phone call
Quentin listened quietly to what she said, but he couldn't imagine an entire life never knowing magic was real. He knew it couldn't fix things. It was going to kill his father, but the Fillory of the Chatwins had been so wonderful. The Fillory he spent an entire life in was magic and it wasn't perfect, but nothing was. He kept all of this to himself, though. He'd noted the shift in tone, the change in her voice.
There was a moment of pause. "I didn't say you had to take the blame for my dad, Alice. I knew what I was doing. I just didn't know that I'd had the option. Maybe I didn't think about it then, maybe there was another plan. Maybe there wasn't. I don't know because I don't know that far ahead. I was just talking out loud." But he'd made it sound that way.
He felt a moment of frustration for the fact that Eliot was upset with him for making a decision without consulting everyone when both he and Alice had made decisions without consulting everyone and both of those decisions had fucked things up in some way. "Just..." He sighed. "I don't know. I wish I knew more, understood more."