Canes of Divergence (19 page)

“I’m certainly paying the consequences for it, regardless,” he answered, looking around at what appeared to be a well-appointed living room, replete with overstuffed couches, dark wood tables, and heavy brocaded curtains.

“You’d have paid some consequences either way. Perhaps there’s a reason you were there to answer Owen’s need today.”

Zander was reminded again of his conversation with the old man at the river, and he shuddered. “I don’t need to think about that right now, do I?”

“No.” Ben was smiling again.

Zander wasn’t sure if he was actually starting to calm down, or just go into shock from the events of the evening, but
he was a lot more comfortable with Ben than he been all evening. At least he wasn’t worried that the guard was going to start yelling at him – or touching him.

“This is your room –
there’s a bedroom through there,” Ben pointed at a partially open door, “and a washroom in there as well. It should be stocked with everything you need for the night. It looks like someone has brought up some clothes as well.”

There was a wicker basket on one of the low tables, filled to the top with clothing – it was all unfamiliar, but Zander guessed there was probably something in there that would fit well enough.
A taller table near the window held a metal pitcher and two glasses, along with a bowl of what he assumed was fruit – it looked like there were apples in there, anyway, even if their bright pink color was a bit surprising.

“If you’d like some privacy, I can let the staff know that you’d prefer not to be disturbed again tonight.”

He nodded.

Ben already had the door halfway open when Zander turned to him again. “Hey Ben?”

“Yes?”

“Even though you probably don’t feel like it, I would suggest moving around as much as possible before you go to bed.”

“Excuse me?”

“When I
was fourteen and I had those shots, my dad wouldn’t even let me relax for a minute after we got home. He made me lift weights in the basement and then go for a run with him. I was so mad at first – but he was right. A couple days later, when we had to get our next shots, Quinn and her friend Abigail were still sore, but I’d never had any problems.”

Ben nodded. “Did you tell Quinn – at the time?”

“Yeah, actually. I talked her into going on a walk down by the river after that second one; we spent an hour throwing the heaviest rocks we could find into it, and then I think we went wading or something. Neither one of us got sore after that. After the third one, we went bowling.” He found himself smiling at the memory.

“Bowling?”

“Yeah. It’s a sport in my world – throwing heavy balls at pins and trying to knock them down.”

“We have something si
milar here, if it’s what I’m picturing. Did the other girl go with you?”

Zander chuckled, shaking his head.
“If you’d met Abigail, you wouldn’t need to ask that question.”

Ben’s laugh surprised him – it was deep and rich,
betraying an entirely different side to the serious guard. “We have girls like that here, too.”

“I’d bet they exist everywhere.”

“Probably. Are you all right?”

“Uh, I suppose I’m as good as I’m going to get right now.”

“Okay, then. I’m sure I’ll talk to you again in the morning.”

Once Ben was gone, Zander knew he’d been lying; he wasn’t even close to all right. Here he was stuck in this strange world where Quinn was a queen, and married to William Rose, and now he had these memories flooding back.

He wondered if Quinn remembered all of it. Probably not; until just a few minutes ago, Zander had forgotten nearly all of the details himself. It was all there now, though – his family and Quinn’s packing into Dr. Rose’s office for the second round of shots. Their siblings had been so little then – two babies and two preschoolers, one with autism. Owen had suffered an epic meltdown before they even got inside. Back in those days, Owen hadn’t even been verbal, he remembered. There was no real explaining to him that the second time wouldn’t be nearly as bad as the first.

Zander’
s sister, Ashley, who was a year younger than Owen, had made it to the waiting room before she was a lost cause.

He
and Quinn had been on their own when Doctor Rose offered to take them back first. He didn’t remember where Abigail was – her parents must have taken her in at a different time. They’d been – inexplicably – angry about their children being exposed to rabies while staying at the cabin with the rest of them. It wasn’t like someone had let the bat in on purpose.

Quinn had been terrified. Zander hadn’t been giving her advice when he’d told her about the exercise thing; he’d been trying to calm h
er down, to get some color back into her chalk-white cheeks. He’d talked to her the whole time she was getting the shot, actually, and it had worked – she’d barely flinched when it happened. After it was over, they’d escaped the rest of the craziness and gone down to the river. It had been nice.

Even though she had to know
by then it wasn’t a big deal, the crazy girl had still been scared for the third dose. That time, she’d let him hold her hand while distracting her with outrageous ideas about where they would go afterwards. The outcome – bowling – might not have been outrageous, but it had been a whole lot of fun. She’d beaten him rather soundly. He’d teased her about letting her win – but that wasn’t entirely true. He’d promised her a rematch a week later, when they had to get their fourth shots.

Except that had never happened. That was the memory clouding his heart now.

Sometime that week, Adam had called him, so excited Zander was afraid he might wet himself. They’d both been invited to a pool party at Damian Dirkshaw’s house. Damian was a senior and the quarterback of the football team at the high school. There would be upperclassmen there. And cheerleaders. It had seemed like a big deal at the time. In the world of a fourteen-year-old boy about to enter high school, it
had
been a big deal.

He couldn’t take an eighth-grade girl. Or at least that’s what he’
d told himself.

He could have told her, though. Sometime before they were walking into the clinic.

But he hadn’t.

When he
’d finally told her, she’d shrugged, and she’d teased him that he just didn’t want to lose to her in bowling again.

But she’d walked to that b
ack room with Doctor Rose alone and closed the door behind her.

And when he showed up for the final shot a week later, he learned that she’d already been there earlier in the day.

A few days after that, high school had started. For the first time since kindergarten, Quinn hadn’t even been in the same building with him. She was back at Bristlecone K-8, and he had a whole new life – new classes, new friends, parties on the weekend, and football. It had taken him three and a half years and completely forgetting about the whole incident to ask her to that dance.

On second thought, maybe she did remember it.
Maybe this time she’d gotten out before Zander could treat her like that again. At least she’d been fair and talked to him – he hadn’t been left waiting for her when she’d decided to run off to a new life.

He didn’t know much about William Rose,
but something told him William would have chosen a scared friend over a party with cheerleaders.

Rosewood Castle, Eirentheos

“T
HAT WENT WELL.”
Quinn turned to see Thomas standing there, holding the promised tray of food.

“Yeah,” she chuckled. “You and I might define that word somewhat differently.”

He set the tray on the table in front of her, and handed her the plate. “There was no yelling and no tears. I call that a win.”

“I think there was almost yelling – I’m pretty sure there would have been some if he hadn’t stormed out.”

“We might have to be happy with what we can get at this point.”

“Yeah.” She smiled. “What would I do without you Thomas?”

“You seem to have been managing just fine without me in Philotheum.”

She studied him for a minu
te; he was grinning, but… “That’s really hard on you, isn’t it?”

“It was a joke, Quinn.”

“No, it wasn’t. Not underneath, anyway.”

The grin faded – not all the way, but he was more serious now.
“You did take yourself and my brother five days away from me, and now you’re back for my twin.”

“We miss you too, you know.”

“You have your lives there – you and Will have each other, and now the baby. Linnea has Ben…”

“And you think you’re losing Mia.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Have you been talking to Linnea?”

“No. I don’t know what Linnea knows – we’ll talk about our own issues, but if you think your sister would gossip about you, you’re wrong. I’ve seen it, Thomas. The distance between the two of you. I can’t figure out what’s causing it, but…”

“But it’s obvious enough that everyone sees it, not just me.”

“I don’t know about that. I’ve seen Mia more than most the last few days – and you less than I would have expected when she’s spending so much time with the baby.”

“It’s not about that, Quinn. I don’t begrudge her – or you – that time.”

“I know that.
It’s not about the time at all, is it?”

He shook his head.

“Do you think it’s because she knows that your heart isn’t really here in Eirentheos, anymore?”

Thomas frowned – almost convincingly.
“This is my home. Where else would my heart be?”

Now it was her turn to raise an eyebrow.

“I’m still underage. Even if I did want to be somewhere else, I’m not old enough. And I’m needed here. My parents are already sending two of their children to Philotheum.”

“I was underage in my world – I’d
still
be underage there. My parents weren’t ready to lose me. Neither were Annie and Owen – but it wasn’t about them.”

“That’s different. You were the heir. You left to assume your throne. If I entertain thoughts sometimes about going to Philotheum to be with you and William – it’s only that,
thoughts
. I’m sure it’s the same thing Linnea felt for all of the cycles I was allowed to go with Will sometimes to your world and to travel around Eirentheos with him and Nathaniel. I’m just jealous of your adventures without me.”

“Technically underage or no, Thomas – you’re not a child anymore. It’s not the same.”

Thomas was silent for several seconds – in other circumstances she might have teased him about it being a first.

“I just think it’s something worth discussing with your parents,” she said, “and it’s definitely a topic you need to bring up with Mia.”

“Speaking of whom,” Thomas said, looking over Quinn’s shoulder.

She turned to see Mia standing in the doorway across the room, holding Samuel. The baby wasn’
t crying, but even from where she was, Quinn could see his hands and head moving as he searched for his next meal. She smiled and stood.

“We’re not finished with this conversation, Thomas.”

“I didn’t imagine we were,” he said wryly.

“I’m going to take him back to my room. Could you please bring Owen to me in a few minutes – just Owen?”

“Sure.”

*          *          *

She knew she’d asked for a few minutes, and that Thomas was probably intentionally giving her time to get Samuel fed, changed, and comfortable, but Quinn was starting to get impatient waiting for him to bring Owen. She was so excited now that she was pacing back and forth in the sitting room, cradling the baby to her chest.

Owen was going to get to meet Samuel.
It had broken her heart to worry that it would never happen – that her son would never get to meet his beloved uncle, that she’d never be able to share this tiny miracle with anyone from her family.

She had to blink back a few tears at the thought that her mom wasn’t here, or Annie, or Jeff. But at least Owen was.
Owen would get to see and hold Samuel – she was definitely going to need a handkerchief. She stepped into the bedroom to retrieve one, all the while wishing she had a camera.

Her hand was in the drawer, reaching for a handkerchief, when the knock came. It startled her so badly she accidentally pulled the drawer out too far, and then had to catch it, nearly hitting the baby’s foot in the process. Heart pounding, she pushed it shut, very narrowly missing closing her finger inside.

“Quinn?” Thomas called. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah, come in.”

She made it back into the sitting room at almost the same second Thomas led Owen inside – with no handkerchief to use on the tears that welled up the second Owen’s mouth fell open.

“Hey buddy,” she said, noting that her voice didn’t sound as shaky as it felt. “I have someone here I’d like you to meet.”

The door clicked quietly shut as Thomas disappeared, leaving the two – the three – of them alone in the room.

“Is this…” Owen breathed.

Quinn carried the baby over to the couch and sat down with him, patting the cushion beside her. Owen climbed up.

“Yes, Owen
. This is my little boy. Your nephew. You’re an uncle.”

“
Wow.”

She scooted closer to Ow
en and tucked him under her arm, snuggling with him and the baby at the same time, leaning down to bury her nose in her little brother’s hair and kiss the top of his head.

Owen’s grin took up nearly his whole face as he leaned in closer, holding his hand
hesitantly over the baby.

“You can touch him. It’s fine.”

Ever so gently, he ran the back of his finger over the infant’s hair and down the side of one cheek. Samuel stirred and opened his eyes.

Quinn held her breath, but the baby didn’t fuss. Instead, he blinked and – she swore – looked right at Owen. For a long time, the two of them just stared at each other, each checking the other one out.

“He likes you,” she said.

“I love him.”

“Would you like to hold him?”

Owen nodded vigorously, but he wiggled away from her, sliding down to the floor. “Wait a second.” He opened one of the pockets on his cargo pants and pulled out a little black zippered case.

Quinn frowned, not understanding, but a second later she gasped as Owen unzipped the case and withdrew a small digital camera.

“Where did you get that?”

“Dad bought it for me as a present when he came home. I had to bring it – I just knew there would be something I wanted to take pictures of.”

Quinn’s throat suddenly felt very thick.
She didn’t have any pictures of the baby. An artist had already been commissioned to do a painting of him – and one of the three of them, the new royal family, when they returned to Philotheum – and a few of the more artistically inclined members of William’s family, including William himself, had made some very nice sketches, but there were no photographs of him.

“You’ll be able to show Mom and Dad.”

Owen nodded. “I have a little photo printer, too, and some paper for it. It has a rechargeable battery. I didn’t know if you’d be here in Eirentheos or not, but I brought it just in case. I thought William or Nathaniel could maybe help me find a way to plug it in here at the castle so I could give you some pictures. I brought some pictures I already printed at home, of me and Annie and Mom and Dad.”

She was really wishing she’d managed to bring a handkerchief out here now – she had to settle for the extra diaper
she was using as a burp cloth.

The bright flash made her flinch again – it was surprisingly powerful for such a tiny camera, but again, Samuel wasn’t fazed. He was still watching everything Owen did as if he was interested in him.

After Owen had snapped half a dozen photos of both Samuel and Quinn, he was finally ready to sit down and hold the baby. He settled himself carefully against the pillows, putting his legs out and positioning his arms precisely the way Quinn told him to as she set the baby gently into them.

“He’s so beautiful,” Owen said, clearly in awe.

“I think he looks a little like you.”

Owen smiled, leaning over to plant the softest kiss on Samuel’s forehead before resuming staring into his eyes.

After a moment, though, his expression clouded.

“You don’t think he’ll
be
like me do you – if he looks like me?”

Her heart jumped into her throat and her eyes felt hot and prickly. “Owen
...  ”

“Actually, we hope he’s very much like you.” Quinn jumped at William’s voice from
behind them.

“I’m sorry love,” William said, walking around the couch and putting his hand on her shoulder. “I came in quietly, in case the baby was asleep, and then … I didn’t want to interrupt, but…” He turned to Owen, kneeling by the couch so the two of them were eye level. “We love you so much, Owen – you’re exactly who you’re supposed to be. And if Samuel gr
ows up to be even half as loving and smart and wonderful as you, we will be as proud of him as we are of you.”

“William is right, Owen,” she said, wrapping her arm around his shoulders again. “There’s nothing about you I wish was different –
nothing.
”

“What about when I’m upset and you can’t calm me down?”

“It makes me sad when you’re scared or you’re hurting and you don’t know how to tell me and I don’t know how to help, Owen, but it doesn’t make me not love you or wish you weren’t who you are. And it will be the same with Samuel, whoever he grows up to be. Okay?”

“Okay.”

They were all quiet for a moment, watching Owen and the baby look at each other.

“Is that his name, Samuel?” Owen asked.

“He hasn’t officially had his Naming Ceremony yet, so we can’t just call him by his name in front of everyone, but yes, his name is going to be Samuel.”

“Like your real father?”

“Yes.”

“He’s going to be a king someday.”

“He is. And do you know what his middle name will be?”

“What?”

“Owen.”

The little boy’s eyes widened as he looked back and forth between William and Quinn.

“Yeah, buddy. We really do love you that much. We really do want him to be just like you.” Quinn kissed his head again. “Do you want to show William what you brought?”

Owen and Will were both so excited about the camera that the discussion was forgotten quickly. They probably snapped a hundred pictures – some of them of just Samuel, but plenty of
Owen holding Samuel and Quinn holding him, too.

William still didn’t want to touch
the baby for another twenty-four hours, and although she didn’t agree with him, she was able to let that go. He was meeting her halfway and was touching her, at least. Maybe someday she’d find a way to convince Owen he wasn’t the only one who needed special care sometimes.

Yesterday, she’d almost been convinced that she was never going to be this happy again. And now, William was going to be okay, and Owen was here, meeting Samuel, taking pictures they’d get to keep and share – there were very few way
s it could get better than this, and she was deliberately choosing not to think of them.

Nearly an hour later
, there was a knock at the door, and William opened it to reveal both Thomas and Linnea.

They
, too, were fascinated with the camera. Linnea had never seen anything like it, and she had to spend several minutes trying it out, taking pictures of everyone, but especially of Samuel, fast asleep in Owen’s arms. Once the novelty finally wore off, Thomas turned to Owen.

“Did you pack any pajamas in that magic bag of yours, or just fancy toys?”

“I didn’t bring pajamas – or clothes,” the little boy admitted, as Quinn took the baby from him.

Linnea laughed.
“I wonder if any of the clothes you wore last time even still fit you. I think you’ve grown four inches.”

“Well, I am an uncle now.”
Owen was so proud, Quinn thought her heart might burst from seeing the joy on his face.