“Her? Who?” asked his father, not understanding.
Ari took one more look to be certain. “It’s Ana.”
“Ana?” His father tore the Alchemist from Ari’s hands so he could see for himself. This person looked like a man at first glance, but when Ari looked harder he saw something else. He saw the hard stare of his sister’s eyes, the strong line of her jaw that she’d inherited from her father, and the straight nose that nobody had ever been sure where it came from.
“He’s right. It’s me, Father,” the Alchemist said. "The son you should have had.”
ANA
THE BEFORE
Ana and the Alchemist traveled as far away from the palace as they could without leaving Wintergreen. It was tempting to leave the kingdom but that just wasn’t possible. No other kingdom had soil as fertile as here. Which meant that no other kingdom had the same variety of thriving plant life needed to make the oils they required.
They came upon an abandoned cottage at the base of a mountain and decided it would make as good a home as any. It was built from timber and although it was only one room, it was large enough and had a stone fireplace at one end and a window at the other to let in some light. There was a table, two chairs, and a bed, all covered in rat droppings and in need of repair, but better than nothing. It was a starting point.
The Alchemist had desire burning behind his eyes as he scanned the cottage, paying particular interest to the bed. Ana had felt something altogether different. Ambition.
How dare her father force her to have to leave her home, all because of his refusal to alter one of the most outrageous laws ever to have been put in place. She was the true heir of the throne and he refused to hand it to her. But there was more than one way to win a race.
She could always have disposed of Ari and been done with it. However, she knew that her father would only go on to have another son to fill his place. He’d never let her be Queen, he’d told her so himself. And that was not acceptable. He’d live to regret that decision. Or perhaps die. That all depended on how her plan played out.
They unloaded their cart and led their horses to a field with a stream and plenty of grass and carried their belongings into the filthy home. It took days to get it sanitary before they were able to start their work. Long days filled with cleaning and repairing and fetching water from the stream. It was hard work, far harder than Ana had ever had to do in the palace and this only made her anger grow.
But the days were preferable to the nights, when the Alchemist forced himself upon her, thrusting himself between her legs while she dreamed up ways to make him pay. He didn’t know who he was dealing with. But that was the way Ana liked it because it gave her the element of surprise. When she inflicted her revenge, it would be all the sweeter. She was in no hurry. She may not be beautiful, but she was smart and still young. She had the rest of her life in front of her.
Ana’s life quickly became brutally difficult. Although, as the years passed, she adjusted, realizing what strength she had. The Alchemist taught her everything he knew about his mysterious oils. The sachets he made for her to wear around her neck worked initially, but her exposure to other oils cleared her mind and she soon figured out what he was doing. So, she set this right, replacing the elixir in the sachet and letting him think that he was controlling her. She watched his every move and when he was out hunting or fossicking for a particular plant, she made elixirs of her own, experimenting on him upon his return. And in this way, the controller became the controlled.
She cut her hair short for practical purposes and purchased men’s clothing in a nearby town for the same reason. The Alchemist hated it. Which made her like her new look even more. There was power in dressing like a man. And anonymity. Passersby often assumed she was the Alchemist’s brother, never suspecting for a moment they were looking at the Princess of Wintergreen. She adopted male mannerisms, studying the Alchemist and copying his every move, right down to that irritating nose twitch, until it became a habit. She was a tall woman, which helped too. And flat-chested, which was also handy. Little by little, she transformed herself into a man. The man she should have been born to be. The man who would have been made King.
Although, it seemed that she hadn’t taken control soon enough, as she noticed her waist swelling and the rags she used to collect her blood each month lay folded away. The Alchemist had planted the seed of a child inside her, making her a true woman, just as she’d decided to become a man.
She was with child and she hated it. Both the pregnancy and the child inside her. And of course, the man who’d put it there. No doubt it would be a boy who’d grow to consider himself superior to her, just like all the other men in her life. Her anger grew in a way she wasn’t sure what to do with.
She hid in the house whenever anybody came near. It was hard to pretend you were a man with a belly the size of the palace underneath your shirt. Once, she mixed up an elixir that she was certain would terminate the baby, but only ended up causing her to vomit for eight days straight and almost killed her instead.
So, she focused her efforts on the Alchemist she despised, mixing up various elixirs and putting them under his nose at night, until she stumbled upon one that made him wake relaxed and willing to satisfy her every demand. He cleaned, he hunted, he washed her feet and collected wood for the fire.
And once again, while he was gone, she worked on her elixir, tweaking it and perfecting it until the Alchemist was able to be manipulated into exactly the place she wanted him. Subservient, docile, eager to please. And best of all, impotent. Never would he force himself on her again.
The baby came one night in the middle of a wild storm and Ana took that as an omen it would be a boy, which of course it was.
As she held her son in her arms for her first time and looked into his eyes, several things happened all at once. The storm stopped. The baby cried out. And she realized that she loved him. This thought upset her greatly, for love was never part of her plan.
Time continued to roll past and Ana began to worry about what travelers would think of two men in a cabin with a baby. It didn’t seem natural. Not wanting to return to the pain of becoming Ana again, she decided that the Alchemist should become a woman instead. He resisted at first, but with time and the right adjustments to his medication, she was able to convince him. However, the pathetic man was bald and a wig needed to be purchased to go with the dresses she’d brought with her from the palace. His food rations were reduced to give him finer bone structure and weaken his ability to fight back. She named their son Grimm, a name that meant fierce, as Ana was certain that was what he was going to need to be to survive the cruelty of the world he’d been brought into. She taught him to call her Father and his actual father Mother, something that never failed to be a source of amusement for her.
It brought her great joy to see the man she hated so much looking so weak and ridiculous. He made for a passable, albeit rather ugly, woman and Ana kept him at a distance whenever travelers were near.
She wasn’t completely heartless though, rewarding him with the pendant her mother had given her as a child and asking him to wear it. The sight of that reminded her of Ari and the way he’d worn the necklace until he practically had half a tree indented in his chest. Although, in fairness, she’d once been the same. That necklace had been the only symbol in her life that she was equal to Ari in her mother’s eyes. His half of the pendant was no bigger and no more valuable. They were exactly the same, only a mirror image of each other. The good versus the bad, only they both thought that they were the good and the other was the bad. Giving the pendant to the Alchemist was a symbol of her transformation. She was letting Ana go and starting her new life. Continuing to wear it would only have weighed her down.
She experimented with an elixir that brought her male hormones to life and she soon noticed her voice getting deeper and fine hair sprouting on her chin. Abandoning the name Ana for good, she renamed herself as the Alchemist, refusing to take on any actual n
ame, and liking the idea of claiming the title from someone so clearly unworthy of it. And she began to not just live as a he, but she began to think of herself as a he. The transformation was complete.
As Grimm grew older, the new and improved Alchemist realized he had a problem. Grimm looked exactly like his uncle, Ari. Not just a little bit like him, but an exact copy that took the Alchemist’s breath away every time he looked at him. And if he could see it, then no doubt others would be able to as well. It was too big a risk and the Alchemist was forced to keep his son hidden, alongside his pathetic mother.
As Grimm grew old enough to walk, the Alchemist decided it was time to take the next step in his plan. It wasn’t fair for Grimm to grow up as a poor child kept hidden from strangers in a life of poverty. He should be third in line to the throne after the Alchemist himself, living a life of riches in the palace.
So, the Alchemist packed up his small family and traveled as close to the palace as he dared, finding the perfect house just outside Cypress, purchased with some gold he’d taken with him from the palace. Having been told that the village perfumer was looking for an apprentice, he applied immediately, thrilled at how the universe had thrown together the last few details of his plan like that.
He felt bad having to leave Grimm locked inside the house with his strange mother to care for him, however, it was only temporary, and he had no choice. Grimm’s safety was the priority. He converted the home to make a secret room for him in case anybody came to visit. Not that they’d be invited in, of course. But as they were so close to the palace now, the risk was greater than ever. He had to be kept well hidden. One glance at that small boy would tell you that royal blood flowed in his veins.
The Alchemist cursed Ari for trying to ruin his life again. Was there no escape from him? Did he need to take over everything in the Alchemist’s life, including his own son’s face?
It didn’t take the Alchemist long to work his way into exactly the position he needed to be in. After the perfumer’s very unfortunate decline in health, he successfully took over the perfumery and renamed it as the apothecary. And he gained control over the women in the village, using the elixir he’d used on his wife, with some modifications to ensure it worked on women who were born female, of course. It wasn’t his fault that when he added the azalea nectar to the elixir that it had a rather unfortunate effect on the men. He hadn’t meant to kill them. Although it had been a pleasing side effect that had led to yet more ideas and his plan had flourished from there.
With the men and the boys getting what they deserved in life, the Alchemist was able to demonstrate what a real man looked like. His own son, safe in his home, would be all the more powerful when he was done with the rest of his kind. Especially when the “plague” spread to the palace, affecting the two most powerful men of Wintergreen. Soon there would be two new men in a position of power. The Alchemist and his son. After that point, he could allow males to be born into the kingdom again.
Then everything had started to fall apart, just as quickly as it had come together.
He’d been careless and left a bottle of the elixir with the azalea nectar in his jacket pocket. His wife found it, mixed it with some frankincense and inhaled it, putting a swift end to her life. The Alchemist had almost forgotten she was born male and would be vulnerable to the elixir, otherwise, he’d never have forgotten it was in his pocket. Such an ungrateful wench to take away the life he’d so carefully crafted for her.
Although he suffered no personal sadness at his wife’s loss, Grimm had loved her and it was upsetting to see him pine for her. He’d had to peel the boy off his mother’s body when he’d found her dead, and lock him safely in his room, hoping that his exposure to the elixir hadn’t been enough for him to contract the plague himself.
But it had been enough, and very quickly Grimm had fallen gravely ill.
The Alchemist had been devastated that an elixir of his own creation was what had caused his son’s condition and had wished he could call on Doctor Abner from the palace to treat him, knowing that wasn’t possible. Then, as if by some miracle, Jasmine had interrupted him in his workshop while he’d been madly working on a cure, to tell him that Doctor Abner had come to see him, and he’d wondered if somehow he’d known that he needed his help. But when he’d gone to meet him in the gazebo, he’d seen Raphael leaving with a man who was unmistakably his own brother, Ari.
Ari! The source of constant disappointment in his life.
He’d grown up since he’d last seen him, but he’d recognize him anywhere and not just because he looked into a younger version of his face every day in the form of Grimm. The fact that Ari was using the doctor’s name and asking about his wife had alerted him immediately and he’d followed them back to his house to see what they were up to, allowing the boy to climb through the window, just like a foolish mouse walking into a trap, expecting to have a meal of cheese instead of losing his head.
When the boy had refused to talk, he’d had no option but to put him out of his misery. Let him join the mother he pined after so much. And just like his mother, Raphael hadn’t succumbed to the elixir with ease and he’d had to mix the last remains of his frankincense in with it to get any kind of result, almost resorting to suffocating him to put an end to it quickly.
Then Jasmine had tricked him into believing there was a fire at the apothecary, destroying his work on the cure Grimm so desperately needed. He’d been foolish enough to believe her, not surprised to return home to find Raphael missing, leaving him cursing that he hadn’t suffocated him while he’d had the chance. That was his fault for having such a soft heart when it came to children. At least Grimm had remained safely locked in his room, lying in his bed, knocking weakly at the wall.
He’d run immediately to the road to see Ari and Jasmine on the back of a cart with Raphael, heading in the direction of the palace and he’d known it was too late.
Now, desperate to find the cure and needing more frankincense to help Grimm recover, the Alchemist had returned to the palace, using the hole in the wall, to visit his favorite tree from his youth.
He’d seen Jasmine following him, just as he’d always seen Ari follow him as a child, and had followed her in return, once she’d thought he’d disappeared back into the shadows. Looking through the window of the infirmary, he’d watched Jasmine cure Raphael with an elixir she claimed the boy had made himself. Nobody else seemed to know what was in it.
He’d known immediately what he had to do. He had to get hold of the boy again and make him talk. It was just as well he hadn’t suffocated him after all. Grimm was going to die if he didn’t get his hands on that cure, and if that happened then life just wouldn’t be worth living.
He’d returned to Cypress to check on Grimm, taking him to the apothecary where he’d be more comfortable and closer to the workshop.
Returning to the palace, he’d waited for his chance to capture the boy, which turned out to be far easier than he could have hoped. Foolish child walking alone under the trees! He was practically asking for it. But being in the palace garden had made the Alchemist sentimental as he’d remembered growing up there as a girl and he’d accidentally hissed his old name into Raphael’s ear when he’d grabbed hold of him.
Although, as easy as taking Raphael had been, getting him to talk had been far harder and he’d had to apply strong measures to loosen his lips.
Then he’d been warned by one of the women at the apothecary that guards were at his house and he’d gone back to make sure they hadn’t uncovered his wife’s body, only to find Ari there with his father. The Alchemist had almost forgotten how much he hated his father and had been so close to falling into his arms to cry and cry and cry, just as he’d done when he was a girl.
But then he remembered. He remembered the hate and the betrayal and the discrimination. He remembered it all. No more! It was time to bring all of this to a close.
JASMINE
THE NOW
Jasmine stood several paces bac
k from Ari, his father and… his sister. The Alchemist was Princess Ana? This couldn’t be true.
She looked closer, studying the Alchemist’s face, and a memory came back of the first time she’d seen him and had thought he looked odd. He’d handed her a bunch of flowers and her feelings had changed. Was that why her mother had thrown them away? Had she known they were laced with some kind of elixir?
Just like Raphael, her mother had been immune to the Alchemist’s charms. Jasmine believed it was their sixth sense that protected them. Their ability to see the things that can’t be seen, meant that they weren’t as susceptible to the elixirs. Although, clearly the Alchemist had found a way to break through this protection. Large doses of frankincense perhaps?
Another memory rushed through Jasmine’s mind of kissing the Alchemist. She swept this thought away as quickly as it had arrived. There was no point in going over that again. Especially now. Best to pretend that had never happened.
It looked for a moment like the Alchemist was going to embrace the King. Jasmine had never seen such a look of vulnerability on someone’s face. Then he remembered himself and the cool look of detachment from the world slipped back over him. Or… her? No, whoever the Alchemist had once been, he was most definitely a he now.
Jasmine could smell the Alchemist’s perfume from where she stood, although it had no effect on her without the scent mingling with one of his elixirs. He had no power over anybody here. Except perhaps the King, who was still staring at him with his mouth hanging open.
“It all makes sense now,” said Ari, breaking the silence. “I thought that maybe when you ran away, you’d become a better person. But that would require you to have had some goodness in your heart to begin with. It seems I never realized what you were capable of. Just how evil you really are.”
The Kingdoms of Evernow Box Set Page 40
