She kept her swords out and backed toward the tree. “Fallon, get us out of here,” she said worriedly, sensing the presence of others converging on their location.
Fallon had sheathed his sword and tugged off his glove. “Lord Owen,” he said, coming near. Trynne saw him tug at his own finger.
“This is yours by right and duty. Put it on. You must be the one to use it.”
The noise of boots crunching in the woods came from all around them. “Fallon, can’t you bring us back like you brought us here?” Trynne asked, confused.
Owen held out his hand and groped for the ring. He slid it onto his ring finger and then clenched his fist.
“What do I do?” he asked Fallon.
“Trynne, take his arm. Put your palm on the tree so that the ring touches the bark. The magic will bring you back to the grove in Brythonica. You’ll reappear in the cave.”
The way he said the words implied that he would not be going with them. A spear of panic spiked into her stomach. “Iago Fallon Llewellyn, you are coming with us!”
She watched him take several deliberate steps backward, away from them, away from the tree.
“I can’t,” he said, shaking his head.
“Fallon!” she said angrily. It felt as if everything inside her was as jumbled as rocks tumbling down a mountainside. “Get over here.”
“I can’t, Trynne!” he said, shaking his head. He unslung his pack. “I’ve put a note explaining things in the chest. The key is in the pack. Take it with you. Save Kingfountain from Morwenna. I cannot go back with you.”
He hefted the pack by the strap and threw it to Owen, who caught it with a grunt.
Fallon kept backing away, shaking his head. “I choose to stay willingly. It must be done willingly or the magic won’t work. Good-bye, Trynne. Good-bye, Lord Owen.”
The haunted look on his face devastated her. He had known he would not be coming back with them. He’d kept it to himself, not telling her the full truth until the very end, when there was nothing she could do about it.
A memory from Myrddin’s cave flashed through her mind. The Wizr had said something about rules separating the worlds. He’d seemed on the verge of saying more, but he’d shifted his attention to Fallon and stopped himself . I will say nothing more on that. I see it clearly. There are rules. I did not create them. Even I must abide by them. Myrddin’s gift from the Fountain was the ability to read people’s minds. He had silenced himself because he’d seen Fallon’s intention to sacrifice himself for her father, to trade places with him.
Fallon would remain behind so that Owen could leave. It was why Quivel was so desperate. He had been left behind and had wanted to bargain his way back to their home world.
“No,” Trynne said, stifling a sob as she stared at Fallon’s retreating form. He was nodding at her now, seeing that she finally understood. She recognized Dragan’s role as well. It had been Morwenna’s intent all along to trap him in this place. But her plan had changed after he was captured. He knew too much, so she’d wiped away his memories before he could denounce her.
Her heart swelled to the point of bursting. Fallon had done everything in his power to save her father. But in so doing, he had condemned himself to a world that would be destroyed by plague and violence.
“Go,” Fallon said tenderly. “There was no other way. One of us had to stay. If you can’t be mine, then it’s better this way. Tell my parents. Tell my sister. I chose this willingly.”
“Over there! I see them by the oak!”
The noise of people crashing through the woods shattered the moment. Fallon drew his sword and turned to face the soldiers rushing toward the tree.
Hot tears streaked down Trynne’s face. She loved Fallon so much in that moment, it stole her breath away. She would never love Gahalatine like this.
Owen stared at Fallon, hesitation in his eyes. She was duty-bound to save Brythonica, so she could not stay. It would have been impossible for her to choose between them. She loved both of them deeply. Fallon had made the difficult choice for her. It felt as if her heart had been ripped in half, but she clutched her father’s arm.
Trynne hung her head and began to sob as her father placed his hand on the crooked oak. A prick of light came from the tree, swelling until it was so bursting and dazzling it hurt—a radiance so penetrating that she had to hold up her hand to protect her eyes.
Then everything moved.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Wizr Board
The brightness of the glen was replaced by the darkness of the cave.