedawn must break in every way before it becomes whole again—just like that window. Fulfilling the prophecy at this stage is putting a small bandage on a free-flowing stab wound.”

“How do you know that?” Tatianna asked. “Benedict? He’s a liar, Alexander.”

He wasn’t lying about this. Alexander knew it with certainty. “On this point, he has no need to lie. If he believed the prophecy would gift him Rennedawn, don’t you think he’d be doing everything in his power to fulfill it himself instead of sabotaging your efforts?”

Trystan appeared to be contemplating his words, tilting his head. “If this was all some grand scheme to save us, why would you keep it a secret? Why would you help him at all?”

Alexander shut his eyes tight. “I knew someone had to do the difficult thing in order to save us all. Someone had to be the one to make the choice no one would want to make. What did it matter if it was me?” His voice grew quieter. “I was just the frog.”

“You were always far more than that.” Clare pressed her lips together until they were colorless.

“The prophecy will work,” Trystan said. “You’re wrong.”

Alexander choked on his next sentence. “I hope that I am.”

“We’ve got to go, Villain.” Lord Fowler addressed Trystan, assisting Tatianna, Clare, and Malcolm inside. “Room for two more aboard.”

Evie stood between them. “We— No, we can’t leave.”

“I won’t come.” Alexander expected another strike when Trystan moved toward him, but instead, his oldest friend clapped him in a hug. “What—what are you doing?”

“A very wise woman once told me that much could be solved with a hug. I am—” He breathed in. “I am so angry at you. But when you realize that Benedict played you, we’ll be waiting for you—at home.” He blinked furiously, rubbing the back of his arm over his eyes.

Alexander didn’t bother to hide the tears burning in his own eyes as he watched his best friend leave with the woman he loved. The basket lifted off, and he tracked the movement, waiting until they were too high. Too far away to see what he’d pulled out of Trystan’s pocket.

“Prince Alexander?” Benedict appeared at his shoulder. “Were you successful?”

He didn’t look at the king, knowing his hatred would be far too easy to see. Instead, he handed it over.

The key.

The anchor.

It was really over now.

And he’d never forgive himself.

Chapter 76

Gideon

Gideon still recalled his first day as a Valiant Guard. The vow he’d made to protect the innocent. He might no longer be a knight, but that vow still stood.

“Where did that spear come from?” Gideon yelled, his anger palpable, so tangible he could almost taste it in the air around him.

Blade and Rebecka rushed to the male guvre. Fergus. The animal had a name. And a soul. And a deadly spear sticking through his belly—one that bore Benedict’s emblem.

Clarke and Cassandra surrounded him. Lulu let out a cry when she leaned down to touch her snout to Fergus’s barely moving chest, his pitiful sighs of pain. Fate let out a shriek like nothing Gideon had ever heard. A sound that would haunt him.