by Jeff Wheeler
“Lady Evie, are you well? Are you all right?” She gave Gahalatine an accusing look. “What did she tell you about me?” she asked, locking eyes with him as she edged a little closer.
“How you were injured as a child,” Gahalatine answered. “I admire how you’ve overcome your challenges.” His tone told her he meant it. He clasped his hands behind his back, studying her. “She told me you’re the Lady of Averanche, a very small port city on the border between Brythonica and Westmarch. It’s on my maps. I’ve gazed at it from St. Penryn’s. I’ve heard that you stopped entertaining suitors.”
He gave her a pointed look that made her throat catch.
It felt as if the warmth of the room was closing in on her.
“You’ve invaded my kingdom,” she said, trying to gather her wits to her. “You’ve threatened my king.”
Gahalatine shrugged. “Yes, I tend to do that. Tryneowy, I implore you to hear my side. I’m sure you realize that I’ve caught you in my little trap. There are no ley lines from the High Tower. My guardians allowed you to wander in here. I didn’t want it to be too easy, for fear you’d fly away like you did the last time. So much of what I’ve learned about you fascinates me.” He swallowed, taking several steps closer to her, not in a threatening way, but like someone curious to know more. It put more distance between him and Lady Evie. One thing he didn’t seem to know about was the Tay al-Ard she had strapped to her arm. He might not have even heard about the destruction of his fleet at Ploemeur.
“I have heard much about you as well,” she said, matching his tone and a little of his haughtiness. “But what I’ve learned has only deepened my concern about the kind of man you are.”
His brow furrowed. “It is not unjust to claim authority over a kingdom by right of conquest. The history of Kingfountain is ripe with such tales. Surely that cannot offend you.”
Trynne shook her head. “You have that right, as does any king.” She paused and added, “We once had a king whose words could influence people. He was known as a tyrant.”
Gahalatine looked offended. “Are you comparing me with Severn Argentine?”
“No, I fear you may be worse,” Trynne replied, jutting out her chin. She stepped deeper into the room, approaching him but keeping Evie within her field of vision. “You can tell a lot about a man by the dogs he keeps on a leash and the ones he lets roam free.”
Gahalatine’s look changed to one of surprise. His eyebrows lifted. He tapped his heart with his finger. “I am the one on the leash,” he growled. He stepped closer to her. They were still far enough apart that he could not touch her. “And I cannot achieve the vision I have without a strong, courageous woman at my side. I seek, Tryneowy, to change the game that has been played out since the world was new and the boundaries of the Deep Fathoms were first established. The people truly suffer with hunger, blight, and disease because of the squabbling of their leaders and those who crave coin more than they do the well-being of their fellows. And you cannot tell me that such tortures do not happen in your kingdom. I pity the weak and the dispossessed. And I firmly believe that the populace of Kingfountain would welcome my benevolent hand if someone they trusted and respected stood at my side. Think on it, Tryneowy. Together, we could remake the world.”
He was using his magic on her. She saw it was not deliberate—he wasn’t trying to manipulate or coerce her. His convictions were so much a part of his character and his nature that the magic simply spilled out of him when he spoke about them. He was utterly confident that he was meant to rule the world.
But the power of his words, his convictions, could not pierce her heart. The magic of his words swept around her, leaving her with a strong sense of herself and what she believed. And she believed that it was King Drew’s right to rule his own lands. That the Fountain had established him as the benevolent ruler who would—and had—brought peace, slowly, bit by bit. Gahalatine was a like a flood that threatened to sweep everything away. Drew was more patient, steadier. His Wizrs had always served him willingly. Gahalatine obviously wrestled with his own.
“You cannot make me believe you,” Trynne said softly, piercing him with her gaze.
“I know,” he said, a smile on his face. “Do you have any idea how far I have searched for someone like you? There are two young women from the Ceredigion Court who are Fountain-blessed. You and another. The Mandaryn have tried goading and coaxing me into taking the Argentine girl.” His nostrils flared. “The daughter of a king. That is who they would choose for me. But I will not heed the Mandaryn or take a wife of their choosing.” He paused, looking into her eyes, then said, “I fear they have abducted your father. I have had my trusted allies searching for him this last year, and if he were in my domain, I would know of it. So I suspect they are keeping him somewhere in your king’s lands. When I attacked at Guilme, I had hoped to negotiate a marriage treaty with your father for your hand. And now you are here and within my power. Do not flee from me, gentle Tryneowy. You may be the only one who can save me from them.”
Trynne swallowed, her ears ringing from his declarations. Was this the husband her mother had foreseen for her? Was that why Sinia had looked so sad whenever Trynne had asked about the vision?
The door of the chamber was yanked open and guardswomen stormed inside, swords drawn. A man with a silver mask stood amongst them.
“That is her!” He pointed at Trynne. “She is the poisoner from Pisan! She will kill the emperor!”
“Stop!” Gahalatine shouted angrily, holding up his hand. “Be silent!”
Trynne had been so caught up in the rush of magic pouring out of Gahalatine that she hadn’t sensed another source of power building up outside the room. The Mandaryn with the silver mask was using the magical device in his possession to control the guardswomen. They were convinced Trynne was a dangerous threat.
“There are blades in her bag!” the Mandaryn shouted. “Kill her!”
The guardswomen flew at Trynne in a savage fury, rushing at her to defend the emperor they served and cherished. They seemed completely oblivious to his shouted commands.
“Trynne!” Lady Evie shrieked in terror.
“No!” Gahalatine raged, stepping between her and his own guards.
Trynne rushed toward the queen as she fumbled with her sleeve for the Tay al-Ard. She sensed a sword swinging toward her from behind and her magic responded to protect her. Trynne swiveled just in time, and the blade struck the lute case. The strap was severed and the case thumped to the floor. Whipping her leg around, Trynne kicked her attacker in the jaw, knocking her to the ground in a single blow. The next two attackers were almost upon them, but Trynne backstepped toward Lady Evie, pulling the Tay al-Ard free from its bindings.
Gahalatine had heaved two of her attackers away and he turned to gaze at her. His eyes were filled with panic and desperation. It was obvious he thought she was going to be murdered right in front of him, and just as apparent that he was powerless to stop it. The emperor of the Forbidden Court was powerless.
Trynne put the Tay al-Ard between her and Evie, grabbed the queen’s hand with her own, and summoned the magic to take them away as swords slashed down to kill her.
The sound of a blade ringing against the stone lingered in her ears as the magic yanked them away.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Midnight
Trynne’s heart was still racing when they appeared inside the fountain at the small chapel in Kingfountain. A couple of torches flickered from wall sconces at their sudden arrival, and Trynne felt the water soak into her skirts and boots. She didn’t normally get wet when she traveled the ley lines, but the Tay al-Ard was a different magic, and it had brought her exactly where her frantic thoughts had imagined.
She was still clutching Lady Evie’s arm, and the two stared at each other in the shadows for a moment, the stillness of the night such a contrast to the blazing day they had left on the other side of the world.
“That was terrifying,” Lady Evie said at last, rel
easing her panicked grip on Trynne’s arm. “I thought we’d both be killed.” She stifled a sudden yawn.
Trynne was about to reply when she became aware of the presence of Fountain magic. It permeated the very air she breathed, whispering through the corridor like a breeze. It was as if an enormous shroud had fallen over the entire palace. It felt like fog on a misty morning.
Everything was utterly silent.
Trynne’s brow furrowed and she walked to the edge of the fountain and stepped over. The waters sloshed and splashed as she and Lady Evie extricated themselves from it. Water dripped onto the polished marble floor.
Only then did Trynne see the two crumpled bodies that had been concealed by the edge.
Lady Evie gasped, seeing them at the same moment. “Look! Are they dead?”
Trynne knelt by the two bodies that were wearing Espion rings on their right hands. They had been stationed to guard the chapel fountain at all hours, day and night. Her insides quickened with fear and dread, but she heard the men breathing. Both were in a deep slumber.
“Something’s wrong,” Trynne whispered, once again sensing the magic that hung in the air. She jostled one of the men by the shoulder.
The Espion didn’t move; he just rolled onto his back, his mouth parted. It was a magically induced sleep.
“This is unlike Kevan’s men,” Lady Evie said, shaking her head. She stifled another yawn. “They’re supposed to be guarding this place.”
“I think they are under a spell,” Trynne whispered, holding up her hand. She was tempted to reach out with her magic, to divine the source of the shroud. The magic was trying to make her fall asleep, but it could only billow around her and Lady Evie. Trynne realized that her presence was the only thing keeping the Queen of Atabyrion awake.
“It’s so quiet,” Lady Evie whispered. Her look grew more concerned.
Trynne licked her lips. “The Wizr Rucrius was being held prisoner here,” she said. “Morwenna claimed she’d drugged him to sleep before we left to find you.”
“Morwenna said that?” Lady Evie answered in a distrusting tone.
Trynne nodded. “We must go to the king. Let’s make sure he is safe.”
“And my daughter,” Lady Evie said.
They started walking down the dark corridor together. Trynne immediately felt the presence of multiple Fountain-blessed in the audience hall where the Ring Table stood. She discerned there was other magic at work as well. Fear churned inside her. What was happening? Had Rucrius broken free in the night?
They walked as quietly as they could, but without any other sound, their steps seemed loud. There was another knight crumpled on the ground, fast asleep, ahead, hidden by the shadows. Another was sitting up against a pillar, his head lolling to one side. Trynne’s anxiousness grew with each step.
The main door to the audience hall lay just ahead. There were voices coming from it, but the thick door was too heavy for her to understand what was being said. They were the first sounds of life they’d heard since arriving in the fountain.
“My heart is full of dread,” Lady Evie whispered, but her eyes were more angry than fearful.
They stopped outside the door. There were four knights collapsed in front of it, spears splayed out haphazardly. Trynne gripped the cold handle with her free hand, the other still gripping the Tay al-Ard. She was so tempted to reach out with her magic, but she knew it would immediately reveal her to whoever lurked on the other side of that door. Much better for them to crack the door open and take a look. Carefully, she and Lady Evie pulled on the heavy door, Trynne praying all the while the hinges wouldn’t squeak.
The door resisted at first, but then it relented and opened, bringing a crack of light from the audience hall. There were torches lit inside and people were moving around urgently. Trynne blinked and pressed her eye to the slit.
Rucrius stood in the center of the room, his hand resting on the king’s empty chair. He was still wearing the clothes in which he’d been rescued, but he was no longer a prisoner. He was the one barking orders.
“Change into their tunics quickly!” he said impatiently. Trynne saw that there were several warriors in the hall, quickly donning tunics of the Sun and Rose. She recognized their leaf armor from the Battle of Guilme. Her heart shriveled as she realized the palace was being stolen right under their noses. “Then return to the guard posts and pretend to be asleep like the others. When dawn comes, the people will see the treasure ship moored in the harbor. It will cause panic.”
Another Wizr spoke up. Trynne hadn’t noticed him because he was standing before Rucrius, who was much taller. “You know Gahalatine would not wish to win this way.”
“Gahalatine will conquer Kingfountain as he desires,” Rucrius snapped. “Is that not what matters? Their confusion will give us an easy path to victory. The city will fall. Then the king’s champion will lose to our champion, and Gahalatine will challenge the king in combat. Without the Kiskaddon brat, the king will succumb to our power and relinquish the hollow crown.”
“But this is sooner than we agreed upon, Rucrius!” the other Wizr said. She could not see him well, but she recognized him from the Battle of Guilme. He was one of the three Wizrs who had brought Gahalatine to King Drew on the hilltop.
“Events are already in motion, Astorel,” Rucrius said dismissively. “The game goes on. The poisoner is in the Forbidden Court as we speak. She brought our enemy with her.”
The other Wizr chuffed. “Maybe we should just kill the king now and be done with it.”
Trynne’s heart filled with a burning rage. Were they speaking of Drew or Gahalatine? There was a fallen spear on the ground in front of her, only a couple of steps away, and she felt a powerful urge to seize it and hurl it through Rucrius’s back. The temptation was painful. But it was against one of the oaths she had taken as an Oath Maiden, and she would not give in to it. Still, she promised herself Rucrius’s treachery against his own king and hers would be punished.
The sound of boots came from the corridor behind them and she felt the power and presence of Fountain magic once again. Trynne whirled around just in time to see more soldiers marching down the hall, all of them wearing the leaf armor. Lady Evie did the same. Another Wizr was with the warriors, and when they turned the corner, they saw the two women at the door.
The Wizr’s eyes widened in surprise. “Who are you?” he demanded.
She felt something in his eyes, some look of recognition.
The door behind them was shoved open by invisible hands, knocking them both away.
“Rucrius!” the Wizr shouted. “It’s her!”
Trynne summoned her magic to defend herself. She had faced three Wizrs before, but not while fighting so many soldiers—that would be impossible. The magic revealed to her that the power of the sleeping spell was coming from high above the castle. She grabbed Lady Evie by the wrist and used the magic of the Tay al-Ard to bring them to the poisoner’s tower.
The rush of the magic spilled them both to the floor of the tower room, and they landed on their hands and knees. Trynne’s head swam with dizziness, and the force of the magic blasting down from the staff above her rang in her ears. She had sensed the magic coming from the tower earlier, but it had not been activated at the time. It was certainly active now. The power radiating from it was so immense, it had rendered the entire palace asleep except for those the Wizrs had made immune to it.
Trynne kicked open the balcony window and stepped outside, knowing her time was measured in moments. She gazed out at a sea of fog shrouding Kingfountain’s lower harbor beneath the falls. The fog was thick and unnatural, most unusual for the season, but she still saw the hulking treasure ship coming up the river. The crews and ships stationed at the harbor would not be able to see it coming. She heard the rush of the waterfall and realized with despair that the city was lost.
The Wizrs were controlling events, not Gahalatine. Trynne’s hasty visit to the Forbidden Court had merely accelerated the plans they’d a
lready been brewing.
Morwenna was involved in the plot. Trynne was certain of it. The Wizrs had chosen Severn’s daughter to be Gahalatine’s queen. Was she wittingly part of it, or a pawn in the scheme?
At that point, it didn’t matter. Trynne had to get the king away from the palace. She was the only one who could. Gazing at the peak of the tower, she saw something crackling with power. A staff had been bound to the steeple, strapped with leather. It was the source of the magic.
“Anoichto ekluo!” Trynne commanded, gazing up at the staff bound to the tower spike. With her words, she unmade the fastenings of the straps and the staff fell from the spike, hurtling and spinning as it fell from the heights and cracked to pieces on the cobbles far below.
The fog of magic in the air vanished.
Save the king.
Her heart quailed with dread when she heard the whisper from the Fountain. She was still dizzy from using the Tay al-Ard, but she rushed back into the chamber. Lady Evie’s face was ashen with concern, but she looked determined.
“We’ve lost the palace,” Lady Evie murmured darkly. “Haven’t we?”
Trynne nodded. “Their game does not end until they have the crown,” Trynne said. “I need to take the king to shelter. The people will rally to fight for him. I think Dundrennan would be the strongest defense.”
“It will,” Lady Evie agreed passionately. “It is the strongest castle we have. I know it is. The ships cannot reach it, and the soldiers there will be loyal to the king. More so than to my own son.”
Trynne nodded. “I will take us all there. Come!” She locked hands with Lady Evie and quickly envisioned the king’s private chamber. They vanished, wrenched away by the magic.
The room was dark save for the burning embers still glowing from the brazier. Trynne stumbled, her legs turning to jelly from having used the magic so many times in such a short while. She was nauseated and felt like vomiting, but she uttered the word of power to restore her strength, feeling the power sip from her magic stores.
