by Jeff Wheeler
“A fair question. I have a very curious nature,” Morwenna answered. “There are lots of books at the poisoner school in Pisan. Some are translations. Some have been handed down for centuries—very musty. Those I like best! I came across one in the map room. The poisoner school has the best maps because it has kept track of the boundary changes between kingdoms for generations. Older maps are rather useless, so nobody looks at them very often, preferring the newer maps that have more current information. But I like studying the past. I grew up reading stories from translations of The Vulgate. I used to spend hours reading them by the fire while Father dozed.” She had a faraway look in her eyes. “Then one day I came across a map that was very different from the rest.”
“How so?” Trynne asked, but she felt she already knew.
“Well, most maps—the good ones—contain lines vertical showing north and south and horizontal ones showing east and west. Other maps mark sea routes that connect ports to ports. The map that I found looked like both, but the routes were neither sea routes nor were they simply cardinal points. What intrigued me about it was that the lines seem to gather and connect around certain cities. Like Kingfountain and Ploemeur and Marq. The lines spread out from those cities like wagon spokes. All across the map, I kept seeing those same spokes. That’s what I called them then. I didn’t know the true name. None of the people I asked about the book could explain what it meant. They offered explanations like wagon routes or some other nonsense to try and discourage me. But I would not be deterred. I’m really quite stubborn, Trynne. Especially when I want to know something.”
“But what about your poisoner studies?” Trynne asked. “I thought you wanted that?”
“I do, of course! It’s just that I’ve always been blessed with a very strong memory. I can hear a detail once and recall it later. So much of poisoner school is repetition. They teach you these little sayings and chants to help memorize plants and flowers and such.” She shrugged. “I only needed to hear things once to remember them. It normally takes three years to finish training, but I finished the studies in a year. The physical training takes longer, of course—I wasn’t going to skip that! But I had a lot of free time to read and that’s when I discovered the truth about The Vulgate. You already know this, right? That the ancient text holds words of power? If you’re Fountain-blessed, you only need to say the word—or even think it—to trigger the magic. I was so intrigued! As I read one of the older copies of The Vulgate—I think it was volume twelve—I came across the story of Myrddin using his magic to travel great distances. I discovered the word in that book. So then I went to the map room to try it out. Well, I didn’t want to startle anyone at Kingfountain by just showing up, so I tried to get to Glosstyr to see my father. But somehow I overshot it and ended up at Dundrennan instead.”
Trynne was so fascinated by the tale that she had stopped looking for Dragan. She knew Fallon had been spending much of his time at Dundrennan since becoming the duke of the North.
“The magic completely exhausted me,” Morwenna continued, shaking her head and chuckling softly to herself. “I was so spent . . . so sick . . . after leaving the fountain’s edge, I threw up and fell unconscious. The servants were startled to find me, and when I was finally strong enough to open my eyes, Fallon was there as my kindhearted nurse. He was very curious to find out how I had gotten there without anyone knowing.” Morwenna sighed and smiled with the memory. “He’s a good friend.” Then she paused, her brow wrinkling. “I’ve said something wrong. You look pale.”
Trynne felt as if a dagger had been plunged into her heart and was slowly twisting. She could hardly breathe. Her mouth was hot and dry and she was suddenly light-headed.
“Did I offend you?” Morwenna said in a worried tone.
“No . . . not at all.” It was difficult getting the words out.
Then Morwenna’s eyes widened. “Oh,” she whispered. “Oh, I see.” She began to nod her head slowly. “I’m sorry, Trynne. I was so caught up telling you my story that I hadn’t noticed it until now.” She licked her lips and glanced at the throng passing the alley entrance. “I should have picked up on it sooner, but you are very discreet. He doesn’t know; you can be certain of that.”
“Doesn’t know . . . what?” Trynne asked in confusion.
“How you feel about him,” Morwenna said as if Trynne were a simpleton. “I’ve an unfair advantage. Most women can spot such things quickly enough, but I’ve been trained at the poisoner school to notice such little signs of . . . tenderness. You mask yours well, Trynne, I’ll give you that. It’s the injury. Most people give themselves away with their mouth. But it was your eyes that told me.” She put her hand on Trynne’s shoulder. “Let me be perfectly frank with you. Fallon is my friend and I know that he is also yours. He speaks of you as if you were his own sister . . . with as much respect as he has toward the queen. He’s handsome and quite gallant,” she added with a droll smile. “A girl could get a bit breathless around him. But I assure you that I harbor no romantic feelings toward him.” She then sighed and looked directly into Trynne’s eyes. “He may be a bit . . . interested in me. I haven’t encouraged it, and I won’t, especially because I can tell that would hurt you. I do consider you a friend, Trynne. It was Fallon who persuaded me to tell the king and your father about my discovery. And your father explained the ley lines to me and told me what they are properly called. As I said, I’ve been a little jealous of you all these years. You know these things already, and I’ve had to struggle to learn each of the words. I’m sure you know so many more than I do. I won’t ask you to teach me, for that wouldn’t be proper. I’m a poisoner, not a Wizr. But I do serve my brother. As for why I’m here, I think it would be best if Fallon explained it to you himself.”
Trynne blinked with surprise. “I’m not sure . . .” She could not think of a reason why she shouldn’t stay. Nor could she summon the will to say no because she had only seen Fallon rarely during the last few years, and each time she had, her heart had been in commotion for weeks afterward.
Morwenna gave her a pointed look. “I won’t hear any objection. Everyone in this city is trying to find him right now so that Elwis can stop him from participating in the Gauntlet or humiliate him during it.” She rubbed Trynne’s arm. “I know he’ll be happy to see you. Come, let’s go together. If Dragan’s smart, he’s already on a gondola where the water will protect him from our magic. I just wish there were a waterfall nearby so that we could throw him over the edge!”
The Oberon was a small home built along a waterway so that it couldn’t be approached on foot. The walls were made of red brick, and there were stained wooden planks fastened to the bricks in the front. It was two stories high with a long row of windows, each one small and paned with glass embedded with diamond-shaped wires. The roof from the upper level sloped toward the river, exposing four different dormer rooms of varying size. Two stubby chimneys appeared in the middle of the roof, and a section of the lower floor jutted slightly out over the river into a wide bay window with an additional piece of roof covering it. It was distinctive and interesting and crowded between other brick houses on one side and a brick wall on the other, which had a small landing pad and a locked iron door. The wall implied there was a small yard on the other side, but it was impossible to tell. Vines crept up the wall and the side of the bricks near the door.
Trynne’s heart was thumping painfully in her chest as the boatman guided their gondola toward the landing with a staff. The boat swayed a little. There were lily pads clustered around the base of the house, and Trynne spied a dragonfly buzzing over one.
She was nervous about meeting Fallon again, especially in light of Morwenna’s tale. After hiring the gondola, they had gone on a brief tour of the city of Marq with its waterways and crowded streets. Trynne would have enjoyed the adventure more had she not felt so heartsick. After learning about the ley lines, Morwenna had used them to come and go at Kingfountain’s palace, much like Trynne did, except the poisoner’s visits were muc
h less predictable and scheduled. Morwenna had been to most of the kingdoms already, it turned out, and she’d learned a lot about the different customs in those other lands.
She was living the kind of life that Trynne had always coveted.
The boat reached the platform and the iron door opened, revealing two men who made and received Espion hand signals. They quickly ushered the two ladies and Captain Staeli off the boat and in through the door.
As Trynne shuffled down the corridor of the Oberon, gazing at the beams supporting the roof and taking in the sights and sounds, she heard voices and laughter from the common room ahead. She recognized Fallon’s voice amidst the din. Her mouth went dry again and she wiped her hands on her dark skirts. The corridor was stifling hot and the smell of wood rot and smoke hung in the air.
Morwenna unfastened her cloak and took it off, preparing to hang it as they entered. Trynne noticed that the chemise she was wearing beneath the cloak was pulled open at the shoulders, leaving only the kirtle straps to cover her skin. She felt another flush of jealousy, especially as they entered the common area and all the men’s eyes instantly shot to Morwenna. The girl seemed to glow with the sudden attention she was receiving.
A few of the Espion glanced at Trynne, but their attention was quickly drawn to the more alluring woman.
Trynne saw Fallon sitting jauntily in a seat, leaning back on his chair so that the front legs were lifted up. He looked older than she remembered, his face fuzzy and unshaven. His dark hair was a mess and he looked so casual. His eyes lit up when he saw Morwenna enter, burning with frank hunger. There was no sign of the indifference with which he’d viewed her years before, when the three of them were last together, and a sick feeling seized Trynne’s chest. Greed. Jealousy. Her oaths had warned her of this too.
Then his gaze shot to Trynne.
His expression transformed, looking almost guilty when the recognition settled in.
“Cousin?” he belted out in surprise and wonder.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Spurned
It wasn’t long before Trynne’s embarrassment and discomfort melted away in the face of Fallon’s personality. He could chase away a thunderstorm with one of his witty sayings and a smile. It was clear he was quite at home amongst the Espion and that he and Morwenna had become closer. But it was equally clear that he was grateful for whatever tides of fate had brought Trynne to his table.
“So your mother sent you to Marq to fetch a dusty book,” Fallon said, stroking his chin. “And you brought Captain Staeli—the stouthearted Westmarcher—as your guardian. Can’t argue with the choice—the man is all ice and iron. Welcome, Captain!”
Staeli shrugged off the younger man’s exuberance with narrow eyes, ignoring him utterly, and headed to the periphery of the room to speak in low tones with some of the Espion gathered there.
Fallon smirked at the snub and leaned forward, thumping the table with his elbow. “Cousin, Cousin, Cousin, so you didn’t come to Marq to watch me face the Gauntlet. I’m crushed. Truly. But how did you find Morwenna? You look like a local girl,” he added, tugging at the garter around her elbow, then letting it snap back against her arm. She pulled her arm away from him.
“I found her,” Morwenna added with a sly grin, “chasing after the thief Dragan.”
Fallon startled, sitting up, his expressive eyes widening. “Truly? The blackguard is here?”
Trynne nodded. “I felt his magic and he felt mine. I don’t think he realized whom he had stumbled upon until he saw me from the window of the bookshop. He fled when Captain Staeli and I went after him.”
“Of course he did!” Fallon said, his brow wrinkling. “Now there’s a man I’d like to drown in the Deep Fathoms. So he took one look at you and tucked tail and ran.” He shook his head. “Well, if I run into him, then I’ll be sure to punch him in the mouth for you. Ere I turn him in to the Espion for greater tortures.” He reached out and playfully pushed her shoulder. “I can’t believe you are here. I hadn’t expected it.”
“I knew you were here,” Trynne said, giving him an arch look.
“A lucky guess, perhaps?”
She screwed up her nose. “No, your sister told me.”
“So you’ve been to the palace recently? How fares Genny? I’ve not seen either of you in months!”
“She is in excellent health,” Trynne replied. Her stomach was still a little giddy, but each moment with him made her feel more at ease. “There are many cares at the moment.”
“Aren’t there always? People worry too much about things they cannot control. Never greet a devil till you meet one or cross a bridge before you’ve reached it. Ten times out of nine things aren’t as bad as we fear them to be.”
“Don’t you mean nine times out of ten?” Morwenna quipped.
“That’s how I heard it originally,” Fallon said, giving her a wicked smile. “But every saying can bear a little improvement. So, Cousin,” he said, addressing Trynne again. “You no doubt wonder why I am here with the king’s poisoner.”
“It had crossed my mind,” she answered in a neutral tone.
“Well, Morwenna stumbled into Dundrennan . . . did she already tell you? Ah, she did. Yes, she literally stumbled there, sprawled out on the floor. What a mess. I was able to coax a few secrets from her, namely, how she arrived using magic. You know how much I loathe secrets.” He gave her a slightly challenging look. “In order to get a seat at the ‘Table of Splinters’ and become a permanent member of the king’s council, one must pass all the Gauntlets. There are only so many seats, you know. I intend to be the first who passes all of them. I’ve passed the one in Edonburick, naturally. I’ve also been to Legault. Theirs was easy. Legaultans have no imagination. It’s no secret how much Prince Elwis and I hate each other. Our fathers have sworn that they will do everything they can to keep us apart. But I know dogs like Elwis never sleep without dreaming about mischief. Elwis is eager to see me fail. So I hatched this idea of getting into the city before anyone learned I was here. The Gauntlet is this evening at dusk, and I intend to win it and then vanish before Elwis’s nose.” He wagged his eyebrows. “Poisoners know the arts of disguise, and Morwenna especially so.” He glanced at the king’s half sister again and gave her a knowing look. “I can’t wait to see Elwis’s face when he realizes he’s lost to me.”
Trynne felt a little wary by the tone of the banter. “Will Elwis be competing? I thought he was already a champion of Brugia?”
Fallon shook his head. “You are right. He already bested it. He’s also won the badges of Occitania and Legault, but that’s it.”
“So you’re tied?”
Fallon shrugged. “Not for long. When I get this one, it will put me ahead. That I do it under his nose will add salt to the steak.”
Trynne felt a guilty throb in her heart. Fallon didn’t realize that she intended to pass the Gauntlet as well. Right under his nose.
“So this is your first time to Brugia, is it not?” Fallon asked, scratching his bottom lip and arching an eyebrow.
“It is,” Trynne answered. “It’s a beautiful city.”
“It smells like dead fish,” he bantered.
“So does Edonburick, I hear.”
“Only down on the docks, not up in the cliffs. I miss our chatter, Trynne. So you are training to be a Wizr yourself? Do you know how to whisk yourself away now like your mother does, or did she bring you?”
Trynne felt a little offended. “I came on my own.”
He held up his hand repentantly. “Good, that’s good. So why haven’t you come to Dundrennan to see me? Now that I know you can, I’ll be expecting it.”
“I can’t really just . . . go wherever I want,” Trynne said, glancing over at Captain Staeli.
“Why not?”
“Because my parents trust me, Fallon. My father may not be the head of the Espion anymore, but he may as well be for all they tell him.”
He waved his hand. “That’s an excuse. You don’t because you are
afraid.” He pitched his voice lower. “You’ve had that bodyguard with you ever since you were attacked.”
Trynne’s heart was starting to burn with discomfort. She wished Morwenna were not witnessing the conversation.
Leaning forward, his elbow planted on the table, Fallon tapped his lips on his clenched fist. “I’m sure your mother is worried sick about you right now. That’s what parents do. She probably gave you a very short leash for this visit, but you’re nearly a grown woman now, Trynne. Time to leave the nest.” He reached out and snatched her hand. “We are going to sneak away and steal a boat. Right now. Morwenna, would you distract the captain for a few moments?”
Trynne jerked her hand away, her cheeks flushing. “I will not do that, Fallon Llewellyn.”
“Why not?” he challenged. “Because you’re afraid. No one is going to recognize us. No one is going to hurt you. I’d love to show you some of the sights. We’ll be back, get a scolding, and then you can watch me win the Gauntlet before you leave. Morwenna? Help me persuade her.”
Trynne was tempted. The thought of riding in a gondola with Fallon, just the two of them, was enticing. The truth of the matter was that she wasn’t afraid of being away from Captain Staeli. She was afraid of breaking her parents’ trust in her, the oath she’d made never to go anywhere without a guard. What was more, she could almost hear Myrddin’s voice in her head—never swear an oath falsely. Yes, this was about more than a simple afternoon.
“I don’t think she wants to be persuaded,” Morwenna said, reaching out and touching Trynne’s arm. “You’re very impulsive, Fallon. She is not.”
“So you are both against me?” he said defensively, leaning back in his chair. He looked at Trynne with obvious disappointment. “Someday you will need to make your own decisions. You’ll need to stop trying to please everyone.”
Trynne’s cheeks flushed. Fallon didn’t know the conflict that raged in her heart. He was judging her unfairly.