Page 21 of For the Love of the Quest

“That wasn’t much of a warning!” Edith seethed, straining against Thomasin’s hold.

“It’s best not to think too much about what’s going to happen.”

True to her word, Thomasin slid the sharp point of the needle into Edith’s skin without any further preamble. Edith clenched her teeth and used every ounce of willpower she had to lie still. Luckily, it seemed she only needed a few stitches, and Thomasin’s fingers were fast and sure as she knitted the wound together.

“I’m impressed,” Thomasin said to Edith after she finished. “This is a big milestone in the career of any good adventurer.”

Edith peeked hesitantly at the wound. A jagged weave of turquoise thread held her skin together. “It’ll leave a scar,” she said, somewhat regretfully.

Thomasin shrugged as she tore another strip from her tunic. “Scars are hot.”

If Edith weren’t already flushed and clammy, she would have blushed the brightest, most embarrassing shade of red she ever had before. Her blank look and lack of witty response was embarrassing enough on its own, though. She just hoped Thomasin was focused only on bandaging her shoulder back up and not on the way Edith was currently melting into the earth.

With an arm around Edith’s shoulders, Thomasin helped her sit up. Thankfully, the stitches held, and the bandage stayed white. “We should probably get out of here,” Thomasin said. “Do you think you can stand?”

“Only one way to find out.” The ground beneath Edith’s feet lurched violently, or at least felt like it did, as she rose to her feet. She leaned against Thomasin, who supported her with a strong arm around her middle. When Edith’s legs didn’t buckle, Thomasin slowly let her arm drop. Despite herself, Edith wished that she would have stayed close just a little longer. But that was a foolishthought, spurred on by exhaustion. Her body felt all jangly and heavy. She couldn’t be expected to think straight so soon after being speared by an arrow. A smile ghosted her lips.Edith Darling was shot by a booby-trapped arrow.She imagined the people back home saying it. Her family, the servants. They would all be so surprised at her daring, and Edith would be so wonderfully vindicated. Pride bloomed deep in her chest, and that feeling was worth the pain still throbbing in her shoulder, and the shakiness of her legs as she forced them to take one step after another.

“Careful,” Thomasin said as she followed close at her heels. “No need to rush.”

The more Edith moved, though, the more her senses returned to her. This had been arguably the best day of her life, but she was ready to be aboveground again. She wanted fresh air and the sharp breeze against her skin. “I’m okay,” she reassured Thomasin.

Slowly, they made their way back through the dark passage. Edith’s strength did ebb the farther they walked, and Thomasin was there in an instant, taking Edith’s wrist and slinging her arm over her shoulder. Edith tried not to put too much of her weight on Thomasin, but she feared she wasn’t very successful. By the time the stairs came into view, Edith felt like crying at the sight of them. The prospect of dragging her utterly worn-out body up each and every one of those steps made her want to curl up and die. She was already out of breath from the slight upward slant of the passage. Her feet stuttered to a stop of their own accord, and she felt Thomasin’s eyes on her.

“Why don’t you wait down here for a couple minutes? It’ll probably be best for me to talk to Worthing alone first. He won’t like that there’s no treasure yet, and it’ll take some persuasion to get him on board with finding the next clues.” Thomasin’s voice was uncharacteristically hesitant, unconfident even. “Worthing can be volatile, and I don’t want him to lash out at you.”

Edith did not fear Worthing, and she thought Thomasin was perhaps being a little overdramatic. She also did not relish the idea of waiting out of sight like some fragile flower. But the idea of taking a rest before marching herself up the steps was too good to resist. Especially because she wouldn’t have to admit to Thomasin that she needed a break.

“Are you sure?” Edith lifted her arm from around Thomasin’s shoulders, and leaned back against the cold, cobblestone wall.

Thomasin’s eyes flitted around the room. Her jaw clenched as she swallowed, and her nod was stiff. With a quick, tight smile in Edith’s direction, she said, “I’ll be back quick as I can.”

Edith smiled back, hating that Thomasin had to put up with someone so hostile as Worthing. As Thomasin turned to leave, she paused, looking back at Edith for a long moment. Her lips parted, and she seemed almost about to speak. That dark look was back in her eyes. But then, with a sharp exhale, she pivoted back around and strode up the stairs, her long legs taking them two at a time.

Wiping the sweat from her brow, Edith tested her shoulder, rolling it ever so slightly, only to be rewarded with a lance of pain. She thought about sitting, but worried she would be too wrung out to get back up. Instead, she closed her eyes and tipped her head back. Just this once, she was content to wait alone in the dark.

Chapter Ten

Thomasin was a terrible person. She had always known that. And yet, being a terrible person had never felt so, well—terrible, before. But if Thomasin had told Edith the truth about the ransom, then Edith would have been so angry she likely would have run off back to her father and never finished her quest. She would be devastated, and her dreams would be dead. So, if one thought about it, Thomasin was really preserving Edith’s dream by concealing the truth from her. Maybe if she kept telling herself that, it would start to feel true.

The daylight filtering into the passage grew brighter, and Thomasin gritted her teeth. She drew a dagger in one hand and her pistol in the other as she took the last few steps, preparing herself for whatever scene was brewing aboveground. If Edith’s father was already here she would—

Damn it. She had no idea what she would do. Thomasin couldn’t very well kill Edith’s father to get them out of this. Whatever she did, it had to be quick. If Thomasin knew Edith, and she really did think she was starting to, then Edith would not wait out of sight for long.

The first thing she saw when she emerged from Arthur’s Stone was the back of Worthing’s greasy head. He and Jay turned to face her at the sound of her metal buckles and knives clanging against the stone rim. Heart in her throat, Thomasin looked past them, scanning the trees. The forest was mercifully, miraculously, empty. Her entire body sagged in relief. She had never felt so wildly fortunate in her entire life, and she thanked whatever stupid god had allowed her this stroke of luck.

“Where’s Edith?” Jay’s tone was stark, and concern lined his features. “Did you find the treasure?”

“She’s fine. And no.” Thomasin brushed by them, holstering her pistol. “Edith’s father isn’t here?”

“Not yet,” Jay answered, impatience simmering in his tone. If Thomasin weren’t so distracted, she would have reprimanded him.

“Good. We need to leave immediately. Get the horses ready while I get Edith.”

Jay jumped into action at once but still threw the question over his shoulder. “What about the ransom?”

Thomasin stilled, halfway turned to Arthur’s Stone. She felt their eyes on her. Jay’s carefully blank, Worthing’s mutinous. “We’re not ransoming her anymore,” she said.

Jay nodded once, then went to saddle the horses. Worthing stalked over to her and said in a deep growl, “I don’t know what the fuck you think you’re doing, but we need that gold.”