Accomplice to the Villain (Assistant and the Villain, #3)(130)

His father.

“Hello, Gideon.” Griffin Sage smiled. “I am happy to see you.”

“Where is Mother?” Gideon pulled at his restraints. “Where is Lyssa?”

Griffin frowned. “I’d hoped for a warmer greeting from my only son.”

“Untie me and hand me that fire poker. I’ll give you one.” Gideon spat at Griffin’s feet and expected his father to retaliate with a fist.

And he might have if Nura Sage, tied up across the room, didn’t call, “Griffin! Don’t! Do not touch him.”

“I’m not the one who knocked him out, Nura.” Griffin laughed, rubbing the medallion at his neck—it had been a gift to him from their mother.

“You said if I went with you and helped you escape the Malevolent Guard, you would leave our children in peace,” Nura explained weakly. “I’m sorry, Gideon. I was a fool.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, Mother.” Gideon’s heart sank at seeing Nura’s shaking form, but it was much more difficult to tamp down his anger at Griffin for making her that way.

Nura was unconvinced, eyes downcast to the floor. “The dragon escaped, as did the guvre with Rebecka and Lyssa. She’s safe.”

Gideon’s brows shot to his forehead. “Safe?”

“No matter.” Griffin waved a hand. “I need your mother’s aid. Come, Nura.” Griffin reached down for his wife, and she clenched her teeth, a sign of the fight his mother had left.

“I hope my starlight envelops me again, and this time, I hope it takes you with me.” She spat at Griffin’s twisted face. “I hope you turn to ash, Griffin. For all you’ve done to me, to our daughter.”

“What I did to our daughter?” Griffin laughed. “That’s a joke. What about what you did to Evie?”

Nura thrashed in her restraints, dark curls coming loose from their pins. “I never wanted what you did. You tricked me into it. You knew it was the only way I would agree to something so dangerous!”

Gideon interrupted, uncaring if it would get him killed. “What are we talking about? Because it’s rude to knock someone out and then also exclude them from the conversation.”

With careless violence, Griffin threw Gideon’s mother to the ground. “I am through with you all. Unfortunately, your mother carries the magic I need to fulfill my duties to the king, but don’t worry, Gideon.” Reaching one hand down, Gideon’s father placed a strange-looking flower before them. The stem was long, the petals white, and it appeared…two were missing.

The plant beamed, the light growing and expanding until it swallowed his mother.

“No!” Angry tears burned at the corners of Gideon’s vision.

Griffin smirked. “I’ll leave you with what’s left of her.”

The plant screamed.

And then so did Nura.





Chapter 81


Evie


“You have a lovely home,” Evie said, because honestly, everyone looked so somber, it was either give an out-of-place compliment or start dancing as strangely as possible.

The king and queen had aged into late adulthood with elegance and grace. Gray streaks were bound with jewels at Queen Brina’s hair, and there were soft lines in her cheeks and at the corners of her eyes. Places where the best and worst parts of your life left their mark.

“Yes,” Trystan added blandly. “My favorite room so far has been the one filled with people who want to kill us.”

Evie winced, shrugging at the soldiers with their weapons raised. “I know he sounds sarcastic, but he probably means that.”

A Lily Pad Knight ran right for Evie, causing her shoulder to tingle and her dagger to pulse underneath her skirt. She frowned. The dagger didn’t come right to her as it normally did. “Stop, if you please!” Evie held out her hand, and by some miracle—or perfectly executed delusion—the knight halted.

“Just hold on,” Evie ordered, hopping on one foot, trying to reach the harness at her thigh without pulling her skirt up too far. She’d ditched the pants that went below the skirt back at the barn because they’d been torn off and…ruined.

The entire room didn’t know what to do with the display. The dagger finally came free, and The Villain’s magic slithered away from it, like shadows receding in the light. “Got it!” Evie smiled brightly at the knight, who had lifted his helmet halfway up to stare at her, slack-jawed. Evie winced. “Sorry. You may run at me again. I’ll act surprised this time.”

The knight in question blew air out through his lips. “Uh, no. That’s all right.”

“Sage?”

“Yes, sir— Ahhh!” Evie yelped as the boss whipped out an arm, dragging her two inches closer as an arrow zipped past where she had just stood.

“Enough.” The king knocked his staff against the floor, and the ground rattled with it. “Bring in the enchantress.”

The enchantress?

“They’re helping us?” Evie asked, holding her dagger high when one of the knights came too close.

“No,” Winnie said hollowly. “No. They are not.”

Evie’s mother had told her many stories of enchantresses. Women who could cast spells and twine enchantments about the land, leaving joy and goodness in their wake. As she got older, the world’s opinion of them had not been as kind, but Evie never lost that vision in her mind.