Page 82 of Violet Thistlewaite Is Not a Villain Anymore
Sedgwick froze.
“Good?” Sedgwick scoffed, but his voice trembled. He wanted to believe there was more to life. She could see it in his ragged expression even as he shook his head. “People like us are notgood, Thornwitch. You think you’re a hero now?”
“No.” It was the truth. “I’m not a hero. I don’t even know if Icanbe truly good. But I’m not the Thornwitch anymore either. I’m something different. Something better. You could be too.”
His jaw tightened. “You’re grasping for a fantasy.”
“I found it,” she said quietly. “Even if just for a little while, I found a home and a community. I built a life on my own terms, without Shadowfade. Don’t you want to try?”
For a moment she thought she had him convinced. They could end this without bloodshed and lay to rest any chance of Shadowfade’s return. Sedgwick could start over just like Violet had, and she’d help him do it.
But then his mouth twitched into a sneer, and cruelty clanked over his voice like a bolt sliding shut over a door. “I’ll never be anything other than this,” he drawled. “And neither will you. I didn’t set you free, Ibrokeyou. You’re fooling yourself, Thornwitch. For all your power, you’re weak.”
She let her eyes fall closed, his words sinking into her like knives. “I was afraid you might say that.”
“And now what? You’re going to turn all Thornwitch on me? Going to kill me? Go ahead and prove me right,Violet. Prove you’ll never be anything but a villain.” He spat her name like a curse, like a lie.
And maybe it was true. Maybe the Thornwitch would never truly leave her. Maybe she would always be a part of Violet.
But maybe…maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing.
Violet was different now than when she lived at this castle, and it was because she wanted to be. Because she was choosing to be different every single day. She might not yet feel worthy of her home and the love of those around her, but she was working at it.
Perhaps that’s what it meant to be good after all. Goodness wasn’t something you could justbe; it was something youdid. Violet had done terrible things, but it didn’t mean she needed tobe a villain for the rest of her life. Just like her magic, she was not good or evil until she chose to be, and she couldchoosegoodness and love and take steps every day to make sure she was worthy of her friends and her home and herself. It would never undo the past, but she owed it to herself and others to change her future.
To do better.
Bebetter.
Begood.
And it started right now, because her job today had never been to duel Sedgwick; it had been to stall for time.
“You were right about the Thornwitch, Tristan. She’s not as powerful alone.” Violet’s power buzzed within her, and from somewhere behind her rose the sound of a solitary violin.
The door to the Great Hall thundered open, just as they’d planned before she came up to the castle. Plan B.
The brightest constellations shine not from a single star, but many.
And as her friends poured through the doors of the Great Hall, armed and ready to defend their home—defendher—Violet’s smile grew. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Nathaniel among them; until that moment she hadn’t been sure he would come. But he caught her eye and nodded at her, removing a vial from the bandolier across his chest, and the feeling that grew inside Violet then felt a lot like hope. She didn’t know where they stood—didn’t know if he could forgive her for deceiving him—but he was here. That counted for something, didn’t it?
Violet turned back to Sedgwick. “I’m not alone anymore.”
The Dragon and the Hoard
Relief thrilled through Nathaniel as he caught sight of Violet through the open doors. Jerome had found her before it was too late, and she’d bought enough time talking to Sedgwick for them to catch up, just as they’d planned. There was so much he still needed to say to her, but he felt more hopeful than he had an hour ago that they would have time for that conversation.
And now here he stood next to his sister, who wielded her violin like a weapon, and Quinn, whose bees buzzed around her like a cyclone. Fallon, who held fire in their hands like clay. Even Bartleby, who was strapped to Jerome’s back with a dozen knives, real and improvised, clutched in his vines. Nathaniel felt his chest swell with a pride and loyalty he’d never felt while in the Crucible.
“Idiots,” screeched Sedgwick, pulling on a rope behind him. The curtain above them shuddered, caught in a web of vines clearly grown by Violet. Still, powder spilled from the edges, casting the room in a cloud of smoke.
“Don’t touch it!” Nathaniel cried, and hurled a vial toward thetrap on the ground in front of Sedgwick. Sure enough, it exploded with force and even more smoke.
“Watch out for Peri!” Violet yelled when Fallon followed up with a ball of fire, aiming for the unnervingly coffin-like box on the platform behind Sedgwick. Their magic was weak these days, as they’d explained to Nathaniel, so they’d filled clay bottles with accelerant. Fallon only had to light the hemp cord that protruded from one side and throw it in Sedgwick’s direction.
“Aye, watch your own end!” Fallon responded with a wink, jovial as ever. “I’ll bet you a dozen of Guy’s pastries my aim’s better than yours.”
Nathaniel looked for Peri and found the rock goblin in a heap on the ground. Sedgwick had recovered from the shock of being faced with a crowd of angry villagers and was scrambling to protect the ritual circle as well as the sinister coffin at its center. He wore his own bandolier of bottles and vials, and he plucked one from its bindings to throw at Violet. It shattered before her feet and an orange mist rose in the air, but she summoned a wall of leafy, thorny plants to block her from the mist. The vines froze in place, hardening with a loud crackle.
