Accomplice to the Villain (Assistant and the Villain, #3)(118)

Trystan hit her lightly on the back.

“The letters?” Trystan prodded.

“Clare and I have been corresponding for months. She didn’t say?” Amara looked far too content at the development. “She’s been kind enough to keep me apprised of your movements.”

Tatianna stood so fast, she knocked over two glasses, looking ill. “Excuse me.”

“Tatianna, wait!” Clare stood but was tugged down by her mother.

“Let her go, Clarissa. Do not make a spectacle of yourself.”

Clare frowned, watching the door with a desperate longing that knocked at Evie’s heart like a lightning strike. “I thought if I explained what we were doing, Mother might be more willing to aid our cause. I was trying to fix things, Trystan, I swear. I thought she might forgive you if I just explained.”

Trystan sighed. “That would only work, Clare, if our mother was capable of forgiveness.”

Amara went rigid. “I hired the enchantress to remove Trystan from this earth when I learned of the darkness that took him. To spare you, Trystan. It was Clare who went behind my back, hiring the same enchantress to merely pretend to kill you. To fool me. Alexander got in the way, and for it, he is now this—but that had nothing to do with me. I was kind enough to relay his death to his parents, and if that wasn’t enough, I also spared the enchantress’s young daughter the wrath of the southern kingdom. As an act of charity. I have been generous.”

Evie was about to be incredibly generous with something heavy against Amara’s head.

“And in the spirit of generosity, I will tell you that you will not be able to enter the southern kingdom without an enchantress to wear the glass slippers and use the wand. Without both, the magical objects are essentially useless.”

“I don’t think she’s telling us this in the spirit of generosity,” Evie whispered to Trystan, who was already pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

Trystan pushed his hand down, a. hard resolve in his eyes. “You’re saying that to get to the enchantress, we need the enchantress? We’ve spent all this time on a wild goose chase?”

“Not exactly,” Arthur said, returning to the group and sitting beside Amara. “The barrier isn’t like Alexander’s curse. Curses may only be reversed by the enchantress who cast them in the first place. But the wand itself can be used by any enchantress’s magical fingerprint.”

Arthur continued, steepling his fingers. “I was permitted into the southern kingdom last week to heal the enchantress before her execution. The king and queen want her to be in perfect health when they put her to death.” Arthur rubbed at the dark-purple bruising under his eyes, everything about him emitting exhaustion. “The easiest way to get to her would be through me. I’d be willing to escort you to the palace, though we can’t have the guards at the kingdom’s entrance notify the king and queen of my presence too soon—they’ll grow suspicious. You’ll need someone to wield the wand and wear the slippers to get in through the side entrance, to lower the enchantments there without notice.”

“And how are we supposed to do that?” Trystan asked flatly.

Amara clapped, a sinister smile on her face. “I suppose it’s time to propose my deal, then.”

“Your deal?” Evie asked, folding her arms defensively.

But Amara was unfazed. “You did not honestly think I would help my reprobate children for nothing? After all they’ve stolen from me?”

Trystan and Clare both flinched. Evie’s hand started to rise, and Kingsley leaped atop it, holding it against the seat cushions.

Breathe.

She did. It helped very little.

“What do you want?” Evie asked.

“Bring the enchantress here. To me.” Amara folded her hands. “And to prove my good faith, I’ll send along someone who can use the wand and wear the slippers.”

“Who?” Trystan asked cautiously.

Amara rose and sailed into the kitchen, returning moments later with Winnifred dragging behind her. The girl shrank back, shyly slumping her shoulders. “I give you: the enchantress’s next of kin. An amateur enchantress, to be sure, but she’ll do for your purposes.”

Winnifred looked petrified. “Mistress Maverine. What are you doing?”

“You’ve already become acquainted with the enchantress Belinda Erodina’s daughter. Winnifred?”

Amara shoved Winnifred until the young woman fell to her knees, a random burst of magic falling off her fingers and turning the couch pink.

“I-I’m so sorry,” Winnifred whispered, clutching her hands to her chest. Evie and Trystan both moved to help her stand.

“I took her in after her mother was captured.” Amara laughed lifelessly. “I’m not a monster.”

No, Evie thought.

Amara Maverine was something much, much worse.





Chapter 72


Becky


Flying on a guvre went as well as Becky might have predicted. Terrifying and absolutely dangerous. “Are you all right?” she yelled to Lyssa over the piercing wind whipping through their hair.

Lyssa didn’t speak, just nodded, her bravery burned out. All that remained was the fear that all children had when control was gone and the future was uncertain, the times when they turned to an adult, trusting they’d know what to do.