Thorns of Decision (Dusk Gate Chronicles) (30 page)

Simon nodded, and then turned to Max. “Why don’t you go back to the castle and let Father and Mother know what we’re doing, tell them what happened here.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to take them instead?” Maxwell asked. “You could go back and be with Evelyn. I know you’ve only seen each other for a few minutes today.”

Simon shook his head; although his expression was bleak, his voice was strong. “It’s my responsibility, Max. She’s the wife of the heir to the throne; we need to learn how to do this. She’s already said she will come out to Mistle Village in the morning.” His gaze shifted to Quinn. “Which is what you could do, as well,” he said pointedly.

Her body tensed in the saddle; she understood his subtle message. If she was going to court a prince, she was going to have to expect to wait sometimes while he took care of his duties. A faint flush of heat rose in her cheeks, but then she suddenly felt the invisible weight of the pendants in her pocket, the impossible heaviness of the decision they implied.

“I’m going,” she said.

*          *          *

Complete darkness hit after they’d only been riding for about fifteen minutes, and they had to slow down their manic pace just to be safe. Even when they finally reached the wide, main thoroughfare, riding was a challenge in the black night. The moon hadn’t yet risen, and once they made it beyond the boundaries of the city, it was dark, and the dirt road was treacherous in many spots when they couldn’t see.

Quinn and Nathaniel stayed close behind Simon; none of them wanted to be separated in the dark. Their pace was much too slow for Quinn, whose stomach churned with more anxiety every minute they traveled. She wanted to ask Nathaniel what his connection was to Eldon Hardridge, but it didn’t feel like a good idea to discuss it in front of Simon right now.

Riding into Mistle Village was a strange experience. Before the shadowy outlines of the first houses came into view, Quinn could smell the smoke that still hung in the air – it wasn’t anything like the tangy fragrance of a campfire, which was one of her favorite smells – this smoke was ominous; the scent of fear and destruction.

A heavy feeling settled in her chest as they rode into the town, taking a different path than the one to the clinic that was familiar to her. Before long, the faint glow from many lanterns led them into a campsite. Several small tents surrounded a much-larger one, which Quinn guessed was the makeshift clinic that Simon had described.

At the sound of their approach, a familiar figure emerged from the tent.

“Essie!” Nathaniel called, dismounting even before his horse had come all the way to a stop.

From Essie’s posture alone, it was obvious that the news wasn’t good. Quinn cast a heavy glance toward Simon as the two of them left their horses next to Nathaniel’s, and reached the opening of the clinic just in time to hear the last part of the conversation.

“...about two hours ago, not long after you and Max left,” Essie was saying, and Quinn felt like someone had emptied a bucket of ice cubes inside her chest. “I’ve been sitting with Connie. The children are with the Welshes.”

Nathaniel’s hands shook as he stepped inside the tent, and Quinn had to fight back an unexpected urge to follow him in.

Her muscles tightened in anger. This wasn’t right, any of it. The Hardridges hadn’t ever done anything to anybody, besides support the cause of uniting Eirentheos and Philotheum. All they’d wanted was peace, for things to be the way they were meant to be.

“Where’s William?” she asked.

“He was very upset,” Essie said. “He did everything he could think of to try and save that man. He promised not to go too far – if I had to guess, you’d find him somewhere near the clinic site.”

The
clinic site
. The idea that Essie had to make a distinction, that there wasn’t still just “the clinic” caused a sick feeling in Quinn’s stomach.

“I’ll walk you,” Nathaniel said quietly, reappearing through the flap door holding two lanterns.

She thought about objecting, but then decided it wasn’t worth it to cause anyone any additional worry tonight, so she silently accepted a lantern, and they set off in the direction of the strongest smell of smoke.

Nathaniel led her toward the clinic in silence, and she could sense how upset he was. Now wasn’t the time to ask him anything.

Before they even reached the site where the clinic had once stood, thick wafts of smoke obscured their vision, billowing gray clouds dancing in the lamplight. They weren’t going to be able to see anything in the darkness. They curved to the west before they hit the biggest wall of smoke, heading for the trail that connected the clinic to the main road.

Quinn saw it first, the feeble flickering of another lantern several yards off the path. She turned to Nathaniel, and he nodded, setting his own lantern down, and letting her go alone.

He was curled into a ball near the lantern, with his knees against his chest, and his head buried in his arms. She couldn’t swallow back the hard lump that came into her throat at the sight of him.

“Will?” she said softly, when she was still about ten feet away.

His head snapped up; she’d startled him. Even in the dim light, she could see where his tears had cleared streaky paths down his soot-covered face. At first, she didn’t say anything, just set her lantern down, and got down on the ground right in front of him, crossing her legs and reaching for his hand.

He allowed her to take it, and they sat there for several minutes, not speaking in words, but understanding each other anyway.

“I wasn’t expecting you,” he finally said. “Max said he was going to take you back to the castle.”

She snorted.

He closed his eyes for a moment, shaking his head slightly, and the corners of his mouth turned up in a half-smile. “Yeah, you’re right. I should have known better. I just ... I guess I didn’t want to get my hopes up. This is a little too much to ask of you.”

Her heart gave an unexpected little leap at his words. “So you’re not upset that I’m here?”

“No, of course not,” he said, his eyes widening. “I mean, I’m a mess ...” he looked down at his clothes, and wiped at his cheek with his sleeve. “This isn’t exactly how I wanted you to see me when you got back, but you can’t imagine how much I’ve missed you.”

“Here,” she said, pulling his handkerchief out of her pocket and holding it out to him, her hands shaking at the overpowering emotion she felt at being here with him.

“I’ve got one,” he said, smiling and reaching into his own pocket. “I just haven’t been using it. It’s been a long day.”

“Are you doing okay?” she asked.

“No, I’m not. But I’m functioning now. I’m glad you didn’t find me an hour ago, but I’m even more glad that you’re here now.” He uncurled from his ball, and leaned forward to kiss her on top of her head.

Her hand found the side of his face, and she traced his cheek with her finger, then cupped it in her hand. “Me too,” she said.

He kissed her gently on the lips, but the current running between them right then was stronger than anything Quinn had ever imagined feeling. They didn’t need the kiss, or words; in that moment she knew that he needed her as badly as she needed him. As his arms wrapped around her, she felt an overwhelming relief, as if she’d been holding her breath for a long time and was finally coming up for air. They curled tightly together there on the grass, both looking up at the sky, trying to make out the fuzzy shapes of constellations through the haze, each one holding the other for dear life.

 “Nathaniel’s just over there,” she told him, after quite a while.

“That’s probably a good thing,” he said, taking her hand and sitting back up. “Although we might have to tell him about us after this.”

“He knows,” she said quietly. “He asked if we were ... courting, and I told him that we sort of were.”

He put his finger under her chin, turning her eyes to meet his in the dim light. “We are, Quinn. You don’t have to be unsure about that part.”

“I still don’t...”

“I know, sweetheart. You still can’t make any promises. How did things go with your mom, anyway? What happened?”

“Quinn? William?” Nathaniel’s voice called from the blackness. “We should head back in a minute. Everyone will be worried, and I want to know more about what’s going on.”

At the sudden reminder of the reality of the situation, William deflated like a popped balloon, and she watched him actually grow smaller. She was right to have come here tonight.

“We can talk about that later,” she said, taking her lantern in one hand, and his hand in the other. “We should go.”

In the light of the morning, Mistle Village was an even sadder sight than it had been during the night. The smoke was slowly beginning to clear, but there was still a light haze everywhere. The mood in the encampment was somber as they began making plans for a funeral for Eldon Hardridge, and started the long process of cleaning up the clinic site.

With little to do as a healer, William decided to keep himself occupied by helping Quinn look after the youngest Hardridge children, all of whom were too little to really understand what was going on.

He played catch with the twin boys, who were five, while the tiniest ones, George and Arianna, played in the grass near Quinn’s feet.

Knowing that there would be enough sad days ahead for the children, they had all decided to wait as long as possible before telling the youngest ones. The older children were with their mother now.

Though he tried to keep a smile in front of the children, his heart was heavy. He’d done everything he could yesterday for their father, and in the end it hadn’t mattered. Discouragement and anger mingled in his chest, regularly threatening to overflow.

Nathaniel was more upset than William had expected. He’d barely been talking to anyone. Quinn had told him that Nathaniel had known Eldon Hardridge, which surprised William. He’d always imagined that since he’d traveled so much with Nathaniel that he had met most of the people Nathaniel knew. Of course, their time in Philotheum had disabused him of that notion; he should have known that there were a lot more things he didn’t know about the man he’d always called “uncle”.

It surprised him how much better he felt, though, having Quinn back. The last ten days without her had been different in ways that he had not expected. They’d never been separated like that since they’d started courting. When she’d first decided to go back, he’d been a little sad at the idea, but had figured that it wouldn’t really matter much; he’d been here without her for most of his life.

He had a hard time understanding how things could have changed so much for him in such a short time, how he could have gone from being completely okay with being on his own, here, in his own world with his own family, to spending ten days feeling lost without this girl.

It was dangerous territory, he knew. Quinn couldn’t make any promises to him, and he couldn’t make any to her. Even if her father was from this world, it didn’t mean that she would stay here. Her family, her life, was all in a different
world
. He couldn’t ask her to give that up – could he?

Four days ago, he had been sitting and chatting with Thomas when his brother had asked him if he would ever consider giving up his life here in Eirentheos to be with Quinn. At that moment, he’d realized just how far out of his depth he was with this girl – because he’d actually considered the idea.

Now that she was back, sitting only a few yards away from him, the question pressed even harder against his heart. Could he give up his whole world for her? As he watched little Arianna pick wildflowers and carry them back to a smiling Quinn, he thought that maybe he could.