The Potion Diaries (6 page)

CHAPTER EIGHT

Princess Evelyn

S
HE’S OVER THERE, BY THE MIRROR. I CAN just about spy her out of the corner of my eye. My god, she is so beautiful. I should go over to her. I should say hello.

The truth was, she felt paralysed with doubt.

I wish I was as bold as her
. She decided to risk another glance, and she turned her head slowly, ever so slowly, over her shoulder.
Oh! She’s looking directly at me.
Her eyes met the other girl’s but she dropped them quickly.
Breathe, Evelyn.
Her breath came and went in deep waves, and she felt her cheeks fill with heat. She couldn’t remember if blushing made her look more beautiful or just odd, so she didn’t want to risk turning around again.

Frankly, Evelyn couldn’t quite believe the girl had the nerve to follow her here, into her private chambers. She should go over there and confront her, but she was nervous. Evelyn scolded herself. A Novaen princess should not be such a coward.

She spun around, taming stray strands of her hair. Then she swallowed, and looked up at the beautiful stranger. ‘What is your name?’

What is your name
?, the girl replied.

‘Evelyn.’

Evelyn.

‘Truly?’

Truly.

That was it, then. It was fate. Somehow, they shared the same name. She could see the truth of it written on the girl’s face – this was no joke. The two of them, the same, one half of the other. But it would not do for them both to be called Evelyn. ‘I will be Eve, and you Lyn.’

I will be Eve, and you Lyn.

Ah, the girl was simply being amusing. Eve could see the twinkle in Lyn’s eye. It was fine; she could see they understood each other.

She had never felt so connected to someone before in her life. She could hardly believe that only a few hours ago, she had almost made a hideous mistake. There had been so much pressure for her to choose a partner – pressure from her parents, pressure from her magic – that she had plotted to potion Zain. He was all right, but he was so butch, so
male
compared to the exquisiteness that stood before her. Thank goodness Lyn had caught her eye at the last moment.

Eve had always known that it was her duty to make sure she handled her power responsibly. She could hardly complain about her privilege, but the thought of being with someone that she didn’t love for all of eternity had terrified her into desperate measures. Her parents didn’t love each other, not at first and not now. Eve knew they were always off dallying with other members of the court – the intrigue kept the gossip columns in business. Her mother had readily agreed to the marriage though, for the power and a lifetime of the very best of everything.

It was rare for any Royal to be as lucky as Eve.

She had found her true love, and just in the nick of time.
Lyn.
They could marry soon. Preparations for a wedding had been in the Royal family’s press book since she was sixteen; they could pull it out in a month if they wanted to.

The media would love and loathe that. It would give them a month’s worth of blanket coverage, but they’d have less time to speculate over her dress, the colour scheme, the music . . . there was nothing like a Royal wedding to spark a media storm. And one with
two
beautiful brides? It would be a frenzy! An enormous celebration. Street parties and teacups printed with their faces and photographs in all the magazines. It thrilled her to think about it.

She had to get planning! No high street dress would do this time, she needed a top designer. She wondered if House of Perrod would be free. Who was she kidding? They would drop everything for her . . .

Voices interrupted her reverie. ‘What are we going to do, Ander?’ It was her mother’s shrill voice. Eve could sense her over on the far side of the room, pacing in a circle, her high heels tapping on the floor. It was strange to have her there, but then Eve remembered – they must have come to meet Lyn. Of course they would need to meet her before they announced an engagement! She couldn’t remember her mother ever caring about her in a way that felt maternal – nannies and Royal advisors had raised her. But she could imagine her parents caring about who she married. They would be so relieved.

Her father was in the room too, and he sat in the throne he brought with him from place to place.

‘We can’t
do
anything,’ came her father’s reply. ‘The Hunt has been called.’

‘But you’re the King. Surely you can stop this? How can we trust those quacks to come up with the cure for our daughter when
she
is involved! Your vile sister Emi—’

‘DON’T say her name in this Palace,’ the King fumed. ‘You can’t be sure . . .’ He paused, and then whispered, ‘That you won’t be calling her presence right into this room.’ There was only one name that could fill her father’s voice with such fear. Her aunt, the exiled Emilia Thoth. At eighteen, she left the Palace, allegedly to go to university in Gergon. Instead, at twenty-one she staged a coup to steal the crown – an attempt that ended with her official exile from Nova.

Emilia didn’t believe in the contract that bound the Royal family’s power to Nova’s elected government. The agreement turned them into figureheads, held in the utmost regard but unable to exploit their full capacity for magic. The result was peace and democracy for the country. It worked perfectly.

Only Emilia and her power hungry followers didn’t think so. The whispered rumours said she still lived in Gergon, where a royal family ruled with fists made iron by magic. Gergon never verified claims that they harboured Emilia – to do so would be tantamount to starting a war – but it wasn’t hard to guess that they’d want her there, in their back pocket, in case anything went wrong in Nova.

Because the one thing the King and Queen couldn’t get away from was that Emilia was next in line if anything happened to Eve.

‘We’ve sent a team of agents after her through the Summons,’ continued the King. ‘We’ll find her and stop her before anything can happen to Evelyn.’

‘You don’t know that! And what of the other Participants? They’re all at risk now.’

‘Someone will just have to cure Evelyn before she causes too much damage and then Emilia will be banished back to wherever she came from. The Participants know the dangers when they sign up.’

‘Ha! Do you think they’re prepared for dangers like your sister? She will stop at
nothing
to eliminate the competition
.
’

Her father squirmed in his throne. ‘There are ten Participants competing against her – and still others that haven’t joined yet. Besides, Zol will win.’

‘He had better. Where is that man, anyway? I need to talk to him about his wretched son.’

As if her mother’s voice had Summoned him, a door appeared in the stone wall and Zol and Renel strode in. Eve rolled her eyes – seeing Zol made her think of Zain. How glad she was that the potion hadn’t worked. Now he was free to find love too. The locket had been empty, so she must never have completed the mix in the first place. Or did she have a change of heart and dump the contents? It was so hard to remember. Her brain felt fuzzy, events rubbed off her memory like chalk from a blackboard. But then she lifted her eyes to meet Lyn’s and instantly felt her worries melt away.

‘We have a lead on the first ingredient for the Hunt,’ said Zol.

‘There’s a Hunt?’ At this, Eve perked up. ‘That’s exciting. But there is no one here in mortal danger . . . What are they looking for? I do hope it’s a good luck potion for my marriage – that would just be wonderful.’

Zol looked at her in such slack-jawed wonderment that Eve laughed. She didn’t think she had ever seen Zain’s dad look so uncomfortable in her presence. ‘Your marriage, Princess?’ he asked.

‘Oh, silly me. I haven’t even told my parents yet! Mum . . . Dad . . . I want you to meet someone. This is Lyn.’ She gestured to her love, who stood frozen still. ‘You should curtsy,’ she whispered to Lyn. When she still didn’t move, Eve laughed. ‘Of course, you don’t know how! Please don’t take offence, mother, she’s new to all this Royal nonsense. I’ll show you, Lyn, it’s easy.’ Eve curtsied in the mirror, and to her delight Lyn did the same. ‘Oh, that was perfect! Don’t you just love her?’ she said to her parents. ‘We want to marry as soon as possible!’

They all stared at her, not saying a word, but she shrugged and turned her attention back to Lyn. Her parents would come around in time.

‘If you had controlled your son, this would never have happened in the first place!’ the Queen hissed.

‘Oh don’t worry, I will be speaking with him,’ said Zol, his voice dark with anger. ‘And we will be the ones to find the cure, mark my words. As I said, I already have a team in place tracking down the first ingredient and researching the rest of the mix.’

Eve sighed. It was clear that all this adult talk was boring Lyn. That just wouldn’t do. ‘So, when am I going to the party?’ Eve said, her bright voice cutting through all the tension.

All eyes turned to her. ‘I have my big announcement to make. Set up a television interview. I want nationwide coverage. Oh, and get a photographer for our official portrait. I want to introduce Lyn to the entire world!’

CHAPTER NINE

Samantha

G
RANDAD AND I SIT SIDE-BY-SIDE ON the tram ride home. We left without joining the Hunt and were escorted through the Palace, ending up in the courtyard of the castle at the top of Kingstown, which was empty following the cancellation of Evelyn’s concert. I guess there is a connection between the two buildings, after all.

Despite my grandad’s stubborn refusal to join the Hunt, my head spins with everything I know about love potions. There are endless myths surrounding them – it’s going to be hard for the Participants to separate the truth from fact. But even though they were banned before his time, I’m positive that somewhere in our store there is a lead on the original recipe. Who knows, maybe the recipe itself is actually stashed away somewhere, amidst the hundreds of books and the significant archive of Kemi alchemist grimoires – or potion diaries, as we call them now. This could be what the Kemi family has been waiting for – the chance to bring back honour to the traditional alchemists, the first potion-makers. And if it brings a little glory too, what’s the harm in that?

I bring up the Hunt again but Grandad waves his hands at me and tells me to shush. He mumbles something about the ‘audacity of Royals’.

‘They think they can just drag me up to their Palace, without even a word of apology for the interruption. Three mixes, ruined. I’ll have to start all over. And I bet they won’t reimburse us for that time either.’

‘Grandad, this is the
Princess.
Of course they think she’s more important than our mixes. Is it because of Emilia that you don’t want us to compete?’

‘I’m not scared of some Royal pretender.’

‘Then what is it?’

He harrumphs and buries his nose in an old newspaper he finds on the seat. I give up until we reach the Kemi Street stop.

Our home is at the back of the store, so we walk past the front door and down a narrow alley, dodging the overflowing rubbish bins that are ready for pick-up. We enter straight into the kitchen, where Mum is dishing up a plate of fried rice and belly pork for Molly. Dad stands by the sink, his arms crossed in front him, eyes fixed on the back door.

‘You’re back!’ shouts Molly. She jumps up from her seat and wraps her arms around my waist.

Grandad steps past me and continues in his slow, unhurried way, as if he hasn’t just been called to participate in a Wilde Hunt. He ignores the rest of the family’s curious faces and heads straight into his lab, shutting the door behind him. My parents don’t look too concerned – they’re used to his surly moods, and they know they’ll get more information out of me anyway.

‘Sarah’s mum sent me straight home as soon as we found out the concert was cancelled,’ Molly says. ‘I don’t understand – why would the Princess not want to have her party?’

I stroke her hair. ‘I’m sorry, Mols, I know you’ve been looking forward to the concert for ages. But I do know why the Princess cancelled her party. It’s why Grandad and I were Summoned to the Palace.’