The Edinburgh Seer Complete Trilogy

by Alisha Klapheke

  A woman raised a hand. “I do. Been keeping it safe on Vera’s orders.”

  “Then come with me, please.” He started toward the door. “Our Seer needs us now more than ever.”

  The vibes of the group behind him gave him the strength to open the door and begin the next grueling step in this revolution.

  Chapter 25

  The Steel to Rise

  Minutes, hours, days, an eternity later, the door opened and one of the older men from the safe house back in Greenock strode up to the desk.

  “Vera just spoke to a Ms. Smith, of the Magnolia Plantation in the southern colonies. She claims to have wired a very large sum of money to a coded account for Myles and what she called his difficulties.”

  Myles popped up. “Since when does she care?”

  The messenger nodded. “Ms. Smith declared that no one is permitted to treat her son poorly. That she will not allow it.”

  Myles threw up his hands. “Yeah. Only she can treat me like crap. Tell her she can shove her money. I refuse to take it.”

  “But Mr. Smith…”

  “It would be useful, Myles,” Neve said.

  “I can’t.” Myles sat back down. “I just can’t let her be a part of my life. Not anymore.”

  Aini touched his shoulder and nodded.

  The messenger looked to each of them, then seemed resigned to Myles’s decision. “Fine then. I will inform those involved. The money will be not be used.”

  “I wonder what she’ll make of that,” Myles said. “I’ve never turned money down.”

  Neve kissed his temple.

  Bran walked in. What appeared to be the entirety of the gathering of clans and Dionadair behind him. They filed in and stood silent.

  Aini studied the gathering and swallowed.

  “We come to honor you, support you, and arm you, Seer,” Bran said, rather formally.

  A woman stepped forward and placed a familiar knife in Aini’s hands. Bog oak hilt. The scent of history and power clouding around its ancient fittings and blade.

  Her hand clasped it with a mind of its own and strength flowed through her like a shot of adrenaline. She tucked it firmly into her waistband and raised her eyes to the group, her pulse steady and loud in her ears.

  “I won’t go over what we already know. What you may not know is that I am never going to give up on Thane or this rebellion. Not until my hearts stops beating. And if you’re with me, I say we put our heads together and make a plan to liberate our Heir!”

  Vera crossed her thumbs and shouted, the room joining in. Myles, Neve, Bran, and Senga stood by Aini’s sides, determination sharpening their features.

  She turned away from the group to stare into the starlit sky. Her heart thudded in her throat, pushing her blood through her body so quickly she felt like she was falling. Her mind showed her images of every vision she’d ever had.

  Mother in a wedding gown.

  Father holding her as a baby.

  Thane in the garden with Senga and Nathair.

  Myles’s mother.

  Ghosts and memories, emotions like a whirlwind of color nearly overwhelmed her. She put a hand to the cold, cold window and spoke like Thane still stood next to her, powerful and prepared.

  “We will rise, Thane. We are coming for you. Never forget who you are.”

  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 © 2018 by Alisha Klapheke

  Cover art copyright © 2018 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 Fate/Alisha Klapheke. —First Edition.

  Summary: Chosen by fate, a Seer and a spy must lead a revolution to save their loved ones and the country of their hearts.

  ISBN 978-0-9998314-1-0 (trade)

  ISBN 978-0-998314-0-3 (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

  Created with Vellum

  Chapter 1

  Strangers and Concoctions

  Aini crossed the wide stones of Senga Campbell’s basement kitchen and soaked in the familiar scents of mint, rosemary, white pepper, and cinnamon. The delicious smells of candymaking helped her rein in the vicious anger and crushing frustration she’d felt since Callum betrayed them and Nathair stole Thane away. The scents kept the flashbacks at bay and helped her act somewhat normally.

  Neve stood by an ancient oven. A black pot hung from an arm over open coals and Neve stirred the contents with a wooden spoon. “The caramel is ready for the speed chemicals.”

  Pretending she wasn’t about to fall apart, Aini nodded shakily and examined her ingredient list. Thane had created the new caramels, but thankfully, he’d told her what he’d included. She unscrewed the glass vial one of the Campbell family doctors had provided and carefully removed one dropper-full of the adrenaline-hormone mix. They were very lucky the doctor understood Thane’s amounts and ingredients.

  Aini approached Neve with measured steps. Then, eyeing the candy thermometer, Aini waited until the red marker rose to the right spot and in the chemicals went. Both of them exhaled with relief.

  Neve wiped her forehead with her sleeve. “I hope they work.”

  “They will.”

  Aini set the vial beside the sink where some of Senga’s cooks were helping to clean up. The men and women wore bright green gloves up to their elbows according to Aini’s directions. Thane’s mother didn’t want anyone who wasn’t familiar with this kind of work to accidentally come in contact with something that might hurt them or throw them for a mental loop.

  Aini watched as Myles cut pieces of vision-inducing chewing gum. The long, wooden table sat against the far wall under a third set of copper pans. “We still need a way to incapacitate the enemy without killing them.”

  Myles whirled, his butcher knife paused over the pink slices of gum.

  “Careful,” Aini said, watching the knife.

  Myles ignored her. “We could weaken the Bismian formula,” he said. “Then we could wear gloves and—”

  “I just don’t think that’s going to work. We really need Thane’s formula for those altered cherry drops. The ones we used at Bass Rock.”

  Standing under the archway leading out of the kitchen, Senga spoke to someone on the phone. “Already? She’ll be so pleased, I’m sure. Good bye.”

  Aini frowned. “Who was that, if I may ask?”

  “You may ask anything you like, my Seer.” Senga’s sad smile was genuine. Despite everything going south, she still respected Aini’s role and was behind the revolution all the way.

  “Aini.” Myles pointed his knife out the window. “Seer. Whatever I’m supposed to call you. Come here—a certain man who may or may not be obsessed with perfectly ironed clothing is walking up the drive like he owns the place.”

  Aini’s mouth fell open and she glanced at Senga. “Is that who you were talking to?”

  Senga gave her a half-grin and shooed her toward the window.

  Aini ran to join Myles and Neve.

  Lewis MacGregor, Aini’s illustrious chemist father, hurried past the ice-slicked greenery, eyes squinting against the fall sun. And the earth righted itself a fraction.

  It wouldn’t sit evenly though until Thane was in Aini’s arms, but with the lab and her friends and Father here, Aini could walk the ground instead of scrambling along in the dirt, desperate and terrified beneath her strong shell of duty.

  Lewis met them in the lab. His mouth tipped down at the edges, and Aini battled tears. She hugged him tightly.

  “We will take him back, squirrel,” her father said. “He is strong. It will be all right.�
�

  They both knew his words were a naïve comfort. Aini, herself, held prisoners in a hidden dungeon under their feet. The worst of men—King John and Earl Nathair—were both after her blood. Thane was in the hands of his most feared enemy, his own father. Nothing was going to be all right. But she let the promise cloak the chill in her heart despite its holes.

  “You didn’t have any trouble on the way, Mr. MacGregor?” Neve cleaned her sugared fingers on her apron.

  “I did. Just a bit. But there is time enough to tell that story. I’m here and that’s what matters.”

  “You still going to help out with the intel branch?” Myles shook his hand.

  “Aye. I can do that just as easily from here. If the elders approve it.”

  “Of course they will,” Aini said. “Now, we have a problem.”

  Father rubbed his hands together. “Let’s get to it.”

  “We need a way to incapacitate Nathair’s men but in a way that is safe for our operatives, and if possible, can be administered from a distance.” Aini helped Myles wrap pieces of gum while Father studied the list of chemical additives in the caramel.

  “You need darts. Poison darts. Like they use in big animal veterinarian services.”

  Aini smiled. “Yes. Exactly. But the only thing we currently have on hand that puts people out is the Bismian.”

  “What about those cherry drops you used on Bass Rock?”

  “We only have a few left, and I don’t know what would happen if we melted them down to coat dart tips.”

  Father traded a look with her. Aini knew very well what he was thinking. She needed Thane. In so many ways. “If I’m careful, I can come up with something that might work. Do we have someone who can procure an actual dart gun and darts?”

  Senga lifted a hand. “I will see to that.” She left the room, already talking to someone on her phone.

  “We need a tiny copper pot.” Father pointed to one high on a hook.

  “I’ll monkey up there and get it.” Myles grabbed a three-legged stool and climbed on top.

  Father rubbed his tidy beard. “And three full vials of the cherry drop hormone.”

  “On it.” Crates sat on the big table in the middle of the room. The glass containers with the hormones were nestled in straw that poked Aini’s fingers as she retrieved three of them.

  “I’m trying to think like our boy,” Father said, speaking of Thane. “He would’ve distilled our basic recipe, but he had to have added something to hit the nervous system. Some anticholinergic ingredients.” His gaze went to the window. “Is there a medicinal garden on the grounds? Do we have access to dried herbs like nightshade? Or maybe henbane?”

  One of the kitchen workers raised her green-gloved hand. “We do, aye. I can get them for you. If you like.” The woman couldn’t seem to look at him.

  “That would be wonderful. Thank you.”

  The worker motioned to the other kitchen folk, then they all hurried out of the room as a group.

  “They’re off to tattle on you, Mr. MacGregor.” Myles tapped a rhythm on the little copper pot he’d retrieved, then hopped down from the stool. “The handsome chemist wants some deadly herbs, my lady.” He’d adopted a ridiculous accent that no one here actually had. “I want to refuse him for fear of what he’ll do, but he’s so dreamy.” Myles fluttered his lashes and held his hands against his cheek.

  “Nonsense.” Cheeks going red, Father pivoted away to answer his ringing phone. The voice on the line sounded curt and military, but Aini couldn’t catch what they were saying. “Yes, I think so,” Father said quietly. “It was sent just this morning.” He mumbled something about a code and French troops.

  Neve grabbed the copper pot and knocked it against Myles’s stomach. “You’re embarrassing Mr. MacGregor. Shut your gob.”

  “Yeah, colonial. Shut it.” Aini grinned, her eyes burning with unshed tears as she mimicked Thane’s voice. He should’ve been in the lab with them, laughing and working.

  “Ah, Aini.” Neve came to her and crushed her in a hug. “We’ll get him back. We will.”

  Vera exploded into the room. “I heard Aini’s da is here and is ready to craft some sleep darts for us?”

  She looked left and right, then saw Father on his phone in the far corner. He ended his call and turned as Vera grabbed his face and planted a kiss right on his mouth.

  Aini’s own mouth fell open.

  “You’re a grand addition here, Mr. MacGregor. Thank you for joining us again!” Vera spun and was gone from the kitchen before anyone had time to react.

  Father wiped red lipstick from his face. “Well that was…nice.”

  “Why is everyone suddenly in love with my father?” Aini asked, frowning.

  He smiled. “I don’t think everyone is in love with me. There’s most likely some fascination with me being the Seer’s father. You have a magic in you, squirrel, and many will think it runs in my blood too. Now, enough of this silliness, we have work to do.”

  Aini relaxed into the rhythm of lab work. Measuring chemicals and hormones. Stirring. Counting down time on the clock as something warmed to a bubbling boil. She tucked her fears for Thane away for the time being, knowing well they would hit at night when the work wasn’t there to distract her.

  The grandfather clock chimed midnight well before Aini climbed into Thane’s bed. Her mind was bursting with gun counts, kingsmen reports, darts and levels of toxicity. They’d discussed Gilmerton Cove—the labyrinth of underground passageways and rooms the rebels would use as a new headquarters. It sat under a sympathetic noble’s estate outside Edinburgh proper. The noble had been paid well to keep his and his family’s mouths shut on the deal, but Aini had her doubts. She’d seen that very nobleman share a drink with Earl Nathair Campbell, the King’s Deathbringer and Thane’s own father, once at one of the king’s parties. Nathair had allies crawling everywhere.

  Needless to say, sleep wasn’t coming to visit Aini anytime soon.

  She rolled to her side and ran a hand down the emerald velvet duvet, remembering her last moments with Thane. The feel of his calloused fingers under her jaw and the warmth behind his knee and on the inside of his thigh. She could summon the scent of him, the timbre of his voice in her ear, the electric feel of his presence in the room.

  “Aini.”

  She sat up. That had been his voice. Right then. In her ear.

  Her rational mind gave her a terrible possibility.

  He is dead. You are a Ghost Talker and you are speaking to the dead.

  But she threw that out immediately, crushing it with gritted teeth and an anger that surprised her. It was her imagination. Her fatigue. She needed sleep. Shock had taken its toll. That made sense.

  Forcing herself to settle down, she pulled the duvet to her chin and shut her eyes. Aini refused to be dragged into foolishness and useless worry simply because her body was breaking down. That would not be allowed. Pure determination finally brought her a sleep with no dreams.

  The next morning, Aini laced up a new pair of boots and began tightening the wide belt Vera bought her in town last night. Wedged between the belt’s two layers, Macbeth’s knife pressed comfortingly against Aini’s hip. She’d sewn a pouch to the belt too and it held altered sweets, specifically the Cone5 taffy that helped her see spirits, and several hard candies in case she needed a better view.

  There was knock on the door. Aini touched her once-again black hair—some of Senga’s stylists had helped her return it to normal—and tugged the sleeves of her fitted sweater into place. She adjusted the thick leggings under her short, split skirt, and turned the brass knob to find Neve.

  “They’re ready for you.” Neve was talking about the entire rebel group. They’d gathered for a final send off. “Are you ready for them?” Neve somehow looked leaner, meaner, and Aini was glad to see it. She would need that hunger to survive this.

  “I am, but first I’m going to the…holding cells.” It was a dungeon, but saying that word was truly frighteni
ng. How could she have people in a dungeon? This was all madness. “I wanted to be there when Bran questions Callum, and Nathair’s captured men too. Do you have what you need?”

  Neve nodded and patted the pocket of her heavy, nicely tailored wool jacket. Aini knew very well the tailoring wasn’t to show off Neve’s waistline. It was made so the shoulders and sleeves wouldn’t hinder movement in a fight. The pocket was also filled with strength chocolate and ammo for the gun tucked into the waistband of her wide-legged trousers.

  On the stairs, Myles waited. He’d shaved his head again and his coat collar stood up to block the cold from his neck. His blue eyes studied something small and shiny in his palm. “Aini. Rob found this and said maybe you should have it.” He held up the Bethune brooch and Aini’s feet froze in place.

  This was the object that had started everything.

  Knowing she wouldn’t see the vision again—she never saw imprinted visions more than once—she slowly extended her hand.

  “They said as the Seer, you should wear it along with MacBeth’s knife,” Myles whispered.

  The metal cooled Aini’s fingertips. She ran a thumb over the clan motto. Graceful, the scrolling words said in French. Thane had translated it for her in the lab in Edinburgh. It seemed as though years had passed between that day and this one, but it had only turned from summer to autumn. If she and Thane had been honest with one another from the first, would they still be trapped by Nathair and the king or would they have won already? She closed her hand around the old piece of jewelry. There was no use in What Ifs. Nathair had Thane, and the rebellion had spun out of control. But Aini wouldn’t stop fighting for Thane and Scotland until she was dead on the ground.

  Neve took the brooch with a sad smile and slid its pin through the thinner edge of Aini’s belt. She looked up, then her lips parted. “Aini.”

  Myles whistled. “Did you just see that, Nevie?”