The Eden Series: The Complete Collection (2 page)

“I’m afraid it doesn’t look good, my lord,” he replied candidly. “We believe that he only holds on so that he may see you and Callum before he passes.” His words hit the prince hard, causing him to brace a hand on the wall.

“I don’t understand,” he said quietly, shaking his head back and forth. “The doctors all said his heart was getting better.”

“Your father is in his eighties, my lord,” he explained. “His life has been long and lived to its fullest, but we cannot last forever.” His words sounded empty even to his ears.

“What comfort is that to me now?” Jameson spat back. “Where the hell is my brother?”

“Perhaps you should sit down, my lord, before going in to see the King,” he suggested. The stench of alcohol was overwhelming, and he could see Jameson’s anger increasing due to his obvious intoxication.

Brushing off his offered hand, Jameson began to pace the hallway outside his father’s room. “I don’t need to sit down, you old bat. I want to go in and see my father. Where the hell is Callum?”

“We’re still looking for him,” he explained. “We hope to expect him soon.”

“You hope to
expect
him?” The prince stopped his pacing and turned in anger. “You either expect him, or you hope someone will
find
him. Which is it?”

Alistair cleared his throat slightly. “We hope—we pray—someone will find him shortly.”

“So you have no idea when, or if, he will be here.” It was not said as a question, but rather a statement, or more as an accusation. “I’m going in, then.”

Callum entered the silent chamber. His brother sat holding their father’s hand; the King lay with his eyes closed. His heart leaped as he entered, mistaking his father for already having passed, but as he moved forward the small grey eyes opened and immediately found him. Hot tears filled his eyes, running down his cold cheeks. Quickly wiping them away, he walked over to the opposite side of the bed and held his father’s other hand. Looking over him, he met Jameson’s eyes. His brother was visibly shaken with grief, as well as visibly drunk. He would have expected nothing else from him. As light and carefree as Jameson was, Callum was the complete opposite. Even his looks were the opposite of angelic Jameson’s. He had shoulder-length dark hair and deep brown eyes. A dark beard covered the lower half of his face, making him appear older than his brother.

“My sons,” the King said in a quiet, raspy voice.

“We’re both here now, Father,” Callum immediately responded. “Be strong; we are with you.”

“My strength has long escaped me, my son. I’m afraid my time amongst you has ended.”

“Don’t say that,” Jameson choked. “This is just a spell—”

“It is not,” he interrupted. “You must accept what life has dealt us.” Both boys remained silent as their father struggled for more breath. “Before I leave you, I must settle the subject of my successor.” Callum saw the High Priest and Chancellor move closer, in order to hear his words better. It was imperative that the words said next be written down correctly. Many wars had been waged over the words of dying men. “Callum, my youngest,”—he turned his head slowly toward him—“you have been my right-hand man since the day you could speak. I cannot express to you the magnitude of my love for you. It saddens me greatly to see any morsel of disappointment in your eyes, but I must choose the right path.”

Callum’s body stiffened at his father’s words. Every man in the room seemed to look to one another in shock. Was his father saying what they all understood? “Father, you cannot mean …” he blurted out.

Turning his head, the King looked at his brother. “Jameson, you are to take the crown when I am gone. I give to you the land of Eden, and all the responsibility of being High King that comes with it. You have never been responsible a day in your life, and each day I have been faced with trials by you. I am trusting you, here on my deathbed, to accept this great honour and make me proud. Promise me you will be as great of a King as I know you can be.”

“Father,” Jameson spoke quietly, “I can’t do this.” His voice pleaded as he continued to hold their father’s limp hand.

“You must. It is your birthright. You have the allegiance of the King’s men, and the people of this city love you. All you must do now is show them why they love you so. Prove to them you’re not just the carefree prince they all know, but also a great leader who will rule them fairly.”

“This is foolish!” Callum barked, standing up beside his passing father. “Someone talk some sense into this man! Obviously his sickness is affecting his reasoning.” He looked around at the others with wild eyes. “Chancellor, surely you cannot agree with this decision!”

The Chancellor looked on warily. “It is not my decision to make, my lord,” he responded.

“Alistair?” He turned toward the High Priest.

“Callum,” he replied, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Your father only has what’s best for his people in mind. We must all support him in this decision.” Callum knew the High Priest did not agree with the High King, but he wouldn’t dare speak it out loud. An act like that would be high treason in these lands. Callum felt completely lost for the first time in his life. All who stood there remained silent, watching as Callum slowly fell to pieces.

“Callum—” his father began.

“Don’t!” He held up a hand. “I’ve heard enough from you this evening, Father. If you want to put this man-child in charge, then by all means do so. It will be the end of all that we’ve known.” Callum turned around and stormed out of the chamber, leaving the audience there assuredly shocked and appalled.

“How dare he,” Jameson spat, getting up to follow his brother. As he entered the outside hall, he could see his brother’s form retreating down the spiral staircase. “Callum, stop!”

His brother paused on the step, looking up over his shoulder. “Already giving orders, brother?” he said bitterly.

“Our father is on his deathbed, and you have the audacity to walk away from him? Get back here now, and stay by his side until the end.”

“Why should I? I’ve been by his side every minute of every day, and look where it’s gotten me! I refuse to stand by him any longer, when he has so clearly decided to
not
return the favour.” Callum continued to descend the stairs into the great hall. Jameson wouldn’t have it. Running down the stairs, taking two steps at a time, he reached Callum right as he opened the wooden doors. The rain outside was pouring down harder now, making it almost impossible to see outside clearly.

“I forbid you to leave!” he said through clenched teeth. The guards stationed on either side of the door looked nervous when he glanced in their direction. Neither would be prepared to break up a fight between the crown princes. They also happened to be his friends.

“What are you going to do to stop me?” They met each other, their faces only inches away from one another.

“If you leave now, don’t expect to be welcomed back.”

“Who said anything about coming back?”

There was a loud sound outside in the courtyard, causing both of them and the guards to peer out into the rain. A large black horse was stomping the ground in impatience. Jameson had never seen such a beast. He realized then that two other horses were there as well, their breath causing smoke to fill the air. The riders who sat upon them wore dark cloaks, covering their identities.

“What is this?” he asked, turning back to face Callum. As he spoke, the Chancellor and High Priest reached them. Both, he saw, immediately noticed the waiting guests.

“It appears to be my new family.” Callum smiled bitterly. “Brother.” He turned on his heels and marched out the palace doors, jumping onto the empty horse in one fluid motion. Jameson and the others walked to the entrance, squinting to make out his companions. The man who sat on the largest horse threw back his hood, revealing a red beard and dark brown eyes. All three of them froze, each realizing who Callum’s friend was. What was he doing here? How had he arrived so quickly? The news of their father’s illness had been announced only that day.

“Have a nice life, High King.” Callum pulled his hood up over his face and turned his horse to retreat over the bridge. As the others followed, the third man glanced over at Jameson, nodding his head in a salute. The prince realized who he was at the last second—Aziz, the most feared sorcerer from the east. Three men, from three very different parts of Eden. It didn’t make sense. What Jameson did know for certain was that whatever it meant, it could not be good.

Suddenly the mourning bells began to ring over their heads. It was over.

CHAPTER ONE

Fourth period was ending. Aiden knew Ms. Whitiker was absent that day, so he decided on skipping fifth. It had been a long and traumatic day, and an early ending would be fitting. The morning had begun terribly with his arriving late, due to his father’s old rust-covered Ford—that he refused to get rid of—breaking down, and continued with Mr. Beck yelling at him in front of the whole class. Normally, that wouldn’t have bothered him, but Melissa happened to be in that class, making the embarrassment almost unbearable. If he had the courage to turn around and leave again, he would have. Unfortunately, he quickly walked to his seat with his head down, banging his hip on the edge of someone’s desk, almost causing him to fall on his face. Ignoring the snickers, Aiden sat down and tried to make it through first period.

If that hadn’t been the worst, the rest of the day continued to spiral downward. He had forgotten about a test in chemistry, resulting in a probable fail. Lunch was painful, since the boys from grade twelve suddenly noticed him amongst the crowd, and decided it would be fun to taunt him while he ate. Melissa just happened to be sitting with them. She was dating Bentley—who names their son Bentley? As if he didn’t already think he was better than everyone else, they had to go and name him something like that.

Fourth period had gone relatively well, although it seemed to drag on, and all Aiden could think of was how much he wanted to climb into his bed and never leave it again. Maybe he could claim he was holding a peace protest and stay in bed for a week. Nah, his parents would never go for that. He could always pretend to be sick, he thought sensibly. The bell suddenly rang, and multiple chairs scraped the floors as the students rushed out to their next period. Aiden slowly got up and dragged his feet to his locker.

“Aiden!” someone yelled out. He turned to see Ethan speed-walking toward him.

“What’s up?” he called back in reply.

“What are you packing your bag for? Aren’t you going to fifth?” Ethan raised his eyebrows in question.

“Nah, I’m just going to head home. It’s a substitute teacher, so I figured I could miss a day.”

“Awesome! Where are we going?” He smiled.

“We?”

“Well, if you’re not going to class, neither am I. We can go for a walk to get pizza, or head over to the park!”

“The park?” Aiden slammed his locker shut. “Ethan, you know the park is where all the popular kids go when they’re skipping school. I don’t really think we’d be welcome there.”

“Aw, come on, Aid. How will we ever get
in
, if we don’t at least try?” he whined.

“You can’t just try to get ‘in,’ Ethan,” he replied, applying quotations around the word
in
with his fingers. “You’re either cool, or you’re not, and unfortunately in our case, we’re not.”

“You suck. What are you going to do then?”

“Go home and sleep.” He started to walk down the stairs toward the front foyer. Ethan followed closely behind.

“Does all this melodramatic behaviour have anything to do with Bentley Ross throwing his pizza in your hair at lunch?”

Aiden stopped on the last step, causing a small niner to run right into him. He mumbled an apology while the girl rushed around him with a red face. “Where did you hear about that?” he asked angrily.

“Everyone heard about that, bud,” he replied, looking apologetic. Clenching his teeth, Aiden dropped the subject and continued out the doors to the bus stop. “So is that a yes?”

“Look, I’m just tired, and I want to go home. I’ll give you a call tomorrow morning when I’m on my way to grab you.”

Thankfully, Ethan didn’t say another word. Waving goodbye, he turned back and headed toward the portable area. Aiden sat on the bench outside, cursing his life. The bus arrived after five minutes, the doors opening like the doors to heaven. It would take him home, away from the torture that was high school.
Life has to get better than it is now,
he thought wistfully. High school was only four years of his life, but at this rate it seemed like it would last forever. When the year began, he had thought it would get mildly better. He wasn’t in grade nine anymore, but ten didn’t seem to be improving at all.

The first hurdle he had to overcome was his voice. Last year it had been in the midst of changing, and every squeak caused him an immense amount of embarrassment. Over the summer it had finally settled down, and now he had a nice smooth voice. He had grown a bit, though he didn’t gain an ounce of weight, even though he had tried all summer long. Against his mother’s instructions, he had tried drinking protein shakes to put on some pounds, but his overactive metabolism refused to be slowed down. Now he was just tall and lanky, which wasn’t very attractive to the girls in his school. His hair was a dark blond, and his eyes were a light shade of green, but were hidden by his thick-rimmed glasses.

In grade nine he had dated a girl named Alicia, but that didn’t last long, and since then there had been no others. He might be tall, and slightly underweight, but he didn’t think his face was necessarily ugly. He had a strong, square jaw, and a narrow, straight nose. He styled his hair in the way all the other guys did, messy but styled, and yet no one seemed to notice him. That was his problem: he simply blended into the background. There was nothing that made him stand out in a crowd, nothing that made him special. It was aggravating, and increasingly depressing.

He pulled the cord, and the bus came to a halt not far down the street from his house. He walked up the stone path to the large, black, wooden front door. His parents had just bought the place the summer before high school started. He had grown up in Toronto, close to all that the city had to offer, and surrounded by all his friends. Then one day his parents decided they wanted to move outside of the city to a smaller town, where it would be ideal to raise a small child. His mother, now thirty-six, had found out she was expecting again, something no one had foreseen. Eddie had been a complete surprise to them all, and was the real reason his life had been turned upside down. There was always a slight feeling of bitterness when he reflected on his life, but he couldn’t really blame the little thing. She was too cute for him to really blame her. She was about a year and a half now, and already a walking, drooling, sticky monster.