Evie


    It took every ounce of professionalism and willpower she had not to sprint through each room of the house until she found Trystan’s childhood bedroom. There was no guarantee his mother had kept it the same anyhow, especially with the shrewd way she was watching them from her armchair when they entered the room. Like she’d already known Trystan would be a disappointment, like she had been anticipating it.


    It made Evie hate her.


    “How fortunate.” Amara’s words curled and twisted like a toxic smoke over the room, and Evie had to resist choking. “The Viin and The Wicked Woman,e to visit me. Tell me.” She gestured for the lot of them to take seats. Trays of sandwiches and fruits wereid out in a delicious-looking disy. “To what do I owe such an honor?”


    “I should think you’d find no honor in visits from me, Mother,” Trystan muttered, inspecting a sandwich, turning it upside down.


    “What are you doing?” Amara snapped.


    “Wondering what kind of poison you used,” Trystan said casually, leaning back in a careless pose. Morphing into a different person. A truly hateful one.


    “I don’t make it a habit of poisoning guests, believe it or not.”


    “Just your children, then,” Tatianna quipped, cing herself between Trystan and Amara. “Hello, Amara. Still have that stick up your butt?”


    “Tatianna. Charming as always.” Amara rolled her eyes disdainfully. “A wonder you let such a catch go, rissa.”


    “Amara,” Arthur rasped. “You promised.”


    Evie wondered what darknesses festered within a person, that they’d need to promise to be civil to their own children.


    “It’s fine, Father,” re said, morphing into someone new just as Trystan had. Their mother’s presence was turning both of them into versions of themselves that didn’t suit, that were wrong.


    The dark pall cast over the Maverine siblings didn’t extend to the room itself. Instead, the sitting room was warm, lit by candles. Comfortable-looking furniture and book-lined shelves filled the space, and there were worn spots in the wood floor from all the footsteps in and out. It was a home that was lived in, perhaps even loved in at one point, but it was empty now.


    The memories just lived as ghosts in the walls, built into the foundation of a now-haunted home.


    Evie coughed into her arm to disguise her nervousness, drawing Amara’s attention. She eyed Evie with interest. “Wicked Woman? That’s ark, isn’t it. You look like a deer caught in a carriagemp.”


    Evie prepared to argue, but a lethal voice cut in. “Do not speak to her like that.”


    Amara’s eyes fixated on Trystan again. She was poised like a queen as she ced a piece of paper on the table. “And Trystan fighting for vignte justice instead of viiny. How refreshing. I am so proud.”


    Amara mmed a finger into the news pamphlet on the table, and Evie gasped when she saw the in bold letters etched at the top.


    EXTRA: THE VILLAIN OR THE ANTIHERO?


    THE NOTORIOUS VILLAIN OF RENNEDAWN SAVES INNOCENT VILLAGERS FROM EVIL PHOENIX ALONGSIDE HIS APPRENTICE, THE WICKED WOMAN.


    The short article was followed by one harrowing statement.


    The Viin—not so viinous after all?


    “Who wrote this utter garbage?” Trystan gripped the paper in his fist, tearing it under his fingers as he scanned the words. “I save one fucking vige, and my whole reputation is tarnished. They are calling me a…a hero.” Oh dear, was he turning green?


    He fumed, ring at the piece of paper.


    Evie hesitated, but her tongue got the better of her. “An antihero, sir. A hero who doesn’t act like a hero is a far cry from sainthood. Calm down.”


    Amara huffed, and then silence permeated the air with a deep, nervous tension, the mood punctuated nicely by the crack of thunder and a sudden downpour outside. “Winnifred. Bring more candles!” Amara barked.


    Her quiet kitchen maid crept into the room, hunched over as if to make herself smaller, and she lit candles carefully, leaping over Kingsley when he appeared by her foot.


    “What is all the squealing about, Winnifred? I’ve had enough of your misconduct today.” Amara stood, moving to rush for the frightened young woman before Trystan interceded.


    “Oh, Mother. Don’t tell me after all this time you’ve forgotten your greatest achievement?”


    Trystan stood, sauntering for the other side of the room and scooping up the frog with one hand. “You remember Prince Alexander Kingsley of the southern kingdom.”


    Amara gripped her chest, as if she had been shot. “You dare bring that thing into my house? That abomination that you caused!”


    “Amara.” Arthur grabbed her elbows, trying to soothe her. “You agreed to be peaceful.”


    “I agreed on the condition that he would be!” Amara waved her hand. “Instead, you bring before me my treacherous daughter and my evil, monstrous son.” She poked her finger into Trystan’s chest. He kept his eyes forward, not looking down at her but not moving, either. “Do you know what a mess you have made for us since revealing your identity? I have friends of twenty years who avoid me in the streets. The entire life Arthur and I have built for ourselves here—ruined because of your selfishness.”


    “Surely they suspected something off about our family long before now.” Trystan’s voice was steel, hard, cold. “Where did they think I’ve been all these years?”


    “Dead,” Amara spat. “As I wish you had been.”


    “That is enough!” Arthur grabbed Amara, but it was toote. Evie’s anger had taken hold; the thoughts of making peace left her in a flood of protective anger, and she was submerged in it. It was all she knew, just the pulse in her ears and the fury in her heart. She stood, stepping in front of Trystan.


    And pped Amara Maverine across the face.


    Unfortunately, Evie’s anger seemed as quick to leave her as it had been to take over, and she knew her anger usually left behind its most tried-and-true friends.


    Guilt and regret.


    Though only guilt seemed to show up this time. Regret was currently doing a jig and cheering for Evie to do it again.


    Everyone stared at her, slightly ck-jawed.


    “A deer growled at me once,” she stated.


    Amara just stared.


    “My point is to say that if a deer can growl, it likely can find a way to attack. So if I look wide-eyed and confused to you, know that I’m not, but you’re wee to underestimate me anyway.”


    Amara looked seconds away from swinging at Evie herself but stopped, choosing a different course. “Take Alexander and leave this room, re. I’d like to have a conversation alone with my son and his…” Amara took Evie in and seemed to find hercking as she finished. “Partner.”


    Irritating two generations at once? Evie wondered if that came with a medal—or jail time.


    re lifted Kingsley onto her shoulder, nting herself in a seat directly across from her mother. “No. He stays. We all stay, for once.”


    Tatianna slowly sat down, watching the scene unfold with undue interest.


    “Do you know why we’re here?” Evie asked, shoving a sandwich into her mouth.


    Amara frowned as she took her seat once more, picking up her winess. “Yes. You’re going to ask me for the ss slippers.”


    Trystan swallowed. “Arthur told you?”


    “The short version,” Arthur exined, standing in the corner like a guard on duty, only moving when a windowpane flew open, spraying cold rainwater across the room. “Damn old wood,” he grumbled, grabbing tools from the nearby cupboard to reattach it.


    Evie continued over the pounding of the rain and now the pounding of a hammer. “Are you going to give them to us?”


    “No.”


    “Shocker.” Evie slouched in her chair.


    “Far be it from me to assist you on a fool’s errand, but I have a vested interest in Alexander bing a prince once more. And I would be willing to give you the ss slippers, if you’d be willing to do something for me.” Amara red as she glided to the wall, where she pushed a panel open to reveal a hiddenpartment. She returned with a small scroll, unrolling it to reveal a map of Alexander’s kingdom. “The southern kingdom is against our border, meaning you have very little time to put the wand you’ve acquired to use.”


    “How did you know we have the wand?” Evie asked.


    Amara took a hearty sip from her winess as she sat again, ignoring her question. “Enchantresses are typically the ones wands are most effective for. She’d be the only one who could help you gain ess to the southern kingdom. Wands don’t work for just anyone. I told re as much in the letters I sent her.”


    re paled.


    “What letters?” Tatianna asked. “re?”


    re looked cornered, eyes turning red. “I messed up. I know that I messed up. I was going to tell you.”


    Evie slowly put the sandwich back on the te, chewing so fast she choked a little on herst swallow. “You.” She coughed. “You messed up how, re?”


    Trystan hit her lightly on the back.


    “The letters?” Trystan prodded.


    “re and I have been corresponding for months. She didn’t say?” Amara looked far too content at the development. “She’s been kind enough to keep me apprised of your movements.”


    Tatianna stood so fast, she knocked over two sses, looking ill. “Excuse me.”


    “Tatianna, wait!” re stood but was tugged down by her mother.


    “Let her go, rissa. Do not make a spectacle of yourself.”


    re frowned, watching the door with a desperate longing that knocked at Evie’s heart like a lightning strike. “I thought if I exined what we were doing, Mother might be more willing to aid our cause. I was trying to fix things, Trystan, I swear. I thought she might forgive you if I just exined.”


    Trystan sighed. “That would only work, re, if our mother was capable of forgiveness.”


    Amara went rigid. “I hired the enchantress to remove Trystan from this earth when I learned of the darkness that took him. To spare you, Trystan. It was re who went behind my back, hiring the same enchantress to merely pretend to kill you. To fool me. Alexander got in the way, and for it, he is now this—but that had nothing to do with me. I was kind enough to ry his death to his parents, and if that wasn’t enough, I also spared the enchantress’s young daughter the wrath of the southern kingdom. As an act of charity. I have been generous.”


    Evie was about to be incredibly generous with something heavy against Amara’s head.


    “And in the spirit of generosity, I will tell you that you will not be able to enter the southern kingdom without an enchantress to wear the ss slippers and use the wand. Without both, the magical objects are essentially useless.”


    “I don’t think she’s telling us this in the spirit of generosity,” Evie whispered to Trystan, who was already pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.


    Trystan pushed his hand down, a. hard resolve in his eyes. “You’re saying that to get to the enchantress, we need the enchantress? We’ve spent all this time on a wild goose chase?”


    “Not exactly,” Arthur said, returning to the group and sitting beside Amara. “The barrier isn’t like Alexander’s curse. Curses may only be reversed by the enchantress who cast them in the first ce. But the wand itself can be used by any enchantress’s magical fingerprint.”


    Arthur continued, steepling his fingers. “I was permitted into the southern kingdomst week to heal the enchantress before her execution. The king and queen want her to be in perfect health when they put her to death.” Arthur rubbed at the dark-purple bruising under his eyes, everything about him emitting exhaustion. “The easiest way to get to her would be through me. I’d be willing to escort you to the pce, though we can’t have the guards at the kingdom’s entrance notify the king and queen of my presence too soon—they’ll grow suspicious. You’ll need someone to wield the wand and wear the slippers to get in through the side entrance, to lower the enchantments there without notice.”


    “And how are we supposed to do that?” Trystan asked tly.


    Amara pped, a sinister smile on her face. “I suppose it’s time to propose my deal, then.”


    “Your deal?” Evie asked, folding her arms defensively.


    But Amara was unfazed. “You did not honestly think I would help my reprobate children for nothing? After all they’ve stolen from me?”


    Trystan and re both flinched. Evie’s hand started to rise, and Kingsley leaped atop it, holding it against the seat cushions.


    Breathe.


    She did. It helped very little.


    “What do you want?” Evie asked.


    “Bring the enchantress here. To me.” Amara folded her hands. “And to prove my good faith, I’ll send along someone who can use the wand and wear the slippers.”


    “Who?” Trystan asked cautiously.


    Amara rose and sailed into the kitchen, returning momentster with Winnifred dragging behind her. The girl shrank back, shyly slumping her shoulders. “I give you: the enchantress’s next of kin. An amateur enchantress, to be sure, but she’ll do for your purposes.”


    Winnifred looked petrified. “Mistress Maverine. What are you doing?”


    “You’ve already be acquainted with the enchantress Belinda Erodina’s daughter. Winnifred?”


    Amara shoved Winnifred until the young woman fell to her knees, a random burst of magic falling off her fingers and turning the couch pink.


    “I-I’m so sorry,” Winnifred whispered, clutching her hands to her chest. Evie and Trystan both moved to help her stand.


    “I took her in after her mother was captured.” Amaraughed lifelessly. “I’m not a monster.”


    No, Evie thought.


    Amara Maverine was something much, much worse.