“Yes, it’s true. Besides, you still have a difficult road ahead of you. I doubt my husband or my son will give up very easily.”
“Or at all.” The new voice startled them all as the door swung all the way open.
The first thing Quinn saw was Linnea, which confused her, because it wasn’t Linnea’s voice she’d heard, it was … adrenaline rushed through her veins as she realized that Tolliver was just behind Linnea, and he had one arm around her chest, his hand pointing a dagger at her throat.
“I hate to intrude on your lovely little meeting here, but I think there are a few things you haven’t considered.” Slamming the door closed with his foot, Tolliver strode purposefully into the room, pushing Linnea in front of him.
Linnea looked terrified, her arms dangling by her sides, although her eyes scanned the room, taking in her surroundings. After a brief glance at Quinn, William, and Nathaniel, Linnea’s eyes locked on something to the far side of the room, and she made a small grabbing motion with one hand.
Quinn didn’t dare follow Linnea’s gaze. Marcus and Ben were over there, but the way Tolliver was standing, she didn’t think he’d seen them.
“I don’t know who you are,” Tolliver said, looking right at Quinn. “Or why Stephen thinks he can get away with tricking my mother out of my throne, but if you don’t pack up and head back to wherever it is you’re from, I will kill her.”
“How will you fulfill the prophecy if you do?” Quinn asked.
Tolliver looked stunned, but only for a second. “I won’t. I’ll come up with some other way. I’m sure that killing Stephen’s daughter will make him angry enough to really fight. Perhaps then my father can bring in some real forces from Dovelnia to defend our borders.”
“And what will that accomplish, Tolliver?” She didn’t care about the answer, wasn’t even sure what she was asking. Her only goal right then was to keep him talking, keep him focused on her. Ben and Marcus had managed to creep around the outside of the room.
“What business is it of yours? All you need to know is that if you don’t leave here now, I really will kill the girl. And I don’t think you want that.” He pressed the tip of the knife into Linnea’s neck just enough to draw blood.
“Will you let her go, if I leave?”
“I won’t kill her. I’ll still need her to fulfill the prophecy then, but I assure you, she’ll be treated as a proper princess of Philotheum, as my wife.”
Suddenly, Tolliver gasped in pain. As he did, Linnea reached up with her left hand and grabbed his knife, pulling it away from her neck. Somehow, she twisted around, out of his grasp, and pointed it at his chest.
Only then did Quinn see the quickly growing bloodstain on the leg of Tolliver’s pants. It took a second to realize the source – the small dagger embedded in his thigh.
Marcus and Ben were both behind him with lightning speed. Ben took the knife from Linnea, and held it at Tolliver’s neck himself while Marcus grabbed his hands and held them behind his back. Then, Ben moved to the side so Marcus could force Tolliver down onto the ground.
“Quick, I need something to tie his hands with.”
Everyone looked around for a few seconds, seeing nothing. William finally unbuckled his belt, and handed it to Marcus, before grabbing his sister, and pulling her back toward the couch.
That was when Quinn realized that Linnea was bleeding, too. There was a trail of blood on the carpet, dripping from her hand where she’d grabbed the blade of Tolliver’s knife.
Just then, Jonathan appeared again in the doorway with two guards behind him. He blinked when he saw the scene. “Well, I guess you took care of it.” Turning to the two guards, he said, “Take him, please. He’s under arrest.”
“Please,” Tolliver spat, though he was still being pinned to the ground by Marcus. “You can’t arrest me. I’m the heir to the throne.” He looked at Sophia. “Mother, don’t be ridiculous. You need to end this before my father finds out.”
Sophia sighed. “I will always wonder how much of your sense of entitlement is my fault, Tolliver. Somewhere along the line, I should have managed to teach you that I’m the one you really needed to answer to. You’re right about me needing to end it, however.” Squaring her shoulders, she looked right at the two guards. “Arrest him. Make sure his injuries are treated, but don’t let him go anywhere.”
“Don’t move him yet!” Nathaniel said, stepping in front of the guards, and kneeling down next to Tolliver.
“Nathaniel…” Williams’s voice was strained.
Quinn turned, looking toward where she’d heard William’s voice, but she saw Linnea first and gasped. There was a lot more blood on Linnea’s hand than there had been a minute ago. A dark red stain was spreading across her shirt. There was also a trickle running down the side of her neck. William was already over there, kneeling in front of the couch where she was sitting – he was the one who had taken the hem of Linnea’s shirt and wrapped her hand in it as best he could.
Nathaniel looked at William. “I have some supplies in my bag,” he said. “Quinn, can you hand me my backpack? I need to get Tolliver’s injury stable before he bleeds out.”
“Like you would care,” Tolliver said, acid in his voice. But there was sweat beading on his forehead, and he was starting to look pale. There was a lot more blood under Tolliver now; forming a pool on the carpet by his leg.
“Whatever else I am, Tolliver, I’m not someone who’s going to sit by while my brother dies when I could have done something.”
“Brother? What are you talking about?” Tolliver looked frantically between Nathaniel and Sophia. “What is he talking about?”
“Nathaniel is your brother.”
“No, my brother Nathaniel died when I was young. Just like Samuel.”
“Samuel didn’t die, either,” Sophia said. “At least not when you were a child. He lived long enough to produce an heir. Quinn is his daughter.”
“That’s impossible.”
“No,” Nathaniel said, “what’s impossible is you staying conscious much longer with that hole in your leg. I think she hit an artery.”
“Well, maybe if you took the damn knife out! I’d do it myself, but I’m a bit indisposed.”
“And it’s a good thing you are,” Nathaniel said, unzipping the bag Quinn had handed him. “If you pulled that thing out right now, you’d bleed to death right here. And as much as, right now, I think I wouldn’t mind watching that, I’m sure later on, it will be more satisfying to know you’re watching Quinn sit on the throne from your prison cell.”
“Nathaniel!” The shock in Sophia’s voice matched Quinn’s own feelings. She couldn’t believe she’d heard Nathaniel say that – not that she disagreed with him, but still…
“Don’t tell me there’s not at least a part of you that feels the same way right now, Mother. He kidnapped Linnea, and was going to force her to marry him. The last time he met Quinn, he nearly attacked her – his own niece.”
“I didn’t know that.” Tolliver said. There was still derision in his voice, but it was weaker now. He’d gone pale white; the cloth Nathaniel was tying around the knife was already turning red.
“It doesn’t matter what you knew.” Nathaniel said, through his teeth. “You’re a miserable excuse for a human being for even trying it. And you deserve what’s coming to you. But right now, I’m going to save your life so I can make sure you get it.”
He looked up at Jonathan. “Is there somewhere we can take him – with a table, maybe? And are there supplies here of any kind?”
Jonathan nodded. “These two will take him for you. I will speak to Brian about whether there are any supplies – for both of you.”
The two guards, under Nathaniel’s direction, carefully lifted Tolliver and headed toward the door.
As Quinn picked up William’s backpack to carry it to him, she heard Jonathan talking quietly with Sophia.
“Come on, Mother. Let’s let them take care of this.” Quinn glanced at her grandmother an
d saw that she’d gone almost as white as Tolliver, and her hands were shaking.
“Are we safe here?” Quinn asked Jonathan, as he helped Sophia to her feet.
“Yes.” Sophia answered. “As safe as you would be anywhere, now that we know where Tolliver is.”
“Where is Hector?”
“I don’t know where my husband is, Quinn, but I know he wasn’t traveling in this direction any time soon. Jonathan will ask some more guards from the Friends of Philip to stand outside the door for you, if it will make you feel safer. Perhaps we can talk later, after I’ve had a chance to rest.”
“We can keep watch in the hallway as well,” Marcus said, looking a little green himself. The carpet did look a bit like a murder scene. “Ben?”
Ben was in the middle of scooping Linnea into his arms to carry her into the adjoining bedroom. “I’ll stay inside and guard here – if that’s all right?” He was looking at Linnea as he asked.
Linnea gave a weak shrug. “That’s up to you.”
Marcus closed the door tightly behind him. Quinn followed William, Ben, and Linnea into the bedroom, although a not-small part of her would have gladly gone with Marcus into the hallway.
* * *
“I am going to ruin that,” Linnea said, as Ben tried to set her gently down on the soft white comforter. Quinn darted in front of them, and Ben lifted Linnea back up a little, so Quinn could pull the blankets back.
“Are there any towels anywhere?” Quinn asked.
Ben looked around helplessly. “I don’t see anything in here. I can go ask someone to bring us some.”
William nodded. “Water would be great, too. The biggest pitcher or basin someone can find.” He was digging through his backpack, pulling out everything that resembled a piece of cloth or a medical supply. Quinn was relieved to see him take out his leather bag and set it on the bed.
Ben hurried out of the room.
“So, how bad is it?” Linnea asked.
William looked up from the supplies he was organizing and ran his finger down the side of his sister’s cheek. “That had to have been the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen in my life, Nay. I am stunned, and so proud of you.”
And that was when it hit Quinn, so hard that the realization made her knees go weak, and she had to sit down on the bed beside Linnea. That had all just really happened. And Linnea was here, right in front of them. Safe – mostly, anyway.
She couldn’t stop herself from pulling Linnea into her arms – injuries and blood notwithstanding, she needed to touch her, to feel that she was real.
“That’s not what I asked,” Linnea said, once she and Quinn had finally let each other go, and Quinn had helped her lie back against the pillows. “How badly did I damage myself?”
“Well,” William said, sitting down beside her, and unwrapping the strip of cloth he’d tied around her hand after he’d torn it from the bottom of her skirt. “You are definitely going to be seeing the wrong end of a needle for the first time. But I think it’s going to be okay.”
Quinn rubbed Linnea’s shoulder.
“Is it going to hurt?”
“Doesn’t it already?”
“It’s starting to. It didn’t really when it happened. Is that weird?”
“No. It was a sharp knife, and you had a lot of adrenaline in your system. It’s a clean cut–you probably didn’t feel much of anything. It’s deep, but not so bad. Stitches will fix it. Same with the cut on your neck. Fortunately, I do have most of what I need here. Part of me thought it was stupid to carry this stuff across the river instead of just sending it with Skittles, but now I’m glad I did.”
Linnea nodded, though her lower lip trembled a little, and the color had drained from her face.
William frowned, reaching up to feel her forehead. Quinn watched as he took longer than necessary, running his hand across her forehead, then down the sides of her face with supreme care. She thought she saw tears in the corners of his eyes as he took the wrist of Linnea’s uninjured right hand and felt for her pulse.
“I think you might be in a little bit of shock,” William said to her. “Honestly, I think we might all be. I’m going to get you fixed up, though, and then we can rest and figure things out.”
He rubbed at his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt before reaching back into his bag, and Quinn had to swallow back a lump in her throat.
“Here,” William said, tossing a small, plastic bottle to Quinn. It took her several seconds to figure out what it was – a bottle of hand sanitizer, from her world. She didn’t know why, but she almost felt like crying as she used some of it to clean her hands.
“Okay, sweetheart, I’m going to get started numbing up your hand here in a second,” William said.
Linnea’s eyes grew wide. “I can’t believe I did this to myself,” she said.
“Enough.” William’s voice was more serious than Quinn had ever heard it. “You didn’t do anything to yourself. You were a hero in there. And right at this moment, I’m wishing Nathaniel would have let Tolliver bleed to death from that awesome move of yours. You are going to be fine. I can fix this.”
“The numbing medicine is the worst part,” Quinn said, echoing what Thomas had told her the first time she’d gotten stitches. “It stings for a minute. But then you won’t even feel the stitches.”
“Tell me I didn’t give you too much of a bad time when you were scared of a needle,” Linnea said.
“You did, but I’m not much for revenge,” William said, smiling, though it didn’t reach all the way to his puffy, red eyes. “Besides, I never earned my cuts the way you earned yours. It’ll be over in a minute. You just look at Quinn, and not at me. I need you to just relax and breathe, okay?”
Linnea nodded. Quinn scooted closer to her on the bed and faced her, holding her uninjured hand.
“Okay, Nay. Take a deep breath in, and then blow it out through your mouth. Big pinch.”
“Ow.” Linnea’s hand clenched Quinn’s tightly. “Okay, Will, I’m sorry I ever teased you.”
“Don’t be. It was probably funny.” He leaned down and kissed his sister on the forehead, brushing her hair back out of her face.
There was a soft knock on the open bedroom door, and Quinn looked over to see Ben standing there, holding a large stack of towels.
“How is she?” he asked, with obvious worry in his voice.
“She’s going to be fine,” William said. “It’s just a couple of cuts. The one on her hand is going to keep her from grabbing another knife any time soon, but she’ll be okay.”
Ben didn’t look convinced. “Are you sure?”
“I’m fine,” Linnea said. “You don’t have to talk about me like I’m not here. I’m here.”
That made Ben smile. “I’m sorry. I should have known better. Can I come in? I’ve got these, and there’s a basin of water on the table out here.”
Linnea shrugged. “It’s not very exciting. Come on in if you want.”
William leaned close to her ear. “Are you sure, Nay? I still have to do the one on your neck.”
She grimaced, but nodded. “Ben, you’re fairly warned that you might see me cry or something else ridiculous if you do stay.”
Ben’s eyes widened and he darted to her side. Quinn moved out of the way. “Does it hurt?” he asked, kneeling next to her.
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry. You hurt Tolliver a lot worse than he got you, though. That was incredible.”
“Thanks for trusting me and giving me that knife,” she whispered. “That was you, too.”
“I’m surprised I could even think, seeing him with you, like that … I just…”
Quinn raised an eyebrow at Will; she’d never seen Ben like this. Or Linnea actually. William shrugged and gave her a half-smile. “I kind of like it,” he mouthed.
Quinn did, too. Ben and Linnea … yes, she definitely liked the idea.
“Okay Nay, ready to finish this up?”
“No. But go ahead.”
“Can I hold your hand?” Ben asked.
“I don’t know. I might really feel like a weakling – needing my hand held for a couple of stitches if I’m surrounded by three people who have a Friends of Philip tattoo.”
“My father had to hold my hand when they did my tattoo,” Ben said quietly. “And I’m supposed to be some big, tough guard. And that was my choice, and that wasn’t as bad as what just happened to you. Even you, strong Princess Linnea, are allowed to fall apart sometimes and let other people take care of you.”
Linnea bit her lip and nodded, a single tear rolling down her cheek.
William wiped his sister’s tear away with his thumb. “Even if you don’t think you need it, Linnea, we all really need to take care of you right now, okay?”
“Okay.” She held out her hand toward Ben.
26. A Night at the Miller Estate
William had finished working on Linnea, and they were all just sitting around her on the bed, when there was a knock on the door out in the main room.
None of them moved to answer it, but after a moment, Marcus appeared in the bedroom doorway. “Is everything all right?”
Quinn put her fingers to her lips, and climbed gently off the bed – Linnea had been about to doze off.
But her efforts failed. “I’m fine,” Linnea called out, just as Quinn reached Marcus.
Marcus raised an eyebrow, but Quinn sighed and nodded. “She’s okay. She just needs to rest.”
“Okay. There’s someone out here I want you to meet.” He tilted his head behind him, and Quinn could now see there was someone standing out there. A man, a few cycles older than Marcus, perhaps, with salt-and-pepper coloring his neatly trimmed hair and beard. “You, too, William and Ben.”
“Princess Quinn, it is a profound honor,” Brian Miller said, lowering his head, after Marcus had introduced her.
She flushed, and started to tell him the gesture was unnecessary, but William’s hand on her elbow reminded her quickly that she was supposed to accept such deference.
“I’m sorry for barging into your home the way we did,” she said instead. “We’re all very grateful for your hospitality.”
Blooms of Consequence (Dusk Gate Chronicles - Book Four) Page 30
