The King's Traitor (Kingfountain #3)(49)
“Now is the time for you to return. Come into the water with me. I will send you there.”
“I can be back in Kingfountain today?” he asked in surprise.
She gave him a meaningful look and reached out to take his arm.
Lord Kiskaddon,
I’m cautious writing this to you as I do not want to add to your overwhelming burdens. It is a difficult thing watching all that my grandfather built be ruined. Not a day has passed since leaving Dundrennan that we haven’t heard of some insult, depredation, or foulness coming from Lord Catsby. It was a time that deserved solemnity and mourning. Feelings are flaming brightly, and we continually receive petitions to take up arms and reclaim my birthright. Please, Owen, there must be something you can do to stop Catsby from plundering it all. Every story I hear grows more wicked. Kiss my daughter for me.
Elysabeth Victoria Mortimer Llewellyn Queen of Atabyrion
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Misprision
Owen had always wondered what it would be like to plummet off a waterfall. This . . . it would be like this. Sinia had gripped his arm and they had stepped into the fountain of St. Penryn together, Owen with the Wizr set clutched to his chest. It felt as if the floor had vanished and they’d dropped into an abyss. It was nothing like jumping with Evie into the cistern at Kingfountain. If he could have screamed, he would have, but it felt as if they were caught inside a waterfall on its way down, all white turbulent foam and surging power and freefalling, falling, falling . . .
There was no bone-jarring crunch. Just stillness, a sense of floating, and then he had firm footing once more. The gentle ripple of water lapped against their ankles, although the wetness could not penetrate them. Owen’s knees shook violently from the surge of power, his stomach more than queasy. He would have stumbled, but Sinia was still clutching his arm. A strange mist rose up from the waters, like an impenetrable fog.
“I must leave you here,” she said. “Severn may be able to sense my presence, though he will not understand why there has been a surge in the Fountain. I must away back to Brythonica. But I will leave you messages in the chest, and you can do the same for me. I will look forward to it.”
He turned and gazed at her, taking in her lovely smile and the look of tenderness and excitement in her eyes. His sensations struggled to reconcile the fact that they had crossed from one end of Ceredigion to the other in a mere moment.
“This is one of your powers?” he said, shaking his head in wonderment. “I never knew.”
“I trust you can keep it a secret,” she replied. “While the mist is up, no one can see or hear us. This particular fountain is not in the main hall of the sanctuary. Set the chest down inside the waters and then entrust it to the Fountain. It will disappear from view from all who aren’t Fountain-blessed. And not even everyone who is Fountain-blessed has the power to do so.”
“You mean the king could see it?” Owen pressed.
She nodded. “If he came here.”
“But you’ve seen the future and know that he will not?”
She gave him a warm look of approval and a single nod. “He will not come here.” She glided her hand along his arm, a possessive gesture. “Write to me soon, Owen. I want to help you.”
“And I’ll need your help,” he said with a chuckle. “Thank you, Sinia.” Before setting the chest into the waters, he opened it to examine the Wizr board. Sure enough, the white Wizr had moved across the board and was now adjacent to the dark king. There was a white knight next to it.
Sinia nodded to him, but said nothing. He shut the lid and then settled the chest back into the waters. Just as his hands were about to enter it, the waters were repelled back, clearing a dry space on the floor of the fountain. It amazed and astounded him still.
“May the Fountain guide you, my beloved,” she said, her voice full of longing.
Her words caught him off guard. He had pledged himself to marry her. They had thrown the dice together to unseat a king. But the thought of being loved by someone, of being cherished, filled him with conflicting emotions.
“And you,” he replied. She gave him an awkward look, then pressed up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek, grazing his thick stubble. And she vanished in an instant. Before he could kiss her back.
He stared at where she had been standing and realized with a chuckle that she’d left her sandals back on the rail of the fountain of St. Penryn. He stepped away from the fountain, and the mist fell away, sloughing off like powder. His heart burned with purpose as he walked away from the fountain. There were few visitors in the sanctuary that day, so no one seemed to notice him. When Owen left the building, he saw a black smudge of cloud starting to fester in the northern sky.
Owen entered the palace grounds through the Espion gate he had once used as a child. He did not want word of his return spreading too quickly. By his estimation, Etayne would not arrive for another day or two. He had already left a note for her at the inn where they’d arranged to meet, explaining that he had returned ahead of her and to look for further messages from him inside her tower.
The sunlight was fading, filling the sky with the ink of darkness. Taking care to avoid people, he made his way to the Espion tunnels without being seen. Then he grabbed a lamp and maneuvered his way to the king’s council chamber. The sound of voices emanating from beyond the wall made him slow his approach. He found the latch to open the spy hole and extinguished the lamp before releasing it.