The Viin


    “The traitor again?” Tatianna hissed, pping Trystan on the arm. “Damn it.”


    “Why am I being struck,” Trystan grumbled, rubbing his arm. The office had emptied out for the day, night had fallen, and the only employees remaining were the guards who lived on the grounds and the rest of their motley crew. All the usual suspects.


    Tatianna, de, Ms. Erring, Edwin, Sage, rissa, Keeley, and Kingsley, with the new addition of Rebecka’s brother Rnd, who was taking in his surroundings like one inhaled secondhand smoke.


    He hated that he was spending time so regrly with these people that it had be regr, but he didn’t have much of a choice. After they returned, they’d all convened in the kitchen. Edwin had ced chalices of cauldron brew in front of everyone with a forlorn look on his blue face, his purple eyes not holding their usual spark.


    Guilt ate at Trystan.


    Edwin dropped a tray of cookies on the table, and Sage patted the ogre’srge arm gently. “Edwin, why don’t you sit down?”


    Trystan stood immediately without pause and without fuss. “Here, Edwin. I need more cauldron brew.” The brew in his chalice was thick and entirely without cream, but Trystan drained every drop, miraculously not wincing. But as soon as Edwin sat, the chair creaked, and Trystan turned away, his mouth twisted in a wince.


    Gods, that is bitter.


    No one had seen him lose hisposure but Sage, who was watching him, eyes glowing with amusement.


    Gods, that was sweet.


    He took thedle from the cauldron and filled, then drained another ss, leaning into the burn down his throat.


    Tatianna’s hands glowed golden as she moved them about Edwin’s head, checking on his injury. “Poor dear. Did you take that tonic I gave you?”


    Edwin nodded, staring down at his hands. “I can’t help but feel like the attack was my fault.”


    “It’s not,” Rebecka objected. “You mustn’t keep dwelling, Edwin. It could’ve happened to any one of us.”


    Edwin shook his head, taking off his sses and rubbing them against his linen shirt. “The kitchen is my domain. What if little Lyssa had been with me? What would the knave have done to the poor thing?” Edwin’s blue cheeks turned a deep shade of violet, and tears sprang from his eyes.


    “It’s my fault,” Trystan said, and every gaze in the room was on him. “There is no one to me for this matter but me. I thought the thorny grove would be enough to keep the king’s men at bay. I was a fool.”


    Kingsley leaped on the table, sign in hand that read, No.


    “So, you think whoever snuck the notes to Lyssa was the same person who let in the intruder?” Tatianna asked.


    Trystan pinched the bridge of his nose, nodding.


    re cut in. “Evie, do you still have the notes?”


    Sage looked up from her hands. “I do. I tried matching them to different résumés we have filed with very little luck. The writing isn’t like any I’ve seen.”


    re leaned her head side to side, appearing to weigh her next words—a trait quite out of character for his little sister. Her normal mode was to speak as sharply and quickly as possible. “May I see them? Perhaps the ink they used could be traceable.”


    Evie’s eyes lightened, and she leaped up, grabbing re by the hands. His sister looked rmed at the sudden disy of excitement, no doubt feeling the full effect of the force that was Sage’s joy. “Oh, re, that’s a wonderful idea! I’ll go grab them now from our rooms.” Sage turned to go but ran straight into Gideon Sage, who was standing in the doorway, looking around the room like a hen that had walked in on a pack of coyotes.


    “Well, this looks like jolly good fun. nning a funeral?”


    “It will be yours if you don’t shut your mouth, sir knight,” Keeley bit out, ring at Gideon.


    Gideon smirked at her. “Ah, so you are feeling better, Captain. Good thing—yourcency was making me uneasy.”


    Keeley’s nose twitched, and there was something familiar about it, something that resonated in Trystan’s mind. But he forgot immediately when Keeley gave Gideon a sneer before asking Trystan, “How do we know the traitor wasn’t him?”


    That familiar flush of anger deepened the color on Sage’s cheeks and chest. But “Careful, Keeley” was all she said.


    “He’s the one person who came here from behind enemy lines,” Keeley argued, not heeding the warning. Foolish, in Trystan’s opinion. The look on Sage’s face would send a weaker person to their knees. “Forgive me, Ms. Sage, but I think we would be remiss to not at least consider him a suspect.”


    Sage moved toward Keeley, and Gideon was between the women in two strides. “Smart, Captain, covering all your bases. Absolutely add me to the suspect list.” Gideon folded his hands in front of him, looking nearly schrly in his deliberation. “What am I suspected of having done, exactly?”


    “Nothing,” Sage bit out. “The notes aren’t in Gideon’s handwriting. I checked.”


    Gideon frowned. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, sis.”


    Sage turned her anger on her brother, and Trystan had the absurd urge to grab a snack, kick his feet up on a chair, and watch her deliver one verbal blow after another. “I used to trust everyone who cared for me. You’ve cured me of that ailment, along with every other member of our family.” She paused. “Except Lyssa.”


    Gideon folded his lips inward, pressing them until they turned white. “Brutally put, Eve, but right as always.”


    Trystan didn’t like the way Sage folded her arms around herself, hunching like she was trying to be smaller. “What did you want, Gideon? This is a private meeting.”


    Gideon unfolded a piece of paper that he’d had in his pocket, the crinkling sounds loud in the quiet room. He spread it out on the table and gestured to it with a puff of his chest. “Behold, my map of the Gleaming Pce.”


    Becky stared at it as if it were a dead cockroach on the table. “Is this an official map? Why does it look like that?”


    The directions were somewhat clear, but the map was obviously hand drawn and nowhere near official.


    “I worked off my memory,” Gideon said, rubbing the back of his neck.


    “A miracle,ing from you; we know memory isn’t one of your strong suits,” Trystan said smoothly. “Or is it easier to recall points of architecture than family members?”


    Trystan didn’t hate Gideon. But he hated that Sage had scars that would never go away because her brother had been too selfish toe back after his memory returned.


    Someone pinched Trystan’s thigh. “Ow!” He red down to see Evie was whistling next to him, looking at the window whose repair was still in progress. “Sage!”


    “What?” She threw her hands up in surrender.


    Gideon watched them, as did the others, with a morbid amusement. “Can you two finish thister?”


    Trystan answered on reflex. “Yes, fine.” And then nearly pped his face into his palm when Sage gawked at him. “I mean—there’s nothing to finish. Walk us through the map?”


    Gideon shook his head and pointed to various spots marked in red. “These are the tunnels. They’re traditionally not used unless there’s a security threat, but they lead underneath the castle ande up against the walls in one of the sitting rooms. This one”—he pointed to a long, straight line on the far right of the paper—“is adjacent to Benedict’s office, where he keeps Rennedawn’s storybook. And this one”—he pointed to another line at the far left of the bottom—“leads to where he kept the female guvre before.”


    “Moving a guvre is no easy task,” de added.


    “Agreed,” Gideon said. “It’s likely where he’s still keeping her now.”


    “You really think he’d be foolish enough to hide her in the exact same spot?” Becky asked, rolling her eyes at the men and leaning back in her chair.


    Gideonughed. “Doubt me on everything else if you must, but I worked for the man for a decade, and I know his greatest weakness.”


    “Ego,” Trystan said.


    Gideon nodded. “Exactly. He believes he’s winning this battle now. He will get careless. But in reality, we have my mother, The Viin, and the frog-prince thing, too.” He gestured to Kingsley, who was blinking on the table. He jotted something on his sign.


    Ass


    Sage struggled for breath, and Rebecka pped a hand against her back.


    Rnd, who’d been watching the entirety of this exchange quietly up until that point, waved his hands around like a madman. “Wait, I beg your pardon? Nura Sage is alive, Rebecka?”


    “Later.” Rebecka rubbed her temples, and Trystan had the strong urge to do the same. There was nothing the lot of them could initiate like a pounding headache.


    “Did the Curse Consultant say anything else about Kingsley after I left?” Sage asked. “Is there a way into the southern kingdom? Or an alternative to the enchantress?”


    Trystan shook his head. It was a long shot, but their options were limited, and unless they miraculously found Kingsley’s true love in a matter of a few weeks, they had only one choice. “Only the enchantress who cast the curse can undo it. The southern kingdom’s our only choice. Lionel said we could get past the wards…with the use of a magic wand.”


    re licked her lips, looking paler than she normally did. “Magic wands are dangerous and rare. Where would we even find something like that?”


    Trystan sighed. “We’ll have to visit an old friend of mine.”


    Tatianna frowned. “Who?”


    “One of Rennedawn’s most powerful lords.”