Page 36 of Adversary to the Villain

Gideon chuckled into his hand. “Your predictability is very prince-like—well done.”

Edwin rubbed a hand over his eyes, while Trystan casually kicked the leg of Gideon’s chair, sending the man knocking into the table. “In the morning, Becky and Blade will be setting a trap to capture the guvres, and when they’re successful, we will need to expedite enacting the prophecy before—”

He paused. The curse was a threat, not an absolute, and in that vein, he’d have to share it with as few people as possible. Lest it cause a surge of panic.

But urgency was sorely needed. “Before Benedict does something reckless,” he finished vaguely.

Gideon had righted himself, and he was now frowning as he walked over to the cauldron brew, lifting the ladle and dumping it into one of the spare mugs. Blowing out a breath, he stared down at the mixture, then swallowed it with wincing gulps. “All well and good. Only one problem. We don’t knowhowto enact the prophecy.”

Lyssa chose that moment to enter the kitchens. “Might you just put all the ingredients of the prophecy in a bowl and stir them up like cake batter?”

Trystan believed this little girl was a genius. Regardless of the unlikely suggestion. “I’m afraid that wouldn’t work, Little Villain.”

“Whisking, then.” Lyssa nodded succinctly, heading for a drawer. “I usually do it with a fork.”

Trystan’s pulse jumped, prophecies forgotten. “Not when you’re making pastry, I hope.”

Lyssa ignored him, reaching for the utensil drawer, and Trystan stood, sputtering, “Y-You cannot get the same airiness in a pastry with a fork, Lyssa! That is outrageous.”

“Were we not just speaking of the end of Rennedawn?” Gideon asked with a half grin, then sobered when Lyssa came up beside him. “You don’t findthatoutrageous?”

Of course he did. Trystan could be effectively outraged at all ranges of injustices and threats to common decency. It didn’t make him any less villainous.

“I find you treading on my last nerve,” Trystan grumbled, wordlessly replacing the fork in Lyssa’s hand with a whisk, ignoring her pout. “I need you to figure out how we activate the prophecy—or end it, I suppose. I’m—I’m not certain how it happens.”

“First time breaking a prophecy?” Gideon clucked sympathetically.

“It won’t be my first time breaking a skull,” Trystan growled, then remembered Lyssa staring at him with widened eyes, her mouth forming a tiny circle.

“Can you do it with your fists?” Lyssa whispered almost immediately, sounding far too awed for comfort. “Or must you use a blunt object?”

“Real nice, Maverine.” Gideon patted him on the back, and he had a daydream of breaking that hand. It was a tranquil thought. Peaceful, even. “It’s a ‘storybook prophecy.’ It would be enacted on a day that holds some sort of significance to the kingdom.”

“Hallows’ Eve? It’s two months from now,” Trystan whispered. The destiny monster’s decree. Benedict and the destiny monster wanted to give them every reason to hope. They were that sure they’d succeed.

It was just as well. Trystan was just as sure his enemies would fail.

Trystan might be made to be Evangelina’s undoing, but there would never be an undoing ofthem. Over Benedict’s rotting corpse. A tranquil thought.

“A holiday? You don’t believe that’s too obvious?” Gideon’s brows rose.

“The date already holds significance and matches with the destiny monster’s timeline,” Trystan said dismissively, knowing in his gut this was the correct course.

“My Joseph always said the times of day when magic is at its most powerful in Rennedawn come in threes. The early-morning sunrise, when the sun strikes highest at noon, and when it turns Rennedawn to gold at sunset.” Edwin patted Lyssa’s head, hoisting her up onto the low stool so she could whisk the vibrant purple cookie batter she had just concocted.

“You’re all missing the most important question,” Lyssa said lightly, her full attention on the bowl in front of her. “Wheresunlight beams unvarnished. Do any of you know where that is?”

“I don’t suppose you do?” Trystan asked lowly, with just a smidgen of hope.

Lyssa rolled her eyes. “I apparently don’t even know how to stir properly.” She went twice the speed against the bowl, and Trystan took a step away for his own safety.

He’d be paying for that later.

“Every answer lies in Rennedawn’s storybook,” Edwin pointed out after a moment of collective silence, all knowing what must be done. And quickly. “It will be within the pages.”

Gideon winced, likely knowing what was coming for him. “We can’t get by without the book any longer.”

No. They couldn’t.