Page 37 of Adversary to the Villain

“I’m afraid your shielding magic might be necessary. You can block any wards the king may have put to guard it, and you know the ins and outs of the palace. I cannot send any more Malevolent Guards. The risk is too great.” Trystan shut his eyes tightly, resolved not to feel worry or remorse for putting Evie’s brother in such a dangerous situation.

“I’ll leave at first light.” Gideon’s shoulders were stiff, his chin high for a man about to go on a mission that was just as likely to fail as it was to succeed.

“You need not travel there alone,” Trystan offered with little behind it. They both knew Gideon had to be the one to do this. “We could send a few of the Malevolent Guards.”

“I’m the only one who knows where Benedict’s office is,” Gideon reminded him. “And I’m the one who owes this…to her.”

There needn’t be clarification on who he was speaking of.

Rain beat harder against the windows now. The reconstructed stained glass of Rennedawn’s book mocked them with its closeness. A round of thunder unleashed against the glass, and Lyssa leaped into Trystan’s side. “It feels…spooky in here, Lord Trystan.”

“It’s just a storm, Lyssa,” Trystan reassured her.

But there was that feeling of unease, which slithered along his spine in unwelcome warning that something was afoot.

Another strike of lightning, then booming thunder, so strong the manor shook. “Deadlands!” The candles blew out, sending the room into complete and total darkness.

Trystan’s hands shook, blood rushing in his ears, the feeling of a thousand tiny needles climbing to the top of his head at the paralyzing fear he thought he’d conquered. But when he heard Lyssa’s small scream, he forgot all about the fear—about anything but finding her. “Lyssa! Edwin!” he called. “Lyssa!”

A scratching sound, then the glow of a match that caught on a torch in Edwin’s hands, lighting the room to reveal a frazzled Gideon and a frantic blue ogre’s face.

But to Trystan’s alarm, as he scanned the kitchen, he found no one else.

Just a discarded whisk, still rocking back and forth on the ground.

“Deadlands,” Trystan breathed, then sprinted out of the kitchens and down the hall. But it was empty.

Lyssa was gone.

Chapter 17

Evie

“Where is my sister?” Evie yelled, panic climbing up her throat as she shoved past Gideon, who’d found her in one of the high towers from which ravens were dispatched.

Now she was tearing down the hallway, the dim candlelight flickering with another boom of thunder. “Lyssa!” she screamed, her eyes burning, her limbs shaking with the need to move, to dosomething. “Where is she?”

Gideon surged around the corner, hair mussed, eyes wide, chest moving rapidly. “You’re sure she’s missing? Perhaps she ran off when the lights went out because she was frightened.”

Pain speared through her, the dark mist falling from her fingers in wisps of smoke, surrounding her legs.

Part of it came up to pat her back in comfort, but she merely gawked at it before shaking her head and giving Gideon a look of pure misery. “Lyssa isn’t afraid of the dark.”

Gideon blew out a breath and walked straight through the black mist, not paying it any mind when he folded Evie into a hug. “We’ll find her, Eve. It will be all right; you’re not doing this by yourself anymore, I promise you.”

Her eyes burned, and she returned the hug, feeling the warmth that only came from a brother. “Thank you, Gideon. I’m sorry for snapping at you— Well, I’m not sorry, actually, but I’m glad you’re here.”

Gideon pushed her away with a chuckle and a clearing of his throat. “Oh, sis. I promise you that I always deserve it. Okay, that’s enough of that. Did you look up in the offices yet?”

“And in our chambers.” Evie sniffed, rubbing her eyes, trying to clear her racing thoughts enough to be rational. She was no good to Lyssa if she couldn’t keep her head on straight.

Or at least a touch less crooked. “Someone took her—I can feel it. She’s scared somewhere, and I wasn’t even there! I was—”

“You were sending a letter by raven after nearly taking a walk over the literal edge. It wasn’t a grievous offense,” Trystan said, dryly interrupting their conversation with a grim set to his mouth. “I checked on Marv. He remains chained to a chair in Tatianna’s quarters. Roland attested that he hadn’t moved.”

Gideon’s eyebrows flew to his forehead. “What is Roland doing in there with Marv?”

“I believe it’s called wooing,” Trystan said with such earnestness, a pressure released in Evie’s chest. “Wait a moment.” Trystan pulled a book from the pocket of his black cloak, flipping through the pages so rapidly, Evie nearly didn’t catch it.