The King's Traitor (Kingfountain #3)(12)

Kevan brought them to a cell and inserted a key into the lock. “My lord, meet our latest guest,” he introduced.

Owen ducked through the opening and took the lantern from Kevan, who waited outside. The man in the dank cell shielded his face from the light and flinched, backing away from the glare. He was an oily man with a hawk nose and a handsome, squarish, pocked face with long sideburns that matched the color of his dark hair. His clothes looked like they had been worn by a nobleman and then discarded after too much use. There were splits at the seams and some of the stitching threads were loose.

A surge of Fountain magic filled the cell, startling Owen because it was so unexpected. He dropped the book cradled in his arm and reached for his dagger. He felt Etayne’s hand touch his shoulder, and when he jerked his neck around to face her, he saw she was in a disguise. Her face had been distorted to look like Evie’s maid, and her blond hair had gone long and dark.

“Who is that?” Dragan grunted and growled. He was still shielding his face. Owen had never seen him before, but his expression did look somewhat familiar.

“It’s not him,” Etayne said in Justine’s voice, shaking her head vigorously. She turned and left.

Owen stared after her and then turned back to face Dragan. He slowly crouched and picked up the fallen book.

“What do she mean I’m not him?” Dragan said with a croaking voice. “Who was that lass? Do I know her?”

It came together in Owen’s mind like a puzzle. He gave Dragan a sharp look. “Who hired you to abduct the prisoners?”

“I’m not saying nuffin,” the man said firmly. “What’s a man to do, I ask ye, now that the king thrust us out of sanctuary. I tell you. I ask you!” He huffed. “I don’ mean nuffin, my lord. Just want a few coins in my sack, eh? Can you blame a man for tryin’? Eh, my lord? Can you blame me? I can’t blame myself. You would have done the same in my place. Sure as milk, you would have.”

The man’s shabby clothes were proof enough of his ill-kempt condition. “You knew what you were doing when you went against the king,” he scolded. “You’re the kind of man who’d steal coins from the fountains at the sanctuary.”

The man grinned sheepishly. One of his teeth was missing. “You can’t blame me, eh?”

Owen shook his head and left. He felt the churning of the Fountain magic dwindle in the cell. Kevan shut and locked the door.

“Do you want him tortured, whipped, drowned, or set loose, my lord?” Kevan asked with a chuckle.

Owen glanced at Etayne, who looked like herself again despite her pale cheeks. She wasn’t looking at either of them. Her face was composed, but he could see she was reeling inside. “No. Let him stew a few more days, then release him with a threat and have him followed. See where he leads you.”

“Aye, my lord. Is there anyone else you wanted to see before leaving? Anything I can fetch for you before your trip?”

Owen shook his head no. “I’m leaving you in charge while we’re gone.” He glanced at Etayne.

“While we’re gone?” Etayne asked with sudden interest, her eyebrows lifting.

Kevan bowed. “Understood. Let me know if you need anything further.” Then he started away, leaving Owen and Etayne alone together in the corridor.

They walked in silence until they reached the Espion’s secret Star Chamber. Owen slid the bolt in the door, trying to shake the ominous feelings that were making him ill. When he turned, Etayne was pacing and wringing her hands. She was agitated.

“So that was your father,” Owen said softly. “Dragan.”

Her head shot up and she nodded.

“You startled me,” Owen laughed, shaking his head. “When you summoned your magic like that, I thought we were being ambushed. You chose Justine? Of all your disguises, her?”

Etayne gave him a wry smile. “She was on my mind at the moment and I needed something quickly before my father saw me.”

“Do you think he did?”

“I don’t know. He wouldn’t have been expecting to see me . . . especially not dressed like this.” She looked disturbed. “Why did you bring me to see him?”

“I knew you grew up in the sanctuary,” Owen said. “I wanted you there in case you recognized the man. As it turns out, you did.”

“There was something in his eye. A glimmer of knowing. I know he thinks I’m dead, and I make it a point not to visit the sanctuary because I don’t want to be recognized. When I do, I always use a disguise.”

Owen saw she was trembling. “Bad memories?”

She looked at him again in surprise. Her mouth twisted into a scowl. “There is no love lost between us, my lord.” She looked even paler than before, and he could only imagine what childhood trauma she had endured.

“Is he dangerous? Should I keep him jailed?” Owen came up to her and put his hand on her shoulder.

The trembling melted away at his touch. “He’s a thief and I’m a thief’s daughter. I wasn’t prepared. It startled me, that’s all.” She looked at him boldly, her courage returning. “I’m not that girl any longer. I’m not defenseless.” She changed her expression, looking more at ease. “So where are we going, my lord? Who does the king wish killed this time?”

“There are many he wishes were dead,” Owen said with a snide laugh. “No, we have a unique assignment, you and I. He’s ordered me to go to Brythonica.”