Seek help from MacTavish

As Stewart runs through his list of those who might help, he feels almost paralyzed by fear of betrayal. If one of his own siblings is behind this act of treason, then can anybody be trusted?

He reaches into his pocket, withdraws the vial of liquid and examines it thoughtfully. If anyone would understand what this is, it would be MacTavish, his old teacher and entrusted keeper of the secret royal library. MacTavish had served the royal family since the time of Stewart’s grandfather. He was impossibly old and certainly had magical blood, but his full background was always cloaked in mystery.

Putting the vial back in his pocket, Stewart determined to seek out the old man and hope his trust in him would not be betrayed. After one more look around the office, and after making sure he did not leave any evidence of having been there, he exited the room and made his way toward the turret that housed the library.

The royal library contained not only the official state papers of all previous kings but also books and scrolls concerning magical beings and magic itself. While practicing magic was forbidden for a mortal such as Stewart, as the future king of Mirantia, he was obligated to understand the dynamics of what he might face during his reign. Consequently, upon his 18th birthday, every heir to the throne began a rigorous course of study in the library. For at least the past 100 years, that education has been under the watchful eye of MacTavish.

Stewart reached the top of the stairs of the library turret without incident and knocked on the ancient wooden door. After a few moments, the door opened, and Stewart found himself looking into the puzzled face of his old teacher.

“Your Highness? I did not expect to see you today. Are you not selecting the future queen of our fair land?”

MacTavish steps aside as Stewart enters.

“We have a serious problem, and I need your help, MacTavish.” The prince quickly describes the events of the day. MacTavish listens gravely. His worn, wrinkled, bearded face remains steady, but his eyes flash with anger.”

“Norbier!” he exclaimed, once Stewart finished his tale. “I knew he was ambitious, but I never pegged him for a traitor! Do you have the potion with you?”

Stewart hands him the corked vial, and the old man studies it in the light of the window.

“Elixir of the Metamorphius Pygmy,” he declares. “The poor creatures are on the verge of extinction, and no fewer than 50 of them gave their lives so Norbier could get his hands on these few drops. Is there no end to his treachery?”

MacTavish explains that the potion, when mixed with something from the body of another living thing, can change the appearance and voice of the one who drinks it. “I can’t tell how pure this elixir is,” said MacTavish. “It might last a couple of hours, or it could last half a day. Either way, it is evident that the conspirators planned to take you out of the way immediately.”

Remembering the picture he retrieved from the fireplace, Stewart pulls it out and hands it to MacTavish. “What do you make of this?”

MacTavish studies the picture. “Someone obviously believes a person has been omitted from this painting and sought to correct it. I cannot make out who it is, though. I wonder if....” His voice drops off, thoughtfully.

“What is it, MacTavish?”

The old man shakes his head. “Now is not the time for idle speculation. I will do some work to clean this up so we can better see what the artist intended. In the meantime, we must get word to the king and warn him. You said Dathan is involved? If the Captain of the Royal Guard has his hands in this, then the conspiracy could reach anywhere. We must be on the utmost watchfulness.”

“We must go to Father right now,” decides Stewart.

“I am of no value in a battle, Your Highness,” replied the old man. “What you need right now is stealth and cunning. I will remain here and see what I can learn from this painting. You must get word to His Majesty on your own. But be on guard, my prince. No doubt Dathan has his own men around the king, and at the first sight of you, they will abduct you and replace you with this interloper. You said the imposter was headed to your chambers to await further instructions. Perhaps our best strategy would be to confront him there.”

Stewart considers this. His thoughts again turn to Chantelle, and he wonders if she managed to leave his room in time to avoid being entangled in this insanity.