Accomplice to the Villain (Assistant and the Villain, #3)(93)

Trystan glared. “What. Caveat.”

Fowler, despite his eccentricities, looked a tad meek. “Unfortunately, a few years back, I broke the wand in two. I was told it could work half as well with one part, and I always preferred it as decoration. So I thought it kind to give it as a gift. I melted the glass down and had it made into a lovely pair of slippers!”

Tatianna sighed. “Oh no.”

Fowler chuckled nervously. “I’m afraid for the wand to work…you’ll need to retrieve the glass slippers. It must be whole to work at its full magic.”

Evie cut in gently, hesitant to ask, “And who has them, Lord Fowler?”

Fowler brightened. “This is the good part! Fortunately, it was given to someone you know well! The Villain’s mother, Amara Maverine.”

Clare froze, as did Trystan.

Fowler dimmed. “Or perhaps…not so fortunate?”

Amara Maverine. Splendid. As if they didn’t have enough sinister characters to deal with, now they had the demons of her boss’s past cropping up like weeds.

Trystan barked to a guard, “I need a raven to send a message. Now.” The guard scrambled to comply.

Fowler toed the dirt, looking the smallest smidge guilty. “I’ll help make any arrangements to aid your journey.”

“That was very kind, Lord Fowler,” Evie said.

“He kidnapped us,” Trystan repeated back to her.

“I didn’t mean that part.” She huffed, rolling her eyes so hard her whole body turned away.

“And for you, my dear girl.” Lord Fowler came forward, with all the charm and charisma of a man who didn’t seem as if he’d been seconds away from taking his last breath. Evie felt a soft fabric slide into her hands. “I have something fit for a villainess of your caliber.”

Villainess.

There were lock mechanisms inside her in constant rotation, and at that word, it was as if every single one found their perfect fit at the same moment, steadying her in a way she’d never experienced before. The fabric crushed between her fingers, soft and the color of the deepest, darkest parts of Trystan’s eyes.

“Oooh, Villainess Evie?” Tatianna sidled up next to her, unfolding the fabric and holding the short traveling dress against Evie’s chest, whistling. “Another promotion, you lucky duck! I’ve been with the boss for six years, and I’ve never been promoted!”

“Tati, you’re the one and only healer in the office. You started at the highest possible position for your field and have remained so since,” Trystan said, eyeing the garment Fowler had given her like it was a ticking time bomb.

Tatianna slumped against Evie, pretending to swoon with a hand to her forehead. “Oh, my stars, how exciting!” Tati batted her eyelashes at Trystan, causing Evie to giggle. “Can I retire, then?”

He just stared at the healer. “I hate you.”

Evie snorted before slipping behind one of the larger trees to change into her new attire. The fabric was clearly of the highest quality as it slid smoothly over her skin, the short pants beneath a delightful surprise for traveling. “Look!” she yelled as she ran back to the group, the shoes Fowler had given her like little clouds against her soles.

All eyes fell to her, including Fowler’s, who’d remained to witness the spectacle that was The Villain’s office staff. She pulled up the skirt, and Trystan gripped her wrist to stop her. “What are you doing?”

She pulled free and showed them. “Little pants!” Her smile faded when she looked back up to see the boss with his hands clapped over his eyes.

He peeked through when her words registered and cleared his throat, gesturing to them like he was prepared to say something particularly profound. “Nice…uh, pantaloons.”

Smooth, man.

Fowler’s laugh was halted by Trystan’s magic cutting across his cheek as a fist would.

Clare moved to help Evie do up the buttons of the sewed-in bodice at her back. The morning breeze chilled her skin as Clare buttoned up the open fabric. “So that’s it, Lord Fowler? We’re permitted to go on our way?”

Fowler gestured to the horses, then to the clearing beyond. “Free to go! You can even cut through Phoenix Village, since you’re heading south.”

Tatianna frowned. “Evie’s and The Villain’s faces are well-known now to Rennedawn. We can’t risk being recognized.”

Fowler waved a hand. “Oh, I’m certain the villagers won’t notice. You’ll be perfectly safe.”

“And how can you be certain of that?” Clare asked.

Fowler shrugged. “Could be because it’s cloudy. People notice things less when the sun isn’t shining.”

A horrid sound vibrated the ground beneath them, and Evie’s hands went to her ears. “What was that?”

A puppy?

Another loud roar.

A teething puppy?

“Oh, the purple phoenix; the villagers worship it, and it protects them in turn, but I’m afraid with the waning magic it’s become a teensy bit violent.” Fowler said this with a careless shrug that infuriated Evie.

“And you’re not doing anything to help them?” Evie gestured toward the sound and the village path. “This is your land! Those people are your responsibility.”

Fowler merely folded his arms and leaned against the large trunk that held his home. “I’m nobility, my dear. My only responsibility is to be as indulgent as possible, accomplish one singular good deed a month, and receive years’ worth of praise for it.” He winked. “I already did my good deed for the month by letting you depart with that magic wand. Perhaps in another twenty-nine days.”