Villain's Assistant

by Carley Hibbert

Rebecca thought of Sir Wendell as she let her first knife go. It stuck in the assassin’s left arm, slowing him down enough for her to get between him and her uncle. Silver flashed as his knife appeared. Rebecca dived from the table and onto a man twice her size, her chin crunching into his nose. Blood bloomed in her mouth as she thrust another knife into the assassin’s throat. When they hit the floor, her knife tore through the man’s flesh as she rolled away from him, crimson marking her path.

  The screaming and clatter returned, just as a force whipped her away. Sir Wendell clenched her to his chest as he repeated that everything was okay. Pain erupted in her left side as Sir Wendell’s arms brushed against the assassin’s knife that stuck in her corset. She screamed.

  Guards streamed toward the bleeding, gasping man on the floor. Aldo, unharmed, stood with his own sword drawn. His face was gray, and his eyes were rimmed in white as he stared at Rebecca. Two guards pulled the king from the room as the lights from the chandeliers glared harshly. Rebecca’s hand was covered in blood. Her dress. Sir Wendell. All of it red and hot. Her head floated away. Her body trembled. She had been hurt. Her side throbbed like a second heart. She was bleeding.

  “The surgeon. We need the surgeon!” Sir Wendell called out.

  “Rebecca!”

  Someone lifted her from Sir Wendell’s arms. Her arms were too weak to wrap around his neck. Her eyes were open, but she didn’t take in any of the events around her. Her arms flailed awkwardly with her head.

  “Rebecca! Rebecca!” She focused her eyes on the face next to hers. Denny? Why was he weeping?

  Dally’s voice hovered close by. Rebecca was laid on something hard. Martha glowered down at her and pulled out the knife. Everything in her vision went white as Rebecca screamed until her throat burned. Martha pressed down on the wound, sending another shock of pain through Rebecca’s body.

  “What have you done? What have you done? And we only just got you back,” Martha’s voice wavered, but then her sternness returned as she directed guards and kitchen staff alike.

  Dally held her hand as something wet was poured over her wound, causing her to thrash and twist. An unholy sound filled her ears. Was that her? A scuffle could be heard somewhere beyond her vision.

  “Get him out! Now!” Martha ordered between Rebecca’s screams. “It’s not so bad. By the Great Wolves! I think she might make it. Bless your royal corset!”

  FIFTY NINE

  “Someone stop that kid!” Benjamin screamed as he passed bewildered servants. Baldo passed undeterred. “Help!”

  Finally, a girl with hair as bright as flame stepped in front of Baldo, and both were knocked to the ground. He bounced up, but she grabbed his leg. It took a kick to her ribs to loosen her grip. Benjamin barely spared her a glance as he ran by. Some of the other kitchen staff were already running to help her, successfully obstructing the guards.

  Waves of heat danced through Benjamin’s body to the pounding behind his ears. He saw nothing and thought of nothing but the spindly legs that ran from him. Benjamin dodged carts and jumped over flailing maids, who lay bewildered on the ground. The gap was closing. Benjamin could feel power rushing through his veins, as his feet slammed against the floor and pushed him closer to his target. There was nothing else but Benjamin’s rage. It grew in him, threatening to burn everything around him.

  The hallways grew empty and dark. Baldo slipped invisibly through the shadows, but Benjamin knew he was there. Slivers of light occasionally revealed a spindly leg or arm. Baldo ran a straight line as if he was going somewhere. This is a diversion. Benjamin stumbled into a dark courtyard. Where’s Shreb? The thought slammed into Benjamin, stopping him cold. He scanned the courtyard. Baldo was gone.

  “Yes, I’m here,” a deep voice crooned from a shadow.

  Benjamin panted, his body quivering. Sweat trickled from his hairline. He wiped it away.

  “When I heard who you were, I have to say that I was disappointed,” Shreb hissed as he stepped out of a shadow. He was wearing a red velvet jacket. “Black-Eyed Barnaby’s son? Tsk, tsk.” He smiled malevolently. “How I hated that man. Probably as much as my father loved him.”

  Shreb’s eyes flashed dangerously, but he drew a calm breath as he fiddled with his rings. “I’m not the only one disappointed by your choices.”

  “Choices? Like you hiring Mouthrot? That kind of sealed the deal for me.”

  “Oh? So you plotted with the king to remove your rival so that you could have his job? That is bordering on grandiose.” Shreb tugged on a jeweled cufflink and raised an eyebrow. “I love it! Well, I do have a position available, though Baldo seems ready for a promotion. Should we have a little contest? I would be curious to see who wins. I think Baldo might surprise all of us.”

  “With a knife in your back, you mean?”

  Shreb smiled at this. “No, I have someone watching my back. How about you?” He nodded at someone behind Benjamin.

  “That’s right.” A woman’s icy voice pierced Benjamin’s heart. It can’t be her. He turned. The woman in purple glistened in the dark like the stars. She was only a head taller than Baldo, who grinned behind her skirt. The world seemed to grind slowly down onto Benjamin’s head. His mother stepped out of the shadows.

  “No.” Benjamin shook his head defiantly.

  “I didn’t endure years of motherhood so that you could end up exactly like your father! I am disappointed.” Ursula’s eyes narrowed. “I sabotaged, intimidated, and eliminated your competition at school. You think you were the head of your class because you were so good? You can’t even defeat a waif of a farm boy!”

  “My mother is dead!”

  Ursula lifted up a shuttered lantern and opened it. It cast cruel shadows upward on her face. She pushed the jewel-encrusted headdress back from her face, revealing a sneer, which twisted her features into an inhuman expression. “I am glad to know my demise worked so well. It was not pleasant to undergo. I wouldn’t recommend it, but I had such high hopes for you.”

  Benjamin tried to fight the desire to approach the woman, but he couldn’t. He leaned in closer to her. It was known that some of the greatest villains faked their own deaths. There were ways. Benjamin looked into the woman’s dazzling indigo eyes.

  “Don’t look like a wounded cow! You needed motivation. It got you to make a choice, didn’t it? You were always waffling, unable to decide anything. It was the push you needed. You fought me on everything. I saw the only way you’d enter that school was in honor of my memory. Poof. Dead mother, right before you received your acceptance letter.”

  “I thought Sir Wendell arrested you.” He clenched his fists together until he felt his nails cut into the flesh of his hands. He willed himself to stay here in the moment and pushed his dizziness away.

  “No, he was busy. In his defense, the banquet was a mess. No good wine to drink.”

  Benjamin’s legs felt weak. Had he been poisoned? He glanced behind the woman in purple, looking for the soldiers who had followed him out of the hall. He really needed to sit down, but he willed himself to stand.

  “They’re not coming. You successfully lost them with a little help from me, as always.” She walked past him in measured steps.

  “My mother is dead,” Benjamin whispered, barely able to hear his own words.

  Ursula leaned close to his ear, her large sleeve scratching his jaw. “We can still fix this. Come with me. This is where you are supposed to be.” She flicked her silver fan open in front of him, reflecting his pale face back to both of them.

  “This was where you were always supposed to be, but he derailed us.” Emotion rattled Ursula Black’s voice.

  Benjamin saw her bat away tears. She collapsed the fan and stepped back to regain command of herself. When she faced him again, she said nothing but stared at him for a long time. Baldo stepped back into the shadows, preparing to do who knows what. Facing two dead parents was too much.

  What’s next? he wondered. Not-really-dead grandparents?

  Benjamin�
�s ears steamed as Ursula prowled around him like a wild cat.

  “You come from a long line of villains, you know. My father. His father. My brother.”

  A chill so violent ran through his body that Benjamin’s legs nearly buckled. He blinked back at the woman in purple. She smiled but said no more. She circled back around him toward Shreb. Benjamin forced himself to turn, to follow her. She flicked her fan, obviously reveling in the moment. Shreb admired his ring glinting in the moonlight. Meanwhile, a heavy rock was dragging Benjamin under murky water. The villains greedily watched him drown.

  “He doesn’t look so well,” Shreb whined. “I’m not carrying him.”

  “Of course not! Benjamin needs to walk out of here on his own feet.” Ursula slapped her fan against her brother’s shoulder. “He knows what he needs to do.”

  “My mother is dead—” Benjamin said feebly, just to hear it once more. The woman who used to be his mother stared out at him through sparkling jewels and layers of makeup. Her look of impatience shattered the fog in his mind. “You did all of this just to get me?”

  She smiled. “Not just you.” He hated when she was condescending.

  The sound of broken glass echoed in Benjamin’s memory. He thought of Branwen and Rebecca. “My friends!”

  “You don’t have friends! Only alliances!” Ursula shrieked, pointing her fan at him. “Remember? Did nothing I taught you sink in? Well, that alliance is now dead.”

  She signaled them all to leave. Benjamin stepped back. He clutched one of his daggers. What did she mean? Dead? Rebecca? Ursula reached an arm out as if to scoop him up. No! Repulsion tore through his core at the thought of her touch. He slashed through his mother’s sleeve and ran. His mother’s screams ricocheted through the courtyard. “You belong to me!”

  “My mother is dead!”

  Benjamin regretted every drop of strength he wasted in chasing Baldo. His legs shook as he stumbled across the courtyard. He burst through a doorway, collapsing into a castle guard. “That way!” he gasped. “They went that way!”

  “Who?”

  My mother. “Shreb and his gang! In the courtyard.” Benjamin pointed with his dagger, a glimmer of red visible at the tip.

  SIXTY

  The guard went white, but gestured for the others to follow him. Benjamin lowered his dagger—unable to look at the blood darkening the blade. He stumbled toward the great hall. Golden light reached out of the open doors. He wasn’t sure that he was completely in his body. A cacophony enveloped him as he crossed the threshold.

  Noblewomen were clustered in the far corners, fanning one another, as elderly husbands propped fragile wives up. Sir Wendell issued orders from the dais, not far from where the king had been sitting. The golden room dimmed. Benjamin’s legs gave out. Suddenly an arm thrust around him, keeping him on his feet. A dirty eye patch looked down at him. The Lieutenant!

  “She’s alive! She was with Shreb!”

  The Lieutenant pushed his eye patch back. “She? Shreb? Who’s with Shreb?” His dark eye pulled Benjamin out of his shock.

  Benjamin directed his father’s gaze with his blood-tipped dagger. “Mother. She’s here!”

  His father’s jaws flexed. He handed Benjamin over to someone who smelled like goat. Warm, muscled arms wrapped around him.

  “Branwen!” Benjamin’s scream tore through the chaos of the room.

  Sir Wendell’s head snapped up. “He’s in conference with the king.”

  Benjamin gasped in relief to hear the king was alive. “Shreb is here!”

  With a nod from Sir Wendell, guards cleared the room. A large, bloody mess lay below the king’s table. Benjamin dropped his knife and staggered forward. He had to see. All that blood. Broken glasses, dishes, and place settings littered the floor from the bloody heap to where Benjamin had been sitting earlier. Rebecca climbed over the table? Why would she do that?

  “Where is she?”

  Denny emerged from the kitchens; a mix of dust and blood streaked his shirt and face. He scowled through blurry, fiery blue eyes.

  “Where were you?” Denny growled, charging across the hall. One of Odie’s arms swung out to halt Denny’s attack.

  “Where is Rebecca?” Benjamin felt his spine and legs fill with strength he did not know he had. Odie let go of him and slipped between the two boys. Benjamin stepped toward Denny and held his gaze. “Where is Rebecca?”

  Denny could only glare.

  Odie pointed toward the kitchens, while keeping one hand on Denny’s chest.

  “Benjamin!” Dally stepped out of the doorway and gestured. “I thought I heard you yelling!”

  Benjamin met Denny’s red glare again. Odie wrapped both arms around his older brother, his eyes also red.

  Benjamin headed toward Dally. Her black dress had a dark, wet spot in the front, one of her diamond buttons tinged burgundy. Dally grabbed his arm and led him through the thickness of the room. Her fingernail beds were crusted brown. Fear swelled against Benjamin’s heart with every step. Dally looked pale and serious.

  Rebecca lay on a large kitchen table. Food and dishes lay scattered under the table. The Lady Jalene’s tears glittered off her dark lashes, and she motioned for a tall servant to step aside. Rebecca’s hand reached out for him. Relief slammed against him, forcing a cry out of his mouth.

  She’s alive!

  Benjamin grabbed her hand with both of his. Her hand was cold and sticky, and every wrinkle and crease was filled with blood.

  Rebecca opened her eyes to look at Benjamin. “Did you catch him?” she rasped.

  Benjamin shook his head. Rebecca squeezed her eyes shut.

  A muscled woman washed the blood off her face and arms, while a stern woman pressed down on a stack of perfectly white kitchen towels, dark blood seeping through. Both women had tears in their eyes. They crooned comforting nonsense that even Benjamin found reassuring.

  Jalene broke through his shock. “There was a footman with a knife. We were all so busy looking at our wine that no one saw him except Rebecca. She pulled out her knives.” Jalene gasped and sucked in her tears. Her fingers shook as she twisted them together. “We never thought Aldo was in danger. He has his own bodyguards.”

  The king’s personal surgeon parted the crowd, and Benjamin and Jalene were escorted from the table. Branwen waited by the stoves, his white hair in disarray without his usual black cap. Guards ushered Jalene away; Aldo wanted her with him. Dally took her place beside Rebecca.

  “Tell me everything that happened,” Branwen said, swooping down on Benjamin and wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

  Benjamin blinked blindly. “Is she going to be okay?”

  “There is a lot of blood.” Branwen glanced over his shoulder at the doctor, biting his lip. “But it’s not as bad as it looks. Benjamin, focus!”

  He snapped to the present. A chair was brought for him, and he told Branwen all that had happened on his foolish chase. Branwen was not surprised to hear that his mother was still alive. A sick feeling grew inside his chest as he retold the tale, Jalene’s words repeating in his head.

  “We were all so busy looking at our wine. No one saw him.”

  “This was my fault,” Benjamin tagged at the end of his story.

  “Your fault?”

  “I fell for their trap. I provided the distraction that they needed.”

  “No. This was Ursula’s doing, not yours.” Branwen rubbed his face. Benjamin noticed that his hump was more pronounced than usual. “She spent the last sixteen years planning this. You’ve been involved for a month with only a glimpse of the whole truth. No one could beat Ursula with those odds, including your father. Or me, I might add.” Branwen shook his head.

  A humorless laugh cut through Benjamin’s chest as if severing his heart from his body. The old man’s words should have comforted him, but his friend still lay bleeding on a table, and words would not change that. He could not see Rebecca, but he could see Dally’s set jaw as she watched the surgeon and knew it would be
okay. It had to be.

  “What did she mean? Her father? Her brother?” Benjamin hesitated as he tried force the name out through the swirling mess of his mind. “Not Shr—”

  Branwen looked up. His lips drew tightly together and his eyes became stone. “I’ll let your father explain that.” He bowed and walked away.

  Benjamin sank into his chair and swiped his damp hair off his face. The Lieutenant stood just inside the kitchen, watching as the doctor pulled out his thread and needle. Odie slouched beside the Lieutenant. Both looked away, but Dally’s eyes stayed fixed on the doctor’s needle. Benjamin looked down at the stone floor.

  “I can do that for you, if you can’t make your stiches smaller,” Dally stated forcefully. “I have more experience with a needle than you.”

  SIXTY ONE

  The four of them sat together, feeling miserable. Branwen had tucked them away in a small room. Benjamin sensed a burning on the side of his head. He leaned back to hide behind Odie’s thick frame, thereby avoiding the heat of Denny’s death glare. He resented that Denny dumped blame on him for everything. It was lazy, in his opinion. But Benjamin didn’t have the energy to deal with Denny’s petty arguments.

  The Lieutenant sat across from the boys. He looked like he’d been smashed in the face by a chair. I must look like that too. Benjamin certainly felt that way.

  A golden wolf’s head stared out from Aldo’s royal crest, next to the old man. Benjamin’s head swirled, and he dropped his head into his hands. He had been twisted and manipulated his whole life by his mother until he chose to enter the Villains’ Academy. He graduated the head of his class by avoiding personal connections. Thoughts of filling Black-Eyed Barnaby’s shoes spurred him through those lonely years. Is that what I’m doing now? Following in my real father’s footsteps? Is that what I want to do? Is there a third option? Benjamin felt nauseated.

  He sat up and scrubbed his hair, as if that would force his mind to calm down. Ursula had hinted that Benjamin came from a long line of villains—her father and brother. He tried really hard not to understand those words. But the more he shut his mind to them, the more they swirled through his thoughts like a cyclone. His chest tightened as he opened his mouth. “Fa-Lieutenant?”