Page 7 of Adversary to the Villain

Without warning, he gripped her waist and turned her around. His touch was perfunctory, but even still, gooseflesh prickled down her arms. Gripping her elbows, she followed him past the cloth-covered tables to a stack of books that were weathered and cobwebbed. “You wanted to show me your need for a feather duster?” she muttered, eyebrows shooting toward the top of her head.

He gave her a mock glare before taking a book from the top of the stack and laying it on one of the covered tables. A dim lantern sat atop it, aiding the little light from the rising sun. “I stopped visiting this room shortly after you began working here.”

Her mind was working furiously to catch up. “Because I threw a bomb at it?” she reminded him, wondering if in addition to losing his magic, he was also losing his memory.

“No, Sage.” He chuckled darkly, picking up his lantern and making his way toward the door. “I’m telling you that well before the damage was wrought upon this space, I had stopped visiting it when I needed to find peace.” He nudged the door open, hand gently placed on the doorknob.

She shook her head. “I don’t understand. Then where did you go when you desired safety?”

“I would find you.”

Chapter 2

Lyssa

Lyssa Sage was a traitor.

Or at least…she was about to be.

Tiptoeing toward Tatianna’s healing quarters, the youngest Sage sibling gently pressed the door open. Once it was safely, silently ajar, she slipped into the room, stepping past the sleeping healer. The woman breathed out, her face pressed to the palm of her hand, her elbow resting on the next bed over—the one that Lyssa’s mother, Nura, slept in. But Lyssa was not here for her mother.

“Ms. Erring,” Lyssa whispered, pushing at the Human and Magical Creature Resources woman’s shoulder until she jolted awake so fast, her glasses flew off from where they were resting atop her head, into Lyssa’s hands. “Good morning,” Lyssa whispered with a toothy grin. “May I speak to you outside?”

Ms. Erring grumbled, but she pulled herself out of bed, trailing after Lyssa until they were on the other side of the now-closed door. “Lyssa. You are not meant to be wandering without an adult until we have confirmed the manor is secure.”

Lyssa wondered to herself if sense was confiscated from a person when they reached adulthood.

“Yes, Ms. Erring. But how am I to ask an adult to wander with me from the confines of my bedroom if no adult is in there with me?” Lyssa reminded her gently, remembering that the woman had just woken up and Evie often needed at least thirty minutes in the morning before she said anything coherent.

Ms. Erring scratched her head. Her soft brown hair was loose from her severe bun, sitting just below her shoulders. “You could practice patience and wait for one of us to come retrieve you. Like you were told to do.”

Lyssa’s mouth twisted. “I hate waiting.”

Ms. Erring sighed. “Hence thepractice.”

Lyssa tapped her chin before clasping her hands behind her back. “Very well. Next time I see a strange man wandering through the manor, I’ll simply wait patiently.”

Ms. Erring went from drowsy and rumpled to furious and panicked so rapidly, Lyssa wished she hadn’t blinked. “What? A man? Who? Why are you just now telling me!”

“I was practicing patience.”

“Lyssa!” Ms. Erring groaned, looking very alert andveryirritated. “Tell me everything.”

“I’m getting there!”

Lyssa’s morning had begun with the gentle twist of a doorknob and the creak of rusting hinges. Evie had tossed all night, then crawled out of bed before dawn. Lyssa had, logically, feigned sleep, waiting for the footsteps to grow quieter before leaping from the bed and flying toward the door.

There were many questions Lyssa knew she was meant not to ask, but unfortunately, she had been far too curious not to notice the black mist hovering over her sister for more than half the night. It might have been frightening to her once upon a time, but Lyssa Sage knew well that the scariest-looking things were often friendlier if you merely said hello.

The mist had waved back at her before pulling the covers up under Lyssa’s chin. She’d been tempted to tap Evie so they could giggle over the action together, but her sister had pulled the covers over her own head, hiding there until her morning escape.

Lyssa, to her credit, had not followed her…for at least fifteen minutes. But she was a storyteller! And her subject was walking out the door!

“So essentially, you ignored everything we told you about safety last night?” Ms. Erring chastised.

Lyssa nodded, furrowing her brow. “Yes, I just said that. Aren’t you listening?”

“About as well as you did!” Ms. Erring growled. “Lyssa, the strange man—where does he come in?”