Blooms of Consequence (Dusk Gate Chronicles Book 4) (31 page)

“Mother,” Jonathan said, very softly, “we have more to tell you.”

*          *          *

“So you’re my granddaughter,” Sophia said, studying Quinn intently. She held both Quinn’s and Samuel’s pendants in her hand, and was rubbing the etched surface of Samuel’s with her thumb. “I can see it; you certainly look the part. Those are Samuel’s eyes.”

She looked at Nathaniel. “Why would he have done this? Why didn’t he just come back when he was an adult?”

Nathaniel sighed. “I’m afraid I don’t know all of the reasons, Mother. He was afraid – for himself, for Quinn, for his wife, who didn’t even know who he really was.”

“How is that possible? Surely everyone in Eirentheos…”

“It doesn’t matter how, Mother. It’s the truth.” He opened the backpack he’d been carrying, and pulled out an envelope, handing it to Sophia so she could examine the certificate inside, the one from Quinn’s Naming Ceremony, signed by Alvin. “Quinn only just learned who she is about a moon ago.”

“And now you’ve pushed her into a marriage, so that she can fulfill the prophecy?”

“No.” Quinn was careful not to shout, but her voice was firm. “My marriage to William had nothing to do with the prophecy.”

“Other than the fact that it conveniently fulfills it?” Again, there was that tiny spark in Sophia’s eyes.

“That was rather fortunate,” Quinn agreed.

“Quite. Not that it matters. You’re married now – however that came to be. Are you with child?”

A flash burn raced across Quinn’s cheeks. “We’ve only been married six days.”

Sophia raised an eyebrow, but continued speaking. “And you’re standing here telling me that you’re prepared to take your birthright, to take my place as queen.”

Quinn swallowed hard. “Yes.”

Sophia nodded. “This should have been different, I suppose. I should have known you existed, for one. I should have been prepared to meet you, and greet you properly and get to know you a little bit … but that isn’t where we are. So, for today, I’m going to have to say that I’ve been praying for an answer – any answer that would keep the throne away from Hector and Tolliver, and you’ll do.”

SHE’D DO. Quinn didn’t know what she’d expected, but hearing her long-lost grandmother tell her “she’d do” hadn’t quite been it. She supposed it was better than rejection.

She was still reeling from that response, trying to figure out what exactly it meant, when Sophia turned to Jonathan. “Go and speak to Hadrian. Have the girl brought to me, please. I don’t care what he has to say about it.”

“Yes, Mother.” Jonathan stood and walked toward the door. When he reached it, though, he turned around with a strange look on his face. “Has it been like this the whole time?”

They all looked. Although he’d not yet grasped the knob, the door was ajar, just slightly.

Sophia frowned. “I thought you closed it all the way.”

“I did.”

She shrugged. “These old houses – sometimes you can’t be sure. This is a private, secured hallway in any case. I’m sure it’s fine.”

Once Jonathan was gone, the silence was awkward. They all stared at each other for what felt like a very long time.

Quinn finally decided to speak. “So you believe me? That I’m your granddaughter and the heir to the throne?”

“Do you have some reason to lie to me that I don’t know about? If someone was simply trying to usurp the throne, I suspect they’d have sent me a boy. Though it would have been hard to find one that looked as much like Samuel as you do. And harder still to find one that Stephen would have allowed one of his children to marry.”

“I suppose that’s true.”

“Yes, it’s true. Besides, you still have a difficult road ahead of you. I doubt my husband or my son will give up very easily.”

“Or at all.” The new voice startled them all as the door swung all the way open.

The first thing Quinn saw was Linnea, which confused her, because it wasn’t Linnea’s voice she’d heard, it was… Adrenaline rushed through her veins as she realized that Tolliver was just behind Linnea, and he had one arm around her chest, and he was pointing a dagger at her throat.

“I hate to intrude on your lovely little meeting here, but I think there are a few things you haven’t considered.” Slamming the door closed with his foot, Tolliver strode purposefully into the room, pushing Linnea in front of him.

Linnea looked terrified, her arms dangling by her sides, although her eyes scanned the room, taking in her surroundings. After a brief glance at Quinn, William, and Nathaniel, Linnea’s eyes locked on something to the far side of the room, and she made a small grabbing motion with one hand.

Quinn didn’t dare follow Linnea’s gaze. Marcus and Ben were over there, but the way Tolliver was standing, she didn’t think he’d seen them.

“I don’t know who you are,” Tolliver said, looking right at Quinn. “Or why Stephen thinks he can get away with tricking my mother out of my throne, but if you don’t pack up and head back to wherever it is you’re from, I will kill her.”

“How will you fulfill the prophecy if you do?” Quinn asked.

Tolliver looked stunned, but only for a second. “I won’t. I’ll come up with some other way. I’m sure that killing Stephen’s daughter will make him angry enough to really fight. Perhaps then my father can bring in some real forces from Dovelnia to defend our borders.”

“And what will that accomplish, Tolliver?” She didn’t care about the answer, wasn’t even sure what she was asking. Her only goal right then was to keep him talking, keep him focused on her. Ben and Marcus had managed to creep around the outside of the room.

“What business is it of yours? All you need to know is that if you don’t leave here now, I really will kill the girl. And I don’t think you want that.” He pressed the tip of the knife into Linnea’s neck just enough to draw blood.

“Will you let her go if I leave?”

“I won’t kill her. I’ll still need her to fulfill the prophecy then, but I assure you, she’ll be treated as a proper princess of Philotheum, as my
wife
.”

Suddenly, Tolliver gasped in pain. As he did, Linnea reached up with her left hand and grabbed his knife, pulling it away from her neck. Somehow, she twisted around, out of his grasp, and pointed it at his chest.

Only then did Quinn see the quickly growing bloodstain on the leg of Tolliver’s pants. It took a second to realize the source – the small dagger embedded in his thigh.

Marcus and Ben were both behind him with lightning speed. Ben took the knife from Linnea, and held it at Tolliver’s neck himself while Marcus grabbed his hands and held them behind his back. Then, Ben moved to the side so Marcus could force Tolliver down onto the ground.

“Quick, I need something to tie his hands with.”

Everyone looked around for a few seconds, seeing nothing. William finally unbuckled his belt, and handed it to Marcus, before grabbing his sister, and pulling her back toward the couch.

That was when Quinn realized that Linnea was bleeding, too. There was a trail of blood on the carpet, dripping from her hand where she’d grabbed the blade of Tolliver’s knife.

Just then, Jonathan appeared again in the doorway with two guards behind him. He blinked when he saw the scene. “Well, I guess you took care of it.” Turning to the two guards, he said, “Take him, please. He’s under arrest.”

“Please,” Tolliver spat, though he was still being pinned to the ground by Marcus. “You can’t arrest me. I’m the heir to the throne.” He looked at Sophia. “Mother, don’t be ridiculous. You need to end this before my father finds out.”

Sophia sighed. “I will always wonder how much of your sense of entitlement is my fault, Tolliver. Somewhere along the line, I should have managed to teach you that I’m the one you really needed to answer to. You’re right about me needing to end it, however.” Squaring her shoulders, she looked right at the two guards. “Arrest him. Make sure his injuries are treated, but don’t let him go anywhere.”

“Don’t move him yet!” Nathaniel said, stepping in front of the guards, and kneeling down next to Tolliver.

“Nathaniel…” Williams’s voice was strained.

Quinn turned, looking toward where she’d heard William’s voice, but she saw Linnea first and gasped. There was a lot more blood on Linnea’s hand than there had been a minute ago. A dark red stain was spreading across her shirt. There was also a trickle running down the side of her neck. William was already over there, kneeling in front of the couch where she was sitting – he was the one who had taken the hem of Linnea’s skirt and wrapped her hand in it as best he could.

Nathaniel looked at William. “I have some supplies in my bag,” he said. “Quinn, can you hand me my backpack? I need to get Tolliver’s injury stable before he bleeds out.”

“Like you would care,” Tolliver said, acid in his voice. But there was sweat beading on his forehead, and he was starting to look pale. There was a
lot
more blood under Tolliver now; forming a pool on the carpet by his leg.

“Whatever else I am, Tolliver, I’m not someone who’s going to sit by while my brother dies when I could have done something.”

“Brother? What are you talking about?” Tolliver looked frantically between Nathaniel and Sophia. “What is he talking about?”

“Nathaniel is your brother.”

“No, my brother Nathaniel died when I was young. Just like Samuel.”

“Samuel didn’t die, either,” Sophia said. “At least not when you were a child. He lived long enough to produce an heir. Quinn is his daughter.”

“That’s impossible.”

“No,” Nathaniel said, “what’s impossible is you staying conscious much longer with that hole in your leg. I think she hit an artery.”

“Well, maybe if you took the damn knife out! I’d do it myself, but I’m a bit indisposed.”

“And it’s a good thing you are,” Nathaniel said, unzipping the bag Quinn had handed him. “If you pulled that thing out right now, you’d bleed to death right here. And as much as, right now, I think I wouldn’t mind watching that, I’m sure later on, it will be more satisfying to know you’re watching Quinn sit on the throne from your prison cell.”

“Nathaniel!” The shock in Sophia’s voice matched Quinn’s own feelings. She couldn’t believe she’d heard Nathaniel say that – not that she disagreed with him, but still…

“Don’t tell me there’s not at least a part of you that feels the same way right now, Mother.  He
kidnapped
Linnea, and was going to force her to marry him. The last time he met Quinn, he nearly attacked her – his own
niece.
”

“I didn’t know that.” Tolliver said. There was still derision in his voice, but it was weaker now. He’d gone pale white; the cloth Nathaniel was tying around the knife was already turning red.

“It doesn’t matter what you knew,” Nathaniel said through his teeth. “You’re a miserable excuse for a human being for even trying it. And you deserve what’s coming to you. But right now, I’m going to save your life so I can make sure you get it.”

He looked up at Jonathan. “Is there somewhere we can take him – with a table, maybe? And are there supplies here of any kind?”

Jonathan nodded. “These two will take him for you. I will speak to Brian about whether there are any supplies – for both of you.”

The two guards, under Nathaniel’s direction, carefully lifted Tolliver and headed toward the door.

As Quinn picked up William’s backpack to carry it to him, she heard Jonathan talking quietly with Sophia.

“Come on, Mother. Let’s let them take care of this.” Quinn glanced at her grandmother and saw that she’d gone almost as white as Tolliver, and her hands were shaking.

“Are we safe here?” Quinn asked Jonathan, as he helped Sophia to her feet.

“Yes.” Sophia answered. “As safe as you would be anywhere, now that we know where Tolliver is.”

“Where is Hector?”

“I don’t know where my husband is, Quinn, but I know he wasn’t traveling in this direction any time soon. Jonathan will ask some more guards from the Friends of Philip to stand outside the door for you, if it will make you feel safer. Perhaps we can talk later, after I’ve had a chance to rest.”

“We can keep watch in the hallway as well,” Marcus said, looking a little green himself. The carpet did look a bit like a murder scene. “Ben?”

Ben was in the middle of scooping Linnea into his arms to carry her into the adjoining bedroom. “I’ll stay inside and guard here – if that’s all right?” He was looking at Linnea as he asked.

Linnea gave a weak shrug. “That’s up to you.”

Marcus closed the door tightly behind him. Quinn followed William, Ben, and Linnea into the bedroom, although a not-small part of her would have gladly gone with Marcus into the hallway.

*          *          *

“I am going to ruin that,” Linnea said, as Ben tried to set her gently down on the soft white comforter. Quinn darted in front of them, and Ben lifted Linnea back up a little, so Quinn could pull the blankets off.

“Are there any towels anywhere?” Quinn asked.

Ben looked around helplessly. “I don’t see anything in here. I can go ask someone to bring us some.”

William nodded. “Water would be great, too. The biggest pitcher or basin you can find.” He was digging through his backpack, pulling out everything that resembled a piece of cloth or a medical supply. Quinn was relieved to see him take out his leather bag and set it on the bed.

Ben hurried out of the room.

“So, how bad is it?” Linnea asked.

William looked up from the supplies he was organizing and ran his finger down the side of his sister’s cheek. “That had to have been the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen in my life, Nay. I am stunned, and so proud of you.”

And that was when it hit Quinn, so hard that the realization made her knees go weak, and she had to sit down on the bed beside Linnea. That had all just really happened. And Linnea was here, right in front of them. Safe –
mostly, anyway.

She couldn’t stop herself from pulling Linnea into her arms – injuries and blood notwithstanding, she needed to touch her, to feel that she was real.

“That’s not what I asked,” Linnea said, once she and Quinn had finally let each other go, and Quinn had helped her lie back against the pillows. “How badly did I damage myself?”

“Well,” William said, sitting down beside her and unwrapping the strip of cloth he’d tied around her hand. “You are definitely going to be seeing the wrong end of a needle for the first time. But I think it’s going to be okay.”

Quinn rubbed Linnea’s shoulder.

“Is it going to hurt?”

“Doesn’t it already?”

“It’s starting to. It didn’t really when it happened. Is that weird?”

“No. It was a sharp knife, and you had a lot of adrenaline in your system. It’s a clean cut–you probably didn’t feel much of anything. It’s deep, but not so bad. Stitches will fix it. Same with the cut on your neck. Fortunately, I do have most of what I need here. Part of me thought it was stupid to carry this stuff across the river instead of just sending it with Skittles, but now I’m glad I did.”

Linnea nodded, though her lower lip trembled a little, and the color had drained from her face.