The Hollow Crown (Kingfountain #4)(42)

The poisoner approached warily, casting her gaze first to Trynne and then to Staeli. She noted the bodies sprawled in the alley.

“Well, you’re certainly the last person I expected to find at the end of this chase,” Morwenna said, her eyes still showing a bit of mistrust. “I was following two Fountain-blessed. Where is the other?”

“What are you doing here?” Trynne asked, still feeling wary and confused. “I thought you were in Pisan?”

Morwenna’s eyebrows lifted. “I was. I finished the school a year ago. I’ve been on assignments for my brother ever since. Did you come here through the ley lines? Of course you did, why am I even asking. That’s how I came as well.”

Trynne’s eyes bulged with surprise at that. The ley lines were a closely guarded secret, normally used only by trained Wizrs.

“I learned about them in Pisan,” Morwenna said. “Who were you following? I heard one of the competitors for the Gauntlet was Fountain-blessed. An archer from Legault. Was that him?”

Trynne shook her head. “No. I was after a man named Dragan.” She looked at Morwenna carefully to see if she recognized the name.

Morwenna did startle, her eyes widening with surprise. “The man who attacked you?” she whispered. “That was him? Where is he now? I don’t sense him anymore.” She was staring down the alley warily.

“He led us into this rabble before slipping away. He’s not using his magic right now.”

“If he’s here,” Morwenna said firmly, “I need to find him and arrest him. The Espion has been hunting him for years.”

“But why are you here? Are you on a mission to hunt Dragan?” Trynne asked, still not certain how to handle all the information she had just received.

Morwenna blinked with surprise. “No, I’m here because of the Gauntlet. Fallon asked me to come. Does he know you’re here?” Her eyes lit up with interest. “He didn’t mention you were coming too.”

That uncomfortable nauseating sensation blossomed in Trynne’s stomach again.





CHAPTER FOURTEEN


The King’s Poisoner



Trynne was so shocked by Morwenna’s statement that she stumbled over her next words and felt her cheeks flush. “No—that’s not—I wasn’t—”

“I’ve embarrassed you,” Morwenna said, touching her arm. “Forgive me. I’m still so surprised to find you here. This isn’t the proper place to become reacquainted.” She glanced down at the writhing bodies of the gang and smirked. “I’m glad Captain Staeli was with you, so you didn’t have to use much of your magic,” she added conspiratorially. “The last word you uttered was what drew my attention. I felt it from far away. Come, let’s go the way you felt Dragan going. What did he look like? How would I recognize him? I’ve heard very few have actually seen him. Some have taken to calling him ‘the Ghost.’”

Trynne quickly described what they had seen him wearing as they all walked briskly to the end of the alley. Shortly thereafter, they arrived at the main street on the river’s edge. Everywhere Trynne looked, there were dogs on leashes, men and women in identical black velvet hats, and street vendors. The air hung heavy with the scents of food and the blooms in a nearby flower wagon.

The foot traffic went both ways, and there were gondoliers in the river scooping their way along in both directions as well. Morwenna clung to Trynne’s arm as they stood in the alcove, watching the crowd.

“I love watching people,” Morwenna confided. “But now we’re trying to spot a man in shabby nobleman’s clothes. One without a whippet.” She clucked her tongue. “If only I’d come sooner. I’m going to hate having to report this to my brother and your father.” Morwenna frowned at the thought, still searching the crowd. Then she turned and raised her eyebrow in an almost accusing way. “I do need to report this, Trynne, despite our friendship. Does your father know you’re here? Will he be upset if he finds out?”

Trynne was still battling her inner demons and almost didn’t hear the question. Morwenna had been invited by Fallon to meet her in Brugia? What did that mean? How did she know about ley lines? Trynne’s curiosity was screaming to know the answers.

“Father doesn’t know I’m here,” Trynne said, shaking her head. “But my mother does. She sent me to get a book—”

“From the bookmaker’s shop!” Morwenna said, suddenly interested. “It was that old copy of The Vulgate, wasn’t it? I saw it in the window yesterday when I arrived.”

“You know about The Vulgate?” Trynne asked.

“Everyone knows about The Vulgate, Trynne,” Morwenna said, dropping her voice lower. “What they don’t know about is the secret that’s hidden in plain sight. You know of it, of course, or I wouldn’t be talking about it. Your mother is a Wizr, after all. I’m so jealous of you, Trynne. You get to be tutored by a truly exceptional woman. I tried to get Myrddin to tutor me, but he insisted that I must discover the words on my own. You’re special, though. What you have access to at Ploemeur is infinitely better than the scraps I found in Pisan.” She squeezed Trynne’s arm. “I can see that I’ve concerned you, so let me catch you up quickly. Then I want to take you to Oberon’s—that’s where Fallon is hiding until the Gauntlet starts,” she added in an undertone.