There were lights everywhere.
Briar’s Peak was seated at Hickory Forest’s cliff ledge. There was a steep clearing on this side, far enough of a drop that there needed to be a flimsy wooden bridge connecting one side of the forest to the other. The bridge—a generous word for it—had enough planks missing that it may as well have just been two thick ropes tied together. But the rickety thing was hardly the focus.
Not when the decadent opulence spread before Evie’s eyes was demanding all her attention.
The trees surrounding the peak were decorated in floating candles, orbed in light to keep them from incinerating the leaves and branches around them. Music and laughter sprinkled the air like confetti, and warmth brushed over Evie’s bare shoulders as she removed her cloak.
Blade whistled low. “You clean up well, my friend.” His smile was warm, unlike the daggers Becky glared at Blade before slipping off into the fray of people swaying to the sounds of the musicians’ chords.
Evie tsked at Blade, lightly shoving him. “Why didn’t you say anything about the way Becky looked? Your mouth was open for a whole minute when she showed up.”
Blade sighed and rubbed a hand through his thick black hair. “Because the things I was thinking when I saw her in that dress weren’t fit for mixed company.”
Evie ducked away from a drunken couple stumbling past her, no doubt to do some of the illicit things Blade was talking about. “That was more information than I needed, to be honest.”
“You asked.” He smiled suggestively.
“How rude of you to point out things that are absolutely true.” Evie turned away from him, catching sight of Becky before she disappeared into the crowd once more. “Well, I hope she knows what the deadlands she’s doing, because I sure don’t.”
They passed by a long table of unfamiliar dishes, the shapes and colors of the food almost seeming from another world. Even the wine was a thick silver, unlike anything she’d ever seen.
“Magic has some perks, doesn’t it?” Blade smiled, grabbing a glass for each of them.
“Should we be drinking that?” Evie took a whiff of the liquid, amazed that she felt intoxicated just from the fragrance. “We don’t know who’s behind this whole thing—what if these are poisoned?”
Blade took a large gulp of his, and Evie jumped in protest. “You fool!”
He nodded toward the rest of the crowd. “Everybody is drinking them, so unless they are all being poisoned to dance in sloppily drunken circles and show blatant public displays of affection, I think we’re safe.”
Evie took a careful sip, resisting a moan from the euphoric flavor coating her taste buds. “How can anything taste this good?” She made for another large sip, but Blade stayed her hand.
“Careful. It’s not poisoned, but it’s strong. Now, to find the core healer.” Blade searched the crowd, eyes narrowing hard. Evie looked in the direction that he was and smiled knowingly when she saw a handsome blond man kissing Becky’s hand and looking very appreciatively at her figure.
“I’ll be right back,” he growled before stalking toward the two of them.
“But—”
It was too late. Blade was off, nearly throwing himself between Becky and the stranger, leaning down to furiously whisper at Becky. Who, in all fairness, had pure murder in her eyes as well at being interrupted.
“Fine, I’ll do it myself,” Evie muttered, examining the crowd once more for any familiar faces. There was every manner of creature here, from humans to pixies. Pure-white unicorns stood tied to trees, forest sprites dancing around them. Every breath Evie took was magic, living in the air and filling her with warm happiness.
She’d quietly hoped to see Tatianna among the splendor, flitting over with an invitation of her own. Evie had made light of writing out the list of employees who could be traitors for The Villain, but every name she’d neatly cataloged for her boss to review had dug a pit so deep in her stomach that she could still feel it now, weeks later. Such an innocent way to rip apart the people she claimed to care for. She exhaled hard, pushing against the boning of her corseted torso.
These things weren’t built for people with high levels of anxiety, but at least she looked pretty.
A tap on her shoulder caused her to jump and spin with her fists raised. An older man stood there, shoulder-length red hair hanging in his face. He held out a hand, dark robes covering his body. “May I see your invitation, young lady?”
Evie narrowed her eyes in suspicion, tapping the toe of one shoe against the knife she had tucked into the sheath at her ankle to assure herself it was still there. “Of course.” She handed the envelope over, hoping Blade and Becky would return soon.
But the older man simply smiled after reading the envelope, not bothering to pull the invitation from within, then handed it back to her without issue. “Wonderful. Happy you came, dear.”
“Do I know you?” Evie asked suspiciously, trying to place the man’s face.
“No, I wouldn’t expect you to.” He laughed, the sound warm and soft like liquid sugar. He held out his hand again, calloused and blistered. “My name is Arthur Maverine. I believe you work for my son, Trystan. I am the core healer.”
Evie was certain her body was going into shock, because she froze, unable to remember how to use words to communicate, and instead kept her mouth open and her eyes glued to the man before her. “You— I— Um, hello?”
Arthur chuckled and dropped his hand back to his side when he realized hers was too heavy to move. “I must say, you seem surprised to be here for someone who so insistently requested an invitation to tonight’s festivities.”
Evie shook her head and reeled back, finding her voice. “Excuse me? I didn’t request anything. This invitation was left in my bedroom with an ominous note.”
Arthur frowned and gestured to two wooden chairs away from the crowd. She reluctantly followed, keeping her hand out, ready to grab her dagger at a moment’s notice.
It wasn’t as sharp as the one she’d had the day she met The Villain.
The one tucked away with her now was something she’d purchased at the week’s end merchant market for far more than it was worth. Especially considering the horrible dullness of the blade, but she digressed.
It was sharp enough to stab someone—that’s really all she required should the situation call for it.
“I can assure you, Ms. Sage, it was you who invited me to tonight’s festivities.” The older man held her gaze. “You sent a letter this morning.”
Evie shook her head, battling a wave of confusion. “I never sent you a letter, Mr. Maverine. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Arthur stood, pulling a piece of parchment from one of the folds in his robe. Opening it while he reseated himself, he began to read.
“‘Dear Arthur Maverine, I realize you do not know me. But I know your son. I work very closely with him. Considering our connection, I would truly be so grateful if you are able to provide me an invitation to one of your illustrious celebrations. It would be of great import to not only me but also your son. Signed, Evangelina Sage.’” When he finished reading, he looked up at her expectantly.
Evie shook her head furiously. “No, no. I did not send you that letter, sir. I’m not sure who did, but it was not me.” Evie searched the crowd for Blade and Becky, but the two had disappeared.
Arthur’s face was pinched with concern. It was fatherly, and Evie almost asked him for a hug—almost.
“I assure you, Evie.” He tested the name out like he wanted to be sure he was getting it right. “When I received this missive, I was intrigued. I felt I had no choice but to attend and seek you out.”
It was at this moment that she wished she had the ability to tell truth from deception. Her naïveté chose the most random times to appear, and she never saw it coming until it bit her in the ass.
But he looked so sincere.
“Do you—? Are you aware of—?” She struggled to delicately ask if Arthur knew of his son’s chosen profession.
“Who my son is?” The man folded his hands, smiling through a painful expression. “Yes, I’m very aware of what life Trystan has chosen for himself.”
“Oh,” Evie said meekly. This really wasn’t going the way she had planned it. She felt no closer to finding her answers. In fact, they felt further away. Like she was running down a long hallway to a door she could never seem to reach. “Well, that’s good, I suppose.”
“You work closely with him?” Arthur asked, nothing but kind curiosity in his expression.
“Yes.” Evie nodded. “He is a wonderful boss.”
He cleared his throat, adjusting the buttons sitting under his chin. “I’m glad he has someone who cares for him.”
Evie sensed he was implying a closer relationship, and she fumbled over her words to set the record straight. For posterity and all. “I am his assistant, so of course I must care for his needs…his work needs. You know, as his work assistant should always do.”
“I concur.”
The deep, resounding voice caused them both to jolt in their seats before she watched Arthur’s eyes widen, his face going white with shock.
Evie watched Arthur stand slowly, reaching out both of his hands. “Trystan,” he breathed.
“Hello, Arthur.”
Evie turned around and saw The Villain’s black-clad form.
His dark eyes found hers, palpable anger there. “Hello, Sage.”
Eyes wide in disbelief, she said, “By the gods, sir! If you insist on continuing to sneak up behind me like that, I’m going to force you to wear a bell.” Honestly, this is growing a little ridiculous.
But her good humor was quickly diminished by a shiver that raced down her spine as she realized the trouble she’d caused. Because of her not taking the invitation to the boss in the first place, he was now having a very public reunion with his father. A reunion, she was almost certain, he had never intended to have. At least not now, not in front of her.
As her gaze darted around the packed gathering, she began figuring out the easiest escape. To run away from this disaster.
