The Kingdoms of Evernow Box Set

by Heidi Catherine

  “Edison, I need to go.”

  Sweat beaded on her forehead and her stomach pulled into a tight knot. She may only have minutes left. Nausea raced up her throat and a bead of sweat ran down the side of her face. Perhaps if she threw up at the table right now, she could be saved?

  She looked at her father, who was motioning for a servant to bring him another serve of soup. Would he care? Would he try to save her?

  “Why?” she asked.

  “Why, what, my love?” He raised his eyebrows at her and smirked.

  “Why would you poison me?”

  Edison tipped back his head and let out a loud roar of laughter.

  “It’s not funny.” Her hand clasped over her mouth and her stomach began to heave.

  “Oh, but it is. Because, you see, I didn’t poison you, you foolish girl. I just wanted to see the panicked look on your face.” His laughter came out as more of a shriek now. “You really thought you were dead, didn’t you”?

  Pip’s hand fell to her lap. “So, I’m not going to die?”

  “Of course not! You haven’t given me my heir yet.” He patted his stomach as his laughter died down, shaking his head at her apparent stupidity.

  And she never would give him an heir if she had any power over that decision.

  A noise behind her stole her attention and she spun around to see what the commotion was about, shocked to see her father was spluttering as he tipped back a goblet of wine, trying to dislodge something in his throat.

  A crowd of people huddled around the table trying to offer assistance and advice as their King’s face turned red and he spluttered some more.

  “I’m okay!” He held up the palm of his hand and shooed everyone back.

  But it was clear to Pip that he was very much not okay.

  His spluttering worsened and he rose from his chair, doubling over as he clutched his middle, then fell to the ground, his large belly rising and falling rapidly as he took what were sure to be his last breaths.

  People crowded around him, blocking Pip’s view of him as they screamed and wept.

  Pip turned to Edison, certain he’d had something to do with this, only to find him smiling as he watched on.

  “You think this is funny?” Pip wasn’t sure if her heart could take any more of this. It felt like it’d beaten more times in this one day than it had in the past ten years.

  Edison leaned forward to whisper in her ear. “I think it’s hilarious.”

  She pulled back from him, realizing this man was even more evil than she’d thought. “You did this to him. I know you did.”

  “It was time he cleared the path for the next generation, my love,” whispered Edison.

  “Tate is his heir, not me. You’ve gained nothing from this!”

  “Funny you mention Tate right now.” He placed a hand on her back and she cringed. “I wonder if he’s enjoying the soup I had sent down to him.”

  “What did you just say?” This couldn’t be happening. Not Tate, too! “What have you done to my brother?”

  Edison smiled once more, even more broadly than he had all day.

  “Let’s just say that Tate’s presently enjoying a little bit of wedding soup in his cell right now. A special bowl of it, made up just for him.”

  Pip stepped back from the table, almost tripping on the long hem of her dress.

  Edison had poisoned her father and now Tate. She had to get to him before it was too late.

  But just as she went to turn around, Edison’s face turned purple and he started to cough.

  He stood, making a hacking noise as he gasped for air. Clutching at his throat now as he tried to breathe, Pip was reminded of her earlier thought that he didn’t deserve the air in his lungs. Had she somehow caused this to happen?

  “Do something!” someone called from the crowd that was gathering. “It’s happening to our new Prince, too.”

  A man grabbed Edison and thumped him on the back, but Pip already knew that wouldn’t work. Edison was going to die, just like her father was sure to. He’d poisoned the King and somehow ended up poisoning himself.

  People were bending over and vomiting now, trying to expel any food they’d eaten as they realized the food had been tampered with. Women were screaming and men were shouting and pumping their fists in the air like that was going to solve anything.

  “The King is dead!” someone cried over the noise.

  Pip’s head spun and she bent over trying to get enough air, but it only seemed to want to come to her in short gasps.

  Glancing up, she saw Edison fall to his knees, then collapse on the ground and roll to his back in the same way her father had only moments before.

  Ariel crouched down beside her son, the howl escaping from her lips sounding like a wild animal. As much as Pip had grown to despise Edison, the sight of a mother so wrapped up in grief, pierced Pip’s heart. Ariel was a good person. She didn’t deserve to suffer the loss of her only child.

  The hacking noise silenced and very slowly all color drained from Edison’s face.

  Pip went to him and squatted beside Ariel, who locked eyes on her, seeming to want to tell her a hundred things, yet saying nothing.

  Then Ariel stood and raked her hands through her hair, looking around the crowd as if she didn’t know where she was.

  “Edison.” Pip gently shook her new husband.

  “You…did…this.” His voice was shaky and she had to lean forward to make out the words. “You…did…this.”

  “I didn’t,” she said, not sure why it mattered to her what he thought when soon he was not going to be capable of thinking anything.

  “Your fault,” he said, his lungs rattling now as he drew in what was sure to be his final breath. “You… did this.”

  Pip glanced up at Ariel, and deciding she was out of earshot, she leaned in, her lips hovering at Edison’s ear.

  “I didn’t do it,” she hissed. “But I wish I did.”

  She pulled back to see Edison’s eyes open wide as his lip curled. It seemed he hated her, almost as much as she hated him. Then, the life drained from his eyes like the last drops of water in an overturned bucket and his disgust turned to… nothingness.

  He was gone from this world, taking his evil plans with him. At last, his lungs held no air. The man who’d tricked her and betrayed her and killed her father, was dead.

  Unsure who to thank, Pip looked to the sky, overwhelmed with a sense of pure gratitude.

  She was free. Free of her bedchamber. Free of her guilt in the part she’d played in killing her mother. Free of her father and his relentless judgment. And now she was free of the man who’d said he loved her when the only person he’d ever loved was himself.

  “He’s gone,” she said to Ariel, tugging at her skirt.

  Ariel crouched down and pressed her fingertips to Edison’s neck, checking for a pulse.

  “He killed my father,” said Pip, still unable to see her father’s body with all the people gathered around.

  “He did some horrible things.” Ariel removed her hand from his face.

  “And possibly my brother,” said Pip, remembering what else Edison had told her before he’d died.

  Ariel reached for Pip and shook her head. “No, Tate is safe.”

  Pip stood, not sure how Ariel could possibly know such a thing. She hadn’t heard what Edison had said. He’d specifically told her that he’d poisoned Tate’s soup. His only hope was that he hadn’t eaten it yet.

  Leaving Ariel, she hoisted her dress and ran in the direction of the dungeons. Her brother needed her. The last time she’d seen him, she’d looked at him with such anger. He couldn’t die thinking that she hated him! He couldn’t die at all. He’d only been trying to protect her. And he’d been right in everything he’d said.

  Please, let her get to him in time.

  TATE

  THE NOW

  Tate sat on the stone floor of his cell and listened to his stomach groan. Food did that to him now. Like his body no lo
nger knew what to do with it. Maybe he should just throw it up, like he knew Pip did. He’d never seen a sign of her having vomited before, but there was no other reasonable explanation. She couldn’t possibly have eaten all the food he’d brought her over the years and still be as thin as she was. Unless she hadn’t eaten any of it at all. Was that why she always waited until he left the room?

  He could feel himself losing weight now and resisted the urge to bring up the breakfast a Guardian had brought him earlier in the day. He needed all the sustenance he could get and today’s soup had been an unexpected treat. It was far tastier than anything else he’d been brought down here. Perhaps River had something to do with it.

  “Tate!”

  He scrambled to his feet at the sound of his sister’s voice.

  “Tate!”

  He went to the bars of his cell and pressed his face against them, trying to peer down the passageway.

  “Over here, Pip!” He waved his hand through the bars.

  “The soup!” she said, running toward him, wearing what was unmistakably their mother’s wedding dress, even in this dim light.

  “What about it?” They had more important things to talk about than his soup. “Did you send it? I thought it was River.”

  Pip was panting now, and holding her up dress, revealing her boney ankles.

  “No,” she said. “Did you eat it? Hurry, Tate. Talk to me.”

  “Did you just get married?” he asked, unable to get past what she was wearing. “Is that Mother’s dress?”

  She waved her hands at him. “The soup, Tate. Did you eat it?”

  “Of course I did,” he said. “I was starving.”

  “Vomit!” She was screaming at him, her eyes wide and filled with fear. “Quickly! Throw it up. Now!”

  “Why?” He stepped back from the bars, feeling a little uncertain about what was going on.

  “Poison. It’s poisoned. I’ll explain later. Just vomit it. Now! Hurry.”

  So, that was why he’d been provided such a delicious meal. Was it also why his stomach felt rock hard and kept groaning?

  He put his fingers in the back of his throat and tried to heave, but nothing happened, except a shakiness that spread to his limbs. He couldn’t die! Not now. He was too young with too many things left that he wanted to do. And he couldn’t leave River. What would become of her if he wasn’t there to protect her?

  He tried to heave again but it was as if his body was fighting him to keep hold of the only sustenance he’d provided it with in recent time.

  “Do it, Tate!” cried Pip.

  Feeling his pulse rate increase as his panic took hold, he removed his fingers from his mouth and went back to the bars of his cell. “It’s too late, Pip. It’s already gone down.”

  Pip reached through the bars trying to take hold of him and he stepped closer, letting her run her fingers down his face as he tried to accept what was happening with some kind of grace.

  “My brother,” she said. “You were always the best brother. I’m so sorry that I didn’t listen to you. You were right about Edison. He told me he poisoned your soup. He was a very evil man.”

  “Was?” asked Tate, wondering if he’d heard correctly.

  “Edison’s dead,” said Pip. “And so is father. And I’m pretty sure that soon you will be, too.”

  “Pip. Slow down. You’re making absolutely no sense. What’s going on out there?”

  He knew life had been going on while he was trapped down here, but this was out of control. What she was saying couldn’t possibly be true. She must be confused.

  He watched his sister take in a deep breath.

  “Try to vomit again,” she said. “Please. Father and Edison died so quickly and so horribly after eating their soup. I can’t bear for that to happen to you.”

  “Hold on. Father is really dead?” He stepped away from the bars and sat down on a wooden bench as he tried to process this. His father had been indestructible. He couldn’t possibly be dead.

  “He’s dead, Tate. I saw him with my own eyes. He ate the soup, choked and spluttered and dropped to the ground. Dead. Then Edison followed. The same thing, only before he died, he told me he’d poisoned your soup and had it sent down here.”

  “How soon after eating it did they die?” Tate shook his head, still unable to make sense of what was going on here.

  “Straight away. That’s why you have to hurry! You don’t have much time!”

  “But Pip, I ate the soup a while ago.” Relief crashed through his body in a wave. “Wouldn’t it have killed me already if it was the same thing?”

  “Oh.” Pip’s hands slid down the bars she was clutching until she crumpled to the ground, her dress pooling around her like a dirty cloud.

  “Why are you wearing that dress, Pip?” Tate tried to breathe the stress from his lungs. He was going to live. Probably.

  “Father made me marry Edison today. That’s what the soup was for. It was part of our wedding feast.”

  “And Edison poisoned Father’s soup? Is that what you’re saying?”

  She nodded. “Yes. And he told me that he also poisoned yours. He thought that would make me Queen and as my husband, he’d be able to gain control of the kingdom.”

  A headache gripped Tate around the temples. This was all too much to take in. He’d gone from staring at the stone walls in total boredom to having all this information to process.

  “So, who poisoned Edison’s soup then?” he asked.

  “I don’t know!” she wailed. “Anybody could have. I wish I had the courage to do something like that. But it wasn’t me.”

  “I’m glad it wasn’t you,” he said. It’d been hard enough watching her blame herself for their mother’s death all these years. He didn’t want her carrying any more guilt on her shoulders.

  “It wasn’t River, was it?” Pip asked. “She was there. She could somehow have switched your soup for Edison’s.”

  “No!” He surprised himself with the force he used to push this word from his chest. “River’s a gentle soul. She didn’t like Edison, but she wouldn’t kill him. It wasn’t her. Someone else must have done it. Or he got confused and poisoned himself by mistake.”

  “Are you sad that Father’s dead?” Pip asked.

  “I’m not sure.” This was the most honest answer he could give her right now. His father had never treated him with love, making it clear what a disappointment he was to him. Sometimes it was hard to believe they shared the same genes. They were so different. Edison would probably have made him a better son. They were a lot more alike, even in looks. How ironic that they’d died together.

  “I’ve just realized something,” said Pip, standing up. “If Father’s dead, then that makes you King. You can get out of here! They can’t hold the King prisoner.”

  Tate leaped to his feet, too. Pip was right. And as much as he didn’t want to be King, he really did want to get out of this cell.

  “Guard!” Pip called. “Release my brother immediately. He’s our King.”

  Tate blinked in the dim light, wondering if perhaps he’d been too fast to dismiss the possibility that River had something to do with these deaths. The last thing she’d said to him was that she was going to find a way to get him out of here. She’d said she didn’t care what it was that she had to do. But was murder included on that list?

  What exactly had his beautiful wife done, and did he really know her at all?

  RIVER

  THE NOW

  River stood perfectly still, watching the chaos around her.

  The King was dead. Edison was dead. And that made Tate not only a free man, but it made him the King. And it also made her the Queen.

  She pulled back her shoulders and tried to take that in.

  Queen of The Bay of Laurel.

  It really did feel strange.

  The King had deserved his death and as she’d watched him choke down his last breath of air, she hadn’t been able to find a single part of herself that was sorry.r />
  Although, she didn’t really understand what had happened. Because no matter how much she stood to gain from the King’s death, she wasn’t responsible for it. She wouldn’t know how to poison someone, even if she wanted to.

  There were only two people who would know how to do that and one of them had died a horrible death only moments after the King, so it couldn’t have been him. That left one.

  Ariel.

  It had to be Ariel. She knew what foods healed and she knew what foods harmed. And she’d been sitting right by Edison’s side as he’d eaten his soup.

  But Ariel had been devastated when Edison had fallen to the ground. Her grief was obvious to all. But was it really grief? Or was it something else? Was it guilt?

  Why would Ariel murder her own son? She was the only person in the world who loved him, even if deep down she knew the color of his soul. Surely mothers didn’t kill their children, not even mothers of children who grew up to be like Edison.

  River’s eyes went to Ariel now. She was standing beside her son’s body. Her tears had stopped and she was staring at him in silence, perhaps contemplating where she’d gone wrong.

  The thing that didn’t make sense to River, was why Ariel would poison the King? What could she possibly have to gain from that?

  But there’d be time for questions later. Right now she needed to get to Tate. Her husband. Her King.

  She turned around to go to the palace, but before she could get far, someone grabbed her on the arm. She gasped to see it was Ariel.

  “I have to go,” said River, trying to pry her fingers from her arm.

  “Are you going to see Tate?” Ariel’s eyes were wild and her dark hair flew in all directions, reminding River of Tate when he’d come back from the cornfields.

  River nodded. “I need to make sure he’s okay.”

  “He’s okay,” said Ariel. “He’s better than okay. He’s going to be a wonderful King.”

  “Keep your voice down.” River glanced around. Now wasn’t a time for public celebration with their King’s body still warm on the ground. It could be considered treason.