Page 27 of For the Love of the Quest

Edith’s shoulders dropped, and Thomasin couldn’t hold her solemn expression anymore. Her laughter broke past the dam, and she plopped down on her back.

“You ass,” Edith said, but Thomasin could hear the smile in her voice.

“I’ve never heard you swear before.”

“Well, the situation has never called for it before.”

“I don’t know aboutthat.”

“So, when are we actually leaving?” Edith said.

“I told you, when you’ve had a chance to heal up some.”

“But—”

“Don’t argue with me, I’m sleeping.”

Edith grumbled, but Thomasin felt the mattress jostle, and when she peeked her eyes open, Edith had lain down fully, arms crossed in a mirror to Thomasin. There was merely a foot of space between them, and although Edith was below the covers and Thomasin above, she swore she could feel the warmth radiating from the other woman. Thomasin had never once enjoyed sharing a bed with another human. Sure, she’d had her trysts, but she was always out the door before anyone had the chance to even begin to doze off. Sleeping in the same bed as someone was the worst kind of intimacy. She knew she’d never be able to relax into the vulnerability of it all. It was why she’d had Worthing and Jay set up camp at the crest of a hill just past the inn, so once she knew that Edith was awake and safe, she could retreat to the peace of her own bedroll.

But she hadn’t gotten up yet. She shouldn’t have even lain down on the bed in the first place. It was a ridiculous thing to indulge, the need to be closer to Edith, to feel that she was well and truly alive. But she had done it, and now Edith was dozing off, looking perfectly content. And Thomasin argued with herself until sleep claimed her too.

The days passed quietly, simply. There was nothing for them to do but wait for Edith to heal enough to travel. It only took one day for Edith to start begging them to set off again. Thomasin had once endured three whole days of torture under the hands of a rival gang. She hadn’t let slip a single piece of information, hadn’t acquiesced to a single one of their demands, hadn’t broken once.

It took Edith only two days to break her.

“Fine! We’ll leave in the morning, you relentless devil.”

Edith threw her hands in the air, wincing before letting her injured arm fall back against her side.

“Careful,” Thomasin scolded.

“You worry too much.” Edith practically skipped around the room in victory, packing her things in her satchel.

“Well maybe if you had even an ounce of self-preservation, I wouldn’t have to,” Thomasin grumbled. She settled in the chair, rocking it onto its back legs and stretching her own legs out to rest on the edge of the bed. She pulled out her flask and took a deep swig. When she tucked the flask back into her pocket, her fingers brushed against the little cloth bag she had forgotten she’d looted from the highwaymen.

She held it up, shaking the contents in Edith’s direction. “Have you ever smoked hash?”

Edith stilled mid-step and pivoted to face her. “Of course I haven’t.”

Thomasin smiled. “Do you want to?”

Drifting closer to where Thomasin lounged, Edith asked, “What does it feel like?”

“Like your mind finally shuts up and your body just gets to kinda … float.” Thomasin tilted her head back, staring at the mildew-stained ceiling as she tried to conjure up the right words to describe the feeling.

“It won’t make me sick or anything?” Edith’s button nose scrunched up, lips pursing in concern.

Thomasin smiled fondly. “It shouldn’t.”

Edith’s eyes went unfocused as she seemed to retreat deep into her thoughts. Her hands clasped together at her waist, fingers fidgeting. Thomasin honestly didn’t know which way she was going togo. She knew that there was a side of Edith that craved danger, new experiences. But she’d also come to learn that Edith often let her doubts have the last word. In fact, Thomasin theorized that this quest was the first thing Edith had ever done to step outside her little zone of perfect, planned safety.

“Let’s do it.” Edith’s voice was quiet, yet resolute. The little self-satisfied smile on her face made Thomasin’s heart soar.

“Yes!” Thomasin let the front legs of her chair crash to the floor and strode over to Edith, wrapping her arms around her in a rough hug. Edith laughed, arms encircling Thomasin’s middle. After a beat, Thomasin pulled back and took the other woman by her shoulders. “I always knew you were a little rebel.”

“Well, I’m doing my best.” Edith exhaled roughly. “I’m a little nervous, though,” she admitted with a laugh.

Thomasin led her across the room, and they sat across from each other on the bed. Edith’s eyes followed her closely as she reached for her bag and pulled out her old pipe. The thing was well loved. She pressed the paste into the pipe, then took the little box of matches from one of her pockets. She lit the pipe and took a long drag. Thomasin held the vapor in her chest for a long moment, then exhaled a smooth stream of smoke, relishing the feel of the drug hitting her blood and softening the edges of her world.