“It’s River,” she called out when there was no answer. “I have your breakfast.”
“Where’s Tate?” Pip opened the door a crack and her eyes narrowed.
“He asked me to bring this to you today.”
“Why?” She opened the door wide now and River saw a very different Princess to the one she’d met only days earlier. Her locks of blonde hair were a mess and she had dark circles under her eyes.
“He had other business to attend to and didn’t want you to go hungry.” This wasn’t strictly a lie, albeit not entirely true. “May I come in, please?”
Pip stepped aside to let her pass.
She placed down the tray and stood, wringing her hands, waiting for Pip to invite her to take a seat. Surely, she didn’t expect her to leave straight away?
“Are you feeling well?” asked River, despite Pip’s disheveled appearance indicating that she wasn’t at all well.
“Not especially.” Pip sat on her bed, picked up her doll, then set it back down again as if remembering herself.
“May I sit down?” River put her hand on the back of a chair.
Pip pursed her lips together, then nodded slowly, while River did her best to reserve her judgment of this girl her husband adored.
“What’s it like?” asked Pip.
“I’m not sure what you mean.” River sat down and smoothed out the fabric of her skirt, still unable to get used to the softness compared to her Guardians’ tunic.
“What’s it like being married to my brother?” asked Pip. “Being… I don’t know… being a real person. You know, instead of one of those freaks.”
Pip crossed her arms and waited for River’s response, unaware of how offensive she’d just been.
“Guardians are real people.” River tried to keep the venom out of her voice, doubting she’d succeeded. “Who told you otherwise?”
Pip bit down on her bottom lip. “Nobody.”
Who had this girl been talking to? Someone must’ve put these ideas in her head. River knew Tate didn’t think like this and he was the only friend Pip had. Unless it was the King himself? But that didn’t make sense either. Nobody would choose a freak to marry their son and provide them with an heir.
“Guardians are very much real people, Pip.” River sat forward in her chair. “Perhaps you’d let me introduce you to my family one day? You’d like them and I’m sure they’d like you.”
River bit down on her own lip now, conscious of her lie. Her parents wouldn’t like Pip one little bit if she spoke like that. But maybe they could help convince her that they were ordinary people with the same hopes and dreams as anybody else. Although, there was something about the way Pip spoke that make River feel like she was testing out these ideas rather than believing them herself.
“I can’t meet them.” Pip crossed her arms. “You know I don’t leave my bedchamber.”
River drew in a breath, reminding herself that she hadn’t come here for a fight. She’d come here for the exact opposite reason. Tate had wanted them to be friends, although that was seeming less and less likely the more words that came out of Pip’s mouth.
“I meant that perhaps I could bring my family here one day to meet you,” she explained, speaking more slowly than usual to reinforce her point.
Pip shook her head. “I don’t see visitors.”
“You saw me.”
“I don’t get a choice in that. Not at the moment anyway.”
She was talking in riddles now.
“At the moment?” asked River, hoping she might start making more sense.
“One day things will be different. Ed—” Pip stopped talking as if she’d suddenly become mute.
“Ed?” River prompted, hoping the rest of that word didn’t result in the name of a man she’d come to despise.
“I didn’t say Ed.” Pip cast down her eyes, clearly hiding something.
River pulled her lips into a smile, deciding to bide her time before she pressed her on this. “I’d like to be your friend, Pip. Your sister, too, if you’d let me. I want you to know you can trust me.”
“Do you love Tate?” asked Pip.
Now it was River’s turn to dodge a question. How could she explain her feelings to Pip when she didn’t even understand them herself?
“Tate is the kindest man I’ve ever met,” she said.
“Everybody knows that.” Pip waved her hands in front of her as if to shoo away River’s words, a gesture River had seen the King use. “But do you love him?”
“Yes.” River was unsure if this was true, but aware it was the answer Pip was seeking. Could love bloom so quickly? She admired Tate and couldn’t help but notice how handsome he was, especially when his hair slipped free and fell around his face. But was that love? It was the beginnings of it, certainly.
“He loves you,” said Pip. “I can tell by the way he looks at you.”
“Would you like to get married one day?” asked River, trying to steer the conversation in a safer direction. Tate wasn’t here to speak for himself and it seemed unfair to talk about him like this.
Pip nodded and a huge smile spread across her face. “Definitely.”
River sat forward, hoping Edison didn’t have anything to do with the certainty of Pip’s answer. “Do you have anyone in mind?”
“No,” said Pip, a little too quickly.
“Are you sure about that?” River laughed in a failed attempt to keep the conversation lighthearted.
“I’m hungry now,” said Pip. “Would you mind?”
“Oh.” River stood, realizing she was being asked to leave. “Of course.”
As Pip hauled herself off the bed, the top button from her dress fell open revealing something around her neck. River tried to shift her eyes away but couldn’t.
Pip was wearing Edison’s distinctive hemp cord. It had to be his. Nobody else had one like that with three different strands of colored hemp woven together.
River pulled back her shoulders and reminded herself that she was a Guardian. Handling a difficult conversation was nothing compared to what she’d been trained to do.
“Pip, when you said Ed earlier you were about to say Edison, weren’t you?” She looked Pip directly in the eye, daring her to lie.
Pip cowered, like the real person she was and shook her head.
“He was the shadow Tate insists he saw in here,” said River. “Why else would you be wearing his necklace?”
Pip’s hands flew to her throat and she pulled her dress together to cover the cord.
“He’s the man you hope to marry, isn’t he?” pressed River. “And I’m going to bet he’s the one planting awful ideas inside your head. Ideas that sound very much like things Edison would say.”
“Please don’t tell Tate!” Pip fell to the floor and clutched at River’s dress. “Please! He might tell Father, who’ll make me marry a Guardian like you. And I won’t. I just won’t!”
“Why? Because you don’t love a Guardian? Or because we’re freaks?”
“I’m sorry, River! I am! I don’t think you’re a freak. The truth is, I don’t know what to think anymore. All I know is that I love Edison. I know he doesn’t always say the right thing, but he means well. He’s a good man and he’s been helping me get better.”
“I’m not going to say anything.” River knew she wouldn’t be able to keep this promise. She wanted to win Pip over, but her loyalty was to her husband. He needed to know the truth so he could protect his sister.
Because River wasn’t sure exactly what Edison was up to, but she knew one thing for sure. And that was that he was up to no good.
EDISON
THE NOW
Edison tied up his horse at the drinking trough and ran his fingers through his damp hair.
He’d traveled through the night, the journey to the apothecary taking far longer than it was supposed to. He had no idea where he was going in the dark and was freezing cold in his wet clothes. He’d clung to his horse, shivering, as he led it in circ
les, desperately trying to draw some warmth from the animal’s back.
If those stupid Guardians hadn’t raced so fast toward the mountain, it wouldn’t have rained those rocks down on them and left him alone and stranded. He’d be waking up on the other side of the river after a good night’s rest.
When the sun had come out at long last, he’d climbed off his horse and tilted his face to the sky, willing the rays to dry his clothes and warm his bones. But all it’d done was turn his clothes from wet to dank and his bones from freezing to just plain cold.
Eventually, he’d had to ask a passerby for directions to the apothecary, just about weeping for joy when he’d finally arrived.
The apothecary was a large building with a smaller store tacked onto the end. The building wasn’t anything special, but he had to admit the garden around it was something else. Edison hadn’t realized gardens like this existed. Paths were lined with lavender and rosemary, leading through manicured gardens of roses, and there was a gazebo in the distance with trails of jasmine crawling all over it like a flowering spider’s web.
In The Bay of Laurel, plants were grown in rows to optimize their food production, not to enhance their beauty. He’d never really thought about a garden being beautiful before, but there was no denying that’s what this was. His mother would love it. Pip probably would, too, if she could transport herself from her bed to the gazebo. Women liked pretty things like flowers, even if they were almost as useless as the women themselves.
He took a step toward the apothecary, his nose wrinkling at the overpowering strength of the fragrances pouring out. He could smell peppermint and cinnamon and possibly lemon. It wasn’t all that different to his mother’s kitchen, although these foods were being prepared to be consumed with the nose instead of the mouth
Foolish, really. What use could sniffing an oil do? It needed to be taken into the body directly for the goodness to be properly drawn from it. This kingdom should come to The Bay of Laurel to steal their tonics, not the other way around. The King was a fool to have sent him on this quest.
But fool or not, the King was the one in power and if Edison wished to take his place, he had to play his game.
He pushed open the door to the apothecary, still unsure exactly what his plan was. Would the King even know how he acquired the oils? Just as long as he got them, that was all that mattered. But the coins he’d brought with him had been buried underneath a mountain of rock along with the Guardians. Apart from the clothes on his back, all he had to offer was a tired horse and he needed that to get back home.
A wave of aromas assaulted his nostrils as he stepped inside. It would be enough to send him turning around and walking away, if it weren’t for the warmth of the room. He saw walls and shelves lined with tiny bottles of oils, but his eyes skipped straight past these to a fire burning in a hearth at the opposite end of the room. He went immediately to it and rubbed his hands together, not caring what smells he had to put up with, just as long as he got to feel the heat of the fire.
A woman who was busy restocking the shelves, halted the tune she was humming and looked up at him and smiled.
“Hello,” she said.
Edison found himself smiling back, then reminding himself he was here to stamp his authority, he switched to a frown.
“You look a little cold,” the woman said. “Would you like a hot cup of tea?”
“Bring me your Alchemist,” he said, puffing out his chest, while he continued to warm his hands. “And a cup of tea.”
The woman went to a counter, poured some steaming liquid into a mug and handed it to him.
He gulped it down, only stopping to wonder what was in it after he’d drained the last drop. Surely it hadn’t been poisoned? She didn’t know that he was her enemy yet.
“I’m afraid our Alchemist is very busy,” said the woman, continuing to smile at him despite his hostility.
“And I’m afraid I don’t care.” Edison thrust out the empty mug and increased the intensity of his stare.
“Let me see what I can do.” She took the mug and scuttled through a back door, shaking her head as she went.
Edison forced himself away from the fire and paced the shelves, wishing the bottles were labeled so he could take what he needed and leave. Perhaps he should do just that? Pick up any old thing. How would the King possibly know the difference? He stuffed a few bottles in his pocket just in case.
The back door opened again and a young man came through, frowning at him. His features were even fairer than Edison’s or any of the Guardians. His hair was practically white, his skin translucent, and his eyes more like the sky than the depths of the sea. He looked only perhaps sixteen years at best. Certainly no older than Pip.
“I’m the Alchemist,” the man said. “You asked to see me?”
“Is this a joke?” asked Edison. “You’re little more than a boy.”
“I’m as old as I need to be.” The Alchemist raised his eyebrows, not seeming to feel the need to defend himself.
“I’ve been sent by the King,” said Edison, pulling back his shoulders. This Alchemist was younger than him, which meant there was no way he could be wiser. Edison could outsmart him.
“King Ari sent you?” asked the Alchemist.
“No. The real King.” He rolled his eyes. “The King of The Bay of Laurel. I’ve traveled far to see you.”
“The real King, hey?” The Alchemist laughed to himself in a way that was most unsettling. “My sister will find that amusing when she next comes to visit.”
“Your sister?” asked Edison, wondering what a stupid girl could have to do with this.
“She’s married to King Ari,” the Alchemist said. “They’ve reached out to your real King on several occasions, but he’s clearly a busy man.”
The Alchemist’s sister was the Queen of Wintergreen? Why hadn’t the King mentioned this to him? Surely this detail was important.
Edison scratched his head as he tried to figure out if this was a good or bad development. The Alchemist was more powerful than he’d anticipated, which meant he could either crush him harder or help him fly higher.
“You’ve come here alone?” the Alchemist asked, leaning to look out the window.
“I have an army of guards following behind me,” said Edison, moving to block the Alchemist’s view of the window “They should be arriving any moment now. The strongest army the world has ever seen and they’re under my command.”
“They won’t come too close to us here.” The Alchemist didn’t seem to be the slightest bit intimidated.
“How can you be so certain?” Edison returned to the fire to feel some warmth on his back.
“Our friend and neighbor, Forte Cadence, has whispered for our protection,” said the Alchemist. “Any army who tries to get close will fail. They’d protect you too if you joined the alliance.”
“What does whispered for mean?” Edison wondered if what the Alchemist had just said could possibly be true. Had the Guardians been stopped by a crumbling mountain, or were there greater forces at work here? Surely it was just a coincidence. Nobody could whisper for a mountain to fall.
“You ask a lot of questions,” said the Alchemist. “But you’re not giving me many answers.”
“I need your fertility elixir.” Edison stepped forward and sneered. “Every bottle of it that you have. Quickly now.”
The Alchemist threw back his head and laughed. “Is everyone in your kingdom like you?”
“What? Dangerous?” Edison gripped the Alchemist by the front of his shirt.
“No.” The Alchemist turned a purple shade, but didn’t drop his calm exterior. “Rude.”
Edison tightened his grip on the young man. He could kill him if he wanted to. But would that satisfy the King? Probably not. Best to frighten him without taking his life.
“I can’t get the elixir for you… if you don’t let go of me,” puffed the Alchemist.
“That’s better.” Edison let go, pleased to have some complia
nce at last.
The Alchemist brushed himself down and turned to a shelf to pick up a bottle, unscrewing the lid and spilling the contents over his counter.
“Oops!” he said. “Sorry, I’m a bit shaken.”
An aroma filled the air, swirling in the room. Edison breathed in the floral scent. It figured that a fertility elixir would be made from flowers. Delicate and pathetic like the women who needed to use them. As he breathed it in again, he felt his pulse rate lower and an unexpected wave of calm washed over him.
The Alchemist turned and took a dozen more bottles from the shelf, placing them in a small hessian bag. Then he retrieved a dozen more and tied up the bag with a piece of string, watching Edison carefully as he slid them over to him.
“Thank you,” said Edison, then remembering himself, he added a sneer.
“Happy to help.” An amused expression returned to the Alchemist’s smug face. “Whatever the real King needs, don’t hesitate to ask.”
“Tha—” Edison caught himself in time and breathed in a sigh of floral relief. “Good. He will call on you again and we expect you to comply.”
“Oh, and in case you wondered, they’re for indigestion,” said the Alchemist.
“What are?” Edison took a step to the door, not liking the unfamiliar feeling taking hold of him in here.
“The bottles in your pocket.” said the Alchemist. “A perfect choice for a kingdom that powers itself on food.”
Edison felt a flush rise to his cheeks. How had this man known about that? He’d put the bottles in his pocket well before he’d come into the room.
“This won’t be the last time I see you,” said Edison. “Work on your attitude for next time.”
“Oh, I’m certain this will be the very last time we meet,” the Alchemist replied. “Safe travels now.”
The Kingdoms of Evernow Box Set Page 76
