Blooms of Consequence (Dusk Gate Chronicles - Book Four)

by Breeana Puttroff

  “Can I go back now?” William asked.

  “No.” Stephen’s voice was firm. “Jacob is going to go with me to find Marcus and get some more people looking for her. You are going to stay here tonight and sleep. Thomas and Linnea?”

  “We’ve got him, Father,” Thomas said.

  “We’ll find her, William. I promise to come and get you if anything changes, but we will find her.”

  Jacob and her father disappeared without another word. As soon as they were gone, Linnea turned to William. “Wha. . . ”

  The look that Thomas shot her stopped the words cold. He stepped right in front of William, moving so that he was making eye contact. “When is the last time you ate, Will?”

  William’s lips were a tight, straight line as he shrugged.

  “I’ll go get someone to fix a plate,” Linnea said quickly. As much as she preferred to be in the center of things, she could see that she needed to leave her brothers alone right now. Thomas was the only one in the family who really got Will, who knew how to deal with him when he was upset.

  * * *

  “You need a shower, Will,” Thomas said, after Linnea had disappeared.

  William shook his head. “I need to find her.”

  “What are you going to do? Go riding off in the dark by yourself?”

  “She’s probably scared.”

  Thomas felt his own chest tighten at that thought. He took a deep breath, willing himself to stay calm for his brother’s sake. “She’s probably just off helping somebody with something, Will. You know how she is. If there’s a kitten up a tree, Quinn will go. Ben and Nathaniel have probably already found her, and they’ll be riding up here any minute. You’re going to want to hug her, and you stink. Go take a shower.”

  He didn’t get a chuckle out of his brother, but at least William followed him across the hall, into the room where they usually both slept. Thomas walked him all the way into the bathroom, even turning on the water, and setting the little bottle of calming lavender-and-vanilla oil on the ledge next to the soap.

  “Take your time, Will. She’s going to need you to be calm and put together.”

  Outside the bathroom, Thomas had to stop for a second to take a few deep breaths of his own. Today, for the first time, it had struck him just how difficult it must have been for everyone when he had been the one missing. He hadn’t realized, when he’d taken off on his own, what he might be doing to the people he loved at home, the ordeal they’d been through. Surely after that, Quinn wouldn’t be so stupid as to wander off on her own, would she?

  Fear for her clenched his stomach and he sank to the floor.

  A soft knock at the door had him up again almost immediately. He tried to compose his expression as he went to answer it.

  “Thomas? Is everything okay? I heard your father went rushing downstairs. . .” Mia’s green eyes were filled with concern.

  He shook his head. “No, Mia, I don’t think so.”

  Mia’s expression changed from concerned to fearful as he led her over to the couch and told her what was going on. He knew Mia was particularly fond of Quinn. “What can I do?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. I guess right now we need to try and stay calm until the morning – try and keep William calm, especially.”

  “He’s really in love with her, isn’t he?”

  “More than he even realizes, I think. I don’t know how she puts up with him, but she’s definitely the best thing that’s ever happened to him.”

  Mia punched him playfully on the shoulder. “You know you love him.”

  He smiled. “I do, Mia.” He stretched out his hand to take hers, playing with her fingers for a minute before looking back up at her. “I kind of like you, too, you know?”

  She leaned in and rested her head on his shoulder. “I ‘kind of’ like you too, Thomas.” They sat there like that for a few minutes before she turned back to him. “You should probably go and talk to your mother. I don’t think she knows what’s going on yet.”

  * * *

  Although he had to fight the urge to just bolt out the door several times, William forced himself to stay in the shower until most of the muscles in his back and chest had loosened at least a little bit. He went through several washcloths scented with the calming oil, trying very hard not to think anything negative about where Quinn might be right now.

  What Thomas had said was true. If she’d run across someone who appeared to need some kind of help, she wouldn’t have hesitated. She could still show up tonight, and act like they were all crazy for being so worried. He was going to have a major conversation with her about this. . .

  When he finally walked back out into the room, he was relieved to find that he was alone. A covered silver tray was sitting on the low table in front of the couch, and he felt a wave of appreciation for Thomas, who knew him well enough that he’d probably convinced Linnea to leave it there and give him some space.

  He didn’t feel hungry, but he lifted the lid anyway, and found a smoked ruska and cream cheese sandwich, on his favorite soft bread, and a small bowl of glasberries – Quinn’s secret favorite. Exhausted as he was, he just couldn’t bring himself to sit down, so he carried the sandwich with him and paced the room, trying to work off some of his nervous energy. He couldn’t bring himself to touch the fruit.

  Finally, he realized that it was useless. Nothing was going to calm him down. Nothing except Quinn, safe in front of him, wrapped in his arms. Without even realizing how he got there, he found himself in her room, staring down at her neatly made bed, the deafening silence echoing in his head.

  The quiet sound of the door closing woke him. He didn’t know how long he’d been asleep, lying there on Quinn’s bed, his face buried in her pillow – he was so grateful that it hadn’t been a washing day; the pillowcase smelled of her.

  He rubbed his eyes, squinting to make out the silhouette making its way across Quinn’s dim room, lit only by a few small nightlights along the wall, close to the floor.

  “I didn’t mean to wake you,” his mother said quietly, setting something down on the night table – a glass of water.

  “It’s okay.”

  The bed shifted as Charlotte climbed up beside him. “We’ll find her, William,” she said, softly combing her fingers through his hair. “We’ll find her, and everything will be all right.”

  Her words weren’t convincing, especially not in her slightly raspy voice, which told him that she’d been crying, but he decided to believe her anyway, and buried his face back in the Quinn-scented pillow, closing his eyes once more.

  6. Morning

  Quinn stared down at the plume of smoke from her seat on the hillside. Dandelions quivered in the grass at her feet, their shadows dancing in the sunlight.

  “Interesting view, isn’t it, milady?”

  She frowned, staring up at the white-haired man who had appeared beside her. He sat down in the grass next to her, and smiled kindly.

  “I don’t know if I’d call it interesting,” she said. “Terrifying, maybe. Ugly.” She pointed up at the thick, black clouds at the sky, just in time for a small piece of ash to come drifting down at her feet.

  Alvin reached down and picked up the charred flake. At one point, it might have been a leaf. It crumbled in his hand.

  “Ugly,” she reiterated.

  He looked at the black flakes – contemplating them, it looked like. “I suppose it is a bit ugly right now. It won’t always be. Much of what the fire is burning away is old, dead wood and debris. Once it’s gone, new plants will be able to grow, stronger and healthier.”

  “What about the trees and plants that are being destroyed now?”

  He turned to look at her, his ice-blue eyes piercing into her. “You can’t have both. You can try to hold on to the part of the forest that’s filled with dry, rotting wood, knowing that at any minute it could burst into flame, or you can let it go, suffer through the fire, and then let the new, good stuff grow in.”

  “We�
�re not talking about a forest fire anymore, are we?”

  “Were we ever?” His gaze never shifted from hers.

  “What are we talking about, then?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Coy doesn’t suit you, Lady Quinn.”

  She blinked.

  “It rarely befits those who are born to be leaders, when it comes right down to it.”

  “So this is about me making my decision. Dandelions or roses. Old wood or new. Take my throne, or pack it in and go home.”

  “When are you going to stop pretending – to yourself and to everyone else – that you haven’t made the decision already?” His blue eyes fell now on the tattoo on her chest, visible through the thin strap of her camisole – she didn’t remember coming out here wearing only that. But then again, she didn’t remember coming out here at all. . .

  “When are you going to stop accusing me of pretending things I don’t mean to be pretending?” she asked, still remembering the last uncomfortable conversation she’d had with him.

  “Beloved, perhaps I’ll be able to stop asking such questions when you stop doing the things you don’t mean to be doing, and start doing the things you mean to.” He leaned down then, and kissed the top of her head, with such absolute gentleness that she could never be certain that it had actually happened.

  “The choice, milady, is, as ever, yours.”

  * * *

  The room was still dark when William awakened. Although there was no way he could have slept for more than a few hours, he was wide awake. He lifted his head from Quinn’s pillow, squinting to find the source of the noise that had roused him.

  “How long have you two been in here?” he asked. Thomas and Linnea were both sitting on Quinn’s couch, their outlines just visible in the low light from coming from the floorboards.

  “Not long,” Thomas said, standing and walking over to him. He carried something in his hands, and when he reached the edge of the bed, he held it out to William.

  “Thanks,” William said, accepting the still-hot mug of tea. He closed his eyes and breathed in the comforting steam before taking a sip. He studied his brother for a moment, noticing that he was fully dressed, in different clothes than yesterday. “Is there news?” he asked.

  “Nothing,” Thomas answered. “Father sent several more guards to search the entire camp, and they haven’t turned up anything. Nobody has seen her. They’re going to search again at first light and then decide what to do.”

  “So what are you two doing in here?”

  “We’re going to search, too. We’re ready to leave right now.”

  “Father’s all right with that?”

  Thomas shrugged. “We dealt with staying here yesterday without complaining. We were needed at the castle with the children. We’d probably have gotten in the way down at your clinic. But this is different. I’m not sitting around in the castle when Quinn is missing. We’re going to find her and bring her back today. I don’t care where she is.”

  Fifteen minutes later, the three of them were down at the stables saddling their horses.

  “Where is Ben, anyway?” Linnea asked, as she climbed up on Snow, her white mare. “Did he ever come back from the camp last night? He’s the one who was supposed to be guarding Quinn.”

  “I don’t know.” Thomas was mounting his own horse, Storm.

  “He was distraught,” William said. “Nearly as much as I was. Quinn was supposed to ask him to go get water with her at the well. I don’t know why she didn’t.” His throat was suddenly tight again, and moisture was threatening behind his eyes.

  “Are you sure she didn’t?” Linnea asked, a strange sound in her voice.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean – what if we can’t trust Ben as much as we thought we could? What if he knows more than he’s telling? We trusted Paul once, too, you know.”

  A sick feeling ripped through William’s insides. “He’s a Friend of Philip! He’s Marcus’ son.”

  “I know,” Linnea said, closing her eyes. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that – it’s just hard to trust anything right now, you know?”

  William didn’t know. Right now, he didn’t know anything.

  “Oh, stop, Linnea,” Thomas said, a sound in his voice that William didn’t understand, but that he didn’t have the energy to wonder about.

  “Has Ben ever done one thing – even one – to deserve to have you saying that?”

  She looked down at the ground. “No. He hasn’t.”

  “You need to deal with your feelings some other way, than that, Nay.”

  William had no idea what they were talking about, and he didn’t care. He rode away from the stable without another word.

  * * *

  In the pale light of the morning, the emergency camp was even more depressing than it had been the night before. Well before they even reached it, as they approached from a hill, William could see that it was much calmer and quieter than the night before. There hadn’t been any additional evacuations during the night. He scanned the sky, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw that the plume of smoke had moved – the fire was drifting back into the deep woods, away from homes.

  Slowly, William brought Skittles to a stop.

  “What are you doing?” Thomas asked, riding up and stopping next to him. On his other side, Linnea stopped, too.

  “I don’t want to go in there.”

  “Into the camp? Why? What’s wrong?” Thomas’ brow furrowed in concern.

  William closed his eyes for a moment, remembering the night before. “If we go talk to everyone there, we’re not going to be able to leave and go searching for her. Someone will stop us, try to calm us down, tell us something stupid like everything’s going to be okay, or they’ve got it under control. I’m not going to do that. I’m going to go and find her. Now.”

  Thomas was silent for a long moment. William could see him deliberating what he was going to say.

  “I’m not sure it’s a good idea to go off completely on our own,” he finally said.

  “What, Thomas? Since when are you the one who isn’t ready to jump into the action?” William was surprised at the twinge of irritation that tightened his chest.

  Thomas looked over at Linnea for several seconds before he turned back to face William. Linnea didn’t look nearly as shocked at her brother’s departure from his usual adventurous spirit as he would have expected her to. In fact, she stared intently down at her hands as Thomas spoke.

  “You’re right, Will. Half a cycle ago, I wouldn’t have given it a second thought. Really, I probably wouldn’t have even waited until it was light out – I’d have talked you into sneaking out of the castle in the middle of the night to go searching for her. Half a cycle ago I didn’t know better. I wouldn’t have stopped to think about how that would affect everyone else – to wake up this morning, not only worrying about Quinn, but then finding us missing too.”

  William’s heart sank guiltily. “Sure, Thomas. Get all mature on me now.” Linnea and Thomas followed him in silence as he turned Skittles and headed down the hill toward the camp.

  With Quinn missing, security in the camp was intense now. Several guards patrolled the area; one was just heading back down from a trip to the well. None of them spoke to William as he led his siblings over to the clinic.

  It should have been a relief that when he walked into the clinic and there were no patients – only Jacob, sound asleep on a cot, and Nathaniel who opened his eyes and sat up at the slight noise of them walking in.

  Yes, he should have been very grateful that the empty clinic meant that there were no serious injuries, that the citizens of his kingdom were healthy and well. But he couldn’t bring himself to be happy about that. Instead, he felt stupid for having insisted that he come out here, for bringing Quinn with him where she wasn’t safe. They would have managed just fine without him, and she would be in the castle right now, with him.

  Nathaniel clearly hadn’t slept at all. He looked even more
exhausted and distraught than William felt – it even appeared that he had been crying.

  William looked down at the floor. “I’m sorry,” he said softly, as moisture pooled in his own eyes. “I should have listened to you – should have made her listen.”

  He heard Linnea swallow loudly behind him.

  Nathaniel didn’t answer, he just stood and walked over to William and put his arms around him, hugging him tight to his chest.

  “We’re going to find her,” Thomas said, after several minutes when Nathaniel had finally released his hold. “We’re going to find her today. Right now. What’s going on with the search?”

  * * *

  Quinn woke up drenched in sweat from the morning sun that was hitting the eastern wall of the tent where she’d been sleeping. She could tell from the angle of the light that it was still early, but she was surprised that she’d slept so long – that she’d slept at all actually. And, somehow, she’d not only slept, but had actually managed to dream.

  Of course, she’d been exhausted. They hadn’t walked too much farther after she’d hurt herself – maybe only twenty minutes or so, but it had felt like forever.

  By the time they reached some kind of camp, tents gathered around a clearing, her entire body was aching, and she felt like she might collapse at any moment.

  The man led her to the first tent they encountered, a large canvas affair that could easily sleep ten people, maybe more. It was completely dark. “Here,” he said, pulling open a flap in the heavy material, and pointing inside.

  Her stomach dropped at the idea. She had no idea who or what might be in the huge tent. In the clearing, she could see the faint glow of lanterns inside other tents, but they were several yards away from her. This tent was completely dark. She thought about calling out, but then realized she could be putting herself in more danger if she did that. The man hadn’t touched her, at least; for all his lack of concern, he hadn’t actually harmed her. He didn’t even follow her into the tent. He closed the flap behind her, and she could hear him shuffling around just outside, settling down onto the ground right in front of the entrance.