Roots of Insight (Dusk Gate Chronicles -- Book Two)

by Breeana Puttroff

  By the time they heard the footsteps crossing the floor again, followed by a door closing, and then silence, Quinn was holding herself back from flying up the stairs and confronting Tolliver herself.

  “What is this?” She demanded as soon as they’d heard Tolliver and Ellen exit. She flew up from the floor, unable to sit still for even a second longer. Well past caution in the dark space, she paced back and forth, attempting to keep her head from exploding.

  “Shh, Quinn. You don’t know that it’s safe.”

  She knew he was right, but she didn’t care. “Ellen is Tolliver’s sister? Did you know this?”

  “No, I didn’t.” She hadn’t heard him stand, but his voice came from somewhere beside her, not from the floor.

  “Does Nathaniel? Marcus? Ben?”

  “I don’t know what anybody knows. Nathaniel has never brought me here before, ever. Although it seems like he’s been here more than once.” His voice was hard, strained.

  “Why is Tolliver here? What is going on, William? Is this some kind of a trap? We’re down in some dark dungeon and they’ve gone outside so they can set the place on fire?” She knew she was only getting louder, but she couldn’t do anything about it.

  “Hey, don’t start thinking like that.” His hand came out of the dark, tentatively feeling. He found the side of her upper arm first, right in the spot that was still a healing pink from her stitches. He paused, one finger gently tracing the new skin, and then lower, down past her elbow, all the way until his hand touched hers, and then he pulled her into his arms.

  She stood there, still as a statue, consumed half by a paralyzing mixture of terror and anger, and the other half by another emotion entirely. Though she was rigid and unmoving, his arms still wound around her back, holding her tight. “We can’t think like that, Quinn. We don’t know what’s going on; let’s not make this worse by jumping to conclusions. Let’s assume, for now, that we’re okay. That she’s hidden us only for our safety, and we’ll find out what this is all about later."

  She swallowed, trying to get past the fear and aggravation. Her fingers trembled. It wasn’t working, trapped here in the dark and silence.

  “It’s going to be okay,” he murmured against her hair.

  She snapped. “Since when are you so Susie Sunshine about everything?”

  He was absolutely still for just a second, before his entire body started shaking, in great, heaving motions coming from his chest. She was startled, confused, and then the silence was broken by his snorting, and the laughter overtook her, too.

  Once she started laughing, she couldn’t stop, and it was clear that neither could he. They both stood there shaking, trying to keep quiet, trying to stop, but every time one of them calmed down enough to take a breath, the other would snicker, and it would start all over again. Tears were rolling down her cheeks, her stomach was aching, and she could hardly breathe, but the laughter kept coming.

  Finally, finally, she managed to pull in a breath at the same time he did. They clutched each other’s arms tightly, trying to regain control. The hysterical giggles kept threatening to break through, but at last they were calm.

  William softly cleared his throat. “Only one of us can freak out at a time.”

  She nodded. “Agreed.”

  And then, somehow, his lips were against hers. Softly, at first, his bottom lip grazed her top one. She knew, in the part of her brain that was still capable of rational thought, that she should have been surprised by this, but it wasn’t thought that drove her now. Her mouth responded on its own, as did her hands, reaching around him, clutching the back of his thin shirt.

  He pulled her body closer with one hand, the other finding the back of her neck, under her hair, his fingers gently caressing, twining in her hair…

  There was a loud thud directly overhead. They jerked apart, as if shocked by a jolt of electricity. After an eternity, his hand found hers again, squeezing it tight as they listened to the footsteps crossing the floor above.

  ~ 22 ~

  Complications

  THE FOOTSTEPS OVER THEIR HEADS crossed the floor several times, going back and forth as William and Quinn stood frozen, holding hands while their hearts thudded in unison. After an immeasurable length of time, there was the sound of a door opening and closing, and then it was silent again.

  Still barely able to move or to think, Quinn reached out in desperation for the wall again, dragging him with her. As soon as she found it, she slumped down toward the floor, and he went with her.

  They sat there as the sounds of their breathing returned to normal, William squeezing her hand while she curled into a ball.

  “What was that?” she finally sputtered. She knew he would know that she hadn’t meant the noise upstairs.

  “I … I don’t know.”

  “That makes two of us.” Suddenly, she was grateful for the complete darkness, which hid her scarlet cheeks.

  His deep sigh filled the silence.

  She felt like her entire world had suddenly shifted to the left, or flipped completely upside down. She had just kissed William, or he had just kissed her, or … no … it had definitely been mutual.

  Thomas had kissed her; she knew that for certain now. Even with Zander, aside from a few, shy, tentative attempts on Quinn’s part, the actual kissing and other physical affection generally started and ended with him. She was always a willing participant, but … what had just happened with William was so entirely different that she couldn’t wrap her head around it.

  What stunned her even more was how they were both reacting now. They sat there, silent, right next to each other in the darkness, his hand wrapped around hers in a way that told her both that nothing had changed, and that everything had.

  “Well,” she whispered, after an eternity, “if we’re going to be stuck here for a while, we should see if there’s anything else down here, or if it’s just a crazy empty room.”

  “Okay.” He moved beside her, getting onto his hands and knees.

  She followed suit, crawling along the wall behind him, feeling around in every direction she could reach, but there was nothing. William finally reached the back wall, and there hadn’t been anything but smooth floor and walls the entire way. It was a large, dark, empty prison. They stopped again, in that corner. No sounds came from anywhere.

  Quinn curled her legs up under her, resting her head on her knees, trying to think. After a moment, her head snapped up. “The stairs, Will.”

  “What?”

  “We never checked out the area by the stairs. If they keep anything down here, it’s probably somewhere by the stairs.”

  He sighed. “If I had any idea where the stairs are now.”

  She chuckled, and then started crawling back along the wall. As she crawled the length of the floor, she guessed that the space ran most of the length of the upstairs, at least the entire kitchen and sitting room they’d been spending their time in. She had no idea how wide it was, but the soft sounds they were making disappeared into the darkness, rather than echoing back.

  When they reached the corner at the other end of the room, she turned and started edging toward where the stairs had to be. William stayed just barely behind her, breathing in quick gulps. Finally, she reached for the side of the wall, and her hand hit empty space. Stretching a little further, she felt the wood of the bottom step.

  “Okay,” she whispered, mostly to herself, though William’s attention was on her absolutely. “A little further.”

  And then, just past the stairs, her hand reached into a large open space, then landed on the unmistakable hard shape of a wooden box with a soft clunk. He was next to her instantly, sitting down with her as they worked to find the latch that would allow them to lift the lid.

  The box creaked open, and William’s arm appeared, blocking her way as she tried to reach in. She understood his protective sentiment, and in a different situation, she might have appreciated it, but her reaction now was to knock it out of the way.

&nb
sp; He chuckled softly in the darkness, and then shifted his body so that she could feel inside the box, too. It was heavy and full. The top of the box was filled with folds of heavy cloth in different textures; she couldn’t make sense of what it might be. But as they dug further, reaching under the material, she heard a muted metallic clunk. She reached toward the sound, but before she found the source, her fingers closed around something softer – something waxy.

  “I think I found a candle,” she whispered, pulling it out.

  William reached for her hand, feeling the object, then he let go and plunged back into the box. She set the candle down next to her, freeing both hands to help dig. The two of them lifted the heavy cloths out, tossing them aside. The bottom of the box was filled with different types of things, most of which she couldn’t identify by touch. She pulled out several more candles, laying them in a neat pile beside her next to the first one she had found.

  “Yes!” William whispered triumphantly. A second later, she heard a scraping sound against the stone floor, and then a tiny flame flickered to life.

  As small as it was, after being in complete darkness for so long, the light nearly blinded her as she fumbled for a candle from the stack beside her. Shielding her eyes with one hand, she stretched the candle toward William with the other, and a new point of light pierced the heavy black surrounding them.

  She blinked furiously as she watched him lean over the box with the candle. The dark forms and shapes started to make sense as she wiped the dripping water from her eyes, and she lifted out a metal candlestick. Wiping her sleeve across her eyes one more time, she reached and took the candle from him. His own eyelashes fluttered so rapidly she doubted he could see as well as she could. She set the candle carefully in the candlestick, and then moved the small light away from them, until their eyes could adjust.

  He nodded, rubbing his eyes as he blew out the match.

  After several minutes, when they were finally comfortable, William reached into the box for another candlestick. He lit another candle with the flame from the first one, and then handed the holder to her.

  The soft, orange glow from the flames transformed the space. She could see her own shape, stretched out in a shimmering dark shadow along the wall of the alcove under the stairs, William’s form next to hers. She let out a breath.

  The small storage area was filled to overflowing with crates and wooden boxes like the one they had just opened. The pile of heavy fabric they had set to the side now revealed itself as several thick blankets.

  The bottom of the box they had opened was lined with more candles, candlesticks, and a number of small wooden boxes filled with long matches. There were several other small metal objects in the box, but in the dim light she couldn’t tell what they were.

  Quinn and William worked together silently over the supplies. He lit several more candles while she folded the blankets neatly and laid them further to the side, creating more space to work.

  The next box they opened contained jars and jars of food. She raised her eyebrows, a creepy feeling in her stomach all over again, as she wondered exactly what this place was, and for how long people were intended to stay here.

  A nearby crate held several heavy down pillows, and another box was filled with more thick blankets. After they opened a box that was completely filled with more of the white waxy candles, they stopped digging; it appeared that they would keep finding more of the same kinds of supplies.

  She grabbed one of the lit candleholders from the floor, and started walking away from the stairs, back into the long room. William stood and grabbed his own candle to follow her.

  In the dim light, the room was much the same as she’d suspected, bare stone walls and a smooth, stone floor. It wasn’t quite as big as it had felt in the complete darkness, but it wasn’t small. Aside from the high sconces every few feet along the walls, it was completely empty.

  She was reaching up to set the candlestick she was holding in one of the sconces, when they suddenly heard a light patter of footsteps across the kitchen floor upstairs. They both froze, listening.

  The steps kept crossing, moving toward the back of the kitchen; when she strained to listen, she could hear separate patterns, one heavier than the other.

  “Two?” she mouthed to William.

  He nodded.

  As soon as the footsteps crossed back into where she was sure the pantry must be, she extinguished her candle. They flew around the room blowing out the candles they’d lit, and ran for the alcove under the stairs, their motions perfectly in sync, though they didn’t speak.

  William, holding a single candle, climbed over boxes until he reached one large enough to conceal them both. Quinn slid in next to him just as they heard the quiet whoosh of the trapdoor opening. He licked his thumb and forefinger, and pinched the tiny flame.

  Neither one of them breathed as the footsteps moved down the wooden steps. Though she didn’t dare to look up and over the wooden box that sheltered them, peering barely around the side of the box, she could see a feeble, flickering circle of light dissipating the shadows near the bottom of the stairs.

  The footsteps came to rest on the stone floor, and she was able to make out a shadow – no, two shadows, and two small flames. Needing to know, she stretched just a bit further around the box; William caught the back of her shirt and pulled her toward him.

  “Lady Quinn?” It was a woman’s voice, but Quinn couldn’t place the soft, almost whispering, tone. The small circles of light moved cautiously around the room. “Prince William?”

  “Where are you?” The second voice was male, and though he, too, spoke just barely above a whisper, it sounded more familiar to her. “It’s Andrew and Natalie. It’s all right. You’re safe.”

  “Who?” Quinn jumped at the sudden feeling of William’s breath, directly in her ear.

  She felt for his shoulder, to squeeze it gently. “I think it’s okay,” she whispered back.

  “We’re here,” she called quietly. “What are you doing here?”

  She had completely forgotten about the young couple she had met when she’d arrived here yesterday. She wondered what they had been doing all day today – she hadn’t seen either of them since she’d gone into the sitting room yesterday and announced that she needed to rest.

  Natalie had nodded reassuringly at her, and said something about seeing her at dinner, but Quinn had slept right through that.

  “We’re looking for you,” Andrew answered.

  William stood up, positioning himself in front of Quinn. “Who are you?”

  “My name is Andrew Gramble. This is my wife, Natalie. We are Friends of Philip.” He stretched the candle he was holding toward William, and used his free hand to pull the collar of his shirt to the side, revealing the small tattoo.

  William’s tension tangibly eased, and he started climbing back over the boxes to reach Andrew and Natalie. He held one hand up behind him, as if he were cautioning Quinn to stay back, but she ignored him and went around the box the other way.

  “What are you doing here? How did you find us?” William asked.

  “We’ve been here…” Andrew started.

  “I met them,” Quinn interrupted. “But I haven’t seen them since mid-afternoon yesterday. I completely forgot they were here.” She turned back to the couple. “Where have you been?”

  “My wife hasn’t been … feeling so well,” Andrew answered, putting his arms around Natalie protectively. Quinn looked over at her and saw how pale her face was in the dim candlelight. As she started to turn her attention back to William, she caught a glimpse of the young woman’s shadow, and was startled to notice a round bulge under her dress. “I’ve been staying with her in our room, hoping she can get some rest.”

  William nodded; she could tell that he’d seen Natalie’s condition before she had. “How did you find us?” he asked again.

  “Once we heart Tolliver, we were certain that Ellen would have shown you how to get down here. We hid in our room until
we saw through the window that Tolliver and Ellen left to go riding, and then we came.”

  “What is Tolliver doing here?” Quinn asked.

  Andrew shrugged. “I’m sure we will have a chance to hear about it later. He drops by to visit Ellen on occasion, I know. He still thinks he has some kind of influence over her.”

  “Doesn’t he? Did you know that Ellen is Tolliver’s sister?” William’s voice was rough.

  A deep crease appeared in Andrew’s forehead. “Yes, of course. Half-sister, anyway. Ellen is the daughter of Queen Sophia and King Jonathan. Did you not know?”

  William shook his head. “No. We had no idea. Why have we been brought to the home of Tolliver’s half-sister?”

  “There aren’t many safer safe houses than this one. There isn’t much I would put past Tolliver, but he won’t interfere with Ellen.”

  The frustration was building inside her. “If this house is so safe, then why are we locked in a dark basement with no information?”

  Not for the first time, Andrew’s expression was completely confused. He turned to look at his wife, mouthing something at her that she didn’t catch. Natalie shrugged her shoulders, her confusion matching his.

  William’s voice changed from puzzled to shocked. “Are you saying that Tolliver’s own sister is part of the resistance against him?”

  “Of course. Jonathan’s children wish to see the crown of Philotheum restored to where it belongs more than anything.”

  Quinn considered this.

  “Are you all right?” William’s concerned voice interrupted her thoughts. She followed his gaze, and saw immediately who he meant. Natalie, who had been standing there silently throughout the exchange, was now trembling. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead.

  William didn’t wait for her to answer; he pulled one of the crates from the alcove over to Natalie. “I’m all right … just tired,” she said, as William and Andrew both helped lower her down onto it.