Cogling (42 page)

I never have before.

ke was the King’s son. He’d kept that from her, never trusting her with such a powerful truth.

“Feigning a relationship to the King is treachery,” Rachel hissed. “We’ll be thrown in the dungeon.”

Edna glanced at the others; Harrison kicked at the ground and Rachel’s left eye twitched. Rachel thought Ike was joshing? He might have been a honed liar, but his demeanor belied the words.

The tall guardsmen laughed, but Ike didn’t shrink away. Rachel groaned.

“Ask one of your superiors.” Ike’s voice adopted a stiff, formal air. “They will confirm my claim.”

The first guardsman kept laughing, but the other headed to the gatehouse, snickering. Over his shoulder, he called, “‘Tis treason to make a claim like that.”

Edna hugged herself, shivering as her skin crawled. The country didn’t boast of Ike—he had to be a secret son.

The second guard returned with an older man, wearing the same uniform. When they reached them, the older man bowed to Ike. “Isaac Eliasson,” he said, “I welcome you home. I will escort you to your father.”

The first guard squawked, “He was telling the truth?”

“What?” Rachel exclaimed.

Ike pressed his lips into a thin white line, his gaze cold.

The elder glared at the guard. “Open the gates for Isaac Eliasson.”

Edna clutched her prayer beads.

“Did you spell him?” Rachel hissed in Ike’s ear. “That would be worse than pretending to be the King’s son.”

“My companions as well,” Ike said without looking at her or Edna.

“Of course.” The elderly guard bowed once more and flipped a lever on the fence. The gates swung open. People huddled in the street to watch, whispering and pointing, their voices a low murmur.

The elderly guard led them down a wide road of cobblestones lined with potted plants. Behind them the gate shut with a clunk. Ice crept over Edna’s body as fate sealed them inside.

She wondered if Harrison would say anything, but he kept quiet, walking at her side, his wide eyes scanning the lawns. Robotic gardeners trimmed flowering bushes around a cherub fountain. Chickadees sang from magnolia trees. The peacefulness weighed against her heart like lead. Despite the beauty, she and her companions stepped into a prison, following Ike to a chopping block.

“How do you fare, Isaac Eliasson?” the guard asked.

Ike inclined his head. “Well enough.”

“Your mother?”

“She passed away,” Ike said. “She’s been missed.”

Edna clutched the cameo. The guard couldn’t really be asking about Ike’s hag mother. It would mean… Ike told the truth about his father. Her skin crawled. It felt like a ruse.

The guard bowed his head. “My apologies. It saddens me to hear that. Did you inform the King?”

Ike stiffened. “I didn’t feel it necessary.”

A vein leapt in the guard’s throat. Edna had the feeling the older man wanted to reprimand Ike before thinking better of it. The guards couldn’t possibly believe Ike’s claim.

They ascended the stone steps to the gilded double doors. Two robotic servants waiting outside opened the doors for them to enter.

Edna gawked as she entered Langston Palace. Goose bumps popped out across her skin and breath lodged in her throat at the majestic wonder. The floor of polished marble tiles reflected the lights from a chandelier in the ceiling. Gold paint framed the windows and doors. Tables and vases lined the walls.

Her country’s past kings and queens had once treaded the same hallway she walked; Edna bowed her head.

“Our whole tenement would fit in this foyer,” Harrison exhaled.

“And all that gilt would feed the city for years,” Edna added.

The guard led them through the massive foyer into a hallway of the same elegance, and opened a door. He stepped aside so they could enter first. Velvet loveseats and tables of miniature statues covered the room.

“I will see where your father is and announce your arrival.” The elderly guard bowed at the waist, his white ponytail bobbing against his back, before he shut the door.

Rachel parted the lace curtains to peer through one of the floor-to-ceiling windows. “I never thought a place could look like this.”

Harrison picked up one of the statues. “Who is this?”

“My father.” Ike sat on one of the loveseats, his back stiff. “He has a new statue made every year, to chronicle his age.”

“So you’re the King’s son, but you never told us?” Rachel toyed with her pearl earring.

Ike chuckled. “My mother belonged to one of the original hag families. My father is descended from King Ebel. Mother Sambucus shoved them together and they happened to fall in love.” Bitterness crept into his voice. “My mother couldn’t stand the way others looked down on us. We were hags—no better than servants. The nobles thought we’d risen above our status. Only the guards were kind. My tutors were nice.”

“Servants.” Hilda sat across from them. “All we’re good for. Healing your wonderful kind.”

Harrison stuck his tongue out at her. “You heal your own kind too, and I’m a servant.”

Edna wanted to correct him. He wasn’t a servant anymore, but Edna couldn’t wrap her brain around Ike’s revelation. “So you became a thief instead of coming back here.” Edna nibbled her knuckles, lace catching in her teeth. “All this time, the King’s only son has been my companion.”

Ike shrugged. “Yes.”

“If the humans treated you so terribly, why don’t you want the hags to use their coglings?” Breath snagged in her throat.

He picked a piece of dirt from beneath his thumbnail. “The hags killed my mother. Even though the humans have faults, they aren’t trying to steal dreams. Hags want to replace people. Humans just need to realize there are better ways to rule than keeping tomtar slaves. Coglings won’t help with that.”

“You’re a prince?” Rachel sank to her knees beside him.

Edna stiffened. “You never so much as gave him a second glance when you thought he was a thief.”

“Mother was a hag. I could never be a prince. I’m sure you’ve never heard of me.”

Back home, no one had even whispered that the king had a son.

“Of course you’re the prince. You’re the king’s only child,” Rachel said.

“The throne will go to one of my cousins.” Ike stood. “I don’t want to discuss this.”

The door opened before anyone could respond. A robot maid curtsied in her black gown. “King Elias will see you in his study. Please follow me.”

As they left the room, Ike slipped his hand through Edna’s. She glanced at him, but he didn’t look at her. His eyebrows knit together, forming a crease between them. After a quick squeeze, he released her and kept walking.

She’d touched the King’s son, even kissed him, a young man who’d helped rescue her brother. Her lungs constricted, making her pant. Warmth coiled in her belly, and the evil never stirred.

Ike wasn’t a half-hag or a king’s child. He was her friend. Now that he was back with the King, Ike and Edna could try to convince King Elias to release the tomtars, to outlaw foxkin hunts, to help the poor….

She grinned. Everything would work out. Fate had led her here to better the kingdom.

They wandered down hallway after hallway, where the scent of lilacs lingered in the air. At the bottom of a flight of stairs, the servant opened a door. Edna’s fingers twitched from nerves.

“King Elias, I present your visitors,” the servant said.

Edna followed the others inside the dark room. “Where’s the light?”

“Father?” Ike called.

Gas lamps ignited, showing blue walls with gold edging. Cages the size of closets hung from the ceiling. Men lay against the bars, five to a cage. Hands dangled out, the fingernails white from poor circulation. Their clothes and hair had grayed, their eyes shut with circles underneath.

In the center of the room stood Mother Sambucus, garbed in a black robe with foxkin fur along the edges.

Edna slapped her hand over her mouth as bile rose in her throat. The evil—energy, magic—flared from her heart. “On the seven Saints,” Ike hissed.

Smirking, Mother Sambucus spread her hands. “I would like you to meet King Elias and his nobles.”

When you look in my eyes, what do you see?

ke held out his arms, blocking his companions from the hag’s view. Edna grabbed Harrison, but she yearned to hold Ike close and enter battle. The men in the cages didn’t move or cry out; their heads limp with parted lips.

“Nobles wouldn’t stand for this.” Rachel pointed at the cages. “Those are just coglings.”

Mother Sambucus clapped, beaded bangles jingling on her wrists. “You’re half correct, Lady Rachel. These are the real nobles—enchanted so they cannot make a fuss, of course. The nobles the rest of the kingdom sees are my coglings.” She nodded at Ike. “The King included.”

Edna gasped. The hags had reached higher than Ike had feared.

“Someone will realize it’s not him.” Ike’s voice squeaked. “The people will revolt. The police will stop—”

“You want everyone to rebel against me, don’t you? Us poor hags.” Mother Sambucus clicked her tongue. “You’re one of us even if you don’t want to admit it.”

Ike stepped forward. “Where is my father?”

Mother Sambucus lifted her hand. “Do not interrupt your elders, boy. I see growing up with the wisest tutors didn’t teach you manners.” She sniffed. “I’m so glad my scouts caught your messenger.”