The Forsaken Throne (Kingfountain #6)(40)

She fell asleep, still hearing the angry purrs from the unseen monsters as they slowly withdrew and abandoned the hillock.

Fallon’s hand touched her back and then her shoulder and jostled her awake.

“It’s your turn,” he whispered through chattering teeth.

The night was black and cold and too dark to see anything. She could not make out Fallon at all.

“Thank you for waking me,” she said, rising quickly. Her feet were frozen and the temptation to linger under the blanket was intense, but he deserved a chance to rest.

“I’ll be honest, I did fall asleep a little,” he said with a chuckle.

“Those creatures have been prowling around us all night. They feed on feelings and influence thoughts. I’ve kept myself awake by debating with them. I tend to fall back on sarcasm, you know.”

“I hadn’t realized that,” Trynne said dryly. She rose and walked tentatively, moving higher up the hill.

“The ground is warmer where you were sleeping. Don’t mind if I borrow it, do you? Wake me at dawn. Pay attention to the direction the sun rises. According to the Wizr board, east is still our goal.”

“I haven’t forgotten.”

“I know you probably hadn’t, but it doesn’t hurt to be clear. Good night.”

“Sleep the best you can.”

Trynne walked around the oak at the top of the hillock a few times before settling down to wait out the night. There was so much to think about that she didn’t have trouble keeping herself awake until morning. The pale light of dawn revealed the thick fog layered over the moors. It was especially thick over the murky water, and it felt like they were on an island oasis amidst the deep gloom. When it was bright enough to see their surroundings, she decided to wake Fallon.

He was wrapped so tightly in the blanket and had burrowed so deeply in the dense debris of fallen leaves and twigs that she almost couldn’t find him. His mop of dark hair, tangled with fragments of undergrowth, was the only thing that stood out. She gripped his shoulder and rocked him slightly until his eyes fluttered open.

Trynne had always loved the gray-green color of his eyes, so similar to the foliage of trees. His brow wrinkled and he lifted his head. “You look as bad as I feel.”

“Thank you, gallant sir,” she said with a snort.

“But I feel astonishingly well.” He recovered quickly, grinning at her. They ate a quiet meal from their stores and then prepared for the journey, anxious to be away from the dreadful place. As they continued to march through the muck and rugged terrain, the sound of dogs howling grew more and more distant—and it had completely disappeared by midday. The insects were constantly nagging at them, which only gave Trynne and Fallon more determination to escape the confinement of the woods. They stopped several times during the day to check the Wizr board and make sure they were still headed in the right general direction.

They encountered an abandoned cottage in late afternoon. The door was broken open and the insides had obviously been derelict for many months. While there was nothing to eat in the larder, there was a well from which they drew some fresh water to refill their flasks, and Trynne was lucky enough to find a small herb garden that had been left untended. They harvested some greens, which were sour tasting but fresh, and they took some onions to eat later in case there was a shortage of food.

“Look over there. Those are berry vines,” Fallon said eagerly.

The sight of the overgrown trellises gave her a pang of homesickness—no place had berries quite so fine as Brythonica.

After searching through the leaves, they spied some unclaimed fruit.

“What kind are these?” Fallon asked, carefully plucking one and plopping it into his mouth. He thought for a moment. “A bit tart, but edible. Here, try one.” He pulled another and handed it to her.

She examined the small pink fruit made of little sacs of juice.

“Thimbleberries,” she said and then ate it. He was right about the flavor, but they harvested more to eat and some were sweet and delicious. Trynne noticed that for every berry Fallon picked for himself, he offered one to her as well.

After a league or so, there was evidence they were approaching a town. Smoke scented the air, rutted roads began to branch away, and ramshackle huts could be seen through the trees. Not wanting to risk trouble by venturing too close, they observed the town from a distance, hiding in a copse of trees. From their vantage point they spied a small wagon train heading down the road. It did not stop at the town, but instead bypassed it completely. It was heading east.

The direction they needed to go to find Trynne’s father.

So they began to follow it as the sun went down.





I have persuaded my brother-king to wage war on Brythonica. The army of Kingfountain has been summoned. The ships are being gathered and arrayed and will blockade Ploemeur and deprive her of her allies. I’ve told the king that Trynne is a threat not only to us but to herself. She murdered the baby. He is mad with grief and despair. He cannot understand why Trynne would have forsaken him. I told him that he does not understand a woman’s capacity for revenge.

When this war is over, I will seek my revenge against him next. Shame is a powerful emotion. I will fill him with it.

Morwenna Argentine





CHAPTER SIXTEEN


The Queen’s Revenge