Page 107 of Adversary to the Villain

“I know because Moira told me the truth,” Clare explained, her hand pressed to her mouth, trying to speak between shallow breaths. “If you do not pass, you do not—”

She stopped, and then she looked at Blade with a grimness that could kill hope faster than a knife.

“You do not live.”

Chapter 52

Kingsley

Alexander Kingsley was being dragged through light and sound until he landed upon the docks in the Maverines’ home village.

The sky was cloudy and gray. A woman clad in black rounded the corner, and Alexander leaped back. “Amara.” Alexander’s scratchy call went unanswered, like she hadn’t heard him at all. Which was odd enough, until she walked right through him.

And you thought being a frog was weird.

“Winnifred!” Amara’s shrill voice was cold as ice.

Winnifred?

And there she was, the little enchantress with a tendency to blast him with feather boas. There were purple hollows under her eyes when she approached Amara Maverine, a nervous hunch to her shoulders.

“Yes, Mistress Maverine? Can I help you with something?” It was a wonder Amara could even hear the girl when she spoke so timidly.

“What is this?” Amara held up a piece of paper.

Winnifred leaned over to glance at it. “That’s the seating chart you asked for. For the dinner before the funeral, mistress. Did— Did I put someone in the wrong seat?”

“You’reon this seating chart.” Amara’s eyes narrowed, her face in a severe frown. “Why?”

Winnifred’s eyes looked huge and frightened. “I—I thought you might allow me to go, Mistress Maverine. I know I am not technically part of the family—”

“You’re not a part of the family at all, Winnifred,” Amara mocked cruelly. “You’re the maid.”

Winnifred didn’t seem to register the warning in Amara’s tone, instead continuing. “I realize that, and I wouldn’t presume…” Her voice softened, light as a brush of wind. “But without me to attend, who else do you have left, mistress?”

Alexander could tell by the innocence in her eyes that she was asking genuinely, without malice that was deserved.

Amara laughed, a dangerous sound. But Winnifred didn’t realize this, not until it was too late.

Amara’s hand wrapped around Winnifred’s arm, squeezing so hard that the young woman let out a startled, “Ow!”

For a moment, Alexander forgot he was not truly there; he saw red and immediately walked over to remove Amara’s arm with as much gentleness as she was currently showing Winnifred. But his hand swiped at nothing.

“Listen to me, you little brat,” Amara hissed. “I took you in. I fed you. I clothed you. And so help me, if you speak to me like that again, I will turn you to stone right alongside your mother.”

Winnifred flinched backward, her glassy eyes turning a startling green when they began to glisten. “Yes, mistress.”

Amara released her, and Winnifred fell, her gray dress floating around her. As her mistress stalked away, Winnifred merely sat there. Not crying. Not saying anything. Just staring. Kingsley was fairly certain he’d never seen a person so sad.

Eventually, he realized that the enchantress had frozen.

“You can change this,” a disembodied voice sang from above him. “Hers is just one of the lives permanently altered by your transformation. You can undo it—save herandyourself. Make it so you never became a frog.

“Those ten years returned to you. All as it should be.”

So many years. So many chalkboard signs. So,somany flies.

He could undo it…