Thorns of Decision (Dusk Gate Chronicles) (11 page)

He felt bad that she hadn’t even had a chance to bring even a few small personal items with her from home – the confrontation with her mother hadn’t given her an opportunity to grab anything when she stopped by her house. His parents would provide anything she needed while she was here, of course, but he was sure there must be at least a couple of things she would have liked to have.

“Do you think Quinn is really okay?” Nathaniel asked as they stood there. The look of concern on his face dissipated some of William’s anger toward his un – toward Nathaniel.

“I think it’s a lot for anybody to take in,” William said. “Not just Quinn.”

“I know. I’m sorry I’ve kept this hidden from you all this time. The way old secrets are coming out all the time lately, I wonder if you’ll ever trust me again.”

“It really depends on what else you’re hiding. Because I’m getting the impression that this is not all of it.”

Nathaniel met his gaze directly, and William could see the regret in his eyes. “No. This is not all of it. And I’m sorry about that; I promise that it won’t always be like this. For a long time now, I’ve looked forward to the day when I can share everything with you. I never meant to hurt you, William. Whether I’m related to you by blood or not, you have always been my nephew, and I have always loved you.”

William closed his eyes for a second, nodding. “I know. I love you, too. I just wish I understood.”

“I know. It’s almost dark. I’ll see you soon.” Nathaniel took William’s hand, squeezed it, and then disappeared through the gate.

The ride back to the castle was slow and calculated. Maxwell and Simon rode up front, while William and Quinn sat in the bed with Thomas, right next to each other as they kept him company and tried to make him comfortable. Although they probably could have made the trip faster if they were walking, William kept telling his brothers to slow down. He wondered more than once what he and Nathaniel had been thinking allowing Thomas to travel so soon after his surgery.

They weren’t even halfway back to the castle before Thomas relented and allowed William to give him another dose of pain medicine. The breath of relief from Quinn’s direction was as loud as his own when Thomas’ eyelids finally fluttered closed.

“Never again,” he told her.

To his surprise, she shrugged. “I don’t like to watch it, but I’d hate even more for him to be trapped there, and miss another ten days here. You know how hard it is to be away from your parents. Imagine being hurt and in pain away from them.”

He turned to the side and looked into her gray eyes, ringed with dark lashes that contrasted with her auburn hair. An uncomfortable feeling settled in his chest as he realized just how badly she was hurting, too.

“What happened with your mom?” he asked quietly.

She closed her eyes, and shook her head. Her hands balled into fists. “I thought about telling her what Nathaniel told me. The whole drive home, Annie was chattering at me from the backseat, and all I could hear was the imaginary conversation I was rehearsing in my head … And then I saw her. She had an expression that was half-furious, and half- something else. Worried, maybe. Devastated. And I couldn’t do it. I wasn’t ready, and I could tell that having that discussion now, when my head is where it’s at … it wouldn’t have been good.”

Tentatively, he rested his hand on her knee – he knew she didn’t need his words right now, but he wanted her to know he was completely there.

“So I sent Annie to put her dirty clothes in the laundry room, and I told my mom where I was going – that I would be back before school starts again, but I didn’t know exactly when, that I needed some time.”

William nodded silently, and as she set her elbows on her bent knees so she could bury her head in her arms, he moved his hand to her shoulders, rubbing her back softly as they rode toward the castle.

*          *          *

They were about halfway between the gate and the castle when, over the side of the wagon, Quinn caught a glimpse of something she didn’t expect. She was straining to get a closer look, and William was turning to follow her gaze, when Simon brought the horses to a stop.

Max and Simon both climbed down from the wagon and approached the small gathering of people several feet back from the path they were on – if it could even be called a path. Though not far from the capital city, the gate was buried in a remote area. Quinn had never seen even one other person along this route on any of her trips.

 The group appeared to be made up of maybe two or three families, young couples and their children, setting up makeshift tents and building a fire.

She frowned at William. “They’re camping?” she asked.

He shook his head slightly, never taking his eyes off his brothers. “People don’t camp recreationally in our world, Quinn. Only when they’re traveling, like we did.”

“So why are Simon and Maxwell so worried about it? People are allowed to travel here, right?” They did look worried, though, and Simon was deep in conversation with a man who looked to be in his late twenties; he appeared to be a leader in the group.

“It’s
very
unusual for anyone to camp this close to the city. Even in the smallest villages in our kingdom, there are always inns or privately-run homes where people can find accommodations. Not to mention – we’re a little, um,
protective
of this area.”

After a few more minutes, Simon and Max headed back toward the wagon. The people they had been talking to started folding up their canvas cloths and extinguishing their fire.

“What was that?” William asked, as his brothers climbed back into the wagon.

“Philothean refugees. A huge number of people in their village were arrested ten days ago, on suspicion of helping with the resistance. They managed to sneak across the border six days ago, they said. They’ve been camping their way here ever since.”

Quinn’s eyes were wide. “Why would they have to sneak across the border?” she asked.

Max turned around and climbed down into the bed of the wagon as Simon began driving the horses again. “Things have changed quickly since the last time you were here, Quinn. Philotheum has become dangerous for those who don’t support Tolliver – and very rewarding for those who do. He can’t have been happy when his hostage slipped through his fingers,” he said, nodding toward Thomas. “He knows he has to get control of the political situation in his country quickly. There are rumors he plans to announce his ascension to the throne soon.”

“So the border is closed between the kingdoms, then?” Quinn asked.

“No. In theory it’s still open. But for people whom Tolliver and his troops don’t wish to allow to leave…”

“Like those people back there.”

“Right.”

“So where are they going now? Why did you make them leave?”

“We didn’t make them do anything. They’ve been traveling hard for many days and are low on supplies and food. We gave them directions to an inn in a nearby village that will take refugees who have no family in Eirentheos.”

“What do you mean – an inn that will ‘take them’?” William asked.

“There have been some issues lately here, Will. Some in Eirentheos are wary of contact with strangers from Philotheum. It’s hard to blame them in a way, after the poisonings, and spying, and rumors.”

Quinn raised an eyebrow – she understood some of what they were talking about, but not all of it.

“There are some who even believe that we should secure the border from our side.”

Simon brought the horses to a stop again, and turned around – it was obvious he’d been paying attention to the entire conversation. “That’s not something we’re going to discuss, Maxwell. Eirentheos is not going to cut off a connection with our brothers.”

“I know how you and Father feel about it, Simon. And I’ve never said I disagree; only that it’s a part of a bigger picture we should consider. In any case, I’m only trying to explain to William and Quinn what’s going on, why, right or wrong, those people aren’t able to just walk in the front door of any inn in the kingdom, so we directed them to one where they could Now, let’s go. We need to get Thomas home.”

*         *          *

When they came to a stop in the main courtyard closest to the family’s living quarters, Simon hopped down. “I’ll go let Mother and Father know we’re here.”

Thomas, who had awakened a few minutes before, tried to lift his head up far enough to see over the side of the wagon. “I want to get settled in my room before I have an audience. Please?”

The plea in his voice tugged at Quinn’s heart. He was having a harder time than he was letting on. The brothers nodded, and moved to assist him, instead.

Of course, in a castle full of people, it would have been impossible to avoid everyone, even though they used a private entrance that led directly upstairs to the family’s rooms. When she thought about it later, Quinn was surprised that the news of their arrival hadn’t already traveled from the guard in the gatehouse.

Sitting on a couch, and reading a book, just inside the vestibule they entered, was Linnea. Thomas’ twin jumped up and ran to them, relief and panic both mixed in her expression as she took in the image of Simon, Max, and William trying to carry Thomas upstairs without jostling him any more than they absolutely had to.

Linnea looked startled to see Quinn, but she didn’t say anything, just reached to take one of the heavy backpacks Quinn was toting, and then the two girls walked in front of the boys, opening doors, and making sure the path was clear all the way to Thomas’ room and his bed.

Between the five of them, they managed to get Thomas settled and as comfortable as possible without hurting him more than necessary, though several times Quinn saw him grit his teeth when they moved him.

After Simon and Max left to go downstairs, Linnea pulled two chairs to the side of the bed, and she and Quinn sat and watched as William worked to get things set back up around Thomas’ room. She would have offered to help, but she’d already learned from the weeks they’d spent here before they went back to her world that William had a “system” – there was a certain order of things, and while there were a few things she’d picked up on, she’d also learned that sometimes the most helpful thing she could do was to stay out of his way.

 They didn’t have a hospital bed, of course, but Simon and Max had helped William rig up Thomas’ mattress so that the top half was elevated a little when Thomas had come back here right after his first surgery. Quinn had spent many hours in this chair beside his bed, keeping Thomas company while he recovered – and William while he worked.

All of William’s medical supplies were arranged in the drawers of a long dresser that Mia had emptied when he’d asked for a spot. He spent several minutes now opening and closing the drawers, re-arranging and re-stocking them with supplies they’d brought back through the gate.

Quinn looked down at Thomas. He was still wide awake, the ordeal of being carried up from the wagon had been difficult, and she could tell he was hurting again. He smiled at her though, and she reached over and brushed the back of her hand down his uninjured arm. “Sorry,” she said.

He narrowed his eyes at her. “
You
have nothing to be sorry about. This isn’t your fault. I’m the one who ran off into Philotheum when I shouldn’t have, and Harbin Rhinewald is the one who did this to me.
Not
you.”

William walked around the bed toward them, setting several plastic packets down on the edge of the bed. “She means we’re all sorry you have to go through this.
I’m
sorry we couldn’t do the surgery the right way here in our world the first time, and now you’ve had to do this twice.”

Quinn nodded. Thomas had already been through the worst of the recovery process once. He’d been doing a lot better before she’d gone back to her own world on Saturday night – even able to get up and move around some, and he’d stopped using any medications. And she knew he’d had another ten days of recovery after that.