Page 35 of Adversary to the Villain

Trystan did the only thing they could do under such circumstances.

He laughed.

It was so lovely that she smiled, watching him with an embarrassing degree of attentiveness.

“We’ll figure out how to stop this, Sage,” Trystan assured, and the softness in it made her want to melt into him. “We always do.”

Though she kept her smile plastered to her face, inwardly, she frowned, as an overwhelmingly intrusive thought crept in.

A thought that whispered to her…that this time, they wouldn’t.

Chapter 16

Trystan

“You need not tell me if it’s too painful to think of, Edwin. Sage is sending a raven for Lionel,” Trystan told the ogre the next morning, taking the cauldron brew gratefully. As he seated himself at the table, he allowed the aroma and warmth to soothe the gripping terror he’d felt last night watching Sage nearly walk over the parapet’s edge.

He’d been reluctant to leave her side, but they needed information on the supposed curse. And Lionel was the leading Curse Consultant in the kingdom.

And also—so fucking annoying.

But he’d relented when Evie had insisted.

His stomach still lurched at the image of her blank expression. One more step forward—and the destiny monster’s silver light would have enveloped her. Gods.

Being in love was making him sick.

Edwin shifted uncomfortably, pulling him back to the present. “It isn’t that, Mr. Trystan. I don’t mind thinking of Joseph very much. We were dear friends before he left the kingdom to continue his research.”

Ah, yes. The ogre Edwin had lived with for five years was a mere friend. Trystan had never asked what had happened between them that would make Joseph leave in such haste, never returning to their small fishing village. The man was a brilliant scholar on all magics, a Core Healer in his own right, but he didn’t practice and was impossible to nail down. Always on the move. Never settling.

In a way, Edwin hadn’t, either.

Yes.Friends.Trystan was beginning to despise the falsity of that word, but he wouldn’t be the one to correct Edwin. And he could hardly judge. He had the love of his life within his grasp and could think of no feasible way forward, no way to convince her that he wasn’t going anywhere, curse or no curse, save gluing his shoes to the ground.

“Let me see.” Edwin tapped his chin as he took the seat across from him, bringing with him a delicious-smelling pecan pie. “I suppose it was fifteen years ago or so. Hard to recount when they come and leave so quickly.” He smiled kindly at Trystan, cutting him a large slice, placing it onto the small plate in front of him. A light rain pattered against the window as Edwin said, “Joseph was the first ogre I’d seen since leaving culinary school, and he was brilliant. A scholar of all things relating to Rennedawn and the magical continent. Handsome as the king of the deadlands himself—”

Edwin cut himself off, blue cheeks deepening to indigo. “I apologize, Mr. Trystan. That’s hardly pertinent.”

“Not at all. It’s very pertinent to my visualization of events. Continue,” Trystan responded sternly, fighting for his life not to allow his lips to tip up.

Edwin spoke through bites of his own slice of pie. “He was delightfully shrewd in his theories of Rennedawn’s story. There were so many skeptics back then. You’ll recall none took the impending magical reckoning seriously before the Mystic Illness began to sweep the land, and then the waves of fading magic hit different areas of the kingdom…” Edwin shook his head, folding his large hands. “You know this, of course. Where was I?”

“His theories,” Trystan offered, taking a bracing sip of the brew with none of Sage’s usual sweetness added in.

“I don’t recall him ever speaking of land curses, but he did often say that when Rennedawn’s storybook prophecy nears its end, a wave of magic would come from the Lilac Sea.”

When the tides turn, all will be as it was,the prophecy had declared.

Wonderful. This was needed. He’d nearly relaxed.

“Might we opt for a seashell from the Lilac instead?” Gideon Sage’s voice carried in, along with the man himself. “You summoned?”

“Sit down, Gideon,” Trystan murmured with irrational anger. “I have a job for you.”

“A terrifying prospect, Maverine.” Gideon winced when Trystan stood, clasped a hand on the man’s shoulder, and shoved him down into the chair. “What’s this about?”

“Your sister.”