The Forsaken Throne (Kingfountain #6)(61)

Fallon glanced at Trynne and she nodded. She could free them from the chains in an instant. It would only take a single word of power. But it would be best if Quivel didn’t know she’d trained as a Wizr. Outside the pavilion, she heard crackling cookfires and soldiers milling around talking and complaining about the quality of the rations. Smoke lingered in the air, making it hazy. Trynne eased down next to the Leering and Fallon joined her.

Quivel looked satisfied by their act of submissiveness. He lowered his voice and approached them in a very candid manner.

“Very well, I’ll get to the point. I need to get off this world. Things are going from bad to worse. I was told a man would be sent to take my place. A thief lord. Where is he? Do you know of him?”

Could it be?

Fallon turned his head and looked at Trynne. “You mean Dragan?” he asked.

Quivel’s eyes brightened. “Yes! That’s the one. He’s supposed to be here collecting the treasures, not I.”

“He was captured,” Trynne said, keeping her voice steady.

“Blast it,” Quivel muttered, and began to pace. “That explains why he wasn’t with you. Everything is going wrong. The plan is unraveling. These people are on the verge of slaughtering each other. Three armies are marching here right now. If we don’t get away soon, we’ll all die here. So, perhaps we can cooperate. Dochte Abbey is burned. That was to be the signal that the final war was starting. I saw you both”—he said, wagging his finger at them —“standing near her. Queen Ereshkigal, that is. Nasty creature. I wasn’t there, but I saw you through the Leering in the cell. When you vanished, I knew you had a Tay al-Ard. So, let us help one another, shall we?” His voice had a desperate edge to it. “You don’t want to be trapped here any more than I do. I think Rucrius intended to abandon me. Too much time has passed since I last heard from him.”

“And you won’t,” Trynne said, trying to understand the maze of words. “Rucrius is dead.”

The news struck Quivel like a blow. His cheeks twitched with dread. “No,” he gasped. He continued pacing, shaking his head in wonderment. “It’s worse than I feared. We need to get away. Dieyre is luring the other kingdoms here for a final conflict. The strategy is elegant and simple. He’ll get them all to fight each other through treachery and deceit. You see, the curse in these woods takes its toll on everyone who enters. His camp is shielded from it for now.

Ereshkigal wants everyone dead, so she’ll never withdraw. Not even if her men are dying in droves. There will be no one left. Is Morwenna still waiting to bring you back? Does she not have the ring still?”

So he knew about the ring. And he was allied with Morwenna and assumed the same was true of them. Trynne adjusted herself into a more comfortable position, trying to come up with a strategy.

“Do you think she would let it go willingly?” Fallon asked with a snort. “We were sent to get Kiskaddon and bring him back. Help us, and you’ll be helped.”

Quivel’s mouth turned into an angry frown. “You intend to leave me behind. I don’t think so. I will not be stranded here. There are two of you, so who was—”

Fallon leaned forward, his voice rising angrily, “If you hadn’t drained the Tay al-Ard, we could all be back at Muirwood right now. I know the plan for leaving. You don’t. I know the password. You don’t.

Now bring Kiskaddon here and release us. Don’t be a fool, Quivel!”

The Dochte Mandar stopped pacing. He glared at Fallon. “You will not leave me behind. I figured out Rucrius’s plan long ago.

Gather up all the gold in Comoros, Dahomey, and everywhere else in this cursed place. The plague is killing everyone anyway. The dead do not need wealth. We can do it without him. We’ll bring the gold back to Chandigarl through the treasure ship sent to take Brythonica. Crisis averted! There’s no need for Gahalatine to defeat the people in this world, they’re too busy defeating themselves!” He began muttering to himself. “So Dragan was captured and now I’m to be left behind.” Finally, he stopped pacing. “I’ll frustrate Morwenna’s plan,” he announced. “I can get Kiskaddon and the gold. At least enough of it to make this disastrous mission worth our while. But I need a way out of here. I want more than promises. They’ll all be dead within a fortnight. Mark my words. The disease is ravaging every city and still the rulers squabble like beggars over dried figs.”

He snorted.

“Then let us strike a bargain,” Fallon said. “None of us want to be trapped here. I know where they are keeping Dragan. He wanted to come here.”

Quivel gave Fallon a sharp look. “Who are you?”

“The truth? I’m Fallon Llewellyn. Head of the Espion. Morwenna has seized the throne.”

Quivel’s nostrils flared. He looked from Fallon to Trynne and then back again. “And you have the ring? You can get me out of here?” he asked.

The pavilion door rustled and one of the soldiers poked his head in. “My lord, the king is coming.”

Quivel straightened. “Here?”

“Yes!”

Trynne sensed the approach of two Fountain-blessed people coming toward the tent. She squirmed beneath the chains, feeling the mounting tension in the air.

Fallon ground his teeth. “Take these chains off, man. Let me help you!”