The Johnsonvilles climbed the steps into the tower on the heels of the guards of the Cherry Brigade as quickly as they could. The guards pushed through the half-open wooden door. Beyond was a strawberry room studded with purple gumdrops and an enormous, lavish bed draped in curtains in the center.
Mom and Dad pushed their way inside. Guster paused at the threshold. He didn’t want to go in, not after the guard had explained how badly Princess Sunday was wounded in the battle.
Princess Sunday was royalty. She was splendid and marvelous in everything she did. She was permanent. She was forever. Nothing could happen to her. It just couldn’t.
Mariah nudged Guster from behind. He crossed through the door frame, his feet heavy as he took his side by Mom and Dad at her bed.
Princess Sunday was propped up on a set of marshmallow pillows, her golden hair spread out like a waterfall.
She looked so peaceful, like she was sleeping. Her face had been cleaned. Her eyes were closed, and she looked so peaceful, like she’d been lying there for years.
“Princess,” Guster whispered, “the city is safe now. The man who was causing the quakes is gone.” She wouldn’t know who Palatus was. But he had to tell her the city was no longer in danger.
Her eyes fluttered open. Then she closed them again. “Thank you Guster,” she whispered.
Her mouth curved up at the edges in a weak smile, like she was keeping a secret from them.
She did not open her eyes again.
Guster squeezed his eyes shut hard, but that didn’t stop the tears from coming.
***
The entire city joined the procession that marched slowly through the butterscotch streets behind the coach that carried Princess Sunday to her final resting place.
There were thousands of men, women, and children from both the Chocolate Crescent and the Fruitful Streets, all shoulder to shoulder as one.
The coach entered the castle, where the guards drew up the bridge and left the people outside to mourn. Then, in secret, Guster led them up the winding path toward the hidden cave from which the source of El Elado’s pure ice cream flowed.
Outside of its entrance, on a small cliff overlooking the city made of opaque white ice, they laid Princesa Elenora Domingo of the City of El Elado to rest, forever frozen above the precious city that she had ruled with wisdom.
Guster peered down at the crowds outside the castle gates. “They loved her. Even the ones from the Chocolate Crescent,” he said to Mom.
“There is a new feeling in this city,” she said, huddling into her baby-blue parka. “I think you are a part of that, Guster.”
Dad hitched up his pants around his belly button. “Guster, I’m glad you did what you did back there on the castle walls,” he said. “Your mom and I talked about it. You knew something that we didn’t. We think you made the right choice.”
He’d run away from home; he’d broken so many rules. “Does that mean I can go to camp when we get back?” he asked.
Mom’s bun bobbed as she shook her head. “Oh, no. That’s going to have to wait until next year. You’re still grounded until then.” He could tell she meant business, but she still hugged him.
***
In the late afternoon Guster stood atop a broken section of the castle wall. Zeke and Mariah were with him. Two out of three Casa Industries helicopters were parked outside the drawbridge, but the third was gone. Felicity Casa and her mercenaries were nowhere to be found.
Guster needed time to think. There was so much to absorb after everything that happened there.
The haze and smoke from the battle still lingered in the thin mountain air. Through it, Guster could make out a place where the aqueduct had broken, its ice cream masonry shattered by cannon fire and blown outward like a broken artery.
Glistening red strawberry sauce pumped out the side, flowing in spurts, tumbling down in a strawberry waterfall and splashing onto the butterscotch streets. It pooled there and then gurgled its way down the sloped street, branching into crimson, shining fingers that flowed across the hard candy cobblestone and over the bank into the Chocolate River.
Guster was drawn to the river. He peered out of over the castle ramparts. It was such an accidental combination. What if the flavors blended wrong? What if the ratios were off? It was a disaster waiting to happen.
But the strawberry didn’t disappear like he thought it would. Instead, it swirled and wound, spiraling into little whirlpools that danced downstream in the chocolate. They formed a perfect tapestry of red and brown.
A little girl, no more than five years old, saw what had happened and turned toward the bank. She bent on one knee, then pulled a tiny ladle from her pocket and dipped it into the river.
People stopped to stare. Shocked at first, then curious, they stopped to watch.
She brought the ladle to her lips and sipped.
The crowd on the river banks grew, staring and whispering to one another as if unsure of what they’d seen.
Then the little girl turned, her face beaming like a tiny sun. “Delicious!” she said in a voice so clear Guster could hear it way up on the castle ramparts. “It’s so delicious!”
There was a murmur of excitement. Two more children dipped their spoons into the new river and tasted its chocolate-strawberry swirls. Then the grownups followed, until the entire riverbank on both sides was lined with the men, women and children of El Elado dipping their spoons—once each—into the flow to taste a flavor they had never known.
At last. Strawberry and chocolate together. It was complete. El Elado could hardly be the same.
Zeke and Mariah climbed to the ramparts and stood by Guster.
“Woah,” said Zeke, staring over Guster’s shoulder at the strawberry-chocolate confluence below. “Just think, now they can have strawberry with chocolate chunks, and fudge blueberry, and cherry chocolate cheesecake. And peanut butter and chocolate!” He put one arm around each of Guster and Mariah’s shoulders, and sighed. “Peanut-peach-chocolate-apple-caramel-butterscotch cookie crumble berry. I’ve got so many plans for this town.”
Mariah looked crossways at him. “I’m pretty sure you just made that up, Zeke,” she said. She was smirking just a little, and Guster was almost certain she was trying not to show how amused she really was.
But Zeke was right about one thing: El Elado was free now. It had been held back for too long by its barriers. Now those were gone.
Guster could only imagine what new, groundbreaking desserts might come out of the city in the years to come. It was a new day for the Delicious City. A renaissance of taste.
The Chancellor mounted the rampart behind them, his green and yellow robes flowing in the breeze. Gaucho and two of Princess Sunday’s guards were with him. The Chancellor held Princess Sunday’s scepter in both hands.
“Guster Johnsonville,” said the Chancellor, clearing his throat and standing beside Guster. The guards snapped to attention. “As you know, we don’t put much stock in sons and daughters here in El Elado. Perhaps that will change soon. But that means we don’t have royal bloodlines either. Our royalty is appointed here according to a chain of promotion within the ranks.”
The Chancellor straightened his robes. “The Culinary has debated long about this and has come to the conclusion that, seeing as all those whose positions were next in line for the throne have either been imprisoned for crimes against the City or fled, it seems only appropriate in this circumstance to offer you, by the authority invested in us, to be crowned Prince Guster Johnsonville of El Elado, and ruler of the Delicious City.” He offered the scepter to Guster with both hands.
Guster could not believe his ears. He turned to look into the Chancellor’s eyes. They were sincere.
“Me? The Prince of El Elado?” asked Guster.
“Yes,” said the Chancellor. “We need a ruler now. You’re new here, but after everything you’ve done, I can’t think of anyone more qualified for the job.”
Guster looked over the grand, majestic city. It was the city of his dreams. He could do so much. He could help them rebuild.
Mom and Dad were loading their things into one of the choppers. Henry Junior was back at home with Braxton. Mariah and Zeke couldn’t stay here forever.
“This could all be yours,” said the Chancellor, sweeping his hand over the city with its ice cream shining golden in the sun.
Ruling El Elado sounded nice. It really did. But Guster had other places to go. There were things to do. “It’s an honor sir,” he said. “But I’m needed at home.”
The Chancellor bowed to Guster. “Very good sir. I won’t say that I’m not disappointed for us, but I will say that I understand. It’s been an honor to have you in our ranks.”
Guster returned the bow.
“You know what that means then, Gaucho del Pantaloon,” said the Chancellor.
Gaucho’s eyes grew wide with amazement. He pressed his knuckles to his mouth. “Did I ever mention to you that I am the Protector of the Yummies, Guster Johnsonville? Yesterday, I was sixteenth in line for the throne. But as of this minute, I am number one!”
He let out a high-pitched, quiet scream of joy. “Tomorrow, I will be crowned prince of El Elado.”
The Chancellor handed the scepter to Gaucho. Gaucho took it.
Suddenly, the little conquistador stood taller, his arms straight at his sides, his mouth drawn into a determined line, Princess Sunday’s scepter in his right hand.
The two guards kneeled. “Your Majesty,” they said.
. The Culinary had arrested the Mayor. He was in jail. The Baconists had fled the city. Now it was Gaucho del Pantaloon’s chance to set things right.
Gaucho had a good heart, and he cared for El Elado with such a deep devotion. With the right friends to help him, he could lead El Elado to a bright and delicious future.
“Then the Delicious City is in good hands,” said Guster. He bowed, dipping his head low to Prince Gaucho del Pantaloon. “I wish you well. May wonderful tastes always find you.”
“And you, Guster Johnsonville,” said Gaucho, bowing back.
The deep thumping of the third helicopter’s blades beat the air outside the castle walls. The time had come. Guster, Mariah, and Zeke descended the steps and crossed the drawbridge. Mom and Dad were waiting there for Felicity’s helicopter to touch down.
The blades twisted slowly to a stop, and the whirlwind subsided until they could hear each other speak again.
“You went ahead and did it, didn’t you?” asked Guster as the side door of the chopper slid open and Felicity stepped out.
“We can’t leave an artifact of such culinary significance up here to rot in these mountains,” she said. The enormous Shield of Seasons lay on the floor of the chopper, wrapped with thick padding and secured with wide, yellow ratchet straps.
Felicity and her mercenaries had the manpower and the will to move it. They weren’t asking for Guster’s approval. Even if he’d wanted to, he couldn’t have stopped them.
He lifted the padded cover. The shield had softened slightly next to the heat of the choppers engines. It was soft to his touch. “The cold cave kept it frozen,” said Guster.
Felicity smiled. “That’s right. It’s not made of stone at all,” she said.
Guster sniffed it. Cookie dough. It was a giant sugar cookie, all rolled out and stamped with inscriptions, then frozen to keep it preserved.
“It’s never been baked,” said Felicity. She caressed it with one finger. “Leaves me to wonder.” She looked at Guster. “You do realize this is just the first clue in a mystery of much larger significance?”
Guster opened his mouth to reply, but no words came. He did not know what the Shield of Seasons was meant for. Only that it was likely something Archedentus wanted him to find, and that the symbols carved there had to have some kind of significance. Beyond that, he realized, he was woefully ignorant. It might as well have been a slab of Egyptian Hieroglyphs.
“Guster, this shield fits into a picture larger than any of us had realized or even suspected. The Gastronomy of Peace was just the catalyst to open up this world. It’s what brought you here after all.” Felicity said. “What else remains to be found? Can’t you see it? There’s more for us to do. We need you.” Her perfectly mascaraed eyes were intense but pleading.
Guster considered this. “Then the shield stays with us,” he said. “I want it in our barn, where Mariah, Mom, and I can decipher it.” He was sure about this much: he couldn’t let it out of his sight.
Felicity’s face turned calm and cool. “Very well,” she said. “So it will be.”
She turned to the waiting chopper and twirled one finger in the air. “Rev ‘em up boys!” she shouted. “Let’s get this payload back to Home Sweet Home.”
The pilots started the engines, and the rotors churned slowly until they picked up speed. The Lieutenant helped Mom, Dad, Guster, Mariah, and Zeke aboard. Guster gripped the metal handholds on the chopper wall tightly and looked out over the Delicious City as they lifted off the ground and rose into the air.
It was a good place, El Elado. As the chopper flew away, Guster could see the walls, the strawberry fields, and the butterscotch streets shining and glistening like gold in the sun. The City of Gold. The City of Taste. A place where legends were true.
Guster settled back into his seat with Mom on one side and Dad on the other. Mariah and Zeke sat across from him. There was another place that he longed for now, and it wouldn’t be long until they got there—home, with the familiar smells of fields and woods and Mom’s kitchen, all just waiting for him to return.
He could almost taste it.
If you love
Evertaster: The Delicious City,
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