The Forsaken Throne (Kingfountain #6)(30)

Fallon let go of her arm and marched deliberately over to the silver bowl chained to the plinth. The air smelled of earth and juniper and mushrooms and a thousand tiny smells that blended into a unique perfume. She could feel the immensity of the Fountain magic surrounding them. The grove had always been a spiritual place for her. It was a nexus of some kind, a well of power. Her heart beat wildly as Fallon carried the bowl to the small trickling waterfall and began to fill it.

The hulking oak tree spread its gnarled branches above them, a reminder of what it had done to her father. To Gahalatine. A strange sensation crept over Trynne as she gazed at the oak. Almost a warning feeling. It never used to feel that way before. It was as if this place had been turned against her too.

“Don’t look at the tree,” Fallon said, glancing at her. “There is some compulsion that makes you want to look at it. I don’t understand the tree’s magic, but it’s real.” Holding the bowl, he carefully stepped back down to the plinth. “I’ve never done this before, but from what I’ve read, pouring the water on the plinth causes a storm.”

Trynne walked up to him, nodding as she went. There was an itch in her mind, a nagging to look at the tree. It grew more intense.

“How do we get to the other world?” Trynne asked him, trying to shake off the feeling.

“Through the cave,” Fallon said, pointing. “The storm summons the power to open the gate. There are certain laws that bind this place. Whoever bears the ring can pass back and forth to the other world. They can bring others with them.”

“Can an army cross through?” Trynne asked.

Fallon frowned. “I don’t think so. I believe the magic is limited.

According to The Hidden Vulgate, only a few people are able to pass in and out before the gate closes.” He stood over the plinth, gazing at the grove. “Shall we?”

Trynne nodded and stood back as Fallon tipped the bowl and splashed water onto the plinth. A surge of Fountain magic filled her reservoir of power to the brim, making her nearly gasp. Her fingers tingled with it.

The immediate clap of thunder was so sharp and loud it almost deafened her. Fallon cringed, nearly dropping the bowl, but he quickly set it down instead. Then the rain started, huge plops of water that began to deluge the grove, followed immediately by shards and chunks of ice. The commotion was loud and angry and sent chills through her. They both ran into the cave, hands covering their heads, as the violent hail pummeled the forest. A gust of knife-sharp wind cut into the entryway of the cave, the violence of it shoving Trynne and Fallon into the cave entrance. There was another force in front of them, pulling at them like a river current.

Their boots began to slip.

“This is it!” Fallon said, his eyes gleaming with triumph. The wind howled and raged and the very rocks and boulders around them began to groan. The interior of the cave was bathed in shadows, and Trynne could see nothing in its depths as it continued to suck at them, the roar of the wind growing louder and louder, keening.

Trynne found his fingers gripping hers. She wasn’t sure if she’d reached for his hand or he hers, it had happened so suddenly. The world began to pitch and tilt and she felt like she was going to fall.

Her stomach thrilled with giddy panic.

“Into the cistern!” she gasped, gazing in fear at the black void summoning them. She needed her father’s words of bravery now more than ever.

She gripped Fallon’s hand tightly, fearing they’d be tugged apart by the vortex. A crackle of thunder filled the air and the flat slope of the cave entrance pitched so that their boots were scrabbling to find footing. There was none.

They fell into the depths of the cave. She braced herself, half expecting to smash into the cave wall at the end.

Instead of crashing into stone, she struck something else.





Fallon has betrayed me. There can be no other interpretation of the facts. He is gone, and he took my Tay al-Ard and the ring. My kystrel is also gone. If he were wearing it, if he were doing my bidding, I would know. I would sense where he is in the world and I would be able to use him. My memory is muddled from last night, but there’s one thing I do know. One thing I can see clearly. Fallon took Tryneowy to the Dryad tree. They have crossed worlds.

Without the ring, I cannot follow them. But I can destroy Brythonica before they return. And I will.

Another lost kingdom, drowned by the Deep Fathoms.

They will all learn the consequences of defying me.

Morwenna Argentine





PART II

Knights





CHAPTER TWELVE


Ruins


It was dawn in the new world. Trynne had landed in the detritus of an oak, the sharp edges of many brittle leaves pricking against her palms and cheek as she opened her eyes. There was birdsong in the air, a sweet sound that greeted her merrily as she lifted her head and found Fallon sprawled next to her. He winced with discomfort and lifted his head, a few decayed leaves clinging to his dark hair.

“Ugh,” he groaned, then turned his head and saw her lying next to him. His pained look softened into a relieved smile. He propped up on his elbows and gazed around the grove. “This is not Brythonica,”

he said in wonder. “Look at the size of this tree. It must be a thousand years old.”

Trynne sat up, brushing the dirt and crushed leaves from her arms, and tipped her head to look at the oak tree looming over them.