Chapter 65

Evie

It was a new low, in every sense, having to stare at one's own backside.

When she first saw the impostor, she'd panicked. Then, when she saw how close the fake was to her boss, she got…very angry. Enough to pick up the first object she could find and chuck it—hard.

Had that been a paperweight? She knew they'd make a good weapon. She giggled.

"I'm sorry, did that really hurt?" She winced at the hand that covered her impostor's head.

"Sage?"

She stood at attention. "Yes, sir?"

"Don't apologize to the ancient monster, if you please." He didn't sound exasperated, as he usually did at her antics, but rather…relieved.

She scrunched her nose. "But I hit her with a paperweight."

Fake Her hissed and ducked backward, snarling in the corner.

"Take note," her boss said, moving swiftly in front of her. "That's what you look like before you have your cauldron brew in the morning."

She gripped the back of his arm as the creature hissed and snarled again. With a sour expression, she said, "I should've thrown the paperweight at you ."

A voice came out of the body that was now changing back into what had appeared in the Fortis arena: the unnatural white light that had no face. As reassuring as having Trystan's arm in her grip was, she still felt her heart pounding erratically in her chest.

"You're too late—he's already failed," the light taunted. "His dark soul is mine. Hand it over or you'll remain trapped here forever, tormented by great evil."

Evie curled her lip and nodded earnestly. "That's a pretty average work week in the office, honestly."

The boss's gaze flicked down to her. "Why, thank you," he deadpanned.

"You're welcome!" she said with a playful grin.

"Cease!" the voice hissed again. Even without a face, she could feel its impatience.

The boss sighed, holding his hands up in surrender. "Hands of destiny, I surrender. Take my evil essence and allow her to leave."

Right, like she'd thrown herself into this just so he could play the self-sacrificing hero. "Don't be ridiculous. Here." She removed the dagger from her waist and held it out toward the light. "How about a trade? This dagger is magically imbued and weirdly linked to the scar on my shoulder. You could probably make me dance like a puppet."

The hands of destiny—which, sure, why wouldn't Becky's unfairly attractive family have a room for something called "the hands of destiny"?—flinched away from the dagger, hissing again. Noteworthy.

But the boss's voice drowned out her musings. "You are not bartering your dagger for our freedom, Sage. It's hardly an even trade."

Destiny spoke again, interrupting them. "You would offer your most precious possession to save such twisted evil?"

She rolled her eyes. "I've suffered more at the hands of those who claim to be good than those who are deemed to be evil." She held the dagger up high. "Take it."

"No." The Villain's face was seething with anger. "No, Sage. You cannot argue your way out of ancient magic. As convincing as you think yourself, you cannot defy natural law. Take the deal and get out of here."

He turned to the light now.

"I'm evil," he told destiny. "I've killed countless people, tortured a dozen more for information, and tormented and struck fear into the hearts of nearly every person in Rennedawn—and likely the whole of the continent, too. I shouldn't pass any test of goodness."

Evie interrupted him by clapping a hand over his mouth. "He's like a teddy bear that got hold of a kitchen knife."

The Villain pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking away her hand, but destiny's creature cut in, a hint of amusement in its ancient voice. "No need to continue arguing. I forgot how tiring humans can be. You already passed."

Her boss looked like he wanted to argue again, and she pressed her shoe over his boot and furiously shook her head.

He, of course, ignored her. "How is that possible? What was the test—who can bicker the longest?"

The hands of destiny shook its illuminated head. "No, Trystan Maverine." He stopped short, and so did she as the light hovered over them, leaning down and whispering something in the boss's ear that made him stand so rigid, it looked as if his bones were about to crack.

The next thing she knew, she was being flung against the dirt of the arena ground. Evie turned over and coughed and coughed until she blinked the world back into focus. She felt like some haphazard artist had taken her body apart and put it back together in all the wrong places.

She felt around for Trystan, but instead of catching the softness of his shirt or the warmth of his skin, the back of her hand landed somewhere near his forehead, which felt like it was on fire .

In the background, she could hear the gate of the cage closing, but all she could focus on were his closed eyes, his chest rising and falling too slowly.

"Sir?" She shook his shoulder. "Trystan?" His eyes fluttered open, and he looked at her so curiously, Evie wanted to shake his head to see what words would fall out.

Trystan's eyes remained unfocused as he stared at her. "It can't be."

"What? It can't be what?" she asked quietly, pushing damp strands of hair off his forehead and moving to cradle his head in her lap. "What did it whisper to you? Are you sick? What's wrong?"

"I wish it was different. I wish… I wish…" he murmured, eyes fluttering shut.

I wish…what?

Evie swallowed and stared at their onlookers. Renna and Julius were ushering down servants with a medical gurney. While Tatianna kneeled beside her, hovering glowing hands over Trystan's still form, Kingsley appeared, tapping a webbed foot against the boss's forehead.

She addressed no one in particular. "I think…we will be late for dinner."

The boss's fingers twirled around hers, grabbing tight to her hand, eyes shooting open on a gasp as he was loaded onto the stretcher. "Don't leave me."

She gripped his hand as hard as she could. "I won't. I promise."

But just as she said the words, there was a prickling feeling on the back of her neck, like she was being watched by someone. And in that moment, she feared very much that she'd just made a promise she wouldn't be able to keep.