The Forsaken Throne (Kingfountain #6)(84)

Her mother caught her gaze. Then her fingers wrapped around Trynne’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “I will explain everything to you, Tryneowy. All that I can. Later. First, we must bring back your father’s memories.”

King Drew approached, staring at Sinia in awe. “You can do this?” he asked, his eyes brightening with hope.

“Yes, my lord. I know now how they were taken—and how they can be returned.” She inclined her head to him. “I also know where Firebos is being concealed. And my husband’s scabbard.” She patted Owen’s chest. “It too shall be restored. All things will be made right again.” Her countenance fell a bit as she shifted her gaze back to Trynne. “All that can be.”

Once again, they were back at the grove, but this time with Trynne’s mother and brother. The noise from the cheering crowds was gone, replaced by the sweet chirping of the woodland birds and the steady pattering of the waterfall. Gannon ambled around the oak tree’s roots, and Trynne felt a nervous gust of fear. She folded her arms, shuddering, still amazed to see her brother hale once again.

“I have so many questions . . .” Trynne said, turning to her mother. Sinia was walking hand in hand with Owen toward the plinth.

King Drew clasped his hands behind his back, standing near Trynne and brooding over the strange scene. “As do I,” he said.

“Why do I have a feeling you have already seen this moment in a vision?”

Sinia smiled at the comment and nodded to him. “When I departed Kingfountain, I said that I was being summoned back home. Back to the Deep Fathoms.”

“I recall that moment quite well,” said Drew forlornly. “Everything started to fall apart afterward.”

Sinia turned and gazed up at the crooked tree branches of the mighty oak. “I know, my lord, but there were things we needed to know. Things that I could not learn in Ploemeur.” She released Owen’s hand and turned to face them. “My birth was a secret, even to me. I was found on the beach by my parents. A water sprite. A gift from the Fountain to save Brythonica from drowning. What I say here, inside this hallowed grove, must remain a secret.” She looked calm and peaceful, serene, transformed from when Trynne had seen her last. “We sailed westward and had many adventures. Far away, across the farthest sea, is an island. A trail of stone boulders, cut with stone faces, led me there. Next to the island there’s an underwater chasm deeper than the deepest gorge. It sinks into the very heart of the sea, and all the currents of the ocean are drawn into it. It is a gateway to the Deep Fathoms.”

She paused, gazing down at the stone plinth. “We sailed into its depths. Inside the Deep Fathoms, I met my true parents.” She looked up then, her expression one of tenderness and devotion. “My father rules the Deep Fathoms. In his previous life, on another world, his body was horribly scarred and he had lost his memories. My mother is a Dryad. This,” she said, gesturing to the oak, “is a Dryad tree. They are spirit creatures, like water sprites, but of the earth instead of the sea.” She turned and faced the tree, bowing her head respectfully. “The Dryad in this tree is my sister,” she said, her words full of loving feeling. “I never knew why I felt so at home here. Why this place was sacred to me as a child. I could always feel its whispers beckoning to me.” She turned her head to face them. “A Dryad’s power is over memories. She can snatch them away with the blink of her eyes. Her kiss restores them. My sister is bound to serve the master of the ring, so she has been in bondage to Morwenna. Now that the ring has been restored to its proper owner, she will restore Owen’s memories and those of the others whose memories she has taken. The lore of the Dryads is an ancient secret.

These trees are truly the portals between worlds. The roots have powerful magic. The portals must be guarded. And kept secret.”

Sinia turned back to the tree. “Morwenna learned about her in a secret book of magic called The Hidden Vulgate. It is a book of great power and greater evil. It was created, originally, by my father’s brother, a terrible ruler who once enslaved all the kingdoms of his world and destroyed them. His essence is bound inside that book. It cannot be unmade. But it was hidden by Morwenna and it will remain hidden. Her connection to the book has been broken, but her hatred cannot be cured.

“A Dryad will not appear to mortals unless forced to,” she said after a brief pause. “She will come if commanded by the one bearing the ring. The rest of you must shield your eyes. Kneel on the plinth, if you please.”

“Can I see the Dryad?” Gannon said eagerly after approaching her. “I saw them in Mirrowen.”

Sinia smiled at him and tapped his nose. “We are in the mortal world now, Jorganon. You must resist the temptation to look.”

He frowned at the request and then joined Trynne and Drew as they knelt on the stone plinth. Trynne obediently shut her eyes and put her hand on Gannon’s shoulder to help him be still.

There were no words said. The wind rustled the branches and wafted the scent of eucalyptus throughout the grove. It was interesting how the lack of sight made Trynne’s other senses heighten. The drone of a bumblebee could be heard in the woods.

And then she heard it, the little crack of a stem. Then the delicate crunch of fallen leaves trod by bare feet. She felt the Dryad’s Fountain magic, sensed that another person had joined them in the grove. The compulsion to look was fierce. It clawed at the back of her mind, demanding that she witness the being who had stolen her father’s memories. She squeezed her eyes shut, breathing deeply.