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I REPEAT MY WORDS TO myself. Not while he needs her help.
What is she helping him to do?
Not kill me. She’s been with me plenty of times. If she wanted to kill me she could have.
Take back his throne? Maybe, maybe she untied him and rescued Wolf.
But the rest of the time? Has she been pretending to help me, but falling in love with my brother? If she’s been fed this potion, it’s not her fault.
I know that.
But I still feel sick. I want to cry and cry and cry.
Archer’s ill and Ginata’s betrayed me. What’s next? Who’s next?
I feel like there is a curse upon me and my life.
You can live, Halfreda said. You can rule, she said. You can be Queen.
It sounded so good.
But since that day at the river everything has gone wrong.
Macsen killed our father.
Then he tried to kill me.
Will was attacked.
Lanorie tried to kill herself.
Millard killed Macs.
Addyson was taken to the tower.
Halfreda was killed.
I thought Archer was dead.
Lanorie is dead.
Molly’s probably dead.
Archer might die of this infection.
Ginata’s betrayed me.
Addyson and Della come through from Ginata’s bedroom to her receiving room. Sensing something wrong Addyson comes straight to me and holds me tight.
Della sits down, concern on her face. “What’s happened?”
“Millard’s been drugging Ginata. With some sort of love potion and something else, to make her do what he wants.”
“What?” The horror on their faces is echoed on my own, I’m sure.
“The little maid’s gone to get a bottle of the stuff now. Wolf’s been rescued too. We think Ginata did it.”
“That’s awful. Where is she?”
“We don’t know. She fainted in the kitchen last night so we left her there. She was gone this morning. And so was he.”
“So what, she’s fallen in love with Millard?”
“We think so.” My voice catches as I think about how horrible that is. Love is special and precious and is something you should want to feel, want to give. The fact that my brother has forced this upon someone is further proof of what a monster he is.
“So, she untied him? After Ceryn captured him?”
“We think so, but we’re just guessing.”
“Where’s my brother?” Della asks, just noticing that Finn’s not with them. “I didn’t see him go.”
“He said he was going to the village and then your cottage. Just to check it’s all fine.”
“Thanks, Will, I know I worry too much about him. Sorry, Everleigh, so what’s next?”
“It’s fine. We’re just waiting for the teacher to check what the potion is. If it really is some sort of love potion.”
The door opens and Ceryn, Will and little Daisy step inside the room. Daisy looks at the floor. “I’m sorry.” Her voice is so quiet I barely hear her. I kneel in front of her, take her hands. “Don’t apologise for doing what you were told by the King. You had no choice. Please don’t feel bad or sad.”
The teacher comes out of Ginata’s work room and smiles at Daisy. He holds out his hand for the vials and she passes them to him. “Thank you.”
Addyson gestures to Daisy and she sits with her and Della.
“How d’you tell, then, what sort of potion it is?” Ceryn follows the teacher back to the work room and I follow her. Will lurks behind us.
At the sight of Archer, unconscious on the floor my stomach clenches. I had almost forgotten about him, alone and abandoned on the floor. I whisper that I’m sorry, as I sink down next to him. I hold his hand and it’s not as clammy as it was earlier. I touch his forehead. It’s not as hot. I can only hope that he’s recovering.
“I’ll smell it and taste it, but I’ll know it in this pure form. I was pretty sure when it was diluted with wine. It should be obvious.”
He unscrews the top off the little vial and smells it. “A definite love potion, and...” He smells it again, tips a drop on to his finger, touches his finger to his tongue. “Hmm. I’m not sure...I need...” He turns to the shelf of books, Halfreda’s old books and Ginata’s, an impressive array of volumes, large and small.
“That’s strange.” There’s a large gap between two books. He places his hand there, touching only thin air. “There was a book here last night. I remember looking at it, a thick blue one with black writing on the spine. I used to own the same volume. It would have been useful.”
He tastes both potions. “I cannot put my finger on this one. But that one’s a love potion, no doubt. The only thing I can think of that would be useful is something to make the intended victim more amenable, open to suggestion, if you will, but I don’t recognise the taste, it’s overpowered by the spices.”
“Poor Ginata,” Will says, shaking his head.
“Poor Ginata! She could have killed Everleigh! What if Millard had suggested that? We had a snake in our camp this whole time and we didn’t know?”
“It would have taken a while to work, but yes, I would say, if she’s been drinking this regularly, she’s been under his spell for days.
“And now? If she stops drinking it?”
“Then she’ll go back to normal.”
“He’s so clever.”
“And disgusting. So, what do we do?”
“Try to find them. Rescue her, if she’s with him.”
“Rescue her?” Ceryn is furious and far less understanding than the rest of us.
“Ceryn. She had no choice. She wouldn’t even know. If she’s been drinking this potion she cannot help her feelings or her actions.”
“But-” She throws up her hands and storms out.
Will follows after her.
The teacher hunkers down next to me. “It’s a worry, Everleigh, but at least now we know. We can keep you safe from her, if she comes back and if he plans to kill her, maybe we can find her before that. Archer has to be my priority, though.”
I nod. I wouldn’t want it any other way.
I watch the teacher as he tends to Archer. His wound looks better, still red and sore and angry looking but the tinge of green is gone; the smell is gone. The heat from his skin is almost gone. There’s more colour in his cheeks. I hold onto his hand and close my eyes, my back against the table.
Poor Ginata. I feel so sorry for her. Millard has turned her into a puppet, into an instrument for his desires.
Ceryn doesn’t like her, I can tell. But as much as I like Ceryn, I know she’s a prickly old pear. She wanted to kill me when she first laid eyes on me. And I have no doubt that she would have hurt me if she could have. I know she has a good heart, she’s let me see it, but her and Ginata haven’t really gelled.
But then if Ginata has been under a spell, administered by my evil brother, no wonder they haven’t gelled. Who knows what this potion is doing to her.
“How does a love potion work? How do you stop the person drinking it falling in love with any old body?”
“It’s a funny old magic, a love potion. In theory, you can’t make someone fall in love if they don’t want to, but our hearts and heads are susceptible to much persuasion. If I gave you the potion, as an example, I would spend a lot of time with you, being very nice to you, very kind. I would try to shelter you from my bad points. I would try to keep myself in your mind even if I wasn’t with you – maybe planting something of mine where you sleep or giving you a token of my affection. These things add to the magic of the love potion and make someone fall in love with you.”
I wonder if Millard has given Ginata a token of some kind.
“You couldn’t just give someone a potion and vanish from their life, or mistreat them. Though, with time, if they had taken enough of the potion you would probably find that they were under your thrall without much effort on your part. I suspect that’s what’s happened here. She has been drinking this morning, noon and night for days now.”
“So, even if he’s horrible to her now, it might not change her feelings?”
“It would probably take a big shock to change her heart now.”
My brother is a sick monster; I can see that. I only wish Ginata could see it too. Will knocks softly on the door and pokes his head around. “All good?”
“Will, would you go to Ginata’s bedroom and see if there’s anything in there that belongs to my brother?”
He nods, doesn’t even question me. I love that about Will. He never makes a fuss.
He comes back a few minutes later with two items – a painting of my brother’s likeness in a frame. “This was by the bed,” he says, passing it to me, “and this was under her pillow.”
It’s one of Millard’s shirts. A dirty shirt. Urgh. Ginata must be completely under his spell to think that a worn shirt is a good thing to keep. “Do you think he put it under there or her?”
“He probably left it in here on purpose and she tucked it away. It’ll smell of him, no doubt.”
I refuse to put it anywhere near my nose.
“We need to find her.”
The problem we have is that we don’t know where she is. I take Archer’s hand and he squeezes my fingers. I let out a cry. “He moved!”
“Are you sure?” The teacher comes to Archer’s side.
“Yes.”
He takes Archer’s other hand, looks up at me, excitement shining in his eyes. “He did it to me too. Archer? Archer?”
Archer opens his eyes.