Evie

“That’s mine, Helena,” Evie said softly.

She was sure Clare and Tati would assume she was talking about the dagger, but the dagger was not what she was looking at—or rather who she was looking at. Trystan was held between two of the larger goons, struggling in their grip.

Please kiss me.

Not now, she begged herself. Her lingering mortification would have to wait until she was alone and could properly scream into a pillow.

Clare stepped forward. “Release my brother this instant, ruffians.” “Actors,” Fritz corrected, the rest of his companions nodding.

This knocked everyone silent. Helena groaned into her hands. “Fritz, not now!”

The man looked hurt and loosened his grip, and that opening seemed to ignite something inside her. Her scar tingled, but instead of just the sensation, her whole shoulder glowed, as it had before she’d dispatched Otto Warsen—but this time, the glow was an array of rainbow hues. Her shoulders were bare, with only the corset holding up her chemise, so not only was it visible, it was seriously bright.

“Gods, Evie!” Tati said, covering her eyes.

“Mine,” she said again, eyes still not on the dagger, but it answered her call anyway, glowing the same rainbow hue—and then soaring out of Fritz’s hand and back into her own. The Villain didn’t waste the opening created by the men’s surprise; he shouldered away, bolting to her side. Evie angled her body in front of his, gripping the dagger tightly in her hand.

“It’s over, Helena. We’re leaving.” Evie waved her dagger in the direction of the goons, who covered their heads and ducked away from the glowing magic blade that had answered her call. She was prepared for a fight, if that

was what it took. Nobody would harm her or Trystan again. She knew how to use her dagger and would readily discard her heavy morality to—

Helena’s full lips went into a pout before she looked down and picked at her nails. “All right.”

Evie’s racing mind ground to a halt. “Wait, that’s it? ‘All right’?”

Helena shrugged and combed a hand through her hair, looking like she was over the whole thing. “I was going to let you go anyway. I just wanted to see how you’d fare locked up together for a little while.” Her cousin leveled a smirk at their soaked undergarments. “I had ten coins on clothing being discarded.”

She held out her hand to Douglas, who stood to the side, book still in hand. He glared at Evie as he emptied his pockets and handed a pile of coins to Helena.

The Villain’s anger radiated off him. “You planned to sell your cousin and me out to the king—and you gambled on us as well?”

Helena snorted. “It was a sure bet. And I was never going to sell you out.

The king’s the reason our theater is nearly bankrupt.” Evie frowned. “How do you mean?”

Helena maintained her haughty stance, but Evie could tell her eyes were haunted. “This theater used to be blessed by the gods’ magic. Objects coming alive, animals joining the crew, the sets practically building themselves. But lately it’s like the magic is…”

“Fading,” Evie finished.

Helena didn’t hide the pain in her eyes this time. “Exactly.” She ran a hand down the side of the building. “The Deadlands Theater is dying.”

“And you blame the king?” Clare asked, picking up Kingsley before he chased after a fly.

Playing with the ends of her hair, Helena said, “It’s his fault. He’s been rumored to be pushing the bounds of magic for years—clearly the rumors are true. And now we all must pay the price.”

Evie walked over to her cousin and gripped one of her hands. She’d admonish herself later for forgiving too quickly, but she had so little family left to spare, and as careless as Helena was, she was still a part of it. “What do you mean? The king claims to be trying to enact the prophecy to save Rennedawn.”

Helena sighed, her shoulders drooping, but she didn’t release Evie’s hand. “There are whispers in the Heart Village about Benedict. Not everyone is as

loyal as you think they are. Benedict has destroyed families by tampering with magic, and if you want my opinion, I think he plans to steal it all.”

Evie’s heart raced, thoughts coming all at once instead of one at a time. Benedict’s desperation to fulfill Rennedawn’s Story…could it be a ruse to mask his true intention? Was The Villain merely a scapegoat to hide his own evils? But her thoughts paused when Helena dug a pouch from her skirt pocket and dropped it in Evie’s shaking hands. “Aunt Nura left this behind. I should’ve sent it, but she asked me to wait for the right time. I suppose that’s now.”

The velvet pouch felt like it weighed at least ten pounds.

“I think she knew you’d come looking for her, goose. The day before she disappeared again, she handed it to me with this note.” A small, rolled-up scroll, no bigger than Evie’s index finger, was attached to the pouch, wrapped in a red ribbon. “I didn’t read it,” Helena added.

“She didn’t say where she was going?” Evie asked, far gentler than she’d been a moment ago. It felt like there were two versions of herself at war. One who was screaming at the top of her lungs with rage and anger and the other sitting quietly, hurting deeply, waiting for someone to notice. To care.

Helena shook her head, finally showing a small amount of sympathy. “No.

She just said to be sure you had it.”

Evie frowned but decided to take the high road. “Thank you, Helena.” And she meant it.

Helena nodded and dipped into a dramatic curtsy. “You should go. I may not be willing to turn you in, but there are plenty here who would.”

She was right; they needed to leave, but she couldn’t resist saying goodbye. “Helena?” Her cousin stopped, shiny hair glossy in the sunlight. Evie continued. “I’m sorry the magic fading…has hurt you.”

Helena’s voice was hollow. “It’s hurting everyone, Evie.”

She gripped the pouch in her hand, along with the scroll, as Helena and her actors started for the back doors to reenter the theater.

Helena halted, turning back to her cousin. “You should check the house. I always had a feeling she’d try to go back there.”

Evie shut her eyes tight, holding the dagger close to her chest. “She never came back, Helena.”

Her cousin shrugged. “Just because you didn’t see her doesn’t mean she wasn’t there.”

The dagger vibrated in her hand, her scar answering it, like they were both

warning her not to creep too close to the darkness warring in her heart. Like they were urging her to hold on to herself, on to hope.

But as they all walked silently back to the bridge, with no Nura and even more of the world unveiling its ugliness to her, Evie couldn’t help but wonder if she should be warring with it at all.