Page 93 of Adversary to the Villain

And then—

Evie smelled smoke.

Chapter 45

Lyssa

Back in the office

Lyssa Sage had been left behind with only a snail and an ogre for company.

It was a bad day with only those silver linings.

“Pour the gravy, Edwin!” Lyssa ordered, and Edwin responded by dumping a large cup filled with the brown liquid over the cookie dough.

“Miss Lyssa,” Edwin started. He was being careful. Everyone was careful around her these days; life was more precarious than it had been when it was just Evie and her. It was fuller now, butgoodnessit was so much messier, and Lyssa had realized the story she was living was no longer safe. For anyone.

“If there is ever anything you’d like to talk about, I have a wonderful listening ear.” He went to grab both ears and acted shocked when he found the left one. “Look at that! I’ve got two! Now you must tell me your troubles—we cannot allow such gifts to go to waste.”

Blossom the snail munched on another flower, seemingly unperturbed by the emotion Lyssa aimed at the cage. Wishing, only a little, to live so simply.

But only a little.

She was whimsical, not foolish.

And her feelings were far too big to contain in such a small shell.

Her mouth pinched, and she threw her arms around Edwin’s middle. “I’m so worried about Evie and afraid she won’t come home. What if she’s hurt? I’m sad and scared. But mostly sad.” Lyssa had never had difficulty expressing how she felt, no matter how uncomfortable or painful.

Edwin bent down to wrap his arms fully around her before separating to pat her head. “You’re allowed to be sad, little one.”

“I know that.” She sniffled, rubbing at her nose in a most unladylike way. Sniffling was probably a big no in the rules of villainy, but there were other rules she’d been raised to follow in life, and she would never forget her first teacher.

“Evie always told me crying was your body saying goodbye to the pain,” she said, lightly rubbing at her eyes. “But I don’t feel like it’s actually leaving. Nothing is going to help. Nothing can fix this for my sister.”

Edwin’s expression turned troubled. “It’s not always our jobs to fix bad things when they happen.”

“Then whose job is it?” Lyssa asked quietly.

“I’m afraid time is often the only answer to the worst pains. But we can find moments of joy to help carry us, and then eventually the pain becomes just an ache, and the ache becomes a memory.”

What a petrifying thought. Simply waiting for things to get better, not knowing if they actually would. It was true, Lyssa had never struggled with trusting that a scrape on the knee always healed, and a mean word stopped stinging when enough kind ones were thrown at it. But death? Betrayal? Loss?

A boom of thunder shook the forever-altered kitchen window. It was no longer the shining display of the sun on the book, as the rays of light only touched the empty field of grass, but it was enough, at least, to keep the rain at bay.

“Edwin, this was a silly idea. Why did you let me try to make beef cookies for the babies?” Lyssa frowned at the disgusting-smelling dough with a dubious look.

“Because, Miss Lyssa,” Edwin replied fondly, “you remind me of a young boy I spent a great deal of time with at my bakery. He, too, was kind-spirited; he, too, wanted to help in any way he could…” Edwin’s eyes softened, and he began, without question, rolling the gross meat-covered cookie dough into circular formations before putting them on the pan. “He knew how important an act of kindness was, to help people. More important even than words.”

Lyssa frowned. “Words are important, too, Edwin.”

Edwin contemplated, eyes thoughtful when they returned to hers. “You’re right, Miss Lyssa. Words are important; they allow you to hold out hope while you’re waiting for that help to come.”

The cookies came together quickly after they’d returned to their task, rolling them in silence, waiting in even more silence until they were finished. They then carried them together to the pen in the healer’s quarters, where Blade rolled a ball around for the two small animals. They both chirped excitedly and ran toward the gate when Lyssa walked in.

And with them was…another ogre?

His blue hands were over the animals, palms aglow, shifting multicolored, glittering light through his large fingers and moving it about the animals with a stern look of concentration on his face.