The Forsaken Throne (Kingfountain #6)(56)

Most of the soldiers were asleep, but there were a few clustered together, staring at the abbey burning in the distance and muttering among themselves. Soon the camp was behind them and they took an eastward road through woods. The sentries posted there merely nodded in respect as they passed, and she was grateful that Martin had provided, although unintentionally, the means for them to pass unmolested.

After the fatigue of several hours of walking in moonlight, they shed their tunics in the bushes. Wearing them deeper into enemy territory would be foolhardy. Not long after, Trynne felt something ahead on the trail, the presence of Fountain magic.

“There is a Leering ahead,” she whispered.

Trynne found it just off the road, hidden amidst thick brush. The face had been carved into an existing boulder. As she approached it, she felt its magic calling to her. It captivated her in a strange way, and she felt the ripples and murmurs of the Fountain. It felt familiar and peaceful—a stark contrast to the horrors of the dungeon and the hetaera lair in Dochte.

Fallon walked around the boulder, inspecting it from all sides.

“The carvings are new,” he announced.

Trynne was trying to understand why the stone felt so appealing. A sudden insight struck her. It was a water Leering. As if activated by the thought, the eyes on the carving glowed bright red and water started gushing from its mouth. Fallon scrambled backward in surprise, making her smile.

“You frightened me,” he said, laughing.

“I didn’t do it on purpose, Fallon,” she answered. After tugging off her gloves and stuffing them into her belt, she reached out and bathed her hands in the water to clean them and then cupped some to drink. After the long hike, the drink was delicious. She splashed some on her face before stepping aside to give Fallon a turn at the Leering.

“I wish we had these in our world,” he said with a grin. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve.

“We do,” she answered and saw his head tilt in surprise and curiosity.

“Really? Are they like the carvings in the castle of Ploemeur?”

She shook her head. “No, those are just decorations. They cannot summon power like this.” She thought about the ones in the caves of Glass Beach in Brythonica. But Fallon didn’t know about those, and she couldn’t tell him the secrets of her mother’s line. “I saw one in Gahalatine’s pavilion. It probably came from this world.”

Fallon shook water droplets from his hand, his expression darkening at her words. She could see his face through the light of the Leering’s burning eyes.

“Ah.” A feeling of awkwardness rose between them. “I’ve never been there,” he added, trying to lighten the mood, no doubt.

“This was back at the battle outside Dundrennan. He said that they were from another world, so I assume it must be this one,” she said, remembering that night in his tent. When they had arranged the truce between their realms. When she had agreed to become his wife. The feelings in her chest were so different now . . .

Fallon’s words interrupted her thoughts. “Can I ask you something?”

She turned to face him, dreading what was coming. “I’m not sure that would be wise, Fallon. We’re both exhausted.”

He smirked at her gentle warning and rose, rubbing his hand along the curved top of the boulder. She felt small and miserable and envious of his height.

“I’m not going to ask you anything inappropriate, Trynne. You needn’t worry.”

“Will it be impertinent?” she asked, managing a small smile.

“No, nor impudent. However, it is pertinent to the situation.

Trynne, as much as I wish it were otherwise, you are a married woman. We are alone together, so I recognize the unusual circumstances here, but I just . . . well, I’m curious about how Gahalatine won your hand. When you disappeared with him and that ugly Wizr of his, I could do nothing but wonder what would happen.

Then you came back, and your agreement had been made. So . . .

how did he win you?”

“Why are you so curious?” she asked him, sitting down in the brush poking up next to the Leering, away from little rivulets that had formed beneath the stone face. They didn’t need the water anymore, and the Leering’s eyes were cooling, the flow of water decreasing to a trickle. Somehow it had ebbed on its own, as if sensing they no longer needed it. The clacketing of nocturnal insects encroached on the quiet.

Fallon scrubbed his hand on the rock again before sitting down, choosing a spot on the opposite side of the Leering from her. “I have no question why he chose you, Trynne. Surely part of it was political, because the Wizrs were going to force him to marry. That is what Genny has told me, anyway. It was clearly to his advantage to choose you, in every way. But I’m curious about . . . how you feel about him. Are you glad you made that choice, knowing what you know now?”

“Fallon,” she sighed out, leaning her head back against the boulder. Darkness settled between them as the moon continued its descent. She was grateful she couldn’t see his face. “Why must we talk about this?”

“I think I already know. Please, Trynne. I may be jealous of the man, but I concede defeat. I tried my best to stop him at Dundrennan. I . . . I convinced myself that if I could turn the tide of the battle, if I could stop the threat to our kingdom, you might have me. I did my very best, but it was not nearly good enough. In fact, I would have died if you hadn’t saved my life. I still have a gruesome scar on my knee, and I’m proud of it. So, given what happened, I want to be sure that you are happy and will be happy. After we rescue your father from this fell place, and you return to Brythonica and your husband, I want all to be well. His memory lapse—and your father’s—is a piece of magic that I think we can break. Regardless, Gahalatine was wise for choosing you. Why did you choose him?”