by Sally Green
It was getting dark now, and March hadn’t returned. But Edyon’s doubts had. Had it all been his imagination? He’d had a lot of strong smoke. But he’d met March before the smoke. Could the whole thing be a prank? There had been, after all, just words so far. He would need proof before he could go with March to Calidor.
It sounded unbelievable. Going to Calidor to meet his father.
He was now truly at a crossroads; his old path of thievery had run its course, and he had to choose a new way forward. Madame Eruth had been right about the new man entering his life, but was March showing him the way to far lands and riches, or pain, suffering, and death? No, staying put would lead to that, through either Stone or Gravell or this new threat, Regan. The path to his father had to be the right choice. But, then again, hadn’t Madame Eruth said something about the foreign man lying too? Was this all a lie? A joke?
And still March hadn’t returned.
Edyon paced anxiously. The glow of the smoke bottle seemed to get brighter and brighter, as if signaling his presence. He walked along the riverbank until he found a recess into which he pushed the bottle so that none of its light could be seen.
Edyon crept closer to the edge of the wood, hoping to catch sight of March. The tents were only a field away, and he could see people coming and going. But there was no sign of March. Had he been lying about it all?
Suddenly Edyon knew that he had to speak to his mother. Her word was the only real proof. He had given up asking years ago, but now he had a name. She’d have to confirm or deny it.
Now she’d have to tell him the truth.
* * *
Erin stood as he entered the tent.
“Edyon. At last. I’ve had Mal out looking for you. I need to speak to you.”
“That’s good, because I want to speak with you too.” Edyon moved closer to his mother. “Today has been rather eventful. Shall I tell you what I’ve done?”
“First, I need to tell you about a visitor I’ve had—”
“I’ve been to see Madame Eruth, stolen a silver ship from Stone, been beaten up by Stone’s men and pissed on by them as well, met a beautiful boy from Abask, had a bath, taken some demon smoke, and discovered my father is a prince.”
Edyon stared at his mother. Erin’s face was a mask. “Shall I repeat the last bit? Someone told me that my father is Prince Thelonius of Calidor.”
“Who . . . who told you that?”
“Well, it certainly wasn’t you.”
“You’re angry.”
“You’re surprised?”
“Did you see Regan? Did he tell you?”
“What does that matter?” Edyon’s voice cracked with frustration. “I wanted you to tell me.”
His mother was silent, but not for long. “You know I’ve always done what I thought was best.”
Edyon rolled his eyes. “I’ve heard that before. Heard it for long enough. Just tell me: is it true? I need to hear it from you.”
Again she was silent. The mistress of silence, as she always had been. Then she spoke.
“Prince Thelonius is your father.”
She sat down. Edyon sat too.
It was true.
His father wasn’t dead.
His father was a prince.
He was a prince.
“How?”
And so his mother told her story. The same one she’d always told him, except now his father had a name. She had met Thelonius when he was still a young man, before he was granted the rule of Calidor. They fell in love, had a brief but wonderful affair, and he left not knowing she was pregnant.
“Would you have married? If he had known?”
Erin shrugged. “Probably not. He was a prince, and I was a trader from Pitoria.”
“You should have told me.”
“I did what I thought was best.”
“It wasn’t best. I needed to know. It doesn’t matter that I couldn’t have done anything about it. I needed to know.”
“I’m not sure about that.”
Edyon ground his teeth. “Even now you won’t admit you got it wrong!”
“I didn’t do this to hurt you, Edyon. You need to be your own man. The prince, your father, didn’t want to know you. Now he does. Now he needs you. Now his legitimate children are dead. He’ll use you, Edyon, pull you on a string.”
“He’s my father. I want to meet him at least.”
Erin sighed. “Yes. Of course. I do understand, Edyon. Did you meet Lord Regan?”
“No. I heard from one of the prince’s servants who was sent here to find me and to . . .” Should he tell his mother that Regan was here to kill him? She’d worry, but Regan might be a danger to her as well.
“To what?”
“To warn me. Regan doesn’t want me to go back to Calidor, Mother. March says he’s here to kill me.”
“But that’s impossible! He was here this afternoon, talking with me, waiting to see you. I said I’d send for him when you returned.”
“And why do you say it’s impossible?”
“Regan was a close friend of your father. His oldest friend. I met him once, years ago, when they were here. He was aloof, maybe, but always polite and courteous.”
“I admit I don’t know many killers, but I imagine some are capable of being polite and courteous.”
“You know what I mean. He’s an honorable man.”
“You knew him that well? And if you did, do you know him now, seventeen, eighteen years later?”
Erin looked at Edyon, doubt in her face for the first time.
“And I can imagine that plenty of his fellow lords don’t like the idea of a bastard like me turning up.”
“Love child, not bastard.”
Edyon rolled his eyes again.
“Love child,” she repeated insistently. “That is what you are.”
“Not to them.”
Erin rubbed her face. She looked tired.
“So?” Edyon asked. “What do you think I should do?”
“Do you want to meet your father?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Then go to him.” Erin sounded petulant.
They sat staring at each other.
In a slightly softer voice Erin said, “I thought Regan could be trusted, but perhaps I’m wrong and this servant is right. Who knows.”
“March, the servant, could have killed me this afternoon and didn’t. I trust him that much.”
“There will be some people, many perhaps, who are against you. The best way, the safest way, is to trust no one.”
“And will you be safe, Mother?”
She gave a bitter laugh. “I am merely the mother. No one’s interested in me.”
“Would you want to come to Calidor?”
“What would I do there? Here I have my own life, my own business. If you stay there, I’ll visit you.” She forced a smile. “Maybe I’ll find some new customers.”
Edyon thought of going to her and hugging her, but it didn’t feel right. They rarely touched. Never hugged. He couldn’t now, but maybe later, before he left.
Erin said, “Whatever happens, I would like to think you won’t forget me. You’ll write often, I’m sure.” She sounded hurt. Formal. Businesslike.
“I’ll write often,” Edyon assured her.
They were silent again. Edyon wasn’t sure what to do. Just packing a bag and walking out felt heartless, but that’s all that was left to be done.
“What was all that about stealing things and being pissed on?”
And suddenly it didn’t seem so hard to tell her after all.
“I steal things. I always have. This time Stone caught me. His guards beat me up and pissed on me, so I went to the bathhouse to clean up and stole some demon smoke from there.”
“What?”
&
nbsp; “As I say, it’s been a busy day.”
“People who trade in demon smoke are dangerous, Edyon.”
“Perhaps it is a good time to leave then. I’ve hidden the smoke. Stone wants paying, though. Fifty kroners. I’m sorry to ask, but . . . could you pay him? I’ll pay you back.”
“Of course, Edyon. The money’s not a problem. Though stealing is.”
“Yes, I’m sorry. It’s not something I’m proud of. But don’t worry about the demon hunters. They don’t know I took the smoke. And, even if they find out, it’s me they’ll look for and . . . well, if I leave soon . . . tonight . . . I wouldn’t worry about them.”
“You’ll go tonight?”
“Yes. Regan could come back at any moment. Him, I am worried about. I’ll go as soon as I can. Make my way to the coast with March. I should be there in a few days. We can get a boat easily enough. I’ll be with Father in a week.” Edyon was just saying things as they came to him, but that final phrase hit him. He’d see his father in a week. It sounded like a dream or a fantasy. It sounded unreal.
Erin rose. “I’ll get Mal to prepare some food for your journey. Are you hungry now? He can bring you something.”
“Yes. Thanks. I’ll just go and pack a few things.”
Edyon hesitated, thinking he should hug his mother now, but she was already going to call for Mal, and so he went to his sleeping tent, sat down on the rug, and stared at nothing. Mal brought him a bowl of stew and some bread and a glass of wine. Though Edyon didn’t think he’d manage to eat it, he devoured the lot. He knew he should start thinking about what to take on his journey, but he wasn’t sure what he needed. What did you need to meet your father? Meet a prince?
He put on his most comfortable clothes and put his best boots, jacket, trousers, and his two best shirts in a bag. It wasn’t that heavy, so he added another warmer jacket. Was it cold in Calidor? Could he take more? Would March carry his bag? He had no idea.
His mother said he should trust no one, but he did trust March. He liked him. He seemed honest. So far it seemed he hadn’t lied at all. And certainly if he’d wanted to kill Edyon he could have done it when he’d been lying in a pool of piss or when he was sleeping off the demon smoke. Edyon could make his way to Calidor by himself easily enough, but wouldn’t it be more pleasurable to spend time with the handsome March? And March could tell him about the prince, how to behave at court, who his enemies might be. Yes, March would be valuable to him.
Edyon was full of energy now. He had made a choice. He was the son of a prince. And he was on his way to meet his father. He picked up his bag and went to say good-bye to his mother.
They did hug, though a little uncomfortably. He kissed her on her cheek and accepted the bag of food and the money she offered him. He took a step toward the front of the tent, but his mother said, “Not that way. Just in case someone is watching. Go out the back.” She came to him again and this time hugged him hard, saying, “Take care, Edyon.”
And Edyon kissed her again, taking in the smell of her perfume.
“Thank you, Mother. I will see you again, but now I need to see my father.”
And he went to the hidden flap at the back of the tent that Mal held open for him, and he was out into the cool night air.
TASH
DORNAN, PITORIA
TASH HAD given up on Gravell and gone back to Edyon’s tent.
She was almost certain he had taken the smoke, but there was one way to be sure. If she could get into the tent, she could search for the stolen bottle. It was risky, but getting the smoke back was the main objective. Edyon could wait—Gravell would find him soon enough.
Tash sauntered casually past the guard at the front of the tent before ducking down the side and picking her way through the web of guy ropes to the rear. But just as she arrived, another figure stepped out through a low flap. He immediately tripped over a guy rope, cursed, stumbled, leaped high over another rope, laughed, and ran off toward the woods.
Tash had quickly moved back out of sight, but even in the dim light she recognized the boy as the one she’d seen in the bathhouse.
Edyon.
He had a bag over his shoulder, and certainly looked guilty slipping furtively out the back of the tent. Was he afraid Gravell was already after him? Tash hurried in pursuit.
Edyon went toward the woods, speeding up when he was clear of the tents. He continued into the trees, then stopped by a stream and seemed to be waiting for someone, looking around constantly.
Tash wasn’t sure what to do. Was he meeting a buyer? If he had the smoke it must be in his bag, but she couldn’t snatch it from him, as it looked too heavy for her to run with. But if someone else turned up she’d have even less of a chance to get the smoke back. There was only one thing for it.
She stepped forward and said, “Hey.”
Edyon jumped like a scalded cat, but he turned and gave a very casual wave of his hand. “Hey.”
“I saw you in the bathhouse,” Tash said.
“I remember. What a coincidence seeing you here too!”
Now he was looking around him with more concern.
“Something went missing from the bathhouse while Gravell and me were . . . when Gravell stepped out of his compartment. I know it was you who took it. I can shout him over, he’s just back there at the tents, but it’d be much easier if you gave it back to me.”
Edyon looked a little more relaxed. He wasn’t afraid of her, just of Gravell. He said, “It?”
“The bottle of smoke. Hand it over. Or shall I call Gravell and you can go through all this with him?”
“Look, I know you’re not going to believe this, but I’m actually glad you’re here. Really. I admit I took the smoke, but I don’t want it. I’m leaving and I wasn’t going to take the smoke with me. I hid it in the riverbank.”
Tash smiled. “Sure you weren’t. And sure you did. And when I go down there to look you’ll hit me on the back of the head with a rock and run off.”
“I wouldn’t hit anyone, and definitely not with a rock.”
“So hand it over then.”
“But how do I know that after I give it back to you, you won’t still send Gravell after me?”
“All you need to know is that if you don’t give it back to me, I’ll call Gravell and he’ll be much less patient than me.”
Edyon smiled. “Why isn’t he with you now? I’m guessing you saw me come out of my tent and followed me here, and he doesn’t know you followed me or he’d be here by now.”
“I can run and get him easily.”
“Go on then. I’ll wait.”
Tash wanted to stamp her foot. If Gravell was here, Edyon would be cowering and whimpering, but instead he was all cocky smiles and clever talk.
“Look. You said you want to give it to me. And yet you haven’t. Gravell blames me for the loss of our stuff. He’ll beat me if I don’t get it back.”
Edyon looked doubtful. “Somehow I can imagine him taking pleasure in knocking my teeth out but not in doing it to you.”
“Shall I show you my back where he whips me?”
As soon as she said it she knew she’d made a mistake.
Edyon put his hands on his hips and grinned. “I think the answer to that has got to be yes.”
Tash felt like screaming. This was so unfair! Why did her conversations always go wrong?
“Just give me the smoke and we can forget it.”
“He’s not here at all, is he?”
Tash hesitated but decided to plead to his good nature. If he had one.
“Fine, fine. I admit he’s not here. Satisfied? He’s back at the inn, if you must know. But he really will hunt you down if you don’t give the smoke back. And he’ll do more than knock your teeth out.”
Edyon spread his arms. “Why didn’t you say so in the first place?”
He slipped down the riverbank. Tash ran forward to see what he was doing. There was a faint purple glow as Edyon pulled a bottle out of a hidden niche. The demon smoke!
Tash hurried down the bank and held out her hand for the bottle.
“Please tell Gravell I’m sorry for the—”
Edyon stopped. The sound of heavy footsteps was unmistakable. Edyon looked up, his eyes wide and panicked. Tash raised her head to peer over the top of the bank. For a moment she thought that maybe Gravell had woken from his drunken stupor after all and followed her.
But it was much worse than that.
The man was big, almost as big as Gravell, but this man had scarlet hair. He was carrying a spear and a small lantern. And he was marching quickly toward them. Tash ducked down again while Edyon stuffed the bottle under his jacket to hide the glow, but the violet light seemed even brighter than ever—and it was far too late anyway.
“Come out from there. I’ve seen you and I know what you’ve got.”
Tash cringed but slowly looked up. The sheriff’s man was standing on the lip of the bank only a few paces away, his spear pointing at Edyon.
“And don’t even think about running.”
But Tash was definitely thinking of running. Being caught, being arrested, being convicted of having demon smoke meant prison for a long time. Running meant the possibility of a spear in the back, but the man only had one spear and Edyon had the smoke, not her. She hesitated, though, hoping for a better chance.
“You’re both under arrest for possessing demon smoke.”
“I don’t have any demon smoke,” Tash said, thinking that if Edyon had just given it to her when she’d asked and not argued so much they’d both have been away from there. In all her years of demon hunting she’d never had any difficulties with the sheriff’s men. This Edyon was just constant trouble.
“Put the bottle by my feet and step back.”
The sheriff’s man flicked his spear at Edyon to show he was talking to him.
Edyon said, “There’s been a terrible misunderstanding here.”