The Silent Shield (Kingfountain #5)(26)

Trynne’s mother had taught her the magical defenses of the city multiple times. Yet Sinia had insisted on bringing both of her children to check on them one last time.

The first of the caves could only be reached during low tide. At high tide, the low entrance was submerged, concealing it from others. The jagged stone cliff was green with moss that dripped constantly as if shedding tears. Small gnats floated in the air, and the loamy smell of decaying vegetation filled Trynne’s nose as they walked up the crisp sand to the cave. Gannon dashed ahead impetuously, grinning with excitement as he rushed into the dark entrance. The hissing surf came nigh to the mouth of the cave.

There were guards posted at the beach to prevent people from stealing the beads of polished glass, which were sold in pieces of jewelry. Guards patrolled it at night as well. But their purpose was not only to guard the ancient glass; they also guarded the caves along the shore.

Sinia ducked her head and followed Gannon into the cave, grazing the sharp rocks with her hand as if she were petting an animal. Trynne was shorter than her mother and barely needed to dip her chin to get past the opening. Gannon’s laughter echoed through the confined darkness.

“Le-ah-eer,” Sinia whispered, invoking the word of power for light.

The interior of the cave began to glow. The light emanated from various stones, but the sources were hidden beneath skeins of moss and lichen. Gannon scrambled up onto a taller rock and dug his fingers through the moss to try to see it better, grinning at the magic on display.

The ground was full of sand and shells that crunched beneath their boots. It was tall enough for even Sinia to stand straight up, but the cave was pretty small. Roots from trees up on the cliffs dug into the cave, but none so deep as to penetrate the stone. Fresh water dripped from the walls, tinkling and splashing in little waterfalls to join the sand and empty into the beach.

“This is where one of you must always come,” Sinia said. The words had been spoken quietly, almost in a whisper, but they echoed off the close walls of the cave, sounding firmer, more somber. Gannon’s expression turned serious and he turned to face her, listening carefully. They had both heard this speech many times, but it felt more solemn now.

Sinia’s eyes shone in the radiance of the glowing green moss.

“Since I was very young—your age, Gannon—I have always come to these caves to invoke the magic that protects Brythonica. We will go to each of them. It doesn’t take long to come here and utter the word of power. In fact, it is sufficient to even think the word. These stones can hear you. As I’ve shown you, beneath the moss are faces carved into the rock—”

“They don’t look like faces,” Gannon interrupted.

She was not upset by it. “Not anymore, my son. We don’t know who carved them, only that they are very old. The sea has rubbed away at the stone for centuries and more. Maybe one day the protections will fail because time itself has robbed them of their faces.” She looked up at the walls with an air of reverence. “All it takes is a thought, and the protections are extended for another season. I have never forgotten my duty, nor lapsed in it in all the time since I was a little girl. Sometimes very small things have terribly large consequences.” She bowed her head, breathing in through her nose. Then she looked up at Trynne. “I am leaving with the tide. I have never before been away from Brythonica for an entire season, but this time I might be. You both know how to extend the protections. I don’t mind if Gannon does it. But Trynne, you need to ensure that it is done. Please do not let your other duties and responsibilities crowd your mind enough for you to forget.” Sinia shook her head. “You must do this, Tryneowy. I give the charge to you until Gannon is of age.” She reached out and ran her fingers through Gannon’s hair. But her eyes were riveted on Trynne.

“I will, Mother,” Trynne promised, blinking back tears.

The cave loomed above her as if it would crush her beneath its bulk. She did not want the responsibility. She did not want to be shackled for the rest of her life to Ploemeur. But neither had she made the promise lightly. She knew what was at stake.

But there was a dark part of her, a small whispering doubt as tiny as an insect, that warned her that she might not be able to fulfill her vow.





CHAPTER TEN


Upon the Feast of St. Benedick



Brythonica had long maintained a sizable navy and had standing ties with the Genevese to ship the duchy’s berries to distant realms. As Trynne stood on the stone quay in Ploemeur, she watched the sailors crawling up and down the rigging of her mother’s ship. It was a beautiful, solid galleon that could brave the open ocean.

Gannon was dabbing his tears on his sleeve, but there was a look of trembling courage on his face that hearkened to the man he would become. Trynne’s heart was heavy as she watched Sinia speaking gently with Owen’s mother and father. Morwenna had come to Ploemeur earlier to say farewell, but only family members had come to the dock. They had been gathered there for some time, and it was obvious the Genevese captain of the vessel, Captain Pyne, with his stubbled head and cheeks, was ready to leave. He kept rocking back and forth on his heels and glancing at the ship.

As soon as she finished speaking with Trynne’s grandparents, Sinia lowered herself down to Gannon’s level. She was smiling, trying to project confidence and motherly assurance, but Trynne saw the pain in her eyes. “Now you, little duke, must obey your grandparents and your sister while I’m away.”