Edison opened his mouth to reply but this only served to provide him with another large dose of elixir. He’d be the most fertile man in the land by the time he returned.
He sniggered at the thought of Pip providing him with a litter of royal babies. She was already wearing his necklace, given to her as a sign of his affection. She knew it was his most prized possession, having been given to him by his father. It was the only piece of his father he had. Women were suckers for gestures like that and Pip was no different. She was probably crying her eyes out for him right now.
He left the apothecary and its annoyingly smug Alchemist and returned to his horse, who’d moved from the trough to feed on a clump of daisies.
It was good to be back out in the fresh air. The more he breathed, the more that strange feeling of calm left him. His clothes had dried out nicely, he had warm tea in his belly and a bag full of elixirs for the King.
He may have lost his army of Guardians, but he’d succeeded in the King’s quest. And he’d done it all alone. That was even better. The King would be sure to be impressed.
He hoped.
Because if he wasn’t, then Edison was a dead man.
TATE
THE NOW
Tate pushed open the door to the Guardian’s tavern and glanced around. He knew Edison wasn’t here, but even when he was away, his presence seemed to lurk in the shadows.
There were a few Guardians milling around. Each of them stopped and bowed when they saw him.
“Please, no need for that.” Tate held up his hand. “I’m just passing through.”
He went to the back of the tavern and through to the kitchen, finding Ariel bent over a pot, sampling her latest tonic. Tate sniffed the air, certain he could detect grape juice.
“Tate!” Ariel straightened, set down her spoon and went to him, taking hold of each of his hands and holding them gently. “You’re here.”
Ariel always made time for him, but never stopped to bow at him and he was glad for it. She’d turned out to be an unlikely friend to him over the years, almost like a mother-figure, in some ways. It’d been a while since he’d seen her, so had been glad to learn that Edison was away. Nobody seemed to know where he’d gone, or at least been willing to tell him. River said she’d heard he was on a quest for the King, but Tate’s father had denied that. But he’d said it in a way that made Tate certain he was lying. How was he supposed to rule the kingdom one day when his father never told him what was going on?
“Have you been well, Ariel?” He let go of her hands to peer into the pot. Yes, definitely grape juice. There was no mistaking it.
“I’m very well, thank you.” Ariel smiled at him, and he detected a sadness in her eyes, making him wonder if he should press her on this. But this wasn’t unusual for Ariel. There always seemed to be secrets hidden behind her eyes, like she wanted to tell him something, but couldn’t.
“Is this a new recipe?” he asked.
She nodded. “Just experimenting with a liver tonic.”
“What’s in it? I can smell grapes?” She liked it when he talked about her tonics. If she wanted to talk to him about anything else, it would come out in time.
“Yes, grapes, blueberries, beetroot, and some coffee beans. It tastes quite astringent. Try some.”
She handed Tate a spoon and he dipped it in, then sipped on the dark liquid. Ariel was right. It was acidic. But in a surprisingly pleasing way.
“You think the Guardians’ livers are failing them?” He attempted to dip his spoon back in, only to have Ariel slap away his hand. She was very strict about not putting a spoon from your mouth into a communal pot. He liked that she applied the same rules to him as anyone else, as one of the rare people who treated him like a person instead of a prince.
“It seems so.” She sighed deeply. “Yellow skin, nausea, fever, weight loss. It all points to the liver. But I don’t understand. It can’t be their tonics. They’ve been drinking them for generations. Why would it suddenly be poisoning them now?”
“It won’t be your tonics.” Tate’s shoulders sank to see the beginnings of tears in Ariel’s eyes. She took her work so seriously. It was her life. He hated to think of a time when Edison would take over from her. Because likely by then it would be when Tate was King, which would mean he’d no longer be able to avoid his former friend.
“Do you know where Edison is?” asked Ariel, taking a basket of spinach from a high shelf and sorting through it, removing any leaves that had wilted.
Tate shook his head. “It seems to be a mystery. Is he giving you trouble?”
“He always gives me trouble.” Any pretense of a smile fell from her face. "You know that.”
“But worse than normal?”
She looked into his eyes, then seeming to decide to trust him, she nodded. “He says when he returns that he’ll be running my kitchen. I’m to take his orders.”
Tate considered this. A mother’s instinct was rarely wrong. Particularly a mother who was as astute as Ariel. And what she said made some kind of sense. If Edison was on a secret quest for the King, it was very possible if he succeeded that he could be put in charge of the kitchen as his reward.
“I didn’t think Edison was all that keen to take over as herbalist,” said Tate. “He always said as a boy that he had other ideas for his future.”
Ariel nodded. “That’s right. Which is why I’m certain he’s up to something.”
“I’ll talk to my father.” Tate set down the spoon he was still holding. “See if I can get him to tell me anything. I’ve heard a rumor Edison’s on a quest for him, but my father denied it.”
“He’s been sneaking out every morning.” Ariel pushed her dark hair out of her eyes. “Going into the palace, not long after you go for your morning walk.”
“Oh.” A sick feeling gripped Tate around the middle. Was Edison the shadow he’d seen lurking in Pip’s room? He cursed himself for doubting what he’d seen with his own eyes.
“You suspect what he’s up to?” Ariel’s eyebrows darted up as she placed a hand on Tate’s arm.
“Pip’s been acting very strangely lately. You know how much she doted on Edison as a child.”
“Oh.” It was Ariel’s turn to be surprised now. “Tate, do you think…”
“I don’t know.” It was true. He didn’t know what to think. Or more to the point what to say. He was going to need some time to think this through before he spoke to anyone about this. Including Ariel. If Edison was wooing his sister, it spelled nothing but trouble. Maybe River had found out something when she’d taken Pip her breakfast this morning. He’d talk to her about it later.
“Do you think he has plans to marry Pip?” asked Ariel. “To become a Prince rather than the herbalist.”
“I hope not.” Tate swallowed hard, but the sick feeling in his stomach remained.
“Tate, listen to me.” Ariel lowered her voice. “I want you to be very careful. My son… he’s dangerous. And ambitious. You know that. Having his sights set on Pip won’t be enough. He won’t be happy to be the husband to a Princess. But the husband to the Queen… well.”
Tate took a step back as he tried to absorb what she was saying. The only way Pip could ever be Queen was if he died before he produced an heir. He knew Edison was dangerous, that wasn’t news, but was he that dangerous?
He should never have pushed Edison so far away when they’d been children. Because sometimes your enemies could do you far more harm when they were far away than when they were within arm’s reach.
“I have to go.” He stooped to kiss Ariel quickly on her cheek. He needed to talk to his father. And he needed to do it now.
“I mean it, Tate,” she called after him. “Be careful!”
Tate jogged back to the palace, hoping to catch his father before he retired from the throne room to his bedchamber. This couldn’t wait until morning. If Edison really had been visiting Pip then both their lives may be in danger.
“Father!” He approached the throne
just as the King stood up, a pile of crumbs scattering to the floor around his feet.
“I’m tired, Tate. I’ve been dealing with the problems of the people since sun-up. You’ll understand just how draining this is one day. Can it wait until morning? I’d like to retire to my bedchamber now and eat my dessert.”
Tate shook his head. “I need to talk to you now.”
The King sat down again heavily and sighed. “What is it?”
“It’s Pip.” Tate slowed his breathing, trying to choose his words carefully.
“Phillipa?” A look of alarm crossed the King’s face. He may ridicule his daughter, but deep down somewhere in his heart, he loved her. Perhaps he loved who she once was. Or was it who he still hoped one day she’d be?
“She’s okay,” Tate added. “For now. It’s just that… I’ve been told someone has been visiting her in her bedchamber. Every day, for a while now.”
“Who?” the King sat forward, strumming the arm of his throne.
“Edison.” Tate swallowed as he waited for his father’s reaction.
His father stopped his strumming and gripped the timber arm of the throne so tightly his knuckles turned white. A contrast to the purple flush staining his face.
“You must tell me where he is,” said Tate. “For Pip’s sake, as well as your own.”
“I sent him on a quest,” he said, almost as if he’d never denied this. “With a small army of Guardians for protection.”
“What kind of quest?” Edison wasn’t strong and he wasn’t clever. What quest could he possibly complete for the King?
“I needed him to fetch me something.” His father waved his hand, as he did when he didn’t wish to elaborate.
“What was it?” asked Tate, not deterred by a waving hand.
“They traveled by carts pulled by two of our strongest mules,” he continued, without answering Tate’s question. “One of the mules returned to the palace this morning, having chewed through its reins. It was quite badly injured, I believe.”
“What do you think happened?” Tate decided to check on the mule later to see if there was anything he could do for it.
“I think Edison failed. That’s what I think happened. And his failure cost me some of my best Guardians. You know how many generations it’s taken to breed them so strong. They’re not toys that can be dispensed of. They’re a crucial part of the safety of our kingdom. A failure like Edison isn’t worthy of my daughter. We must put a stop to whatever’s happening between them immediately. That’s if he’s still alive.”
The doors to the throne room burst open, and right on cue, Edison came stumbling in, followed by two Guardians.
“Edison?” Tate could barely recognize him. Normally so well-groomed, Edison was covered in mud and looked pale and exhausted.
Edison limped toward them and collapsed to his knees beside Tate, keeping his attention firmly on the King. The Guardians stood by, keeping a close eye on him, ready to jump in if required.
“Forgive me, my Lord.” Edison blinked up at the throne. “The quest didn’t go as planned, but I’ve succeeded. You’ll be pleased with me.”
“Pleased?” the King bellowed. “I’m not pleased! You failed me. Where are my Guardians?”
“They’re… well… I’m afraid there was a terrible accident. They were crushed by falling rocks. It was—”
“Silence!” boomed the King.
Edison hung his head and stilled his words.
“Were there any survivors, apart from the mule that returned this morning?” asked Tate, hoping at least some of the Guardians had made it. River was going to be devastated by this, just as she was starting to accept what had happened to her sister.
“No,” said Edison. “Only one mule that I set free when it became trapped.”
“I saw the reins myself.” The King narrowed his eyes. “They’d been chewed through, not cut with a blade. Are you telling me you bit them with your own teeth?”
“N-n-no! Of course not,” said Edison. “The mule chewed through as I was trying to reach it. I dragged away some boulders so it could get out.”
The King shook his head, not seeming to believe this any more than Tate did.
“And the Guardians?” asked Tate. “Did you drag away boulders so they could escape?”
“They were too…heavy.” Edison’s eyes darted around the room. “No ordinary man can shift a boulder. I’d need a Guardian for that.”
“But you just said you moved some boulders away from the mule.” Tate crossed his arms and sighed. This man was so foolish, he hadn’t even taken the time to think up a story that made sense.
“They were smaller boulders.” Edison’s voice dropped to a whisper, as he realized he was tangling himself in his lies.
“I’ve heard enough!” The King stood from his throne and reached for his sword, knocking a bowl off his table and scattering breadsticks across the room. “You were responsible for those Guardians and I’ll crush you, just like you crushed them!”
The Guardians stepped forward and took Edison by each arm, holding him captive at the King’s mercy, although Tate seriously doubted his father was fit enough to successfully swing a sword.
There was a gasp behind them and he turned to see River at the door, her mouth agape to see the King standing over Edison, cowering on the floor with his hands over his head.
Just as Tate was about to motion at River to leave, she turned and ran. He’d need to find her later. He couldn’t go after her now. There was too much at stake.
“Did I frighten your wife?” the King asked, turning his attention to Tate.
“She’s fine,” said Tate, hoping this was the case. “She’s a Guardian. She’s seen worse than this before.”
“And have you?” asked his father. “You’ve been protected all your life. One day you’ll be King and you’ll need to be stronger than this. Look at you, shaking like a little girl.”
“I’m not shaking.” Tate looked at his hands to see they were indeed trembling.
Edison had been like a brother to him growing up. He may not trust him now, but he didn’t wish death upon him. Ariel would be devastated. She may not trust her son either, but still, he was her child.
“What would you do with this failure before us?” his father asked, his attention still firmly planted on him.
“I’d put him on trial,” said Tate, wondering how this had become more about him than it had Edison.
“Yes!” Edison struggled against the Guardians, his face lit with hope. “A trial! I can explain everything.”
“He’s had his trial,” said the King. “The injured mule was his trial. This man has failed me. And failure’s not an option. Not now and not ever.”
The King stepped down from his platform and stood beside Tate, holding out his sword.
“Show me what kind of King you’ll be, my son. I want to see for myself. Deal with this failure and deal with him now.”
As Tate held out his hand to take the sword, every cell in his body wanted to push it away. Killing Edison would solve so many problems. He couldn’t possibly marry Pip and murder his way to the throne if he were dead.
But… this wasn’t how he dealt with things. Violence wasn’t the answer. It was never the answer. Proving he could kill a man wouldn’t make him a better King. It would make him a far worse King. Because it would make him like his father. A man who Tate had reluctantly come to accept was perhaps the worst kind of King of all.
“Do it,” his father said.
“Forgive me,” Tate muttered, as he swung the sword over his head.
PIP
THE NOW
Pip stood with her eye pressed up against the spy hole in her door, watching people in the palace come and go. Servants, cooks, and Guardians walked up and down the passageway with such purpose, all just as busy as Pip was bored. It was getting late in the evening and there wasn’t much to see from her window in the fading light.
She’d seen River walk past a few moments ago.
She was the only one who didn’t walk with purpose. She walked as if she was in a magical land, taking in her surroundings. She’d soon get used to the palace. It was early days.
Pip blinked to see River coming back down the hallway, only this time she was in a hurry and she had her hand cupping her mouth as if something dreadful had just happened. Was Tate okay? Whatever River had just witnessed, it couldn’t have been good.
“River!” Pip opened her door and called out to River, who was quickly disappearing down the passageway.
“River!” she called again, feeling sweat break out on her forehead. It’d been a long time since she’d poked her head out of her doorway like this.
River slowed, stopped, then turned around, as if she’d have preferred to ignore Pip’s calls.
“Come here. Please?” Pip couldn’t go to River, but she had to know what happened. It would be impossible to wait until Tate came in the morning to find out. That was assuming he was all right to be able to tell her.
River dropped her hand from her mouth and came to Pip, standing at her doorway, not seeming to want to come in this time.
“What happened?” asked Pip. “Is Tate okay?”
River looked confused, then nodded her head. “Tate’s okay.”
“Then who is it?” Pip let out a long breath. “Someone must be hurt. Is it another one of your Guardians?”
“It’s… never mind.” River shook her head and looked to the floor, her feet shuffling as if they wanted to run away. “It’s nothing.”
“River! Tell me what’s happened.” Pip reached for River, but she backed away, out of her grasp. “I may not be able to leave my room, but I’m no fool. Something happened just now. What’s going on?”
“It’s…”
“It’s who? It’s what?” A pain shot through Pip’s jaw. “Talk to me, River!”
“It’s Edison.” River spat out the words, like she’d just swallowed poison.
“What about Edison?” Pip realized too late that she’d stepped out of her bedchamber and was now standing in the passageway for the first time in a shameful number of years. “What’s happened to him? Is he back?”
The Kingdoms of Evernow Box Set Page 77
