Thorns of Decision (Dusk Gate Chronicles)

by Breeana Puttroff

  After a while, her mom looked up at her. “You’re going to go back there, aren’t you?”

  Quinn nodded. “Tonight. William is having a big celebration for his birthday next week, and if I don’t go back this evening, I’ll miss it.”’

  “It’s not just because you’re still mad at me for not telling you?” Megan’s voice broke at the end, and the sound tightened something in Quinn’s chest.

  “No. I am still upset about that, but I kind of understand it more now that you gave me the pendants.” Inside her other pocket, the pendants were smooth and cold, an unexpectedly heavy sensation against her leg.

  “Are you going to tell me what upset you so much about those necklaces last night? I really thought you knew you were related to the – to Stephen and Charlotte.”

  “Actually, I’m not. Not really.”

  Megan frowned. “I always thought …”

  “I didn’t think anything mom. I didn’t have any idea about any of this until Thursday when I left. And now … those pendants … I’m not ready to talk about it yet, Mom. I need to understand more before I am.”

  “You’re kind of scaring me, Quinn.”

  “I’m sorry. I need to … I need to talk to Nathaniel.”

  * * *

  Quinn’s stomach churned as she turned onto Bray Street, heading for Nathaniel’s house. Her heart had started pounding in an abnormal rhythm about an hour ago, when she’d first picked up the phone to call him, and now that she was almost here, her stomach had joined the fray.

  She wasn’t certain why she was so anxious about having this meeting. She should have been chomping at the bit to ask her questions and finally get – demand – some real answers, but she wasn’t. After what she’d learned last night, she was afraid of what else she might learn, and what it would mean.

  Nathaniel was waiting for her in the driveway – of course he would be; why would she have expected some time to pull herself together before she went inside? Her irritation faded only a little when she saw the expression on his face. He was much more nervous about this than she was.

  Inside, Nathaniel’s house looked as warm and welcoming as it ever had. A low fire crackled in the hearth near the couches where they sat down, facing each other.

  They hadn’t spoken at all since Nathaniel had opened her car door and given a tentative “Hello,” to which she had nodded. Now in his living room, they were silent for several more minutes, until Nathaniel finally swallowed hard, and then said, “So your mother gave you the pendants?”

  She reached into the pocket of her jeans and withdrew the small, cloth pouch she had found to keep them in. Pulling open the strings, she shook the little bag, and the pendants fell heavily into her hand. The image of the royal crest in the center of her father’s pendant sent a little thrill of fear rumbling down her spine, as it had done every time she’d looked at it. Nervous, she rubbed it with her thumb. “Does this mean what I think it does?” she asked, although she didn’t really have any doubt.

  “Yes.” Nathaniel’s voice was soft and low but definitive.

  “Why does everyone think he died in a river in Philotheum?” This was the question she’d fallen asleep to last night.

  Nathaniel sighed. “I should have guessed you’d go for the hardest questions first.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “You think that’s the hardest question?” It wasn’t. Not by far.

  He chuckled, and the tension between them eased, if only slightly. “No, you’re right. I suppose it isn’t. And I guess it’s one that you really need the answer to, anyway.”

  Quinn waited as Nathaniel fidgeted with his hands before he started telling the story.

  “I think you know some of this, Quinn, but I will start at the beginning. My father was King Jonathan of Philotheum, as I’m sure you have figured out. I was the fourth born child of Jonathan and my mother, Sophia. Samuel was my oldest brother. He was eight cycles older than me, but we were always close. I’ve heard stories that he doted over me, even in the cradle. We both loved our other two siblings, Ellen and Charles, but the two of them were only a cycle apart in age, and were usually in their own little world together.”

  “And then your father died?”

  Nathaniel nodded, sadness in his eyes. “Yes, I was four and Samuel was twelve when our father – even from the beginning, we believed that our father had been killed. Later, we knew it to be true.”

  “Killed by who?” Quinn asked.

  “As surprising as it might sound, Eirentheos and Philotheum are not the only two kingdoms in our world ...”

  “Right. Tolliver’s father was from somewhere else, right?”

  “It would be a mistake to underestimate you, Quinn. Yes, the Kingdom of Dovelnia touches the far northwestern border of Philotheum, and the relationship between the two kingdoms has historically been tense.”

  “Why?”

  “We would get off-track if I tried to answer that question right now, Quinn, but the biggest reasons were religious ones.”

  She raised an eyebrow, but was silent as he continued.

  “When my father became king, one of the things he most wanted was to have peaceful relations with Dovelnia. Hector was the first ambassador from Dovelnia to come to the Philothean castle in several generations.”

  Quinn frowned.

  “At first, it seemed like things were going well. Relations between Philotheum and Dovelnia were better than they had been in many generations, and they kept improving. The strange things happened slowly, starting with Hector inviting an oracle from his own kingdom. Fortune-telling wasn’t something that was practiced in Philotheum, but nobody said anything until the day he predicted the death of my father.”

  “What happened then?”

  “At that point, my father told Hector in no uncertain terms that the oracle had to leave, or he’d send Hector back to his own kingdom as well. The oracle left, but the damage was done. Half a cycle later, my father died in the horseback riding incident. Hector convinced my mother that if he had only listened to the oracle and followed his advice, then my father would have lived. Between that, and Hector promising continued peace between the kingdoms, rather than war, he and my mother were married before she gave birth to my youngest brother, Jonathan.”

  “Named after your father?”

  “Yes.” Nathaniel stared into the fire for a moment, before he turned back to Quinn. “I was so young. I couldn’t understand why Samuel was so angry so much of the time at our mother and our new stepfather. Hector was always nice to me, giving me sweets and presents whenever he was around, which actually wasn’t very often. I remember wanting to like him, but I couldn’t all the way, because Samuel didn’t.”

  He paused again, and Quinn sat silently, trying to absorb everything he was saying, trying to visualize it all in her head – her father and Nathaniel as young children, losing their own father.

  “By the time I was eight, of course Hector had an oracle again. Not the same one – there were always rumors floating around that the old oracle had had something to do with my father’s death. Many people in Philotheum believe – rightly – that there’s only one real way an oracle could have foreknowledge of someone’s death. But Hector, who is a quite charismatic man, was able to develop quite a large circle of influence as Prince Regent of Philotheum, and nobody stopped him from bringing in a new oracle, a man named Dalphius.”

  “Why didn’t your mother stop him?”

  “She was in love with him, Quinn. By that point, I think she would have allowed him to do anything. And by then, too, she was expecting his child.”

  “Tolliver,” Quinn said, her voice dark.

  “Yes, Tolliver. He wasn’t always evil, you know. At one time, he was just a baby. Anyway, shortly after Tolliver was born was when things changed significantly in the castle. Samuel was growing closer and closer to eighteen, old enough to take over the throne himself, and now Hector had a son of his own. It wasn’t long before Dalphius ‘predicted’ Samuel
’s death.”

  “And people actually believed him?”

  “My mother did. She hadn’t listened to the first oracle about my father, and she didn’t want to make the same mistake twice. And there were others who wanted to believe the oracle as well, others who thought the new beliefs Hector was bringing into the kingdom were a solution to a problem that had been plaguing Philotheum.”

  “What problem?”

  “Surely you must have wondered why there is nobody else truly fighting for the throne, Quinn? You, who notices everything.”

  Quinn swallowed. The thought had crossed her mind once or twice, but there were always so many other things she’d been worried about. “Ellen can’t fight for the throne because she’s a second-born, right?”

  “Yes, traditionally only first-borns have that right. It’s not Ellen’s place, or Charles’ or mine.”

  “But Charles’ daughter would be eligible.”

  “Yes, Gianna is the next living first-born in the royal line. There are no others.”

  Quinn blinked. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, if something were to happen to Stephen, there would be Simon. But if Simon died without an heir, the crown would go to the first-born son of Stephen’s younger brother, Vincent.”

  “Jonathan didn’t have any younger siblings?”

  Nathaniel shook his head slowly. “He had one much-younger sister, Vanessa, but she died as an infant. The queen suffered a number of miscarriages, and many cycles of being unable to conceive. My grandfather, too, was an only child. For three generations, my family was able to produce only a single possible heir to the throne. There were some who believed it was some kind of curse. My mother was so afraid, as she carried Ellen … And then, by coincidence, it was during her pregnancy with Ellen that Hector and the first oracle came to stay in the castle.”

  “And, what? She thought the oracle had something to do with her having more children?”

  “I’ve never had the opportunity to ask, Quinn. But these are the things I’ve heard through the years. These are some of the reasons that people in Philotheum have been willing to accept Hector, to challenge the beliefs they’ve always held and listen to his new ones. There was a lot of uncertainty in the kingdom for a long time – a lot of fighting among those who were related to the royal line, but not closely enough that it would be easy to decide where they stood – who the crown might fall to. All I know is that my mother was afraid enough for Samuel’s life, and that she believed enough in Dalphius’ warnings that she agreed to have Samuel sent away.”

  “Sent away where?”

  “The plan was to send Samuel to Dovelnia, where he could learn more about the beliefs and the ways that would be responsible for ‘saving’ Philotheum. Hector and Dalphius had convinced my mother that it was important for Samuel to marry someone from a ‘strange land’, and that the kingdom would only be restored when his own foreign-born heir took the throne. And who knows? Maybe Dalphius did have a real vision about that,” he looked meaningfully at Quinn. “The man did really have powerful dreams sometimes. I think he allowed his own ambitions and my stepfather’s desires to get in the way of gaining wisdom from them, though.”

  “But obviously my father never went to Dovelnia,” Quinn said, pulling out her two pendants and looking at them again.

  “No. Samuel never believed that Hector had any intention of allowing him to live, even if he did go to Dovelnia, and it wasn’t somewhere he wanted to go. One night, Samuel had a dream that convinced him that what Hector and Dalphius were doing was completely against the Maker’s wishes for the kingdom. He went to our mother, and shared it with her, in a last attempt to get her to listen to reason. He wanted Dalphius sent away, and he wanted to assume the crown early. Our mother refused, and told Hector everything. That night, Samuel disappeared. Several days later, his ‘accidental’ death was reported throughout the kingdom.”

  “But he wasn’t dead.”

  “No. Obviously not. Although, for a long time, I was the only person in Philotheum who knew that. You see, I was there that night. Always my older brother’s adoring shadow, I was in his room that night when Hector knocked on the door. Samuel shoved me under the bed, afraid of what might be coming. And he was right to be afraid. Hector did threaten him. Told him in no uncertain terms that he was leaving for Dovelnia within the week, but there was a different threat behind his words. Later that night, Samuel filled a small pack with some food and a change of clothes, and left to go to our distant family in Eirentheos.”

  “And then Hector just thought somehow that he was dead?”

  “I don’t know if Hector ever really believed that he was dead. In the morning when he discovered Samuel was missing, he did send out two guards who were not to return to the castle without proof that they’d ‘taken care of’ the problem. Although they did bring back a body, well, pieces of one that were enough to be convincing at a funeral, both of those guards were executed a few months later.”

  “And instead he just ran off to Eirentheos and they just took him in?” Quinn was surprised.

  “Yes, King Daniel and Queen Helena just ‘took him in.’ They were already very wary of the things that were going on between Philotheum and Dovelnia, and they’d heard the rumors. They also believed that Hector had something to do with the death of my father. It was a very difficult time for your father. He was only sixteen – your age, and he had to live a completely hidden life. It was during those cycles that Stephen and Samuel discovered some old journals detailing the gate to this world, and they took it upon themselves to find it. Once they did, and they were able to roughly predict when it would open, it became a perfect hiding place for Samuel, who was constantly afraid of being discovered. It was a huge relief to have somewhere that nobody could discover who he was.”

  She frowned. “So where do you come into all this?”

  “By the time I was thirteen, I had a good understanding of what Hector’s plans were, and I’d been living in fear for a long time that somebody would figure out that I might know something about where my older brother really was. And then, I started becoming close friends with the son of one of the castle guards – Marcus Westbrook.”

  “The same Marcus we traveled in Philotheum with?”

  “The very same. And that was my first brush with the idea that my siblings and I weren’t alone in our thoughts that things weren’t right in Philotheum. That Hector didn’t have everyone under his spell. Marcus and the rest of his family were Friends of Philip. I started sneaking off with Marcus, sitting in on secret meetings in his home on days his father wasn’t working at the castle. Sometimes Ellen and Charles would come with me, but not always. They weren’t with me the night that Marcus and I, along with several other secret members of the Friends of Philip hid in the root cellar while Marcus’ father was arrested by his own friends – other castle guards.”

  Quinn’s eyes opened wide.

  Nathaniel nodded. “It was a dark day. I never went back to the castle. By the time the guards came back in the middle of the night to set fire to the house, Marcus and I, along with the rest of the family, were in a safe house three villages away. Some neighbors who were also Friends of Philip made sure that the house looked like it was occupied when they came, and they made sure to spread the rumor that I had been there. My pendant was recovered from the ashes of the fire.

  “Hector made it plain that anyone who would act against the crown was a traitor, even if it was King Jonathon’s own son. I wasn’t even worthy of a funeral, and it was forbidden for my name to be mentioned in the kingdom ever again. We eventually made it safely to Eirentheos.”

  “But Ellen doesn’t think you’re dead.”

  “Now, no. In the last several cycles I’ve become active in the Friends of Philip again, and there are a few who know who I really am. I was only thirteen when I left, and I was never much of a public figure in the first place. Outside of the highest circles of the Friends of Philip, everyone truly believes I died.
Hector and Tolliver have no idea. My mother doesn’t know. Even Jonathan, my youngest brother – I’m not sure if he knows I ever existed.”

  Nathaniel stood and walked over to the window, looking outside, where a few fresh snowflakes had begun to fall.

  Even though Nathaniel’s living room was cozy and warm, Quinn shivered.

  Nathaniel turned to look at her again. “And outside of myself, Ellen, and Charles – and of course, Stephen and Charlotte, your existence is a heavily guarded secret.”

  She narrowed her eyes for a second, noting that he hadn’t said that nobody else knew – only that the secret was guarded. “And what am I supposed to do about all of this?” That was the hard question. Now that she knew, what exactly did they have in mind for her? She was sixteen, and she’d grown up in an entirely different world. She certainly wasn’t prepared to be the heir to the throne of Philotheum.

  He sighed, leaning up against the small window seat. “I don’t know the answer to that, Quinn. Ultimately, what you do with that knowledge is up to you. Nobody can make that choice for you.”

  A sudden burst of anger ripped through her chest, startling her with its intensity. “I keep hearing that, Nathaniel. ‘The choice is mine,’ but I don’t know what that means or how that’s even possible, because none of this has ever been my choice.” She heard her voice growing louder, but she couldn’t stop herself. She was almost yelling.

  “I didn’t ask for any of this. I didn’t choose to have a father who was from a different world than me. I didn’t choose to have this huge secret kept from me my entire life. And I definitely didn’t choose to be the heir to the throne of Philotheum!”

  Nathaniel was silent throughout her tirade, waiting until she’d yelled herself out, and curled back into her ball on the sofa.

  “Of course you didn’t choose all of that. But then again, who ever does get to choose the circumstances of their birth? Do you think Samuel chose to be the first-born and the heir to the throne? For that matter, do you think Stephen did? Where you’re born, and who you’re born to – the choices your parents make as you’re growing up – those are things nobody in any world has control over. What you do with what you’re given – that’s up to you.”’