Blooms of Consequence (Dusk Gate Chronicles Book 4) (5 page)

She was way past exhausted herself; she actually had to stop halfway to the well to set the buckets down for a minute while she waited for a wave of dizziness to pass. For a second, she felt hot, and then she shivered.

Should have listened to William and taken that nap while I could
, she thought. Then she realized that her lips were very dry, and when she thought about it, she couldn’t remember when she’d last stopped to take a drink. She promised herself she’d remedy that as soon as she got to the well, and she picked the buckets back up again.

The only light was the just-past full moon, but she was familiar enough with the route and the well that she’d left her lantern back at the camp so that she could carry two buckets.

The voice startled her so badly that she nearly dropped the first bucket down into the well.

“Lady Quinn?”

She didn’t recognize the voice, and she spun around to see who it was. An unfamiliar man was standing there, almost too close. There were a lot of people she didn’t know at the camp, but something about his proximity sent a shiver running down her spine. She took a deep breath, trying to stay composed. “Can I help you with something?”

She took a small step backwards, pressing her back against the stone wall of the well, but the man stepped closer. Her heart began to pound furiously.

“I’m here to ask you to come with me, please.”

Definitely not
. She stood up as tall as she could, and stepped deftly to the side. “Who are you?”

The man was unfazed; he shadowed her movement, boxing her in, trapping her. “I need you to come with me.”

She watched, in horrified slow motion, as he extended his hand toward her. She opened her mouth, ready to scream. Surely someone would hear her.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” the man said, in a low, warning tone. His hand stopped a couple of inches from her face, and opened. There was a small object resting on his palm that made her heart stop completely. She recognized the object instantly, though she couldn’t wrap her mind around what it could possibly be doing here.

It was a small carving of a wooden horse, half the size of the man’s palm. She knew that if she examined the details carefully, she would make out a perfect representation of Dusk’s profile. William had carved it himself, sometime after her very first visit to Eirentheos. He’d brought it back to her world to give it to her, as a present for Annie. It had quickly become the little girl’s most prized possession.

It shouldn’t be here. It should be where it belonged – back in her own world, in her little sister’s pocket – Annie had been known to change coats to make sure she had a pocket to put it in – or in the special place on her dresser where Annie kept it while she was sleeping.

She stared at the horse for several long seconds, before the man closed his hand and withdrew it.

“Come on, Lady Quinn.”

WILLIAM WAS EXHAUSTED. The line of patients coming into the clinic was endless. Fortunately, there hadn’t been many serious injuries yet, and the reports he’d heard seemed to indicate that everyone had been evacuated safely, and that so far no homes had been destroyed by the approaching blazes. But still, the work for him – and Jacob and Nathaniel – kept accruing.

He couldn’t remember there ever having been a wildfire so close to the Eirenthean capitol city. After the evacuation of the homes on the hill, their temporary camp had filled to overflowing, both with evacuees, and with friends and relatives desperately searching for their loved ones.

“William, have you eaten yet?” Nathaniel asked, just as William sent another patient outside after a breathing treatment. “I never saw you go for dinner.”

“Um...” Quinn had said something earlier about getting him a plate, but he’d gotten busy and forgotten quite a while ago. “No.” Now that he thought about it, he’d never eaten lunch, either.
Had Quinn
? She’d worried him today. She kept telling him that she was fine, but something just wasn’t quite right.

“You should go,” Jacob said. But just as he spoke, there was a loud wail a short distance from their tent.

A minute later, a woman appeared in the doorway, carrying a disheveled, screaming toddler. She was covered in dirt, and her short blond hair was in stringy knots. It had been a long, difficult day for all of the families here.

“What happened?” William asked, walking over to them.

“She fell. Her elbow is bleeding.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Nathaniel said, stepping in front of him and leading the mother over to one of the cots. “Just get me a wet towel so we can get her cleaned up, and then go eat. You and Quinn should go back to the castle for the night soon anyway.”

William nodded, and headed for the stack of towels on the table where they were keeping the buckets of clean water. But when he went to dip the towel in the bucket, he realized it was empty. He looked down to the floor for another bucket, but there were only two, and they were both empty as well. The other buckets were missing. He frowned. Quinn had said she was leaving to get more water quite a while ago.
How long had it been?
Surely she and Ben should have been back by now?

“Nathaniel, have you seen Quinn?”

“Not for half an hour or so. Maybe she’s out helping with the food?”

“Maybe.” But she wouldn’t have forgotten the water for the clinic, would she? An uneasy feeling settled in William’s stomach, though he tried to brush it off. They were all tired. She could have set the buckets down thinking it would only be for a minute, and then gotten caught up in some other task.

He stepped outside the tent, looking for them. Would Ben have forgotten to bring in his water, too?

Looking around as he went, he walked over to the canopy they’d set up as a kitchen and food-serving area. He didn’t see her anywhere.

“There’s still plenty of food, Prince William,” someone said, but he wasn’t hungry now. Without even acknowledging the young man who’d spoken to him, he walked past the food tables, to where people were stacking empty crates. He was just about to leave and start really searching the camp for her, when he saw Ben.

“Ben!” he called. “Where’s Quinn?”

Ben looked up at him, and his eyebrows knitted together. “Last I knew, she was in the clinic tent with you.”

 An icy feeling gripped William’s insides. “She said she was going to find you and go get some more water.”

“When?”

“I don’t know. At least half an hour ago. I haven’t seen her since.”

Ben went rigid, and William’s heart began beating at an erratic pace. “Quinn!” he yelled, following Ben as the guard took off running in the direction of the well.

*          *          *

It took Quinn only a few minutes of walking with the man to realize exactly how stupid she had been. Even if he did somehow have Annie somewhere, which, frankly, was impossible, she would have had much better luck getting to her safely if she had guards.

The sight of that little horse had sent all her logic flying out the window. Of course, as she’d walked, she had realized that it probably didn’t mean anything. Any number of people could have known that William made a horse like that to give to Quinn. Will’s cousin Gavin – the traitor – might easily have known enough about it to fake a replica of it. For what reason, she didn’t know, but it didn’t matter. It couldn’t have been real. In the black night, there was no way she would have been able to tell the difference.

Annie was safe at home in a different world. There was no chance she was here. And now Quinn had gone and gotten captured, putting herself and probably everyone else in danger. It was possible Tolliver had sent this man after her – the thought of what he might do to her made her insides begin to twist in nausea, and she forced herself to not think about that right now. Maybe she could still get out of here.

“Don’t even think about screaming,” the man said, flashing a glint of steel at his belt, and she bit back the one she’d been about to let loose. They were too far away now. Someone might hear her, but they wouldn’t be able to get to her in time. She wondered what her chances were of getting the knife away from him.

“Is my little sister all right?” she asked.

The man didn’t respond; he just kept walking, but the shadow that slid over his face, even in the moonlight, sent a chill down her spine. Crap. She’d told him something he hadn’t known. She was relieved, though, at what his face hadn’t shown. She was pretty sure he didn’t know anything about Annie; if she was here, she was probably okay.

“Who sent you?” she demanded. 

Again, he didn’t respond; this time it was as if he hadn’t even heard her, though he might have started walking even faster through the thick woods. Quinn found herself struggling to keep up as they made their way in the darkness. There was no trail; they dodged rocks and branches in the dark night. They were headed northeast of the city, a direction she had never traveled before. She had no idea what this part of Eirentheos held. From everything she could tell, it was utter, unpopulated wilderness.

The man didn’t touch her; he was, in fact, maintaining a careful distance between them, which she thought was odd, but she was grateful. More than once, she thought about ducking away from him, making a run for it back through the trees, but something told her he would be more than capable of stopping her if she tried.

And what if Annie was out here somewhere? Could someone have gone into her world and kidnapped her little sister? If Tolliver was armed with the right information, she certainly wouldn’t put something like that past him. The question was: did he have enough information to be able to do that?

After several more questions that failed to yield any acknowledgement from him at all, she determined not to speak to him again. It was probably best, anyway. She’d already given him more information than she’d meant to with her question about Annie; it wouldn’t be wise to let more slip. 

By the time they’d been walking for what must have been over an hour, keeping up a conversation would have been nearly impossible for her anyway; she wasn’t dressed or equipped for this kind of hiking, and she’d already been exhausted and thirsty before they’d started. She started having trouble keeping up, and a new wave of dizziness was hitting her every few minutes now.

When a slow, sickening wave of heat rolled over her and stayed, making her suddenly sweaty and sticky, she nearly started crying.

The man didn’t even glance back at her when he opened the leather water pouch that hung from his belt, taking a long drink as he walked.

He finally slowed his frantic pace just a little when they hit a particularly dense, forested area. She couldn’t see anything except the outlines of trees everywhere. He was slow enough now that she was only a few steps behind him.

When they reached an area where they had no choice but to climb up a small, rocky ridge, she saw her opportunity. As he crouched close to the rocks, beginning to climb from the first small ledge to the top of the ridge, she reached for the knife at his belt.

Just as her hand closed around the hilt, his weight shifted, bumping her arm against his leg. In nearly the same instant, his hand was around her wrist, holding it tight.

“Try it again, and I’ll take your hand off,” he spat. “I don’t care if I am supposed to bring you back in one piece. You can live with one hand.” With that, he shoved her away from him.

The motion disrupted her equilibrium on the small ledge, and every muscle in her body contracted as she struggled to maintain her balance. But in the next second, another wave of the dizziness hit, and she lost it. Her foot slipped from the ledge, skidding and sliding down the rocks, taking her whole body with it. As she was scrambling to right herself, her leg scraped hard against the rocks just before she landed with a violent thud on the uneven ground below.

The man, who had finished his climb up the ridge, stared down at her impassively as she took an inventory of the damage.

Her hands were skinned, but not too badly. Her ribs were going to be bruised, for sure, and maybe her back, too, but she didn’t think it was serious. There was an abrasion on her left arm that was painful and damp to the touch, slowly oozing blood – so much for William’s careful effort at putting that arm back together after the last time she’d gotten hurt. She’d probably just scarred it permanently.

 The real damage, though, was to her left leg. She must have slammed her leg against one of the rocks really hard to cause the deep, ragged cut that was there now, filled with dirt and pebbles.

“A little help?” she called up to the man.

“So you can try to grab my knife again? I don’t think so.”

“What about bringing me back in one piece?”

“You are.” He didn’t seem particularly worried. Of course, if it was Tolliver who’d given those orders, she supposed he wouldn’t be upset so long as she was alive and able to talk – not that she’d ever answer Tolliver’s questions.

“Fine,” she muttered under her breath. The gash on her leg needed pressure to stop the bleeding, and she didn’t have anything. She inspected her pants, and found one of the new tears. Pushing her fingers through the hole, she was preparing to rip off a section of the material when, unexpectedly, something soft landed on the ground by her feet.

“Use that,” the man grumbled.

She reached for the object, and was surprised when she unfolded a large square of cloth. Sighing, she glanced up at the man, who was now more a mystery than he had been. He certainly seemed not to like her – she wondered who had given him orders not to harm her.

She wrapped the bandage tightly around the wound on her leg and then struggled to stand up. The man was silent and unmoving as she worked her way up the ridge, the palms of her hands stinging each time she touched the rocks.

She was desperately thirsty now and more than a little lightheaded. And hot. Even though the night was cool, she was pouring sweat. Her lips were more parched than they’d ever been, and the skin on her face felt tight.

*          *          *

“Scary looking, isn’t it?” Linnea said, coming to stand next to Thomas on one of the third-story balconies of the castle.

He nodded, still staring off at the reddish-orange glow on the hill to the west of them. The plume of smoke was visible even in the darkness, obscuring the light from the stars. “Father said that it sounds like they’re getting some of it contained, though, and they may have a fire line established before the homes again. How are the little ones?”

“Asleep. Alice was hard to get down, though. She’s really upset about the fire. Mother’s still sitting with her, I think. Mia said she was going to try to come and find you once Mother comes and takes Hannah from her.”

Thomas nodded, and she could see deep lines in his forehead. “Alice worries a lot for such a little girl.”

“She’s so much like William.”

He nodded again.

“Are you going to come inside soon?”

He stared out at the fire again for a long moment before he answered. “It’s hard to be the one at home waiting, isn’t it?”

She reached up to squeeze her twin’s shoulder, hearing his answer in the question. He’d be out here until Ben, William, and Quinn came riding up the road and into the courtyard, safe back at the castle for the night. He placed his hand over hers, and patted it gently. “Do you want me to bring you anything?” she asked.

He shook his head, not taking his eyes away from the scene in front of him.

“Do you want me to go inside and leave you alone?”

After a short pause, he shook his head.

Linnea leaned her elbows on the top of the high wall of the balcony, and looked out at the horizon. The flickering of the flames really was mesmerizing. If it hadn’t been so frightening, it would have been interesting to watch the orange and red glow spread slowly back over the hillsides, making tiny jumps – probably as it moved from one tree to the next. She shuddered at the thought of what the rolling hills would look like once this was over. Already today there had been more birds than usual in the skies, more small animals roaming the trees behind the castle.