Violet Thistlewaite Is Not a Villain Anymore by Emily Krempholtz - 3

Grimy puddles filled the missing cobblestones in the streets of Dragon’s Rest, pockmarks of muck that spoke louder than words of what had become of the town. In the decades since Shadowfade had built his fortress on the craggy peak that towered over the edge of its borders, Dragon’s Rest had gone from a prosperous community to a mountainside ghost town full of closed shutters and chipped paint.

The letter Violet had retrieved from the post office said she could meet her new landlord at Wingspan Green, and the postmaster said she’d know the town’s largest park when she saw it, but despite the directions she’d scrawled on the back of the parchment, Violet was hopelessly lost.

“How does anyone navigate this place?” she wondered aloud, looking up at the darkening sky. Rava and Evry, two of the three moons, had already come to life for the evening, illuminating the hand-painted street signs on the corner. Evry was nearly full, and Violet was glad—she could use some of the goddess’s bold nature now. Dragon’s Rest wasn’t a large town, but its winding, sloping streets curved and twisted like an errant vine creeping up a stone wall, looking for purchase.

“Are you lost, dear?” A tall elf woman with pale skin and a saffron-colored hair wrap approached Violet, her smile kind.

Violet ducked her head behind the potted plant in her arms. There was no reason for anyone in Dragon’s Rest to recognize her, not unless she lost control of her magic, but still, she felt a spike of concern at having to interact with strangers.

No one will recognize you , she convinced herself. Still, Bartleby the pothos, with his broad, heart-shaped leaves, was a good disguise. Sensing her hesitation, the potted plant patted her on the shoulder, his flat leaves either smoothing the wrinkles in her cloak or trying to strangle her. It was often hard to tell with Bartleby. “I’m looking for Wingspan Green?”

The woman pointed back in the direction Violet had just come from. “You just missed the turnoff. Head that way and take a left at the first corner, then keep going straight. You can’t miss it.”

“Thank you,” said Violet, peeking out from behind Bartleby to offer the woman a smile she hoped didn’t look threatening. She was leaving that life behind. She was going to be good now, like Karina the Tempest had told her to.

Sure enough, now that she was headed in the right direction, Wingspan Green was easy to spot from several blocks away. The large, circular park was surrounded by battered storefronts with faded awnings. It was carpeted with green grass and lined with trees, which were just beginning to bud in defiance of these last stubborn days of winter, and the very presence of the greenery made Violet breathe a little easier. Paths meandered through the space, dotted with benches and a few small tables as well as what seemed to be a platform near the center, though it was blocked by a huge rock formation that looked as though it had tumbled down from the mountains sometime in the last thousand years and had since been tucked into bed beneath a blanket of moss.

Bartleby shuddered.

“Oh, shush you,” Violet scolded him.

Before he had been turned into a plant, Bartleby wouldn’t have just argued with her, he’d have towered over her and threatened bodily injury for shushing him like a child. He still managed to find ways to menace Violet on a near-daily basis, but she’d been careful to remove all sharp implements from within reach of his vines before they set off for Dragon’s Rest.

“I think it’s lovely,” she said now, both to herself and to him. “The place has loads of potential.” She stepped onto the grass, wishing she were barefoot so she could feel the soil beneath her toes. No flowers anywhere, but then, without magic like hers, it was too early in the season yet. Cesenne, the goddess of the third moon, whose phases heralded the changing of the seasons, would soon wax anew as spring began, and Violet suspected the park would liven up then. Perhaps once she’d settled and opened her shop, she could add a few flower beds to give it some splashes of color. A pang of longing for her gardens struck her, quickly suppressed by complicated relief for her own freedom.

She would plant a new garden here in Dragon’s Rest and open a shop where she could sell her flowers. Just the thought of surrounding herself with blooms all day made her feel lighter. No one would have to know who she once was or how she’d once used her magic. She bent to stroke the grass and couldn’t resist releasing just a bit of power from the well deep in her core. As easy as exhaling, especially under the moons, her magic spilled into the grass, making it grow tall enough to tickle Violet’s wrist and wrap lovingly around her fingers in the one embrace she’d cherished her whole life. It was hard sometimes, when she did little things like this, to remember that her plant magic was evil at heart, but she’d done enough terrible things as the Thornwitch that she couldn’t deny it.

Your own mother knew the truth about you , whispered a voice in her head nearly as recognizable as her own. She saw the darkness in your magic and she abandoned you for it. You are so lucky I found you, petal. You will always have a home with me.

But now Shadowfade was dead and that home was gone.

If she could keep that dark part of herself locked away, perhaps Violet could call this place home. Yes, it was dingy and a little weather-beaten, but then, so was she. Here, she could finally start over. Maybe she would learn who she could be without Guy Shadowfade. Without the Thornwitch.

The Violet who opened a flower shop in Dragon’s Rest would have no idea what it was like to watch the life leave someone’s eyes. She’d never have heard the wails of an entire village as she sank their homes into a bog that hadn’t existed before she swept into town. Bartleby was simply a fondly named houseplant, not one of her former adversaries who’d spent the last half decade transformed into a potted pothos.

Violet Thistlewaite, she decided, was kind and generous. She came from a loving family with parents who had wanted her, and maybe some siblings who teased her about moving so far away. Nieces and nephews whose faces lit up in delight when Auntie Vi conjured flower crowns for their hair and grew playhouses for them of hardy-yet-thornless bramble. Violet Thistlewaite had no dark side looming behind her like a shadow. She could sleep through the night without waking in a cold sweat from nightmares of her past. She could—

A scream cut the air like one of Guy’s enchanted daggers through her rosebushes.

Violet stood fast enough to make her head whirl, which reminded her she hadn’t eaten yet today. There, just behind the rock formation, was a flash of movement that Violet soon recognized as a woman running.

“Get away from me, you bloody nuisances!” she cried, turning to throw what appeared to be her shoe behind her.

A moment later, a creature rumbled into view. Violet gasped as she took in the blocky granite legs and massive height of the beast. It was two-legged and ungainly, with no visible head and a long tail that appeared to be missing great chunks. The whole thing seemed to be cobbled together from stone. Its rocky body scraped as it moved, and although it wasn’t very quick, it definitely wasn’t the type of creature anyone would want chasing after them.

Be good , the Tempest had challenged her. Violet placed Bartleby carefully on the ground, raised her hands to chest level, and shouted, “ Oy! ” The woman noticed her then, her eyes widening, and Violet cried, “Duck!”

Unleashing her power was like opening a tap. Magic flooded Violet’s chest and spread eagerly through her veins like roots through soft earth, until even her toes were warm with energy. With a sweep of her hands, Violet pulled tree branches into clawed fingers that reached menacingly for the beast and sprouted vines from the ground, which wrapped tight around its limbs.

Her eyes were glowing, as they always did when she used dark magic, but she reserved a sliver of her attention to making sure her skin didn’t burst with thorns as it did when she was the Thornwitch. She intended to make a home here without anyone knowing who she was, and that meant not letting them see the fearsome face on the wanted posters. Violet focused as the bespelled plants snatched at the creature, breaking it into dozens of pieces that flew across the park and, to her surprise, scrabbled away on legs of their own, making small, croaking noises as they ran.

Rock goblins , Violet realized. She knew groups of them, called slides, could combine to become a much larger creature, but she’d never seen one before. Her magic begged her to follow them, to give chase, to become the predator she had always been. It was a siren call she was well used to heeding, and for a moment, she almost did. But no. Violet coaxed the trees back to their original shapes, closing her eyes and willing their appearance to return to normal as well. She’d almost lost control for a second there, and it couldn’t happen again. No more dark magic , she’d promised herself when she left Shadowfade Castle. She was starting over. She was good now.

It was too bad dark magic was all she knew.

“Quick thinking,” said the woman, panting, as she trotted over to Violet. “That slide is obsessed with me.”

Violet couldn’t tell whether she was joking or not. She settled for a simple “Ah.”

The woman winked at her. “I’m a musician. They like music, I reckon. It’s always been more amusing than anything, but they’re getting out of control lately. Ever since—” The woman looked behind Violet, and a chill strummed her spine as she realized she was referring to the silhouette of Shadowfade Castle, just visible on the crags of the mountain above Dragon’s Rest like a sinister sentinel peering down at them.

Violet felt suddenly embarrassed.

The woman continued. “I’ve never seen anyone get rid of them with quite so much… oomph . That was a hefty bit of magic you just did there.”

“I panicked a little,” Violet admitted with a nervous giggle. She had gotten used to being around power when she was surrounded by Guy and his associates. Shadowfade had collected powerful mages like toys, and Violet had stood out even among them. In a place like Dragon’s Rest, among ordinary folk, she’d have to be careful not to show too much of herself. She didn’t want to draw any questions.

The woman nodded. She was about Violet’s age, maybe a few years older, and tall, with warm brown skin and dark brown eyes. Her long hair wound down her back in an elaborate braid that swung to the rhythm of her steps, and she wore a bright patterned dress with colorful, intricate embroidery on the bodice, and a number of scarves around her waist and neck. Violet’s own clothes were expensive and well-made, but much simpler: wide-legged gray trousers and an oversized men’s shirt, accented with a fur-trimmed cloak of midnight blue.

It had been weeks, but it still thrilled her to wear them—Guy had always insisted she wear tight leathers spelled against damage so she could move easily without being caught or snagged, as well as her recognizable purple cloak, all the better to strike fear into the hearts of her enemies from a distance, long before they were within her range. He had been a showman, but now that he was gone, Violet would be pleased if she never saw the color purple ever again. The looser men’s clothes she’d stolen from the castle before she left for good were overlarge and made her feel like she could disappear in them if she wished. Become truly invisible. Truly free.

“You wouldn’t happen to be Violet Thistlewaite, would you?” the woman asked, and Violet felt that surge of panic rise in her once more, like the woman would be able to smell the dark magic on her.

No one knows your name , she reminded herself. No one here knows the identity of the Thornwitch. She cleared her throat. “Yes. That’s me.”

“I thought as much. It’s not often we get newcomers here.” The woman’s grin lit her whole face as she thrust out a hand for Violet to shake. “I’m Prudence Marsh, your new landlord. Welcome to Dragon’s Rest.”