A voice, which under different circumstances would grate at her, grounded her in its familiarity. “The parapet!”
Evie turned toward Becky, who’d swung the door to the outside open, waving her hands frantically for Evie to move.
And move Evie did.
She burst into a sprint and ran into the cool, open air, huffing a quiet “thank you” to the woman as she passed. Evie had to have been in some sort of adrenaline fog, because she thought she saw concern on Becky’s pinched face.
The heat of the summer sun hit the top of Evie’s head—the first time it had appeared from behind the clouds all morning. Her heart was racing, her skirts kicking up around her with each furious step. The device remained cool in her hands, despite her rising body temperature, the ticking a cruel reminder.
You want the ticking! she reminded herself. No ticking means you’re dead!
If she could just get to the end, she could send the device over the small rise at the end of the parapet. She could save the manor, or most of it, at least. More importantly, she could save the people inside.
Had the parapet always been this long? It felt like she wasn’t even close to the end. She pushed her legs to the brink and ran harder, watching her destination grow closer and closer. Still not fast enough, she impossibly pushed herself farther, nearly reaching the end when— No!
The stiletto heel of her boot snagged beneath a loose cement block, bending her ankle unnaturally as she stumbled.
Evie watched in horror as the bomb slipped from her fingers, sailing through the air. Watched it soar up, high, high enough that it skimmed the top of the stone rise, but it didn’t make it over. It clanged down, landing far too close to keep her from the blast.
“Oh gods,” Evie whispered, diving to remove her heel from the hole it was now wedged into. Her breathing was so short that her vision began to blur, the tips of her fingers beginning to bleed from scraping against the rough surface of the brick where the heel of her boot was stuck.
But it wasn’t budging. Realization hit like a cool mist. She turned toward the opposite end of the parapet, toward the doors at the other end.
This is it. She’d never make it in time.
She had forgotten to hug Lyssa before she sent her off to school that morning, had of course assumed she would get another chance. She’d yelled to her father that she loved him, but had he heard her? Did he know?
A different face flashed in her mind—her boss, The Villain. Evie couldn’t believe she was leaving him when he needed her most. Who would make him begrudgingly smile now?
As a lone tear ran down Evie’s face, she thought that must be the saddest thing of all.
Chapter 9
The Villain
A little while earlier…
Trystan pushed his way through the western side of Hickory Forest. There were rockier mountains in this part of the kingdom, so it was easy to get turned around.
Even easier to hide.
Or at least that was what Trystan had thought when he’d started storing his safe houses below the mossy forest floor. His Malevolent Guards had dug small hideouts at various checkpoints along the textured ground, keeping his most valuable possessions dispersed throughout all of them.
Most of them contained stolen shipments that were sent to the king from the neighboring kingdoms. All allies looking to “aid” the king in his ongoing battle with the “dark figure” who had appeared nearly ten years ago to sabotage King Benedict’s reign.
Trystan’s lips ticked up in a smile. He loved his job.
When he’d started doing this all those years ago, he couldn’t have imagined the empire he’d build. All the people who would work for him, help him toward his goal.
To the people of Rennedawn, that meant interfering with the kingdom’s economy, slowly but surely leaving him and the rest of the kingdom impoverished. For Trystan, it meant ensuring King Benedict never got what he wanted, no matter the cost.
His Malevolent Guards had gotten better and better at intercepting shipments containing weapons, liquor, and wares, but he still sought something bigger, something that would derail everything Benedict held dear…
He shoved a branch out of the way, leaving his horse tied to a tree closer to the bottom of the hill. His magic coiled beneath his skin, like it sensed the danger he was approaching.
He hadn’t wanted to, but he’d left in a hurry that morning. A missive had arrived by one of his spies, or ravens as they liked to call themselves, letting him know urgently that another vital safe house had been compromised.
The frustration roared through him as he shoved the hair off his forehead. He approached the hidden door slowly, freezing when he caught the silver glint of the Valiant Guards’ armor.