Chapter 33
Kingsley
Alexander had to admit, even solely to himself, that there were benefits to being an amphibian.
Not as many as being human, mind you, but they existed. For example, if there was something odd happening within the manor, he was always the first to know. He went unobserved so often, he’d begun to treat it like an art form.
When you were human, everyone took note of what you were doing and where you were.
It didn’t serve with Alexander’s purposes. But there really wasn’t a price to be put on usable thumbs.
“There you are, Lyssa!” Evie called with relief, running toward her sister in the empty office space. “I thought surely you’d be in the kitchens, but Edwin said you hadn’t been down.” Evie threw her arms around the little girl. “I was worried you hadn’t returned.”
Lyssa’s small hands squeezed Evie back tightly. “Me? You’ve been gone all day! Where were you?”
“I almost got turned into soup and insulted a giant.” Evie released her sister to give her a serious stare.
“I hate when that happens,” Lyssa replied somberly.
“Don’t leave us in suspense, little villain.” Trystan ushered them to a corner lit with several torches. “Were you successful? Do we have the adult guvres on the premises?”
Lyssa’s face went from light and carefree to guarded and flighty.
An expression that, in Alexander’s experience, was prelude to chaotic entertainment. Especially when a Sage was involved.
Trystan’s eyes softened at the little girl’s nervousness. “If we don’t, there is no consequence to you—nor would there ever be.”
Lyssa blinked, wide-eyed, like the thought hadn’t even occurred to her. “I know. I’m just not sure how to answer you. If we could just find the others…”
“Hold on—” Evie started.
“Oh, Kingsley! You’re a frog again!” Lyssa interrupted, eyes darting around, fidgeting.
Kingsley hopped toward a basket of his signs, took hold of the chalk, and scribbled down his one word to convey many.
He kicked it off with an old favorite.
Sucks
“That’s enough,” Trystan objected, giving Alexander a pointed look. “Lyssa. What is going on?”
The sound of scrambling footsteps echoed rapidly down the hall. “You’re the one who left the door open, and you’re calling me irresponsible?” Tatianna’s voice rose first, and Becky’s followed.
“I didn’t leave it open; it got caught on one of your absurdly long scarves.”
“My scarf wasn’t there!” Tatianna replied.
“That’s because Cassandra ate it!” Becky screeched, the pair of them skidding to a halt in front of them. “Shit.” Her eyes moved to Lyssa. “Shoot. I said shoot.”
“Before that, you said shit,” Lyssa muttered, handing a gold coin to Evie.
“Who’s Cassandra?” Malcolm asked curiously. “A beautiful friend of yours, I hope.”
“Cassandra’s a little young for you, Malcolm,” Clare said as she joined them, looking pinched and unhappy. Her resting expression these days. “Wonderful. Everything at the manor went to the deadlands while you were gone. Hope whatever you were doing was worth it.”
Alexander smiled inwardly, finding it more than amusing that a place Clare once swore she’d never step foot in had become a place she clearly desired to protect.
“We were retrieving a key. One that Benedict needs to enact a curse that would replace today’s version of Rennedawn with one in which I never became The Villain—if that qualifies as worth it.
” Trystan waved his hand in front of Clare’s gobsmacked expression.
“How much of that got through, Clarissa?”
“Enough that I’m nauseous,” she mumbled, rubbing at her temples.
“The manor seems quiet, Clare. What could you possibly be fretting over?” Evie observed, looking about for signs of disturbance.
“Everybody duck!” Blade screamed, as a poof of purple fog rolled in and everyone flopped to the floor. Except Alexander, for obvious reasons.
Trystan threw his hands over Lyssa’s and Evie’s heads, blocking them from seeing the purple vapor wash over a desk, melting it.
No, Alexander thought.
There was only one sort of animal with such capabilities, and they were meant to be nowhere near Massacre Manor. But a tiny screech confirmed it, and Alexander’s mouth dropped open when he saw not one but two baby guvres chirping like birds.
And he knew then.
That he’d failed.
“Where is the mother, if I might ask?” Trystan was attempting to speak with a measured calm that was clearly ill-controlled, judging by the way his body tensed. He helped Lyssa and Evie to their feet as the purple fog cleared.
Lyssa pointed to Becky, and even in Alexander’s panic, he croaked a laugh at the HR woman’s horrified expression. “That isn’t funny,” she grumbled, folding her arms, and with a pout, she scooped up the brown one. “Cassandra is a temporary guest until her mother arrives. I’m a glorified nanny.”
Cassandra was nesting happily in Becky’s hair when the boy leaped into Evie’s arms, and she gasped like she’d just been given diamonds. “Oh, he’s darling, isn’t he?” The sadness that seemed to linger around Evie of late morphed into a warmth that filled the room.
“He’s one of the most lethal creatures in existence, Sage,” Trystan pointed out with a monotone delivery that didn’t match the way he was gazing at her cooing at the small thing. “We should cage them until we decide how to proceed.”
“You’ll have to cage me with them, then,” she replied with false sweetness, bouncing the boy like he was an infant. “Have you named him?”
“Clarke,” Lyssa said.
Alexander quickly scribbled down a word.
Why
A perfect descriptor of all areas of his current life.
Lyssa shrugged. “They both start with C. We were keeping them in the healer’s quarters, but they got out while we were looking with Gideon.”
Evie’s brow furrowed. “For what?”
Gideon chimed in, strolling into the office area beside Keeley. “Oh good, you found them. May we go back to searching now?”
Alexander had a keen eye for human nature; the smallest of actions could open up for him the truth of a person’s character. He’d mastered this skill as both prince and frog. It was how he knew immediately what Gideon was going to say.
“We have reason to believe the second book of Rennedawn is hidden here in the manor.”
Alexander shut his eyes tight, knowing that with this discovery…
Their fate was sealed.