The Forsaken Throne (Kingfountain #6)(32)

Just a little bit, the apples above are all mush now, but I have a few firm ones left. Come along. Come into my cave. You are welcome, even if one of you is a pethet.”

Trynne rejoiced to hear his voice and stepped forward, even though the light was blinding her. The brilliance finally ebbed and she could see Myrddin, dressed in the same cloak and robes he’d worn on the long-ago day he’d guided her through the oaths that had made her an Oath Maiden. He had a sour smell about him, as if he’d eaten too much onion, but she hastily controlled her thoughts, knowing that one of his Fountain gifts was the ability to read the thoughts of others.

“It is Myrddin,” Fallon said with a short chuckle. “And what is a pethet anyway?”

“Bah, leave it to a pethet to ask the wrong question,” the Wizr said with a huff and another snort, waving for them both to enter.

Trynne could tell he had been seated at a stone desk. It was full of strange metal books, the pages made of rectangular sheets of gold with rings set into them. There were heaps of them, some stacked on the floor, some set into stone boxes in the wall. She watched as Fallon gazed at them, his eyes brightening at the sight of so much treasure.

There were strange engraving tools on top of the stone table, along with a curious instrument. There were small metallic shavings all around them. It looked as if Myrddin had been in the midst of engraving when they’d disturbed him.

“Aye, there is much work left to do,” Myrddin said, putting his meaty hand on her shoulder. “Much left to write still. But come, you are guests. I should be gracious even though you have interrupted my work. The apples are over there. They are very sweet. Famous in these parts. Here, take some. They will help sustain you on your journey.”

“Where are we?” Trynne asked, seeing the pottery that held the apples. She was going to hand one to Fallon, but he hadn’t followed her. He was standing over the stone desk, about to lower his head and read from the metal pages.

“I wouldn’t do that, pethet,” Myrddin warned, clucking his tongue.

Fallon straightened. “I’ve never seen its like. What is this?”

“So many questions. So many. Always questions. Bah. How do I know so much that everyone keeps asking me? I ask, seek, and knock. It’s simple. You could do the same, pethet. But I must get back to my work. So I will not answer you now. Eat it, little sister.

Taste it.”

Trynne realized she’d stopped with an apple midway to her mouth. She’d realized, at the last moment, that she recognized these particular apples. Many, many years ago, Myrddin had given an apple like that to her brother in the audience hall of Kingfountain.

The memory of how much little Gannon had enjoyed the fruit knifed into her, but she obeyed the Wizr and bit into the apple. The sweetness was muted by the memory.

Myrddin gave her a sympathetic look that revealed he was aware of her suffering. “You eat one too, pethet. It will give you strength for your journey.”

Trynne handed an apple to Fallon and he took it from her. He paused, smelling it first, and then bit into it. His face practically beamed with enjoyment. “Sweet and tart,” he said with approval.

“There. Now you are both eating and cannot pester me with questions. This is good. I will say what I can say. No more. No less. I am a Wayfarer. A traveler between worlds. I have advised kings and shepherdesses and many other folk for long and sundry years.

There are rules that separate the worlds from one another. And you are here now because your father was brought hostage here.” He gave Trynne an arch look.

“Do you know where he is?” she asked desperately.

“Eat! Let me speak! I will say what I can.” He sighed, shaking his head. “Always so many questions. Your father is in this world, but he is not nearby. He was taken far away and locked in a dungeon.

You will go there, little sister. You will see it. It was the Fountain’s will that he should come. He cannot remember your world, but he serves the Fountain’s purposes. There are rules, as I said. Rules that separate the worlds. You must acknowledge this or turn back at once.”

His gaze turned to Fallon.

“Ach. I see now. I see.”

Fallon’s eyes blazed with sudden anger.

“I will say nothing more on that. I see it clearly. I did not create the rules, mind. Even I must abide by them. I was trapped in this world for many centuries, little sister. I was trapped here because of a woman. The portal was shut until your father and the king returned to open it. It is not the only portal. There are others like it. The Black Wizr knew all about it. Yes, the Black. My enemy.”

“Rucrius?” Trynne asked.

Myrddin puckered his lips. “No. The Black Wizr has another name. An ancient one. Shirikant.” He said the name like a curse, his cheek muscles twitching with revulsion. “His power was bound to a book. You call it The Hidden Vulgate. It is an unholy and evil creation. This is the book that the king’s sister found. Always it hides in shadow. It cannot be destroyed. It is more ancient than this world.

It is the fullness of evil.”

Trynne shuddered. “Morwenna found it while studying in Pisan.”

“Yes, little sister. It is what has corrupted her. What has corrupted so many others from the beginning. If allowed, it will destroy Kingfountain just as it has destroyed this realm. It is the evil of pride. Of greed. Those emotions are what drive us to revenge, and revenge is never satisfied. There is no sating it.”