Dieyre’s composure broke completely. “Ciana!” he hissed, as if seeing an apparition inside the tent. His arm started shaking. She saw his mind was completely overcome. She’d struck him at a primal level, and his body reacted despite his years of training.
Despite the fact that he knew it was a trick.
Dieyre lunged at her to try to stab the ghost image of his beloved to death. She’d been counting on that, for her power was always strongest when she was on the defense. The magic came to her aid. With reflexes faster than a snake strike, she stepped aside from the lunging thrust meant to skewer her and trapped his wrist against her body with her elbow. She stepped forward, twisting as she moved, and smashed him in the cheek with her forearm.
Dieyre tried to lever his boot around her, but she hooked his instead and suddenly he was falling backward on the ground. She released the trapped wrist and let him fall hard. His eyes were frantic, but he’d managed to keep his sword. He waved it in front of him on the ground, trying to deflect attacks that weren’t coming.
Trynne walked around him, and he scuttled backward.
“You will soon be the king of nothing,” she told him. She kept the image of his beloved on her face and taunted him with it. The flow of the Fountain came to her, the words gushing from her mouth.
“You have refused to believe the warnings. You were given a chance to forsake your pride, but you denied it. If you survive the battle that is coming, you will rule over dead men’s bones. All your life you have sought something you could never obtain. And now your destruction is certain.”
His teeth were bared like an animal’s, his eyes flashing with mortal hatred. “Will your ilk never stop preaching at me! I would have submitted if I’d gotten her! If I’d gotten what I wanted! I would have given up everything, but no, the Medium wouldn’t give me what I wanted.”
“What you craved was unattainable. And even it would not have satisfied you,” Trynne said. “There is nothing you can do to stop the end now. Nothing.”
“Enough!” Dieyre snarled. He twisted his body, trying to lunge at her with his sword.
She stabbed her blade down and impaled his forearm with it, the blade buried deep in the earth beneath the tent. Dieyre stared at the weapon in horror, his cheeks twitching as the pain started to bloom inside him.
The agony had to be intense, but he did not cry out in pain.
Instead, he opened his mouth to call for his guards.
Owen knelt and clubbed him on the temple with his dagger.
All went silent.
We have Staeli’s army surrounded, and yet he refuses to yield. Heralds between camps issue back and forth to press the negotiations. He says he will not surrender without direct orders from Trynne. She is nowhere to be found, of course. The king wishes to prevent needless bloodshed. How weak he is. Brythonica is without protection. I walked the shores of the beach of sea glass just last night. There was no one to stop me.
No guardians save a small group of soldiers whom I easily deceived. I sensed magic coming from the caves along the rocky shore. If I still had the ring of the grove, I could have found out what was hidden there, but now I must wait until the tide goes out to discover Sinia’s secrets. There must be a reason she always strolled that beach. I’m determined to find out why.
Morwenna Argentine
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Prey
While Trynne bound up the King of Dahomey’s wrist wound, her father shackled and gagged him. They hoisted up his body and concealed it under a pile of fur blankets at the side of the tent, but before the last blanket settled atop him, the sound of ripping fabric filled the space. Trynne whirled around to find a dagger shearing through the back wall.
Fallon stuck his head through the hole, his eyes bright, his grin cocky and victorious. “I have it,” he said.
She wanted to hug him right then and there. Instead, she gripped her father’s arm and they hurried over to the tear in the tent wall and stepped into the darkness of the night. The soldiers were all gathered around cookfires for heat and their supper, so no one paid the three of them any mind as they tromped through the large camp.
“Where is Quivel?” Trynne asked as they passed through a veil of smoke that stung her eyes. A set of soldiers was roasting a serpent to supplement their meat.
“Over there,” Fallon answered with a gesture. “I knocked him out and took the Tay al-Ard and his kystrel.”
“This way,” Owen said, leading the way through the camp.
“There are over twenty thousand soldiers camped here. It’ll take some time for us to cross the army and reach the woods. Dieyre will send hunters and maybe a kishion after us.”