“Where did these come from?” he asked her with curiosity. This beach had always been a favorite place for him and her mother. Now all that history had been stripped away. It saddened her, but if she succeeded in stopping Morwenna, there would be time to recover his memories. She was drawn back to Kingfountain. The sense of urgency was overwhelming.
“Mother told me that they are the remains of an ancient kingdom that was buried by the Deep Fathoms,” she replied. “The glass from thousands of shattered windows has been rubbed along the coast of Brythonica for centuries. Down there,” she said, gesturing toward the water that was hissing and rolling back to the sea, “are the remains of ancient castles and homes. The land between Brythonica and Westmarch—your duchy—was called Leoneyis and is no more. All that land’s people were drowned. Only
a few survived to bear witness to the destruction. Those who had gathered to safety at the sanctuary of Our Lady at St. Penryn.”
As she said the words, her mind was pierced with a spike of anguish—a horrifying premonition of what was to come. Morwenna had destroyed the borders, so there would be no protection from the flood she planned to invoke. When it happened, all the rest of the duchies would gibber in terror, afraid that they would be next. She saw the darkness that was about to overrun the land. She could not stop the floods from taking Brythonica. So she had to stop Morwenna before she could unleash them.
“We must go, Father,” she said, shaking her head to try to dispel the terrible vision.
“To Kingfountain?” he asked her solemnly.
“Yes, to the sanctuary of Our Lady. Duke Ramey said the Assizes would render judgment today. This is the day Morwenna plans to destroy us. We have to stop her.”
He nodded to her. “I am ready.”
Trynne swallowed and looked at him fiercely. “Her magic cannot hurt you, Papa. It cannot affect those who are standing close to you either. We must get to the king quickly. We saw the Wizr board. They are at Kingfountain now. I can only pray we are not too late.”
The ley lines from Ploemeur went in all directions. It was one of the major hubs on the map that her mother guarded. But she knew if she appeared anywhere in the castle, the Espion would be waiting for them. So Trynne chose the sanctuary of Our Lady. Thousands would gather to see a royal execution. Thousands would watch as a boat with its victim nestled within the hull was launched from the royal pier and handed over to the water for justice. With any luck, they would appear as a couple of unknowns in the crowd. She did not use magic to conceal them for fear of alerting Morwenna too soon.
Trynne and her father appeared in one of the fountains on the grounds of the sanctuary, the breath misting from their mouths. Just as she’d suspected, there were thick crowds. Most were bundled in cloaks and hoods, for the weather had turned severely cold. The entire sanctuary island was filled to the brim, but they were all facing the huge castle on the hill across the river. People were speaking in urgent tones, gossiping about the results from the Assizes.
Trynne and Owen joined the crowd and she led him through the throng, heading toward the area behind the sanctuary where she knew some docks had been constructed. It was not a commonly known place.
“He’s about to go into the river,” someone said. “The king’s guard is carrying the canoe!”
“Shhh! Quiet!”
Trynne and Owen walked hurriedly and her heart hammered in her chest.
“Kill the king’s traitor!” someone shouted. “Drown Staeli in the depths!”
Trynne saw a break in the crowd and tugged her father toward the secluded part of the grounds. The people were all gathering toward the area with the best view, even small children pressing in to try to get a look. Some were on their parents’ shoulders, and she could see many of them pointing toward the royal docks.
Trynne felt the panic of the moment, the worry that they were too late to prevent it. Glancing backward, she saw several men following them, motioning to each other with Espion hand signs.
They’d already been spotted.
“They will truly throw him into the river?” Owen asked in confusion.
“It’s the custom here,” she answered, her voice throbbing with worry. “It almost happened to your parents, but you prevented it.”
“We’re going to the docks, over there?”
“Yes, but we’re being followed—” she said, glancing back again.
The men had started to jog toward them. “Run!” she shouted, gripping her father’s hand.