They approached a group of soldiers wearing the queen’s tunic, and Fallon said they had orders to leave the abbey and row to the mainland. A few minutes later, they were on a boat. With each stroke and grunt of the soldiers’ oars, Trynne felt a little better, but she still ached for Martin and his granddaughter. He had wanted to save her by destroying the Leering that made hetaera.
But his plan had failed. And the failure also meant they would not be able to break the hetaera’s curse from Morwenna either.
The night was cold and Trynne gathered her cloak more tightly around her. They had brought their packs with them and would seek out her father after reaching the shore. She brooded on the scene they had witnessed, on the way a fell creature had possessed the queen. She had never experienced such a thing before, and never wished to again. Despite some similarities to her home, this land felt so foreign and bizarre to her, like an oozing wound that wouldn’t heal.
She didn’t know how long she was lost in her thoughts when she heard one of the soldiers murmur, “Look! It’s burning!”
She had been facing forward on the bench, hip to hip with Fallon, and they both turned at the same time and saw that the abbey atop the spike of the island was ablaze. Her heart panged with dread and sadness as she watched the flames roaring. How could a structure made of stone burn like that? But it did burn, and unwanted tears blurred her eyes as she watched it. How many centuries had that abbey stood there, a beacon in the water? She could almost hear in her mind the distant echoes of hammers and chisels and creaking ropes. And yet it would be destroyed in a single night.
“By the Rood,” one of the soldiers muttered. “She was the last abbey.”
“Aye, man. They’re all gone now. Good riddance,” said another.
Trynne’s heart was heavy as she watched Dochte burn.
The shore was full of soldiers and tents when they arrived, but Trynne and Fallon were both wearing the tunic of the queen’s guard.
They were neither challenged nor questioned. Even if the queen had sent word right away for them, the Tay al-Ard had helped them outrun the speed of any messenger. While they had no intention to linger, they found a small tent for some privacy. Fallon removed the Wizr chest from his pack and unlocked it, and there was just enough light from the torch poles outside the tent for them to see the gleaming board.
“Here we are,” Fallon said, pointing to their pieces on the board.
“There is the black queen, right next to us. The king is already here in the camp, it seems. Look how close we are.”
“Martin was right,” Trynne said, pointing to the white king across the board. Another white knight was near it. “Dieyre and my father are still to the east, but we’re closing the distance. Only a few squares away.”
Fallon nodded and gently closed the lid and locked it. “Then let’s keep going. I don’t want to be here in the morning when new orders arrive.”
“Agreed.”
Fallon rose and then held out his hand to help her rise, a simple kindness that meant even more in this place drenched in gloom and despair. Working silently, they secured their gear and left the tent.
Most of the soldiers were asleep, but there were a few clustered together, staring at the abbey burning in the distance and muttering among themselves. Soon the camp was behind them and they took an eastward road through woods. The sentries posted there merely nodded in respect as they passed, and she was grateful that Martin had provided, although unintentionally, the means for them to pass unmolested.
After the fatigue of several hours of walking in moonlight, they shed their tunics in the bushes. Wearing them deeper into enemy territory would be foolhardy. Not long after, Trynne felt something ahead on the trail, the presence of Fountain magic.
“There is a Leering ahead,” she whispered.
Trynne found it just off the road, hidden amidst thick brush. The face had been carved into an existing boulder. As she approached it, she felt its magic calling to her. It captivated her in a strange way, and she felt the ripples and murmurs of the Fountain. It felt familiar and peaceful—a stark contrast to the horrors of the dungeon and the hetaera lair in Dochte.
Fallon walked around the boulder, inspecting it from all sides.
“The carvings are new,” he announced.
Trynne was trying to understand why the stone felt so appealing. A sudden insight struck her. It was a water Leering. As if activated by the thought, the eyes on the carving glowed bright red and water started gushing from its mouth. Fallon scrambled backward in surprise, making her smile.