Page 71 of Adversary to the Villain

She was relieved that the pinch in her chest wasn’t there, just contentment. “It’s simple.” Fee smiled with satisfaction, and Evie’s contentment ran screaming from the room. “You merely need to take the key from my hand.”

“I feel like it’s not going to be that easy,” she mumbled to Trystan.

“From the height I stand.”

“Yeah, that sounds right.” Evie pinched her temples, sighing when Fee pulled out the key. It was an unassuming thing, painted white, with detailing on it she couldn’t quite make out from this far down. “Do you think climbing on Greta’s roof is cheating?” she asked Trystan, but whatever his response might have been was interrupted by a streak of light.

Just a flash of something gleaming in the moonlight—landing right in Fee’s palm. A shooting star?

But it wasn’t a star at all.

“Grab it, Kingsley!” Malcolm’s voice carried in from the trees, his hand overextended like he’d just tossed a ball.

Or rather…a frog.

Alexander Kingsley, in all his webbed-foot glory, took the key in his mouth and leaped just before Fee’s fingers could close around him, landing perfectly atop his horse. Evie wondered how something so small and green could maintain such an air of gallant charm.

“You cheated!” Fee boomed, stomping her foot and shaking the ground.

“Time to go.” Trystan grabbed her hand, sprinting for Malcolm, who appeared ragged from gathering the animals. They mounted and broke into a sprint, Fee’s voice booming behind them.

Riding to their home. Their family.

Everything had gone exactly right.

Which made Evie’s stomach bottom out.

Because that usually meant something very wrong was not too far behind.

Chapter 33

Kingsley

Alexander had to admit, even solely to himself, that there were benefits to being an amphibian.

Not as many as being human, mind you, but they existed. For example, if there was something odd happening within the manor, he was always the first to know. He went unobserved so often, he’d begun to treat it like an art form.

When you were human, everyone took note of what you were doing and where you were.

It didn’t serve with Alexander’s purposes. But there really wasn’t a price to be put on usable thumbs.

“There you are, Lyssa!” Evie called with relief, running toward her sister in the empty office space. “I thought surely you’d be in the kitchens, but Edwin said you hadn’t been down.” Evie threw her arms around the little girl. “I was worried you hadn’t returned.”

Lyssa’s small hands squeezed Evie back tightly. “Me? You’ve been gone all day! Where were you?”

“I almost got turned into soup and insulted a giant.” Evie released her sister to give her a serious stare.

“I hate when that happens,” Lyssa replied somberly.

“Don’t leave us in suspense, little villain.” Trystan ushered them to a corner lit with several torches. “Were you successful? Do we have the adult guvres on the premises?”

Lyssa’s face went from light and carefree to guarded and flighty.

An expression that, in Alexander’s experience, was prelude to chaotic entertainment. Especially when a Sage was involved.

Trystan’s eyes softened at the little girl’s nervousness. “If we don’t, there is no consequence to you—nor would there ever be.”

Lyssa blinked, wide-eyed, like the thought hadn’t even occurred to her. “I know. I’m just not sure how to answer you. If we could just find the others…”