The Silent Shield (Kingfountain #5)(48)

The source of the magic was in the room. It had beckoned to her while she climbed the steps. Trynne hurriedly examined the contents of the table—an assortment of vials, mortars and pestles, and the accoutrements of the poisoner craft. There were concoctions already made, little vials full of amber, red, and purple ichor. Her magic warned her of the danger emanating from them. Looking at them made her skin crawl.

Would Morwenna have left any incriminating evidence in her tower? If so, where would it be hidden? It was probably still true that none of the palace staff came up there. The other entrance to the poisoner’s tower was in the kitchen, which was how Ankarette had always received her meals, left on the counter by Liona. There was a bottle of wine on a small stand by the bed, half full.

Beneath the bed, she spied a chest. Trynne listened at the doorway and heard nothing. She might not get another chance like this. Kneeling by the edge of the bed, she dragged the low chest out. But there was no magic emanating from the chest at all. There were not even any locks on it. Biting her lip, she flipped the latch that sealed it and lifted the lid.

The chest was full of men’s clothes. A tunic, a shirt, a pair of boots. But it was a badge on one of the tunics that made her heart sink like a stone. The badge of the Pierced Lion. The badge of the duke of the North. Tears pricked Trynne’s eyes as she lifted the garment to her nose. Jealousy made her feel like that pierced lion. The tunic smelled like Fallon. There was a change of his clothes in a chest beneath Morwenna’s bed. Her hands started to shake, and that’s when she heard the sound of footfalls coming from the stairwell. It was a light step. It was an urgent step.

Trynne hardly had time to consider the implications of her discovery. Her time had run out. But even as she hurriedly put the tunic back into the chest, she thought back on the clues she had witnessed before. Morwenna always told the story of how she’d accidentally appeared in Dundrennan the first time she’d used the ley lines—and then immediately fainted. She had claimed that she was trying for Kingfountain and overshot it. But Trynne realized that had probably been a lie. Morwenna likely lied a lot.

The bitter taste in her mouth was stronger than any poison. Fallon had confessed his love for Trynne. Said that he had always loved her. But had her rejection of him estranged him enough that he’d sought solace in the willing arms of another woman? She hated where her thoughts had taken her and the feelings they were breaking loose. She slid the chest beneath the bed and hurriedly sat on the edge of the mattress, trying to mask her emotions and feelings in preparation for Morwenna’s arrival.

The Argentine girl slowed her steps as she approached the landing. Trynne leaned forward, entwining her fingers, summoning her magic to defend herself if necessary. She felt Morwenna’s magic as well, spilling into the room to test for intruders. They were both aware of each other, as they had been that day in Marq. The day that Trynne and Captain Staeli had chased Dragan through the city. The day she’d first learned that Morwenna had been seeing Fallon.

Morwenna appeared in the doorway, a dagger in hand, a look of wariness on her beautiful face.

“Trynne?” Her voice was low, almost accusatory.

“I’m here,” Trynne answered, rising and clutching her bosom. “I was winded after the climb up the stairs. I’ve not been here long.”

Morwenna paused at the entry, looking suspiciously at either side of the doorway, as if anticipating an attack. She slowly lowered the dagger.

“I barely recognized you in your Eastern garb,” Morwenna said. “Where did you get it? It’s very authentic.”

“I borrowed it from someone,” Trynne answered, deliberately vague. “I think we should go to Chandigarl now. It is nearly sunset. What time of day would it be in the Forbidden Court?”

“I hadn’t heard you’d returned to Kingfountain. No one sent for me.” Morwenna glanced around the room surreptitiously, as if trying to see if any of her things had been rifled through.

“I just arrived.”

“Apparently so.” Her wariness was softening. “I’m sorry for my lack of courtesy, Trynne. I don’t entertain visitors up here . . . very often. You startled me.”

Was there a double meaning in her words? A test to see Trynne’s reaction? She wrestled with her feelings.

“I’m not surprised to hear it. It’s quite a climb.”

Morwenna shrugged. “Sunset means it is nearly sunrise in Chandigarl. I’ve found the timing to be quite opposite whenever I’ve gone there. This works well for two reasons. Firstly, the corridors will be mostly filled with servants, so we will not seem out of place. Secondly, I’ve just given Rucrius a sleeping draft. He’ll be unconscious for a long time. Some poisons impede magic. I’m sure you’ve probably guessed that. It would be better for us to leave while the potion is still working. Shall we go to the fountain, then?” She finished her words with an encouraging smile.

“Will you need to change your clothes?” Trynne asked.

Morwenna shook her head. “I have a ring that alters my appearance and radiates very little magic. There are so many treasures in the Forbidden Court, so many relics of the Deep Fathoms, ours will hardly stand out. Have you had any word from Lady Sinia? I do miss her guidance.”

Trynne had to breathe deeply to endure the stab of pain in her heart. She shook her head no.

“I pray to the Fountain she is well,” Morwenna said graciously. The two young women started down the steps together, and Morwenna linked arms with her as she’d done so often in the past.