Canes of Divergence (23 page)

“Thank you,” she said, laying the baby in the crook of his good arm.

W
illiam’s whole body relaxed a little – just enough for Quinn to be able to see it – when the baby twisted contentedly, searching for the most comfortable position, and the sight flooded her with warmth, with love for this man and the child they shared.

“This feels good,” William said, taking hold of her hand
as he looked down at Samuel. “I’ve missed it so much.”

She smiled. “Yell down to me if he gets hungry.”

“We’ll be fine, love.” He didn’t let go of her hand like she expected him to, instead he pulled her toward him. “Come here for a second.”

She raised an eyebrow, confused until she realized what he was trying to do. The kiss was tender and sweet, and very hard to pull away from.
When she finally managed it, she gave him a wry look. “That wasn’t because you’re jealous of him, was it?”

He shook his head, looking sincere enough that she believed him. “I was
avoiding doing that while he was watching, actually. I know you’re mine, I don’t need to rub his face in it. I needed that for me.”

Smiling, she kissed him
on the forehead. “I needed it too.”

“Wish I could play today – I’d kind
of like to be down there when Zander experiences his first taste of sports in our world.”

She giggled. “I’ll fill you in on any funny things he says later.”

“Thanks.” He rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb. “Things seem to be going pretty well with him right now. I’d suggest playing on the
same
team as him if you want to make sure to keep it that way.”

“I love you,” she said, squeezing his hand.

“I love you, too. Now go have fun.”

*          *          *

“That game is exhausting,” Zander said to Quinn when the game finally broke for halftime.

“We’re winning, though.”

“Yeah, no thanks to me.”

Quinn shrugged, taking a plate from the long table and beginning to fill it. “Linnea’s an intense goalkeeper.” She was being nice. Quinn hadn’t had any difficulty scoring four goals against her. Even Queen Charlotte had managed a goal when she’d traded in and out with Quinn for short breaks.

“I never pegged you for such a sports girl,” he said. “You never played any in Bristlecone.”

“I never did a lot of things in Bristlecone.”

“I suppose that’s true.” He chuckled, looking up into the bleachers to watch William, who was carefully climbing
down with the baby in his arms.

“Are you doing all right with all of this?” she asked him.

“I don’t know. I think I’ve decided to just ignore reality for the next ten days. Pretend I’m on some sort of weird, unexpected vacation or something.”

Truthfully, he’d been enjoying himself today. Crumple was fun, and he was really enjoying William’s older brothers; they were so different than anyone he had imagined being related to William Rose – or at least the version of William that had existed in Bristlecone. Here, he was discovering an entirely
new side of him.

He’d been playing so hard that even the strange spreads for the sandwiches set out along the table looked almost appealing. He was even sort of tempted by some of the bowls of fresh fruit – although he was definitely still intimidated by the green berries Quinn was scooping into her bowl.

“What
are
those?” he asked her.

“They’re called glasberries, and they’re amazing.”

“That’s kind of a weird name.” Although, for some reason, the name was ringing a bell, which was impossible – where would he have heard it before? “What do they taste like?”

“Um
… they taste like glasberries.”

“You’re very helpful.”

“I don’t know Zander. They’re kind of sweet. What does an apple taste like? If you want to know what a glasberry tastes like, you should eat one.”

“They’re green.”

“Blueberries are green on the inside, and you eat those. Apples can be green, so can pears. What’s wrong with green?”

He rolled his eyes, but held
out his hand. She dug in her bowl for one of the berries, and gave it to him.

“Well?” she asked, watching him as he chewed.

“It’s good. I don’t know if I’d call it
amazing
, but they’re definitely not as scary as I thought.”

“They’re my favorite food here. I’ll be sad when it’s the middle of the winter and we can’t find any.”

And suddenly, he remembered
exactly
where he’d heard the word before. “Quinn, do you know someone named Alvin?”

Her reaction to the name was immediate, her whole expression changed as
she looked around the field and the bleachers, just as William reached them. “Yes, I do. Why, is he here?”

“Is who here?” William asked.

“He just asked me if I know Alvin,” Quinn answered.

William started looking around, too.

Zander frowned. “Wouldn’t you have seen me if I was talking to him
here?
”

“With Alvin, you never know,” Will
iam said, “but if it wasn’t here, how do you know about him? Did you see him somewhere last night or this morning?”

“No. I saw him in Bristlecone.”

“In
Bristlecone?
” Quinn looked shocked. “Like when you and Owen were crossing the bridge?”

“It was before – I wasn’t with Owen. It was a few days ago – in Brist
lecone time, I guess.”

Quinn’s shock had turned to alarm as she looked at William. “You don’t think the gate has been open for longer, do you?”

“I don’t think so,” Zander interrupted her. “I don’t know exactly how all of it works, but Owen was carrying around this big chunk of rock that he put in this weird hole in the ground before we went through the gate. If I’m right, I don’t think it opened until he did that.”

She nodded. “It’s a magnet. I don’t know how it works either, but
we know there’s somehow a magnet on each side. We tried to find the one here, but we never could. Alvin told Owen where the one on the other side was, though. We never knew for sure if he was the one who closed it, but that was our guess.”

“Well, now you know.”

“Where did you see Alvin?” William asked.

“It was actually close to the gate. I was walking down by the river, and he just came up to me and started talki
ng to me. He introduced himself … and he mentioned you.” He didn’t like saying that last part, because he was afraid it was going to open up all sorts of other questions about why he’d been down at the river in the first place. He didn’t want to admit to how much he’d been thinking about Quinn back in Bristlecone.

But nobody commented about him. “Do you think there could be another way to open it?” Quinn asked. “Or another gate?”

“Anything is possible, but … it’s Alvin. I don’t know if he needs a gate.”

“I suppose that’s true,” Q
uinn said, setting her half-filled plate down so she could reach for the baby, who was beginning to fuss. Her eyes were still scanning the field as if she expected him to be here.

“Wait … what?” Zander spluttered. “How could he not need a gate?
”

“Do you want me to finish making your plate?” William asked Quinn, seemingly unperturbed by the whole idea. “You don’t have a sandwich yet.”

“Yeah, he’s hungry again, I think. I’m going to go sit down and feed him. Can you get me a drink, too?”

“Of course. I’ll come find you in a second.”

Quinn carried the baby back toward the bleachers, leaving Zander in open-mouthed shock. Was this kind of conversation just
normal
for them?

When his thoughts were finally halfway coherent again, he turned back to William. “Are you having a greenhouse built wherever you live so Quinn can have those berries
all year?”

“Yes,” William answered. “Although it’s supposed to be a surprise. Who told you?” He frowned. “Linnea wouldn’t have told you.”

“No. It was that guy. Alvin. I had no idea what he was talking about. He called you the king of Phila-whatever.”

“Philotheum.”

“Whatever.”

William chuckled, which sort of angered Zander even more. “Is it just not a big deal to you that there’s some crazy old guy popping back and forth between here and Bristlecone when the gate’s closed – just coming up and starting random conversations with people? It’s not like I mentioned Quinn to him first.”

“It’s Alvin,” William said, like that was some kind of explanation.

“And who is Alvin?”

“He’s … Alvin.”

Zander narrowed his eyes.

“I’m sorry, I know that isn’t a real answer.”

“It’s not an answer at all.”

“I know. But that’s kind of how Alvin is. I don’t know
who
he is exactly. He’s always been around; he’s always looked the same. He shows up when he wants to, and leaves just as easily. He married Quinn and me – both times.”

“Both times?”

“Yes. We had a small ceremony here with just our families – when Quinn’s mother was here – and he appeared for that, and then we had a very large, elaborate public ceremony in Philotheum when we returned there.”

Zander supposed that made sense, but hearing the details like that just made things way too real again.
He shook his head, as if that would somehow clear it. “And you think he could just travel between the worlds, even if the gate was closed?”

“The guards don’t see him when he enters the castle – not here, and not in Philotheum. Nobody’s ever watched him leave, either. I don’t
know
if he can travel between the worlds, but he’s said things in the past that lead me to believe he’s probably able to.”

“So he’s like … magic or something?”

“I don’t know if I would call it magic. Most people here believe that Alvin is sort of a prophet or a messenger from the Maker.”

“The Maker? Like God
?”

“Yes.”

This was definitely getting too weird for Zander. “Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe it wasn’t him.”

“What did he look like?”

“Old guy … sort of, anyway. I don’t think he would have looked old if it wasn’t for the white hair and eyebrows. He was wearing a fly-fishing outfit.”

“Was he fly fishing?”

Zander shrugged. “I think so. He was wet, and it sounded like he had a fish in his creel.”

“And he mentioned Quinn, and he told you that I’m building a greenhouse for her in Philotheum?”

Zander swallowed hard. “Yes.”

“And you think you’d be
less
creeped out if it were someone else?”

“Okay, yeah, probably not.”

William chuckled.

“But why would he come and talk to me in Bristlecone?”

“I don’t know. I can rarely explain anything he does. I’ve never seen him in Bristlecone, and I don’t think Nathaniel ever has – at least he’s never told me anything about it. But Quinn … she’s had dreams about Alvin ever since she was a child.”

“
What
?”

“Yeah. She never realized it – not even the first few times she met him here. But then, when Owen saw him at our wedding, he recognized him. Knew exactly who he was. Apparently Owen has always had dreams about him as well.”

Zander looked over at Owen. He was sitting on the bottom bench of the bleachers, all the way over to one side, chatting with a little girl who had to be one of William’s sisters. She looked just like William, straight dark hair and glasses. She even had her arm bandaged the way William’s was – though it looked much worse on her tiny arm. It must be the sister he’d given the medicine to.

The two of them had a large notebook open between their laps, and they were looking at it,
taking turns drawing in it, and neither one of them was paying attention to anything else around them. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Owen look so peaceful and content in spending time with anyone – except maybe Quinn.

“Is that how Owen knew to get that medicine? He dreamed about it?”
Now that he thought about it, he remembered Owen talking about his dreams – at the time, he guessed he’d just been too preoccupied and freaked out to pay much attention.

“Yes.” William nodded. “Owen still dreams about Alvin, and even about Quinn. Quinn dreams about him, too. The night before the baby was born, she had a dream that she was talking to Owen and he knew about the baby – it’s almost like they communicate to each other that way, and Alvin’s somehow a part of it, too.”

“Is he real?”

“In dreams and in Bristlecone – I don’t know. I think so. Here, in our world, he’s real. We never know where he’s going to show up, but everyone can see him and talk to him when he does. He was just here recently. When the baby was
three days old, Thomas found Alvin in the hallway outside our room. He’d come to meet the prince, he said.”