The King's Traitor (Kingfountain #3)(65)

Etayne blinked. “The woods in Brythonica. The silver bowl!”

Owen nodded approvingly. “I knew you’d catch on. It all fits. Perhaps Myrddin is still there. Do I dare ask her about it? Is she expecting me to figure it out so she can confirm it? There are riddles inside riddles, and I feel as if I’ve been chipping away the layers to reveal the gem glistening beneath.”

Etayne’s eyes were fearful. “What if she destroys you?” she asked.

Owen sighed. “To be honest, I don’t think she can. Her powers are vast. I sensed them. But I don’t think she can use them against me any more than any other Fountain-blessed could. I’m immune, like that sailor was to the Siren’s song. Back and again, back and again,” he muttered.

A fist pounded on the door, startling them both.

Heart racing in his chest, Owen hurried over to the door and unbolted it. Catsby waited on the other side with two of his knights. The duke of the North looked furious, and when he spoke, his tone was thick with accusation.

“I hear that you’re betrothed to the Duchess of Brythonica.”

Owen felt a blistering retort come to his tongue, but stopped himself from releasing it. He took a steadying breath. “That is true, Catsby. Thank you,” he added, as if the man had congratulated him.

Catsby’s fury heightened to outrage. “Westmarch, the Espion, and Brythonica? It was a ploy all along.”

Owen looked at him in confusion.

Catsby tossed up his hands. “The king’s!” he snorted. “He assured me that the duchess would sooner wed a scorpion than you, that it was a pretext to go to war and nothing would come of it. Now I see that he only wanted to enrich you more.”

“Have a care,” Owen warned him. “You’re not lacking for treasures yourself, man.”

“But he always rewards you the most.” Catsby frowned bitterly. “Well, I’m off to Dundrennan to do the impossible. The people can’t abide me and now I must force them to muster soldiers. It’s not fair that you get all the rewards. I’ve served the king loyally for years.”

Fearing that he’d unleash one of the insults dancing on his tongue if he were to open his mouth, Owen simply nodded.

Catsby gave him a look of disapproval and then snapped his fingers for the knights to follow him.

Owen shut the door and turned back to Etayne, letting out his breath as he slumped against the wood. “It was harder than I thought it would be.”

“What? Being civil?” Etayne said.

He glowered at her, but couldn’t hold back a grin. She knew him well.

“What are you going to do next?” she asked him.

Owen rubbed his hands together. “I’m going back to the sanctuary. I was going to write the note here and bring it with me, but seeing Catsby and his soldiers reminded me that it would be foolish to carry treasonous notes in my pocket. That’s how Ratcliffe met his end.”

Etayne nodded. “Do you need a disguise before you go?”

“No, I’m going to bring a coin and make a wish at the fountain. What further pretext do I need?”

After collecting a little bottle of ink, a quill, and some paper, he took his coin pouch and walked hurriedly to the sanctuary of Our Lady. There were still piles of correspondence to read, orders to write up for Captain Ashby, who would summon Owen’s retainers for war, but his thoughts still turned to Sinia as he walked. Snow drifted lazily down onto his expensive cloak, adding splotches of white. The air was crisp and cold. Winter had come early. And Owen had brought it with him in a Wizr set.

The grounds of the sanctuary contained fewer people this day, the chill having kept many indoors. Owen brushed off his sleeves as he entered and stood by the main fountain, deliberately choosing to stand on a white tile. He withdrew a coin and studied it a moment. He had intended to feign a prayerful stance and fling the coin in like a pious young man would.

But to his surprise, he felt the desire to commune with the Fountain stir inside him. He had not done so in a long while.

Bless me with courage and not fear. Bless me with the wisdom to know whom to trust and to be worthy of trust. Bless me with the strength to serve and not the desire to be served. Bless me with the humility to be ruled and not the will to rule. Give me the faith to do the Fountain’s bidding. Bless me to rise to it.

After waiting silently, listening for an answer that didn’t come, he tossed the coin into the water, watching the surface ripple after the coin plunged to the bottom. He stared at the ripples, the expanding circles that chased after each other, never touching. One action caused so many consequences. He watched until the ripples vanished and the water became smooth again.

He glanced around the hall and saw a few families and individuals milling around, mostly admiring the structure or, like him, paying their devotions. When he was certain no one was watching, he surreptitiously made his way into the alcove by which he had returned to Kingfountain. He walked around the smaller fountain, the waters lapping and bubbling soothingly. From that vantage, he would see if anyone was approaching.

He sat down at the edge of the fountain, feeling a few droplets land on his arm. When he was certain no one was watching, he summoned the Wizr chest, reached into the waters, and dragged it out by the handle. Using the key around his neck, he unlocked it and lifted the lid.

Inside the box awaited a note addressed to him in Sinia’s elegant script. There was also a small towel full of berries nestled into an empty portion of the board. He smiled as he plopped one of the fruits into his mouth; it was absolutely soft, sweet, and delicious. Reaching down, he lifted another one, imagining she had plucked it from the field with her own fingers.