“I am so glad you came,” Trynne said, coming around the table.
He stuffed the hood into his belt. His eyes were fierce. “I only heard the news yesterday,” he said, then sniffed. “Mariette is in charge while I’m gone. She’s a clever one, that lass.” He gave her a small smile. “Rani Reya’s not far behind her. She’s forged these strange hooklike swords. Very unnatural way to make a blade.”
Trynne laughed. “Yes, compared to our ways,” she agreed. She reached out and gripped his hands. “Thank you for coming. We’re about to be invaded, I think. Death has struck my family. I could use a friend at the moment.”
Staeli’s cheeks reddened at her words. “I’ve watched over you since you were a wee lass,” he said. “If Dragan has done this ill deed, as I suspect he has, then I will bring him to justice.” He sniffed. “I swear it by the Fountain.” The smoldering rage in his eyes was frightening—or it would have been had it been directed at her.
“I must bear the loss as best I can,” Trynne said. “But I would caution you against seeking revenge. I need you to help me fight a war, my friend.” She went to the table and pulled him with her. Unfurling one of the maps, she pointed along the coast. “I’ve ordered the fleet to patrol these waters. I’ve set up riders to relay messages back to the king along the main roads here, and also here to alert Occitania. Westmarch is close and can be ready quickly to come to our aid. So can the army of Pree. Fallon said that Dundrennan will come, but that’s much farther away.” Her finger glided to that spot on the map, her heart tightening at the thought.
“Duke Fallon means well,” Staeli said with a nod. “I encountered him and his hunter on the way here.”
Trynne looked up from the map, her nose wrinkling. “He was alone.”
Staeli sniffed, shaking his head. “No, he was with a hunter from Dundrennan. I recognized the lad, although he’s older now. I fought with your father and Captain Ashby at the battle that deposed Severn Argentine. The lad is in his thirties now, a man grown. Carrick. He’s Fountain-blessed. The lad is famous for his tracking.”
A feeling of dread opened inside Trynne’s chest. Both she and the captain knew what mission had brought Carrick to Brythonica in the past. He had been sent to search the grove where her father had disappeared—to no avail.
“Where did you see them?” she asked, her voice suddenly hoarse.
“They were leaving the road that cuts through the woods with the grove,” Staeli said, folding his arms. “I take it they didn’t have your permission to be there.”
Unfolding his arms, he stretched out his hand and tapped his finger on the forest that held the magic bowl and the stone altar. It was labeled as a royal hunting wood on the map. There was no other marking to give it significance, but of course the captain didn’t need to be told. Her father had assigned him to be protector of Brythonica—and the grove—should anything happen to him. While she didn’t like to think of it, the captain wore the ring that went with the station.
The one that had been found on her father’s severed hand.
I must get away from this prison. The man with the silver mask’s body is crumpled on the floor. I did not intend to overpower him, but the thought came to me so forcefully, especially when he used an artifact of magic on me. I felt its power emanating from him like a storm. He was frantic, muttering something about the need to move me in the next few days. The dungeon where I’m being kept is about to be overrun. I must be moved and moved quickly. He tried to use his power to make me submissive and afraid. But it could not affect me. It was strange, because I felt its force and understood his intent, but it did not compel me to do his bidding. The jailor had left us alone together.
When he saw his power did not move me, the man in the mask grew frightened of me. How did I know? The mask hid his expression. It’s just that I knew his weakness, knew that he was intimidated by me. So I struck him with the chains. He crumpled to the floor. If I could remove these chains, I could take his silver mask and cloak and make him wear my meager clothing and mask. The jailor wouldn’t know that he was being deceived. It might give me a chance to escape, to find help from whoever is coming. The jailor has the keys. How can I remove them?
There was a whisper. A single word. The chains have opened. But there is no one else here with me.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The Breaking
It was the day of the Gauntlet of Kingfountain and Trynne longed with all her heart to be there. But she knew it was the Fountain’s will that she remain behind. She didn’t understand it, but she accepted it. She gazed out the window of the solar, ignoring the plate of food that had been set before her as the evening meal. She’d lost her appetite completely after the carriage crash. Every mouthful was difficult, and she found herself doing little more than picking at the plates set before her.