William darted into the house ahead of the two guards carrying Thomas. Quinn followed him, grabbing a candle from a counter in the pantry, and lighting it as they made their way down the dark stairs.
In the basement again, she used the candle to light several more, so that William could find what he was looking for in the alcove.
They opened crate after crate. William would dig through one, pull out what he thought he needed, and then shove the crate out of the way, across the open floor. Both of them were past words, needing this task to keep them from falling apart completely.
Quinn took a crate that held only blankets, and pulled them all out, stacking them neatly along the wall, and then started packing the pile of supplies that William was building inside of it. His shoulders shook as he worked. Once she’d gotten everything he’d laid out so far inside the crate, she walked over to him. She laid her hand gently on his shoulder and he turned to face her, silent tears streaming down his face.
“He’s here,” she said. “And he’s going to be okay.”
He nodded, and she pulled him into her arms, embracing him tightly until his shaking subsided.
“We’re going to get through this,” she said. “Let’s get this stuff upstairs. We can always come back down for more if we need it.”
Upstairs, the dining room table had been covered with several white sheets. Thomas lay on top of it, thankfully back asleep, while Nathaniel and Lily worked busily around him. Nathaniel looked up as William set the large crate down near the table.
“Thank you,” he said. “Did you find any morphine?”
Quinn held up the small glass vials she’d carried in her hands.
“Thank you,” Lily said, taking it from her.
“We’re going to need some blood on hand before we begin,” Nathaniel said, looking at William. “Hopefully what you and I can give will be enough – Lily and Graeme are so weak already … and I don’t know if anyone else is a match.”
“What about me?” Quinn asked. “I don’t know if I’m a match, either. But if there’s a way to check…”
Nathaniel looked at her, deep emotion in his gray eyes. “You’re a match, Quinn. You’re underage…”
“What difference does that make right now?” Her voice was harsher than she’d intended it to be.
“You’re right. It doesn’t make any difference right now,” he acquiesced.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” William asked, as he helped her get settled on a couch, propping pillows behind her back.
“I’m sure,” she said. “Thomas needs it.”
“And you don’t want to wait for Nathaniel to do it?”
“No, it’s okay. He’s busy finding out if anyone else is a match, and we need to do this as quickly as possible. You’ve stuck me with needles plenty of times already. You’re not getting scared to do it now, are you?”
William rolled his eyes, though she didn’t quite believe him.
“Good, because if you were scared, then I might really get freaked out.” She smiled.
“Are you scared?” As he spoke, he was wrapping a rubber tourniquet tightly around her upper arm.
“Um…” She took a deep breath. “You have seen me around needles before, right?”
He chuckled. “You’re no worse than me.”
“I’ve heard that, but I think I’d have to see it to believe it.” She swallowed. “Is it going to hurt?”
“No,” he said, rubbing the inside of her forearm softly with his thumb. “One little pinch, that’s all.”
She nodded and tried to relax while he cleaned the spot on the inside of her elbow.
Just then, Nathaniel came down the hallway. “It looks like it’s just us,” he said. “Nobody else is a match.”
“Will that be enough?” she asked, looking up at his worried eyes.
“It will have to be. We’ll do what we can. We need to do the surgery as soon as possible, before his bone sets any further that way. We can’t wait for anyone else to return.”
Her hands were starting to get sweaty, and she could feel her pulse behind her ears. “Okay, William, just do it already!” she snapped.
To her surprise, he laughed.
“What’s so funny?”
“I told you it wasn’t going to hurt.”
“What?”
She glanced down at her arm, but he had just finished covering it with a small white towel.
“It’s better if you can’t accidentally look at it,” he said. “Trust me.”
“Drink your juice, though,” Nathaniel said, handing her a tall glass from a nearby table. “It takes a little while, and sometimes it makes people lightheaded.”
She sipped obediently at the sweet liquid, amazed again at William’s skill, a feeling that hit her often.
“Okay, Will, your turn,” Nathaniel said. “Might as well get it done now.”
She knew that if Thomas were out here, he would be laughing at how quickly the color drained from William’s face. Quinn just wanted to hug him. She stretched her free hand toward him as far as she could. “It’s not going to hurt,” she said.
“He knows.” Nathaniel chuckled. “I think it’s the idea of needles for him more than anything.”
William shrugged, grinning sheepishly at her, though he was paler than she’d ever seen him.
In the end, Quinn actually did better with the blood donation than William did. He survived the needle perfectly, but while she was completely fine afterward, he had to lie on the couch for quite a while, waiting for the color to return to his face. Lily had to come and collect the blood from Nathaniel while Graeme watched Thomas.
Aside from not feeling well, William was upset. Nathaniel, and Lily refused to allow him to be part of Thomas’ surgery, which they were in the back of the house preparing for now.
Nathaniel had been apologetic, telling William that he knew how hard it would be, but that it would be even harder if he was in the room. Thomas’ operation was not going to be easy. While the supplies they had included several kinds of strong painkillers, there was nothing in the stash that would put Thomas completely under. He would be medicated and groggy, but not all the way asleep while they re-broke his femur and two bones in his left arm.
Lily had been definitive, telling William that she would prefer if he wasn’t in the house at all while it happened, but if he insisted, then he had best stay far away from the back of the house. She didn’t care how well-trained he was; he was still underage, and anyway, it was inappropriate for him to participate in his own brother’s surgery. The two guards had been given explicit directions about keeping him from even approaching the hallway.
So Quinn sat with him, trying to keep him calm. She, herself, was terrified, but determined to keep her end of the bargain – if William was going to freak out, she would not. If she needed to, she would just sit here in silence, next to him on the couch all night.
She curled up on the end of the couch and leaned against the cushions, glass of juice in her hand. William’s glass sat on the table, barely touched, while he leaned forward with his head in his hands, but she was done suggesting that he might feel better if he sat back and actually drank it.
She thought about how much their relationship had changed in just a few short days. Was it really just over a week ago that she’d flown into a rage when he’d come into the library? In some ways it felt like that was another lifetime. This trip had changed her perspective on everything.
Although there was a part of her, in the back of her mind that obsessed constantly over what was going to happen when she got back home – that wondered exactly how much trouble she was going to be in, there another part with a different worry that was growing every day she spent here. How was she just going to go back to her life after this – after everything that had happened?
And now … there was this whole thing with William. She still had no idea what to think about the kiss they had shared yesterday in the basement – had it only been yeste
rday? They hadn’t discussed it at all, but it was there, hanging over them, the fact that it had happened. She had been a little afraid that once got out of the basement things would be strained between them – that he would pull away from her, and into himself, as he’d done so often before. But it hadn’t happened. If anything, she felt closer to him than ever.
It pained her now, watching him suffer over his brother. She knew that William was closer to his younger brother than he was to anyone, even more than Nathaniel, who he lived with almost all the time.
And, of course, she had kissed Thomas, too. Or he had kissed her, if there was a difference. It wasn’t like she had pushed him away. What had he meant by that kiss? And what had she? Thomas had won her over from the first minute she’d known him; she’d been enchanted immediately by his warm, loving personality. She knew, now, that she loved him, but she wasn’t sure in what way, wasn’t sure at all what she wanted that kiss to mean.
She wasn’t sure about anything.
Down the long hallway, there was a sudden, heart-rending scream. She looked over at William, and saw him staring back at her, knowing that the terror and pain in his eyes was reflected in her own.
The surgery had begun.
~ 25 ~
Stephen and Charlotte
SOMETIME WELL BEFORE DAWN, Quinn stirred, waking them both up. It took William a minute to orient himself, though once he had, he wished he hadn’t. Memories of the awful events of the night before came flooding back to him. He didn’t remember falling asleep here on the couch next to Quinn; he only remembered her sitting close beside him, their hands clenched tightly together, as they waited for the terrible thing to be over.
It hadn’t lasted so long; probably less than twenty minutes passed before the anguished noises from the back room had quieted, but the sounds – and the things they imagined going along with them -- had left both of them breathless and sweating, hanging on to one another for dear life, praying for it to be over.
He glanced at the girl next to him now. Her gray eyes were wide open, bright points in the dim room – she was as awake as he was, and she looked as surprised as him to have woken this way.
A subtle motion from across the room caught his eye, and he looked over to see Nathaniel, watching them with interest, though he was more exhausted than William had ever seen him before. He looked as if he were having trouble keeping his head from falling over onto his chest.
Fear broiled in William’s stomach. “Thomas?” he choked out.
“He’s okay.” Nathaniel’s voice was barely more than a whisper. “Ellen and Henry returned late, and they are tending him now. Lily and Graeme had to go and sleep – this is all very difficult for them, too, and it was a long night. Thomas is resting, mostly. I could do with a few hours’ sleep as well. I imagine Ellen and Henry could, too.”
William nodded. The words his uncle didn’t say were communicated plainly enough with his eyes – he was going to be allowed this time with his brother.
“I’ll go and tell Ellen and Henry now, that we should go to bed while we have the chance.”
When Nathaniel had disappeared down the hallway, William turned to face Quinn. Her expression told him that she’d understood everything, which didn’t surprise him.
“Do you want me to give you some time alone with him?” she asked softly.
He paused for a moment, thinking about this. A week ago, there would have been no question about how he would have felt. He’d often found himself resenting her intruding in on things, on her insistence on being places she shouldn’t technically have been a part of. Now … the thought of her going into that room with him didn’t bother him at all. In fact, the idea of her being there was comforting somehow. She would understand.
And besides, he knew what it would do to her to be left out here alone, when waiting even five more minutes would feel like years to her, the way it would have to him. Yes, she understood.
“It’s okay,” he said. “I think I’d like to have you with me. And I know Thomas would, too.”
Nathaniel came to the end of the hallway again and nodded at them. “You can wake me if you need anything,” he said. “But everything we have is in that room. It’s not enough; we’re going to have to try and get more supplies today somehow. There’s a good record of what we’ve given him.”
“All right.”
He stood and walked over to his uncle, looking into his drawn, exhausted face. “Thank you, Nathaniel.”
Nathaniel nodded, and William reached out for him, wrapping his arms around his chest, suddenly remembering why he had always trusted him. If Nathaniel was keeping information from him, there had to be a reason, didn’t there? Thomas hadn’t trusted the information their father had held back, and look at what happened to him. He hugged Nathaniel tightly, truly grateful.
Once Nathaniel had gone back down the hall, William turned to Quinn. “Are you ready?”
She nodded, taking a deep breath as she came to stand beside him.
Inside the bedroom, Thomas lay on the narrow bed, which had been moved to the center of the room, giving those caring for him room to walk around and work. William was grateful that there had been enough in the supplies downstairs to place a single IV port in Thomas’ left hand. There wasn’t a drip, of course, aside from the blood, and he was sure there wasn’t much in the way of strong meds, but it was better than nothing. He knew enough about making solutions from scratch to at least keep his brother hydrated – and if they were lucky, comfortable.
Quinn stayed by the door, giving him space as he approached the bed. Thomas was asleep, though his eyelids fluttered every few seconds, and his breathing was shallow. He picked up the notebook beside the bed and ran his finger down the list of medications, and then, because he couldn’t resist, flipped back a page and scanned the notes from the surgery.
He swallowed hard, reading about the makeshift way they’d had to repair Thomas’ broken femur. He didn’t often wish that he practiced medicine on Earth. He loved his own world. And he loved using the scientific methods and technologies he had learned in his Earth studies along with the long history of traditions, and healing practices from here. But today, he wished for a fully-equipped hospital with a general anesthesiologist and some metal pins and screws.
On Earth, Thomas would probably have full use of this leg back in six months. Here… Well, William wasn’t going to worry about it now. They would do what they could do, and he would pray about the rest.
He motioned to Quinn, who still stood by the door, letting her know it was okay if she came over; he pulled a chair right up next to the bed for her, so she could watch Thomas while he slept. Neither of them spoke, though Quinn watched him carefully – he could tell that she had seen the change in his expression as he’d read over the notes. William squeezed her shoulder gently, and she reached her hand up to his as they looked at Thomas’ pale face.
He was so thin. Much thinner than the last time he’d seen him. Lily and Graeme both looked the same way – their skin too white, almost translucent, and bones prominent in places they shouldn’t be. His stomach turned as he tried not to think about what the three of them had gone through during their captivity in Norland. He’d been raised not to hate anyone, but the thick feeling that rose in his chest now refused to be subdued.
“If I ever get my hands on the guy who did this to him…” he whispered.
Quinn squeezed his hand and nodded.
Thomas blinked, struggling to open his eyes. “Not if I get to him first,” he mumbled, so quietly that until Quinn chuckled, he wasn’t sure he’d hear him correctly.
“Hey buddy, how are you doing?” he asked, kneeling down next to him.
Thomas was silent for several seconds before he strained to whisper an answer. “Been better.”
Ever so carefully, William took his brother’s one uninjured hand in his own, not wanting to move him at all. “I’m sure. I’m so sorry… If I had known...”
“It’s not your fault�
�� Ow.”
“Where does it hurt?”
“Everywhere.” He tried to force a half-grin, but he didn’t quite make it.
Then his eyes landed on Quinn, and they widened. “Hey beautiful,” he whispered. “What are you doing here?”
She paused. “What? Like I wasn’t going to come back and look for you after what you did?” He could tell she was working to keep her tone light. A new kind of ache filled his chest at the way Thomas smiled at her as she leaned in closer to him, and he succeeded in the half-smile he’d been working so hard to accomplish a moment ago.
Thomas fell back asleep within minutes after William gave him another dose of morphine, a larger dose, probably, than was wise to do without a heart monitor and a pulse oximeter, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t going anywhere; he would stay right next to Thomas and watch him.
For a day where every minute felt like an hour, Quinn was stunned at how quickly the sun seemed to move across the sky outside the window of the room where she and William tended to Thomas, who drifted in and out of consciousness, depending on how medicated William was able to keep him.
She couldn’t believe that half the day had already gone by when Ellen poked her head into the room and asked if they wanted her to bring them something for lunch. William nodded, though neither of them felt very hungry. He also asked if Ellen could possibly make up some broth – he wanted to try to get something into Thomas, if at all possible.
When the door opened again a few minutes later, Quinn didn’t even look up, until she heard a voice that she didn’t expect to hear – but one she recognized immediately.
“William! Quinn!”
“Mother!” William flew across the room, straight into the arms of Queen Charlotte. “What are you doing here?”
“We came as soon as we heard that he was taken...” King Stephen stood in the doorway, just behind his wife, his face as panic-stricken as hers as they gazed at Thomas’ sleeping form on the bed. “How is he?
Roots of Insight (Dusk Gate Chronicles -- Book Two) Page 25
