The Forsaken Throne (Kingfountain #6)(83)

Drew reached for his sword, his face furrowing with concern.

Staeli turned and frowned, walking toward the noise—as he ever walked toward danger. There was a man rushing forward, trampling through the trees in his haste. He was accosted by the king’s knights, but he struggled against them, trying to reach Trynne.

“Who is it?” Owen asked with concern.

Trynne and the others approached and found a dark-haired man gasping for breath, wearing the tunic of her household. It was one of Thierry’s underlings, a clever young man named Lapiyerre.

“Unhand me!” he said, trying to shake loose of the sturdy knights. “My lady! I am sent from your steward, Thierry. My name is . . .”

“Yes, I know who you are,” Trynne said, coming closer. His face was agitated and nearly bursting with excitement. “What is the news?”

He looked so relieved, but his eyes bulged when he realized that she was with the king and her father. He swallowed awkwardly.

“My lady, her ship. The ship. Blast it all, your mother’s ship! It’s arriving in the harbor as we speak. Lady Sinia’s ship has returned!”

Trynne stared at Lapiyerre in surprise and happiness, which slowly transmuted into sickening horror. Her mother had returned.

Trynne would have to tell her about Gannon’s murder, about Owen’s lack of memories. She felt herself swaying and wondered if she would faint. A hand lowered onto her shoulder to steady her. It was her father.

He looked at her keenly, his eyes full of concern. “I learned about Gannon while we were at Tatton Hall,” he said softly. “About

my parents. We must break the news to your mother before anyone else does. Wouldn’t you agree?” He gave her a reassuring look.

Trynne bobbed her head, trying to maintain her composure.

She’d thought she would have more time to prepare herself for this moment, but at least she wouldn’t have to bear the burden alone.

She put her hand on her father’s forearm and nodded. Then she reached out her other hand and offered it to the king. “We should go at once. I will take us there.”

Trynne’s stomach was twisting into knots of worry. She wanted her mother to see Owen by her side as the ship landed. The king and Thierry were there, and so was Captain Staeli, ever watchful. A crowd had gathered, and the watch had been summoned to push the onlookers back, to make room so that the family could gather privately first. The sun was bright overhead, but there were plenty of cool sea breezes to keep the heat from burning them. It was a terrible moment to talk of death. To describe the near ruin of Kingfountain.

Please let her understand, Trynne prayed silently, squeezing her hands behind her back. She was trembling with anticipation. The boat arrived with the noon tide, and she spied Captain Pyne at the main deck. The ship looked worn and weather-beaten. It had been at sea for so long. Trynne couldn’t help but remember a different day, long since past, when this same boat had prepared to disembark.

Her mother heading off on an unknown adventure, driven to heed whispers from the Fountain.

Commands were shouted and the crew responded sharply and with great order. Ropes were thrown overboard to secure the vessel.

Each moment was an agony to Trynne as she prepared to explain the absence of her little brother, the boy she had been charged to protect. Guilt wormed inside of her.

She felt her father’s arm lower around her shoulders in a comforting gesture. “She will understand, Trynne,” he whispered.

“Won’t she?”

Trynne was so worried about her own feelings, she’d failed to recognize his. This was a man who had lost all recollection of his wife and his children. Gannon’s loss hadn’t stabbed him as deeply because her brother didn’t exist in his memory. He didn’t even know his wife’s face, what she looked like.

The dockworkers lifted a ramp, and the soldiers aboard affixed it to the edge of the ship. Trynne caught a flash of golden hair—her mother, approaching the gangplank. Just seeing her made Trynne’s whole being thrum with relief, but the feeling was quickly muted by the burden Trynne carried.

Sinia spoke in undecipherable tones to Captain Pyne for a moment and then headed toward the ramp.

Trynne saw someone with her mother. She blinked, not able to understand. There was a child holding her hand. A boy with tawny hair and a wide smile. Trynne’s vision was blurred by tears and she wiped them away fast, afraid it was an illusion. But she could not be deceived by illusions. She saw the lad clearly.

It was Gannon.





CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO


The Dryad Tree


Trynne sobbed as she hugged her brother, kneeling on the sharp wooden planks of the dock, feeling his hands patting her shoulders comfortingly. Her heart felt so swollen she thought it would burst, and her breath came in soft hiccups. She gazed at her parents, seeing them together, Sinia holding Owen tightly, cheek pressed against his chest, her tears flowing freely. There was no way to describe how Trynne felt. They were a family again.

Trynne closed her eyes, savoring the relief, the confusion—she couldn’t understand how this was possible outside of a dream. She feared she’d awaken and it would be gone. But she felt Gannon, smelled the scent of the sea on his skin. He was alive. She kissed his cheeks until he wrinkled his nose and started to shove her away.

Looking back from her brother, she saw something dangling from her mother’s girdle. She sensed it was hidden and concealed by magic, but her eyes could see it—the illusion would not work on her. It was a key, a strange, ancient-looking key that was made of rusting iron and hung from a braided rope tied around her mother’s waist. She felt the strange power it radiated. What was it?