The Edinburgh Seer Complete Trilogy

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The Edinburgh Seer Complete Trilogy Page 1

by Alisha Klapheke




  The Edinburgh Seer Trilogy

  Complete Trilogy

  Alisha Klapheke

  Contents

  The Edinburgh Seer

  1. Candymaker’s Daughter

  2. Living in the Darkness

  3. Gone

  4. Without

  5. The Bluefoot

  6. Secret

  7. The Origin

  8. Dance As It All Goes Down

  9. An Ancient Feud

  10. A Question

  11. Confession

  12. Guilt and Oatmeal

  13. The Vaults

  14. A Tangle of Lies

  15. A Castle on the Sea

  16. Attack

  17. Seer

  18. Worries Under the Nighttime Sun

  19. St. Andrews

  20. A Reel and a Stramash

  21. Fully Loaded

  22. A Doister

  23. Revelations

  24. Creature

  25. My Enemy’s Nightmare

  26. If Only for a Few More Minutes

  27. And the Earth Trembled

  28. Sweet and Sour

  The Edinburgh Heir

  1. Sugar-coated Plots

  2. Experiments and Fear

  3. To Light the Fuse

  4. Sleeping Leader

  5. Feeding the Fire

  6. Hair Dye and Secrets

  7. A Little Breaking and Entering

  8. A Dream Come True

  9. Blood and Maybes

  10. A Hidden Enemy

  11. Lady Greensleeves

  12. In the Kingdom of Alba

  13. Decisions and Fireworks

  14. Colorful Training

  15. A Calling of the Clans

  16. Demons to Wrestle

  17. Among the Twisted Vines

  18. With a Shout and a Turn

  19. The Weight of Love

  20. Be It Kenned to All

  21. Boom

  22. Deadly Dreams

  23. In the Darkness

  24. A Brother Lost

  25. The Steel to Rise

  The Edinburgh Fate

  1. Strangers and Concoctions

  2. A New Kind of Devil

  3. A Blessing

  4. All the Roses Falling

  5. A Tortured Shout

  6. Torn

  7. Seared Bones

  8. The Crumbling Labyrinth

  9. A Crown of Beaten Gold

  10. Gallows Humor

  11. Spilling Blood

  12. The Curse of Hope

  13. Ghostly

  14. Quelle Surprise

  15. Old Magic

  16. Reunion

  17. The World Burns Bright

  18. To the Sky

  19. Banished

  20. Destined

  21. Kings and Queens

  22. Fire

  Scots Slang Dictionary

  WATERS OF SALT AND SIN (a sample)

  This is a work of fiction. All events, dialogue, and characters are products of the author’s imagination. In all respects, any resemblance to persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  Text copyright © 2017 by Alisha Klapheke

  Cover art copyright © 2017 by Damonza

  All rights reserved.

  Visit Alisha on the web! http://www.alishaklapheke.com

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Klapheke, Alisha

  The Edinburgh Seer/Alisha Klapheke. —First Edition.

  Summary: A candymaker’s daughter conceals her sixth sense to avoid the firing squad until her father is kidnapped and she must use her ability to track him through a trail of ancient artifacts.

  ISBN 978-0-9987379-6-6 (trade)

  ISBN 978-0-9987379-7-3 (ebook)

  [1. Fantasy. 2. Magic—Fiction.] I. Title.

  Printed in the United States of America

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  First Edition

  ISBN: 978-0-9987379-7-3

  Created with Vellum

  To my Uncommon Crew and my Reading Rebels

  May the goats be with you

  Chapter 1

  Candymaker’s Daughter

  Summer, 2017, Fifteenth Year of John III’s Reign

  The morning sun had just managed to paint a pale yellow light over Edinburgh’s Old Town, and, as usual, Aini MacGregor had already run three errands and set up her father’s candy lab for the day’s work. Pots, scrubbed and warmed, on the stove. Measuring spoons shined to make the morning sun jealous. Bags of powdered sugar and vials of hormones and chemicals standing in place like disciplined kingsmen. Everything was exactly where it needed to be.

  The tower was chilly this time of day and goosebumps hurried over Aini’s skin as she unscrewed a jar and shifted the newly purchased cinnamon into its tidy home. She inhaled the lovely scent. Tears burned her eyes—not because of the many spices she had at her fingertips, but because of the rasping voice carried on the wind through the cracked, leaded window above her head—the voice of Nathair Campbell, the very powerful man who would shoot her dead if he knew what she was.

  A sixth-senser.

  Demanding her skittering heart to quit distracting her, Aini continued about her work. Today would be a great one for her father, Lewis MacGregor, crafter of the nobility’s beloved sweets. Together, with the apprentices’ help, they shaped goodies that not only tasted divine, but gave the eater certain short-term abilities usually enjoyed by birds or insects, or only dreamed up by wild imaginations. They’d been a hit at the king’s last birthday party. The British king was a terrible man—Aini couldn’t change that—but at least his parties helped with business. With the vision-inducing gum they were about to craft and test, the MacGregor business, Enliven, was poised to rule the boutique sweets market. If only the stupid thugs, the Campbells, would leave well enough alone.

  Clan Campbell worked for the king, maintaining his rules here in Scotland. But lately…they seemed to have become very full of themselves and were taking on projects that Aini was certain the king himself knew nothing about.

  “Who is shouting to wake the dead in the Grassmarket?” Neve demanded in place of a Good Morning. Father’s female apprentice padded into the room. When she wasn’t working in the lab, Neve took tourists around Scotland with Caledonia Tours. She knew her history, that was for sure.

  With quick fingers and a smile, the Edinburgh native pulled her hair into two high buns and secured them with pins. All the girls here wore their hair like that. Aini tugged at one of her own heavy, black locks. It refused to be tied up, but even though it made her stand out—not many half Balinese girls in Scotland—she couldn’t hate it. It reminded her of her mom, a woman who hadn’t been perfect, but who’d loved her completely.

  Aini straightened her lab coat and eyed the king’s rules hanging on the wall. An identical list of “Scottish citizens cannot do this” and “All citizens and colonials must do that” were posted in every pub, home, and store in the entire British Empire. Even across the pond in the rebellious Dominion of New England colonies. Aini wondered if they’d ever get over their 18th century loss. They were nearly as bad as the Scottish rebels here.

  Blinking, she remembered Neve’s earlier question. “Nathair Campbell is down there, dirtying the morning.”

  Neve made a Scottish sound of disgust in the back of her throat. Aini couldn’t have agreed more. “I’m excited about that new gum recipe,” Neve said.

  Perfectly on time—because Aini perfectly timed it—the gum base started to bubble on the stove.

  “Your white pepper idea for the gum is going to work. I can feel it.” Aini wiped her hands on a towel, breathing in the sweet smells. “I reall
y think it’ll trigger the chewer’s schema for fire.”

  Neve grinned, and Aini realized her Dominion of New England accent was blazing again.

  Thane loped into the lab, and Aini’s heart whirred like a broken taffy puller and pushed every other thought out of her head. At six-foot-four, the Scotsman dominated the room, all broad shoulders, gray flashing eyes, and downturned mouth. He pulled his glasses out of his messy, honey-colored hair and headed toward his lab coat on the far hook. Mud caked the toes of his boots, and a silver necklace winked from his collarbone.

  Because of who Aini was, and what Aini was, Thane with his late nights and penchant for whisky was the very definition of Look, but don’t touch. She had to be careful. Do nothing dangerous. Never break any rules.

  “Good morning, Thane.”

  Just because he wasn’t for her didn’t mean she had to be rude. After all, he was Father’s favorite, besides herself, of course. Thane had developed the original formula for the vision gum. Aini wished she had half the brains he did.

  “We’re almost ready to mix,” she said.

  His gaze slid over her fingers and up her arms, and he gave her a nod.

  As Neve measured out the pepper, Aini held a hand toward the bubbling broiler. “A little help?” she asked Thane. Her face heated. Why did her cheeks have to flush so easily?

  “Aye. Course.” Thane’s thick, West Scots accent wrapped around every O and tripped over each R beautifully.

  Tugging his coat on, Thane slid his glasses onto his slightly overlarge nose. Tattoos of chemical formulas snaked down his fingers in black letters, tiny numbers, and mathematical symbols. Aini leaned forward a little. NaCl was salt. Another finger had a V over a t and—oh—it was the formula for viscosity. But the other markings? She could never quite get a good look at them.

  Father walked in, wearing his usual style—all black under his lab coat, and every item ironed into full submission. He winked before readying the powdered sugar at the lab’s silver table. He still wore his wedding ring, though the divorce happened long before Aini’s mother died two years ago. She sighed, wishing she could do something about that pain.

  “I was thinking,” Father said to Thane, “if we used a pressure cooker to force the Maillard reaction in tomorrow’s Dulce de Leche recipe…”

  Thane’s face brightened. “We could decrease the cooking time by perhaps six times.” Thane lifted the pot as Aini stirred. His arm brushed hers and she swallowed. “Genius, Mr. MacGregor,” Thane said.

  “Will you never stop with the Mr. MacGregor? Just Lewis, please.”

  Thane smiled at Father like he was his own, like Father could somehow heal the hurt that clouded the uni student’s eyes. But it was all right. She wasn’t jealous. Aini knew Father was good at providing a stable life, a simple and scheduled way of living, something maybe Thane hadn’t experienced before apprenticing here.

  “Neve, will you please warm up the mixer?” Father wiped a spot of sugar off his nose and set his planner on the desk near the far end of the lab. The green and blue sugar, in the jars he’d mounted on the whitewashed wall, sparkled. He frowned like there was something unpleasant about them. Aini touched her chin. She’d always wondered why he displayed the jars like that. They’d never used those colored sugars and surely it would be better to have them with the other ingredients, organized by the lab table. She’d look into it later.

  Father shook his head and went to help Thane pour the steaming gum base into the powdered sugar.

  The lab’s landline rang and Aini picked up. A familiar, rough voice asked for Lewis MacGregor. Aini gritted her teeth. Not them again. Her grip on the phone tightened.

  “Hold please.” She looked to Father. “It’s for you.”

  He stared at the ceiling, eyes pressed closed, before finally taking the call.

  While Neve dealt with the mixer’s perpetually moody switch across the room—all while humming a song loved by Father’s other male apprentice, Myles—Aini took Father’s place beside Thane.

  Plunging her hands into the gum blend, she kneaded the sticky stuff. The mix was ready for flavor. The powdered sage, white pepper, and smoky nutmeg did nothing to improve the color of the chewing gum, but she was pretty sure Neve was on to something with this flavor choice. The herbs and spices, along with the medieval art packaging that Myles had drawn up, might just get people seeing ancient castles and feasts in great halls. Chemistry crossed with suggestion. It was how the human brain worked.

  “No.” Father’s knuckles whitened as he squeezed the phone. “I’m not going to weaponize my products. Not until I see the royal approval. I’m finished talking about this.” He punched a button and threw the phone to his desk where it banged against his laptop. “Campbells. Pushing and pushing. Playing both sides, and I know very well I’m not going to be the winner no matter how…” Muttering, he stalked back to the table. “I need to get something from my downstairs office. Give me a shout when we’re ready to test.” He disappeared down the staircase, growling about being left in peace.

  The Campbells made up the majority of kingsmen stationed in Edinburgh. Normally, they were the law, acting as the king’s agents, along with the other kingsmen. But since that public execution of those rebels last month, things had been different. Nathair Campbell had executed Scottish subjects without a trial of any kind. The king had excused him, blaming overzealous loyalty to the crown, but Aini wasn’t so sure. Clan Campbell was less an arm of the king and more of a criminal gang these days. Aini couldn’t believe they were pressuring Father to develop products that could covertly paralyze and poison without the king’s seal of approval. Even if it was to fight the rebels. It was unfathomable.

  Thane breathed hard through his nose like an angry horse.

  She eyed the gum, looking for dry spots or uneven spicing. “What is it? What’s off?”

  Vine-like muscles twisted below Thane’s rolled coat sleeves. He dusted his hands off and pushed his glasses into his hair. “If your father would agree to aid the Campbells, he’d be helping Scotland fight the rebels.”

  “He doesn’t want to twist our craft into something sick and evil.” She put her hands on her hips and powdered sugar puffed like little clouds. Flushing, she brushed herself off. “He’s worked long and hard to establish Enliven. It’s a boutique candy supplier. Not a government laboratory. Besides that, why can’t the Campbells go through the official channels and find their own chemists if they’re so set on this?”

  Neve gathered the pre-blended gum mix. “Because Mr. MacGregor is the best chemist in the empire and they know it.”

  “Well, we’re going to follow the official rules.” Aini crossed her arms. “The king could shut us down and you know it.”

  Neve opened her mouth and closed it again. She hurried to the mixer and dropped her bundle into the metal bowl.

  Aini chewed the inside of her cheek. She didn’t want to be hard on Neve, but the rules were the rules.

  “The Campbells and the king have the same goal, don’t they?” Thane frowned. “What difference does fussing about with royal seals make?”

  “If my father skirts the law like the Campbells want him to do, the Campbells might get away with it, but I seriously doubt he will.”

  An image flashed through her memory—an executed sixth-senser.

  The woman had been about her mother’s age. Aini remembered the lady’s wispy, auburn hair. The black band across her eyes. Her body jerking as the bullet hit her chest. The red blood against her striped dress. Her clothing said native Edinburgh, the style Aini tried to imitate. But even fitting in hadn’t saved her.

  If Aini was found out, the Campbells would assume Father knew about her ability, which he didn’t. She squeezed her hands together. She couldn’t even think about him rotting in a dark cell.

  When the gum was mixed and cooled, Thane cut the ropes into small pieces and Aini called her father back up to the lab. It was time to see if the gum really worked.

  The light
through the lab’s windows cast a net of gold around Aini’s father as he peered at his watch. He handed Aini the clipboard of notes they’d destroy as soon as the trial was complete. They couldn’t let anyone outside of Enliven get a hold of the information. The competition would leap at the chance to outdo them. Because of this, Aini and the rest had become very, very good at remembering recipes.

  Neve and Aini found seats and Thane took a stool, ready to try the gum.

  “Where is Myles anyway?” Neve asked.

  Aini was actually glad Father’s second male apprentice wasn’t here. “Buying new paints for his adverts.” Myles was great fun, but he could really be a distraction during tests like this.

  Father stared at Thane. “I want to know the very minute—the exact moment—you see something.” He started the timer on his watch.

  “Aye,” Thane popped the gum between his lips and chewed, rubbing a hand over his sharp chin.

 

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