“Tell me,” Trynne said in a low, dangerous voice.
Dragan shook his head. “First, ye open this little rat trap. I swear I won’t harm ye further.”
“You think I trust you?” Trynne said with annoyance. “You got your daughter killed. I know the stories. She died saving my father’s life. It was your fault.”
He clucked his tongue. When he resumed speaking, his accent was less affected. He was comfortable speaking to any class, it would seem. “I know what I know, lass. A daughter’s duty is to her father, is that not the way of things? Now let me out of this cage. You can help me. And then I will help you. There are answers I can give you. Answers worth a king’s ransom, I should think, if you only knew them. It won’t save your king’s life. Nothing can do that now. But it could help you, lass. It could bring back your father.”
Trynne stared at him. He was desperate for any way to escape the punishment he knew was coming. He had stolen all his life and he knew his life would be forfeit now that he had been caught.
“I couldn’t believe anything you told me,” Trynne said with a shake of her head. “You’re a liar and a thief. You’re not acquainted with the meaning of truth.”
He pressed his face against the bars, his eyes burning into hers. His lips quivered with rage. “I’m a liar, am I? The secrets I know are valuable.”
“Prove it.”
“Your father was summoned to a grove of trees in Brythonica,” Dragan said. “How would I know that except if I was there? He had a little ring . . . a ring on his finger. No one could see it, but it was there.”
Trynne’s stomach twisted with dread. Dragan knew.
“I see by the twitch of your cheek that you know I’m right. There’s more, lass. I know where the ring is.”
Trynne narrowed her eyes. “How could you know that?”
He grinned at her, his teeth rank and rotting. “Lass, open the gate and I’ll tell you all. My stash means nothing to me if I’m trapped in here. I was the one who captured him. But I was paid to do it by someone who knew about the grove. Who knew about the silver dish and what would happen if water were poured from it onto the slab. That was the trick, you see. That was how we got him. I had some sanctuary men with me.”
“You cut off his hand and left the ring in the grove,” Trynne said, barely controlling the fury she felt as she stepped forward again, gazing into his green eyes.
He shook his head. “No, lass. That wasn’t his hand!” he said. “It was only made to look like it. It was meant to throw you off the trail, looking for a one-handed man. But I kept the ring, sez I. And I know where it is. You have a decoy. A copy. She’s very good at copying.”
Trynne jumped on the clue instantly. “She?”
Dragan’s cheek twitched. He’d revealed more than he’d intended. “I will be killt for what I know, lass. Come, little dove. Open the gate. I’ll tell you all. You’ve a spider in the corner. A spider with fangs.”
Morwenna.
The grating of an iron door startled her. Her heart raced as she turned toward the sound of approaching bootfalls. Dragan tried to gaze past Trynne, but the light had made it impossible to see.
Trynne turned sideways, shifting enough to watch the newcomer’s approach but not enough to lose sight of Dragan. She recognized the sound of the stride. From the shadows of the corridor, Fallon emerged.
“What are you doing down here, Trynne?” he asked. He had a dark countenance, a brooding look.
“Hello, Master,” Dragan said.
“I’m tempted to reach through those bars and throttle your neck, thief,” Fallon said grimly. “I am not your master, as you well know. Trynne, come with me.”
“If you leave me here alone, I’m a dead man,” Dragan said to Trynne, his eyes widening with fear.
Fallon glowered at him. “Your death is already a foregone conclusion.” He had reached Trynne and stood by her, almost in a protective stance. “I hope you don’t give too much credence to anything he’s said to you. He’s liable to say anything to save his skin from frostbite.”
Trynne looked up at Fallon, feeling the familiar feelings at war inside her—the desire to trust him and the fear that she could not. “Why is he even here, Fallon?”
“I will gladly explain it to you,” he said, gesturing for the exit. “But I’d rather not say more in front of such a man. He has a thousand tricks. I had no doubt that you would sense him when you arrived. I might not be Fountain-blessed, but I know that one Fountain-blessed can feel the presence of another. I was going to tell you about him before . . . well, you know what happened. Let’s speak now. Come with me.”