The Forsaken Throne (Kingfountain #6)(38)

She had to smile at that, but she hadn’t bothered to notice—or count—so she just shrugged and ate a portion of her bread in silence.

When their scanty meal was finished, they packed up their gear and brought out the sleeping blankets.

“I’ll keep first watch, if that’s okay,” Fallon whispered. “I’ll wake you at midnight. Or whenever I guess it to be midnight. I don’t know the stars in this place. Or the moon. Do you think they will look different from ours?”

“I imagine they must,” she said, drawing the blanket around her.

She cleared away some of the debris and nestled down onto the earth. She was exhausted, but her mind was alive with thoughts and worries. Where was her father on such a night? She felt closer to him than she had since the night he’d disappeared, but still so very far away . . . She shivered beneath the blanket.

Fallon stepped away a pace or two and settled against the trunk of the oak tree, his sword in his lap. He was silent, but she heard his breathing and found herself listening intently to the little noises he made while trying to get comfortable. Her heart ached to talk to him.

More bats continued to flutter overhead, and the drone of mosquitoes and water bugs was soon conquered by other night sounds—the distant hoot of an owl, the croaking of frogs, and the ticking noise of some unfamiliar insects. The waters of the pond lapped against the hillock. But Fallon was silent. She was grateful that he showed her respect. Not once had he taken a liberty with her.

“Can I ask you a question?” She said it in a whisper, hoping they were still close enough to speak in low voices.

“Aren’t you weary?”

“I am, but my head is too full to sleep. You don’t have to answer.”

“There’s more time now than we had last night. You can ask me anything. But if I fall asleep during your interrogation, revive me, since I’m supposed to be keeping watch.”

“But will you be honest with me, Fallon?”

“Yes, Trynne. What troubles you?”

She was still not quite warm enough beneath her blanket, so after a shiver and adjusting her blanket more tightly around her, she broached her question. “How do you feel . . . about Morwenna?”

He let out a long breath through his nose. “You’re not going to throw anything at me if I tell you the truth?”

“I promise I won’t.”

“Good. At least there are no magnolia trees nearby.” He chuckled to himself, but when he spoke again, his tone was serious.

“Morwenna Argentine. She is . . . she is like fire. I think it is normal for a person to be attracted to something even though you know deep down it will burn you if you touch it. The essence of your question, I suppose, is whether I’m smitten by her. I suppose yes. To some degree. It plays to any man’s vanity to have a beautiful woman show interest in him. But I’ve never forgotten who she was. Or what she was.” He fell silent a moment, brooding. “I think it’s time you knew her story.”





CHAPTER FIFTEEN


Unseen


“The thing you must first understand about Morwenna, Trynne,”

Fallon said in a quiet, thoughtful way, “is she was just as fiercely loyal to her father as you are to yours. She sought his approval beyond all others. She pitied his fall, and I think the notion of avenging him was what drove her from the start.”

“She told you this?” Trynne interrupted. She was grateful she couldn’t see him in the dark. His words had already sliced through her.

He hesitated. “In a way. I’ve learned a great deal from the Espion. It is no secret to you that I admire that organization and have the ambition to lead it someday. Over the years, I have coaxed Morwenna into confiding in me. I didn’t share everything I learned with my sister. But I shared most of it. Morwenna has been secretly manipulating events to overthrow her brother. Not to kill him, but to depose and exile him, just as happened to her father. To do that, she needed to first banish your father. As much as she resented him for removing Severn from power, she thought she may need him if the Mandaryn ever united against her.”

He paused and they listened to the sounds of croaking for a while.

Trynne thought it a good opportunity to ask a question. “During the Battle of the Kings, she joined our side in fighting Rucrius.

Without her, Rucrius may have destroyed our army with the storm he summoned. Was that planned? It didn’t feel so at the time. He murdered her father in front of her.”

“Ah, yes. That was not planned.” His voice grew more somber.

“You know how one move in Wizr can trigger subsequent moves that shift the power of the game? Sometimes there are too many unknowns to account for every possible outcome. You were the unknown in this situation, Trynne. You kept interfering with their plans. Morwenna didn’t know about the Oath Maidens you were training in secret early on. She certainly didn’t know you were the Painted Knight. I kept your secret and never told her. During that battle, I think Rucrius and the Wizrs realized Morwenna wouldn’t be Gahalatine’s chosen bride. He was so clearly fascinated by you.

“Morwenna was the mastermind behind the plot, and they saw her weakened condition as an opportunity to throw off her control.

She was completely spent after that battle. All her Fountain magic was drained away. They would have won, but you chased down Rucrius and killed him, toppling the board. You thwarted their plans.