“There’s the other! It’s Kiskaddon!”
“Kill him!”
These men had clearly been chosen for their resentment against her family, against her husband. These were soldiers of Glosstyr, men fiercely loyal to Severn, not the Sun and Rose, and their loyalty still bound them. Trynne could not stop those who charged toward her father with murderous intent.
She cracked skulls with the hilts of her swords, slammed her elbows into chins and noses. But there were still too many, and she felt her limits straining. Someone grabbed her by the collar, and she felt her boots slip on the brackish ground. She whirled and collided with someone who punched her in the ribs with a gauntlet-encased fist. Another blow struck the back of her head and pain erased every other sensation for a moment. She knew she was going to fall an instant before it happened—and then she slammed flat on her back with a heavy thud.
One of her swords was gone, but she kicked a man in the knee and fought from the ground as she watched the web of swords converging on her.
And then the crack of thunder sounded, so loud it nearly deafened Trynne. So loud it stunned the warriors and suspended their assault.
A few drops of water fell. Then it started to hail.
Huge chunks of ice began to plummet into the grove. They fell amidst the soldiers, who began to shout and wail in terror and panic.
Some tried to flee, only to be struck down by the apple-sized stones.
The storm buffeted the men of Glosstyr, knocking them down mercilessly. Some tried to cover their heads and seek shelter in the nearby woods.
Trynne felt the ice slamming into the ground all around her, but she was surprised to realize that none touched her. Then her father was at her side, shielding her body with his. He didn’t realize that their variety of Fountain magic protected them from the icy deluge.
He looked frightened and awed by the display—the way Trynne had felt the first time he had shown her the power of the grove. The ground was soon blanketed in white, the leaves of the oak tree stripped away. The storm seemed to last forever, but it finally ended, and sunlight glittered across the frozen grove.
Heaps of men lay scattered around. All their foes were down.
Trynne lifted herself up on her sore arms. The only noise in her throbbing ears was the sound of heavy breathing—hers and her father’s—and the trickling sound of the waterfall. She sensed no other life in the grove and she realized that the Fountain had slain all the men of Glosstyr.
Then the sweet trilling of birdsong filled the void, the hauntingly beautiful sound that never failed to move her after the devastation wrought by the grove’s storms. She sat up and Owen sat down, stunned at the chorus that swelled in the air. He stared at the oak tree that was no longer barren but full of a variety of birds, each singing a part of the melody. As they filled the sky with music, the buds of the oak tree regrew and suddenly it was complete again.
“There’s someone at the tree,” Owen said, looking keenly at it.
Trynne caught just the subtle shift of movement and then remembered Fallon’s warning.
“Don’t look at her,” she said. The grove felt wrong now, hostile.
“We must not look, or we’ll both forget who we are. That’s what happened to you before, Papa.”
The ice melted away, bathing the glen. Drips of water plopped from the ferns and bracken. The gateway back to Muirwood was open. She sensed it calling her, urging her to go back to Fallon, to be with him there. The pain in her heart was real and it hurt beyond her reckoning, but she had a duty to perform in Kingfountain. She could not fulfill her own wishes at that moment. Not when so much was at stake. Still, she was determined to bring Fallon back somehow and prayed she would not be too late. She and her father sat in the quiet damp, listening as the birdsong finished. And then the portal to Muirwood closed. She felt empty inside when it did.
“That was frightening,” Owen said, chuckling softly.
Trynne gazed at his expression and smiled. “The first time you came here, it was with a poisoner named Etayne. She almost died in the hail, but you shielded her too.”
Owen nodded with interest. “What’s our next move?”
“I guess that depends on what we see on the Wizr board.”
His brow wrinkled. “Wizr?”
“That’s right, you don’t know of it. I suppose they don’t play Wizr in that other world. You have Fallon’s pack. Open it and draw out the chest.”
She watched as her father did just that. Fishing through the pack again, she found the key that would open it.