Blooms of Consequence (Dusk Gate Chronicles - Book Four) Page 18

  Now, though, he realized that Megan really did love Quinn, too. That her behavior before had all come from fear – maybe deep down she’d always known that this day was coming – that she was going to lose her daughter. And who would handle that with grace?

  He unbuckled the clasp on his bracelet and handed it over for Megan to examine along with Quinn’s.

  15. A Change in Plans

  Everyone retreated upstairs far earlier than usual after a formal dinner. There had been music after the meal, but nobody really seemed to feel like dancing. The cake had been delicious, as always, but it didn’t really feel like a party.

  At some point, Stephen and Charlotte had disappeared, along with Ellen and Charles, but Quinn hadn’t felt like following after them. She would track them down tomorrow. For tonight, she needed some time to process everything she had learned, and to talk with William.

  She walked upstairs with her mom and her siblings, to the guest suite where they were staying. After kissing Annie and Owen goodnight and telling them to go and brush their teeth, she turned to her mom.

  “Thank you for tonight, Mom.”

  “I didn’t do anything except eat with you, honey.”

  “Yeah, you did. And I want you to know that I noticed, and that I see that you’re trying, and it means more to me than I know how to tell you.”

  “I love you, sweetheart.”

  After all the weeks of fighting and avoiding each other, her mom’s tight hug was almost too much, and she had to struggle to maintain her tight grip on her composure. “I love you, too, Mom.”

  When Megan finally pulled away, she looked at Quinn in concern, brushing her long hair back behind her shoulders. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah. Everything’s fine.”

  “It’s just . . . I thought Charlotte and Stephen were going to say something about your engagement tonight . . .”

  Of course her mom would have noticed that. Instead of being annoyed by that, though, she was just grateful that her mom was acknowledging the reality, and, in keeping with what she’d promised, was trying her best to be okay with it. “Everyone who was there already knows, I think. Nothing has changed.”

  It was obvious that her mom didn’t fully believe her, but she didn’t press the issue either, which made Quinn want to hug her again. So she did.

  “You’re sure you’re all right?”

  “I’m sure. I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”

  William was waiting for her back in her room, but he wasn’t alone. Although she’d sort of forgotten about anything except how much she wanted to have a few minutes to process and talk things through with William, she realized that she was grateful that Linnea and Thomas were there, too. William was already telling them what Jonathan had said.

  “So how much do you trust Jonathan?” Linnea asked, as Quinn came in and sat down at the end of the couch, next to William.

  She was silent as she thought about that, playing absently with the edge of the embroidered pillow. “Would it sound crazy if I said that I trust him?”

  “A little.” Linnea nodded. “He did just admit to trying to burn down the kingdom.”

  “I think that’s part of what makes me trust him, though. He didn’t have to admit that.”

  “And if he has managed to destroy the gate?” Thomas asked.

  “Can he do that? Would burning it down destroy it?”

  “I don’t know,” William said. “We won’t know until it’s supposed to open again and we try to use it.”

  “We’d all be stuck here. Forever.” Knots formed in Quinn’s stomach. She hadn’t allowed herself to think about that part of Jonathan’s confession.

  “Possibly. You still trust him?”

  She closed her eyes, trying to make some kind of sense out of her wildly raging thoughts. “I don’t know.” Unbidden, an image came to her from the first day she’d met Jonathan in the tent, of Owen nodding at her, at her understanding of what that nod had meant. “Yeah, I still kind of do. I can even see why he would want the gate destroyed. It’s caused nothing but problems for his kingdom – and he didn’t even know about Nathaniel and my father using it to escape. And can you imagine if Tolliver found it and figured out how to use it?”

  “If he has destroyed it, you’ll never be able to go home again, Quinn. Your mom, and Owen and Annie won’t, either.”

  “I know.” It was hard to speak around the hard lump that had formed in her throat and the swirling nausea that was gripping her stomach. “I know that. But just because it would be a huge tragedy for me, personally, does that mean he’s wrong? Does the fact that the home I grew up in – the fact that Jeff is still there,” her voice broke on her adopted father’s name, and she had to take a break before continuing, “does that mean using the gate the way we have been is actually the right thing to do?”

  Nobody spoke for several minutes. Quinn used the silence to take several deep breaths, to try to calm down her racing heart. She was trying her hardest not to think about the implications of what she had just said. It didn’t feel real – it felt more like one of the fun late-night conversations they’d all had before, filled with what-ifs and speculations about the connection between the worlds that they didn’t understand. She needed it to keep feeling like that, or she would never get through this conversation. As it was, she knew there was no chance she’d be sleeping tonight.

  “Well,” Linnea finally said, “it is a stone bridge. I don’t know if a fire would actually destroy it. And anyway, we won’t know about that until we try to use it. We’ll know in a couple of days.”

  “Is it only a couple more days already?”

  “Three, I think,” William said, rubbing her knee softly.

  “Okay.” She nodded.

  The knock on the door startled them all. Quinn was even more surprised when Thomas pulled the door open to reveal Ben.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt,” he said, “but I’ve been asked to bring you to a meeting with some of the members of the Friends of Philip.”

  “Tonight?”

  “Yes. I know it’s late, but your presence has been requested Lady Quinn, and yours as well, Master William.”

  “All right.”

  * * *

  Quinn, William, and Ben were nearly to the council room when she suddenly heard footsteps behind her. She spun around and nearly fell over when she found herself nose-to-nose with Alvin.

  “It’s nice to see you again too, Milady,” he said, putting a hand under her elbow to steady her. “And might I say you look especially lovely this evening. Quite fancy for a political strategy meeting.”

  Heat flowed up her neck and into her cheeks as she realized she was still dressed for dinner. She wasn’t actually sure how she was supposed to dress for a “political strategy meeting”, but she supposed an evening gown was a bit over the top.

  They’d now reached the heavy, double wooden doors to the council room. Alvin breezed ahead of them, and let himself in, leaving Quinn standing there, suddenly self-conscious about her clothes. William had at least managed to shed his cape.

  Ben turned to her, looking for a moment as if he was deciding something. “I know it’s none of my business, Lady Quinn,” he said quietly, “but if you are to be a queen, then I would think that you’re entitled to wear what you like to whatever occasion you wish. And you do look lovely – how I’d picture a queen in any case. I have a feeling Alvin may just be testing you – to see if you’ll rise to the challenge.”

  “Thank you, Ben.”

  Ben stepped into the room, and Quinn took a last glance up at William.

  “Ben’s right,” he whispered in her ear. “You’re beautiful, and nobody is going to be worried about what you’re wearing. I’ve seen my father dash off to meetings in his pajamas.”

  “So you and Ben are telling me I should own it.”

  He chuckled. “Own it?” Is that some kind of phrase from your world?”

  She shrugged, starting to smile, too.
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br />   “I’ve never heard that before, but yes, it’s fitting. It’s yours, Quinn. Go in there and ‘own it’.”

  So she did. She straightened her shoulders, and walked into the room, straight to the empty chair next to Stephen, at the head of the table. She looked around at the other people who were gathered there. Simon was on the other side of Stephen; to her right were Marcus, Nathaniel, Charles, and Ellen. Ben and William took seats at the other end of the table.

  Alvin, who was sitting on the other side of Simon, winked at her when she glanced his direction, and she knew Ben was right. It had been a test to see if he could rattle her – why? To teach her something? Maybe to focus on things that were important, instead of unimportant details. She wondered if he’d stick around long enough for her to ask him.

  Whatever the reason – it really didn’t matter. If she really was going to rule a kingdom, then she needed to be prepared to run to a meeting however she was dressed. Everyone else could deal.

  “What’s going on? I assume this has to do with what Jonathan said earlier?”

  Stephen cleared his throat. “Yes, that’s part of it. In addition to the things you heard from Jonathan today, Quinn, he told us something terrible this evening. Dorian and James Blackwelder have been convicted, and are scheduled to be executed.”

  Oh no. The room started spinning around her. The Blackwelders were the Philothean guards who had rescued Thomas from his imprisonment. Thomas literally owed his life to the two men.

  “Aside from that, earlier today, another regiment of Tolliver’s forces attempted to cross the border. Our troops were able to stop them, but there is still some fighting in Anwin and things are escalating faster than we were anticipating.”

  “So, time’s up.”

  “Yes. We need to do whatever we can to get you on that throne as quickly as possible – to end this.”

  “I still don’t trust Jonathan,” Charles said. “How do we know he’s not just trying to trick us, to make us more vulnerable?”

  “Do you have to trust him to know that he’s right?” Everyone looked at Alvin. “Whether he gave you some of that information for his own purposes, or not, he is right in that Sophia is the one who can put a successor on that throne.”

  “So can a unanimous vote of the council.”

  “Ah, Charles. That would be true only if Sophia were dead, and the council was acting on the authority of a proper member of the royal line. Do you really think you could ever get that council to vote unanimously on anyone except Tolliver? You’re lucky as it is that he hasn’t managed to replace enough members to achieve that goal already. Luckier still that there would be consequences for him if your mother – your mother, Charles – died unexpectedly. Take a step back and remember what your father would have really wanted for your kingdom – what you really want, when you don’t let the whisper of an idea get in the way.”

  Charles sat all the way back in his chair. Quinn frowned, trying to figure out what that had been about, though she thought she had an idea.

  “I think what we really need from all of you,” Stephen said, “is to know whether Quinn has your support moving forward. For the record, she has the support of Eirentheos. Now we need to know about you.”

  “How do we know she really is who she claims to be?” There was still a defiant gleam in Charles’ eye, and Quinn was almost sure her guess was correct. He had been hoping to put his own daughter on the throne. But when she looked up at Alvin, he shook his head once at her.

  “They could be making all of this up.” Charles’ voice was louder now.

  She shifted uncomfortably in her chair; she didn’t have any idea how she could prove to anyone who she was. Her fingers closed around the pendant on her neck.

  “She is Samuel’s daughter, Charles. You know that – you didn’t doubt that from the moment you laid eyes on her. She has his hair, his eyes, and his pendant. That isn’t what this is about.” Ellen said, surprising Quinn with her fierce tone. “I had my hesitations about whether she was serious, whether she was up to this, but we got our answers. Quinn, you have my support.”

  “You all know where I stand,” Nathaniel said. “So it’s just you, Charles.”

  “If you’re all so certain that we should hand over our kingdom to a young girl who knows nothing about us, then fine. I’m not going to fight with you about it. If this is what we’re going to do, then I say we move on it now. And I don’t think we should tell Jonathan everything, just in case we can’t trust him.”

  * * *

  Quinn’s hands were still shaking as William led her back to her bedroom after the meeting. He closed the door behind them before putting his arms around her. He didn’t ask if she was okay – he’d taken her admonition the other day – earlier today? he couldn’t keep track any more – seriously. He could understand that. It was a challenging time, but she didn’t need people constantly asking her if she was okay with it.

  Really, she was handling it all remarkably well – at least in public. He wondered if he would ever stop being impressed at the way she could instantly transform herself from a scared girl to a self-assured leader when she had to.

  “This is all happening so fast.”

  “Five days.” That’s what they’d decided at the meeting. Enough time to make plans and say their goodbyes. Enough time to see Quinn’s family through the gate in three days – provided the gate wasn’t destroyed. Ellen and Charles didn’t know all the details about the gate. “Five days until we leave, anyway. The trip will take much longer.”

  “That should be interesting,” she said, with a wry expression. “I don’t think Charles likes me very much.”

  “That has nothing to do with you – he obviously had his own agenda before he came here.”

  “So it wasn’t just me who noticed that?”

  “Definitely not. Alvin had him pegged, too.” Just as he always had everyone pegged – it hadn’t escaped his notice that Alvin had pulled Quinn to the side for a moment as everyone was saying goodnight. He’d decided not to ask her about it, though, figuring she would tell him about that when she was ready.

  She sighed, and he went to her, putting his arms around her, kissing her on the forehead. “You did great in there.”

  “It doesn’t feel like it.”

  “You did, though. Hey,” he said, suddenly remembering, “I have something for you.”

  She frowned.

  “Well, we were supposed to be celebrating your birthday tonight.”

  “That doesn’t seem like the most important thing right now.”

  “Anything that celebrates you is important to me, Quinn. Besides, you should take it while you can get it. Birthdays are sort of rare here – it’s a few thousand days until your next one.”

  Her eyes widened, and he smiled. “Yeah … that was one of the few things I really liked about going to Bristlecone when I was little. I didn’t have to wait as long for things as my brothers and sisters did. And then there … people have birthdays all the time. If there were twenty-four kids in your class, that was like two birthdays a month. And people brought cupcakes…” As he talked, he walked over to the chair where he’d laid down his cape, and picked it up, retrieving the little package from the pocket.

  “It’s not much,” he said. “But, I found it a couple of weeks ago when I was going through some old books, and … I really couldn’t believe it. I had no idea I’d done this. I wish I remembered it, but I don’t. I guess another downside of spending time here is that my childhood was a really long time ago.” He handed the gift to her.

  She was curious now; he could see it in her eyes. And he felt his cheeks warming, a little embarrassed now; he didn’t know what she was going to think.

  When the cloth came off, revealing a small, old, slightly tattered sketchbook – purchased in her world – she frowned up at him.

  “Apparently, when I was little, I thought I’d try my hand at drawing,” he said. “I still do a lot of that, but now it’s all diagrams
and stuff like that. I’m mostly only artistic with the carving…”

  He was definitely nervous now as she opened the cover.

  “Wow, Will,” she said, sucking in a breath. “These are good.”

  He wasn’t sure how old he’d been when he’d drawn them, but it was in the first couple of years he’d been in Bristlecone – still at the elementary school. The whole sketchbook was filled with drawings of things he’d seen there – the trees, the shops, the cars … and quite a few pictures of the kids at school.

  There were kids studying at desks, chattering as they ate lunch together, playing at recess. And there was one picture – the only colored picture in a sea of pencil drawings – of a little girl playing on a swing by herself, daydreaming, by the look in her soft gray eyes, her long, auburn hair blowing back in the wind.

  Those eyes looked up at him now with tears in them.

  “Yeah.” He nodded. “I did – even then, it seems.”

  This time she pulled him into her arms and kissed him, starting with the pink spots that were quickly fading from his cheeks, pooling instead into a warm glow deep inside his chest.

  “I love you, William Rose. This is the best birthday present I’ve ever had. Not this,” she said, touching the book gently before setting it down on the table, “although I love it very much, but this,” she placed her hand over his heart, “this is the present I’m most grateful for. Thank you for trusting me with it.”

  “Thank you for giving me yours,” he whispered, placing his hand over her heart, and then leaning in to kiss her on the lips.

  They held each other for a long time, just hugging, gently swaying back and forth, William’s heart overflowing with tenderness for her. But finally, she yawned.