“Ah,” the man said knowingly. “That’s often when I find the best stuff.”
Zander blinked. What? He stood up, trying to compose himself. “I, uh … I didn’t see you here a minute ago.”
The man smiled. “Who said I was here a minute ago?”
“How did you get here, then?”
“How did you get here Zander?”
He almost fell back down. “Excuse me?”
The man’s bright blue eyes – had they been that color a moment ago? – flicked to Zander’s jacket and then back up to meet his gaze.
Right. His name was embroidered on his jacket. Zander squared his shoulders and looked directly back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t catch your name.”
If the man noticed Zander’s irritation, it didn’t seem to affect him. He smiled brightly, extending his hand. “You can call me Alvin.”
Zander raised an eyebrow, still unusually piqued. “Is that your name?”
“You don’t like it? I’ve always been told it suits me. If you prefer, though, you could call me Blueberry – I rather fancy blueberries.”
All right then, the man was crazy. He didn’t look quite old enough to be having symptoms of dementia, but clearly something wasn’t right. It was a little harder to hold on to his anger.
“Can I help you with anything, Mr. … Alvin? Are you lost?”
Alvin’s smile only grew wider. “I’m right where I’m supposed to be. As are you, I should think.”
That made Zander chuckle. “No, Mr. Alvin, I don’t think I’m supposed to be here at all.”
“Zander, if you’re not going to call me Blueberry, you could at least drop the ‘Mister’ bit. Nobody has called me that in a hundred cycles, at least.”
At this point, Zander was certain there was something wrong with the man. His anger had all but vanished, and he was starting to get concerned. “I’m sorry, uh … Alvin.”
Alvin’s eyes were clear and bright – there was nothing about him that looked crazy. “Blueberry was the wrong choice, I see; it’s given you the wrong impression Mister Cunningham. Maybe Glasberry would have been better – your friend Quinn certainly prefers those.”
Zander had been focused so intently on the man’s strange behavior, trying to figure out how someone who looked so coherent could sound so crazy, that it took a minute before he registered what Alvin had just said.
The blood in his veins turned to ice water. “Excuse me?”
“Glasberries – you know, little green berries. Shiny. Very juicy. Delicious. I heard the king of Philotheum is having his head gardener build a greenhouse just so the queen can have glasberries in any season.” His eyes met Zander’s again. “But that’s a secret – it’s meant to be a surprise for her when they return home.”
“I’ll be sure not to say anything,” Zander answered drily.
“Excellent!” Alvin rubbed his hands together and smiled.
He was no longer interested in the man’s odd ramblings, only in one thing he’d said. “What about my friend Quinn? How do you know about her?”
“I thought you said you weren’t here looking for anything.” The shrewd look on Alvin’s face made Zander suddenly sure that there was nothing crazy about him at all.
“Do you know Quinn?”
“Yes, I know her quite well. She’s a lovely young woman – more stubborn sometimes than you’re being right now.”
He ignored that. “Do you know where she is?”
Alvin looked around, going so far as to turn in a circle. “She doesn’t appear to be here.”
“Obviously.”
“Then why are you searching here?”
Frustration welled inside of him again. “I didn’t mean to search here! I was walking by the river and I saw that whole area dug up right there. It made me curious, that’s all.”
Alvin nodded. “But what are you doing here in the first place? Shouldn’t you be sitting in your English class right about now?”
“I was having trouble concentrating at school. I couldn’t focus on it.” He had no idea why he was telling this to Alvin, especially because it was beyond creepy that the man had guessed right – a glance at his cell phone told him that English had just started.
“What were you thinking about instead?”
“I was thinking that it’s not normal for a teenage girl to just disappear off the face of the Earth and for her mother to not even care.”
“What makes you think her mother doesn’t care?”
“Would you let your daughter run off to another country to live with an uncle she never even knew about before? A stranger?”
Alvin lifted one shoulder. “I’d hardly call Nathaniel a stranger.”
Zander’s jaw fell so far that he was afraid he was going to get gravel on it. “How could you know that? Who are you? What do you know about all of this?”
“That’s a lot of questions.”
“I want some answers.”
Alvin cocked his head to one side; Zander felt as if he were being studied. “What do you plan to do with those answers once you find them?”
“Why do you care?”
“Why do you care, Zander? What difference does it make to you why Megan Robbins allowed her daughter to go and live somewhere else with her family?”
“She was my girlfriend.”
“Was, being the operative word. I have it on good authority that Quinn ended that in the best way she knew how.”
“She was my friend, too.”
“Was she really? Were you treating her the way you would treat a friend?”
“I thought she was cheating on me! She was running around behind my back and lying to me.”
“Perhaps.” Alvin nodded. “But what does that have to do with what you did?”
“What do you mean? I didn’t do anything. Anybody would have been mad if their girlfriend lied and cheated on them.”
“Many people would have, yes. Of course, I’m not talking with any of those people. I’m having a conversation with you.”
“Are you saying I should have just acted like she didn’t do anything wrong?”
“I’m not saying you should or shouldn’t have done any particular thing. I was merely asking about what you did.”
“Do you think I did something wrong?”
“What does it matter what I think?”
A sudden pain made Zander look down at his right hand. It was clenched into a fist so tightly that the rough edge of his fingernail was digging into his skin. He had to work to loosen it. “What do you know about Quinn? Do you know where she is?”
“Why isn’t the answer you were given by her mother good enough for you?”
“Because it doesn’t make any sense.”
“It doesn’t make any sense that Quinn would want to get to know her family after being deprived of them for so long?”
Zander stared at him. “It doesn’t make any sense that Megan would just send her child off to another country with people she barely knows. It just feels like there’s something wrong. I’m worried about her.”
The old man rolled his eyes, which was so unexpected that Zander actually cracked a grin.
“Quinn’s a child now?”
“You know what I mean.”
“I’m afraid I don’t.”
“She’s still young enough to be at home with her mother – not running off to live in another country before she even graduates high school. I just think that something must be wrong.”
“Something you don’t think Quinn’s mother is able to handle?”
Zander didn’t have a response for that.
“Is this because you’re really worried about Quinn, or is it about your own feelings? Because you believe you’re owed some kind of an explanation that you’re not getting?”
He thought about that for a minute. “Does it matter?”
“Do one’s intentions matter? I think you know the answer to that.”
Zander sighed, more confused now than ever.
/> “You’re very invested in this, aren’t you?” Alvin’s eyes were gentler now, almost sympathetic, and something about his expression made Zander want to answer.
“Yes. I don’t know why – I can’t explain it, but I just can’t let it go.”
“I think you need to stop for a moment, Mr. Cunningham, and decide what it is that you’re after. There are things you can’t unlearn once you’ve learned them. Quinn learning about her father’s side of her family – learning that her mother had been keeping that information from her for her entire life – was such an event for her. While it is not my place to share her story with you, I can tell you this. It changed her life – permanently – in ways she couldn’t have imagined, and forced her to make decisions she probably wasn’t prepared for.”
“And you’re saying the same thing will happen to me.”
“Everyone is different.” Alvin shrugged. “I’m merely warning you that getting involved in things which are not your concern often has consequences. Not the least of which is the fact that Quinn has obviously chosen not to tell you about this – and she has never struck me as the kind of girl who would take that sort of thing lightly.”
“And Quinn is not my concern.”
“She certainly doesn’t have to be. She relieved you of that responsibility, and she did that on purpose.”
“Right after she found out that Nathaniel was really her uncle.”
“Just before, actually. But at that point, she already knew that her life had changed enough that she’d not be able to offer you what you needed from her.”
“So she wasn’t lying to me.”
“Yes, Zander, she was. In the same way that you’re not going to go tell your friends or your family that you ran into me here today – don’t look at me like that, I know you’re not going to.”
“Not telling them something is not the same as lying.”
“What if they asked you directly?”
Zander swallowed, remembering a time when he had not only asked, but pushed Quinn for an answer she hadn’t seemed willing to give him. When she’d begrudgingly shown him the stitches and bruises running down her upper arm, he’d freaked out, and she still hadn’t given him a straight answer.
“If you continue on this path, Zander, keep sticking your nose in this issue, you are going to find yourself in the same situation – telling lies to the people you care about.”
Who was this guy, anyway? A CIA agent or something? What in the world? Zander was getting a little scared now.
“And you’re here to what? Warn me to stay away?”
“Among other things, yes – not to threaten you, Zander. There’s no need to be afraid of me. I’m merely asking you to be sure of what your motives are. Quinn doesn’t owe you an explanation. If you insist on having one, you will be responsible for whatever else it brings into your life.”
“Why do I feel like I’m in some kind of weird spy movie?”
Alvin smiled. “It’s not a movie, Zander. I merely consider it only fair to let you know that you might get more than you bargained for if you pursue this, and to give you a chance to back out now.”
Alvin’s face was perfectly kind and friendly now – there was nothing menacing about him at all – but a chill ran down Zander’s spine. “Did Quinn have the same warning?”
“No. That’s an advantage you have that she didn’t – not that she’d likely have taken the warning.” Alvin smiled; the look in his eyes when he spoke of Quinn was a fond one – it calmed Zander a little. “But her circumstances were very different than yours. This isn’t your family, Zander, and it isn’t your concern.”
“Unless I make it my concern.”
“Unless you do.”
“What if I really just want to know that Quinn is all right – that nothing has happened to her?”
“Nothing happening to her and her being all right are two completely different things. I can tell you that she is currently healthy and well. Now, if you will excuse me, today’s an excellent day for catching fish.”
Zander wasn’t anywhere near ready to excuse Alvin to go anywhere, but by the time he opened his mouth to respond, the old man was already several hundred feet away from him, down by the riverbank. He wasn’t even sure how he’d gotten there so quickly.
Sighing, his thoughts traveling in even more directions than they had been when he’d arrived, he turned to walk back to his truck. Halfway there, just before heading into the trees that would obscure his view, he glanced back, half tempted to chase the man down and demand more answers from him, but when he looked, Alvin was gone. Zander couldn’t see him anywhere.
Startled, he turned all the way around, looking up and down the riverbank. Nothing. Weird. There hadn’t been time for Alvin to leave. He started to walk back down to where they’d been talking, his eyes scanning the entire area.
That’s when he saw it. If not for the small movement, he would never have noticed the man. Way up the slope that led to the highway above, and quite a distance downriver, there was a man, just sitting there, right next to a boulder.
It definitely wasn’t Alvin – he was too far away for one thing, and for another, this man had the blackest hair he’d ever seen; cropped close to his head, it looked nearly midnight blue. And he was staring right at Zander.
Even at this distance, he knew that the man had seen him, too – but the stranger didn’t seem to care. If anything, his posture indicated boredom. He didn’t look away, he just continued to watch. Zander was reminded of a hawk, a thought that sent a shudder rippling down from his shoulders to his toes.
Though the spring day was growing warmer, Zander snapped his jacket closed around him as he turned back and headed toward his truck.
~ 2 ~
Samuel
Rosewood Castle, Eirentheos
THE KNOCK ON the door was so soft that at first Quinn wasn’t sure she’d actually heard it, but William’s head turned at the sound, too. The baby in his arms sighed contentedly; William had just finished changing him and wrapping him up in a clean blanket.
“Do you want me to answer it?” he asked. “I think whoever it is knocked that quietly because they don’t want to disturb us if we want to be left alone.”
“Go ahead,” she said, glancing toward the window at the bright sunlight pouring in through the small crack William had opened a little while ago when the baby had woken them. “They’ve been patient for long enough, I think.”
“You’re not too tired for company?”
She shook her head. “Three hours of sleep at a stretch is probably as good as it’s going to get for a while. Might as well get used to it. Besides, I’m a little hungry.”
“Good.” He smiled, leaning down to nestle the baby in her arms and kissing her hair before going out to the sitting room to answer the door.
Nathaniel appeared in the bedroom doorway behind William. “Are you sure it’s okay? If it’s not, I’ll leave this here and go.” He nodded at the tray in his hands, loaded down with bowls of hot grain cereal, sweet rolls, fruit, and glasses of juice.
“Oh, come in, Nathaniel. We have something we wanted to tell you anyway.”
The answering grin on her uncle’s face made her glad he hadn’t waited any longer.
William took the tray from him, and Nathaniel approached her. “How are you feeling?”
“Great, actually. I’m not even as tired as I thought I would be.”
He smiled again, gazing down now at the baby. “May I?”
Nodding, she tucked the edge of the blanket back over a tiny arm before handing her son to him. Her uncle had come to check on her and the baby last night after William and the midwife delivered him, but he hadn’t held him. Nobody had yet, besides her and William.
“Oh,” Nathaniel breathed. “He’s perfect. He has William’s hair, but otherwise … he looks just like you, Quinn.” Cradling the baby with one arm, he gently brushed his finger across the little forehead. “This is exactly what you looked like, the fir
st time I held you.”
Warmth filled her chest as Nathaniel held her son so tenderly. Her uncle wasn’t always expressive, and the two of them were still figuring out what their relationship was going to be like, but watching him now – there was no doubt how he felt about her, and now about her child. Of course, right at the edges of the warm fuzziness was the ache in her chest that never quite went away.
“I’m so sorry that you mother isn’t here, sweetheart,” Nathaniel said, as if he sensed what she was thinking. “Or the rest of your family. I wish they were all here. And I really wish Samuel was here. This would have been a shining moment for him.”
“It’s still a wonderful moment,” William came to sit on the edge of the bed beside Quinn. He handed her a glass of juice and put his arm around her, squeezing her shoulder gently. “I know wherever Quinn’s father is, he’s seeing this now, and I still – we still – have hope that Quinn will see her family again, that they’ll get to meet our son, even if it’s not today. But today is still a pretty great day.”
“Yes, it is,” Quinn agreed, nodding. And it was. She would always miss her family; it would always be hard, but something had shifted inside her when William had first set the baby on her chest last night. The joy she’d felt then … the same joy she felt now when she saw that sweet little face … outweighed all of the sadness.
“We wanted to tell you that we’ve chosen a name,” she said. “I know it’s supposed to be a secret until the Naming Ceremony, but we thought you might like to hear it first.”
“Oh?”
“We were thinking Samuel … Samuel Owen Rose.”
Nathaniel’s eyes lit up. “That’s perfect.” He looked down at the baby. “A perfect name for a perfect little boy,” he cooed, leaning down to kiss little Samuel on the forehead.
“So is everyone else pacing the hallway waiting to get in here?” Quinn asked, once Nathaniel finally handed the baby back to her.
He grinned. “Only Thomas. Charlotte and Stephen are anxious to see you, of course, but they’ve been through this enough times now to be patient. Alice has asked a few times, too.”
Canes of Divergence (Dusk Gate Chronicles) Page 2
