The Forsaken Throne (Kingfountain #6)(59)

As dusk began to drain away the sparse light, she sensed Fountain magic ahead in the distance. She hastened her steps and touched Fallon’s arm.

“Ahead,” she warned in a low voice.

He slowed down, turning to gaze at her worriedly. “What is it? A Leering? I only hear some annoying jackdaws.”

“I sense a Leering, but also Fountain magic coming from a person,” she answered, and he nodded in understanding. Both already had their swords at the ready. As they proceeded, Trynne continued to sense the presence of several Leerings. These were active ones, radiating a form of magic in a circular area. She grew more cautious, but she didn’t let it slow her down.

A thickening, roiling mist hung over the trees ahead of them.

“Fog?” Fallon said curiously, his brow wrinkling. “Reminds me of Guilme.”

“Only this fog isn’t natural,” Trynne said, growing more alarmed.

She reached out with her magic, probing for danger, and felt a dark force hidden in the layers of the mist. Pouring out more magic, she found a cave hidden within a series of huge boulders. A creature— no, a hulking monster—waited inside. It had one weakness. Sunlight.

It was nearly nightfall.

“Fallon—” she started to say in warning, but before she could explain, she felt another Leering flare to life. The other Fountain-blessed person was just ahead, closer than the monster. This presence she felt was definitely human.

Fallon stopped, held up his hand. “I hear water running,” he whispered.

She heard it too. A water Leering, then.

The mist grew thicker. Seeing ahead through the trees became impossible.

“There is someone just ahead of us,” Trynne said. “And there is also a beast in the woods. I don’t know what it is, but it is dangerous.”

“I don’t like this,” Fallon said, shaking his head. “Could it be your father?”

Trynne nodded. “He saw me at the Leering. Maybe he came to meet me.”

“But this is your father we’re talking about,” Fallon said, wrinkling his brow. “He doesn’t know that we’re friendly. This feels an awful lot like one of his traps.”

“Yes, it does,” she agreed. “If it is him, shouldn’t we let him capture us? I have the Tay al-Ard. I can get us away quickly.”

“That’s true, and he doesn’t know that.” He looked anxious. “It’s getting darker by the moment. Let’s spring the trap and get ready to fly if something goes wrong.”

“Agreed,” Trynne said.

They walked hesitantly forward, senses alert to every sound.

The mist seemed to muffle the noise, but Trynne heard the pattering sound of water flowing from the Leering ahead of them. Its two burning red eyes penetrated the mist. They slowed their approach, trying to be as soundless as possible. Fallon gazed back and forth, his mouth in a frown.

Trynne pulled the Tay al-Ard out of her belt, holding it in her left hand. The mist was so thick, it blinded them to the rest of the road, but she noticed the trees had been cut down around the Leering.

There were dead trees everywhere, sawn down by man. The air was heavy with the pungent smell of rot. There were smaller Leerings arranged throughout the woods in a larger circle, and she sensed they were summoning the mist. But the water Leering was the most powerful one.

“I don’t like this place,” Fallon whispered. His body was as taut as a bowstring.

The Leering’s eyes were livid with fire, exposing its face. This one was carved to look like a woman. A grim-faced woman with a haughty look and a stern expression. There was something huddled before the Leering. At first, Trynne thought it was a stone, so she startled when it straightened to a man’s height. This was the person she’d sensed. He was wearing a wine-colored tunic, but a cowl concealed his hair. The person was Fountain-blessed. Trynne could sense the magic radiating off him.

Continuing forward, her stomach roiling with concern and hope, she started closing the distance between them. Fallon kept close to her, enough that she could reach out and touch him if they needed to use the Tay al-Ard. The cloaked figure turned and she saw her father’s face beneath the hood.

She nearly gasped in relief— Fallon did—but something wasn’t right. The man looked like her father. But the next instant she sensed the magic, sensed the disguise.

“Who are you?” Trynne challenged, reaching out with her magic.

“Who do you think I am?” came a reply in her father’s voice.

Trynne sensed the presence of other men, soldiers, slinking through the trees, coming around them in a wide circle. None of them had drawn a weapon, but they were closing in on them like a net.

“I know you are not Owen Kiskaddon,” Trynne said, trying to tame the anger in her throat.

“And you answer me in the language of Kingfountain!” said the man. “Did you notice I switched? Only someone from that world would know the speech. Thank the Fountain!”

“Who are you?” Trynne demanded angrily, gritting her teeth.

She stared at him, half-seen through the glare of the Leering’s burning eyes.

“My name is Esquivel,” he answered with a light chuckle, almost giddy. “They call me Quivel here. King Dieyre wishes to see you both. Will you come with me?”

“Do we have a choice?” Fallon asked, looking from side to side at the shadowy forms of the soldiers emerging from the gloom. He edged next to Trynne, his boot touching hers.