The Forsaken Throne (Kingfountain #6)

“Do we run?” Fallon asked softly.

Trynne felt the seclusion of the cave would offer more protection. At least they would know no one was coming at them from behind. “I think we fight it out inside here,” she said. “The entrance isn’t very big. They won’t be able to charge us in large numbers. It’s as good a place as any to withstand a siege. We need time, that is all.”

“If the device you have can truly get us out of here,” Owen said, “then yes, this would be a good place to make a stand.”

“Just like Dundrennan,” Fallon said, glancing back at her with a smile of remembrance.

As he said the words, she recalled being on top of that tower with him, the stars glittering like jewels above them as he took her into his arms and kissed her. The memory of that kiss still haunted her. It made her yearn for what might have been. Was he remembering it as well?

“I can hear them,” Owen said. His sense of hearing had always been exquisitely sharp. As they quieted their breathing, soon they could all hear the noise of the dogs snuffling through the brush toward the cave. Within moments, the hounds reached the entrance and started barking fiercely.

Men shouted to each other. Then the bob of torches and light came nearer, revealing the menacing hounds outside the cave. The slavering noise, the scratching of claws against the gravel—all showed the beasts’ eagerness to attack.

“. . . the dogs, they can’t hear us. Silence them. Come on.” It was Quivel’s voice.

The hunters came and pulled the dogs away by their collars.

The noise of tromping men filtered into the space.

“Can you hear me now?” Quivel asked. “Look, it’s not sunrise yet. Cannot we bargain? There is no magic I can use to force you to come out of there. I know that. But I’m content to kill you by other means if it prevents me from being trapped here. I have some poisonous leaves. If I make a fire and blow the smoke in there, you will all sicken and die. Then I can take back what you stole from me.

But I cannot leave unless I know who is waiting for you on the other side. So can we not be civilized at— nnnnghh! ”

An arrow struck Quivel in the breast, spinning him around and dropping him. The dogs started howling again as the whistle of arrows filled the air. The hunters began to shout in panic, and the hounds went into a frenzy of terror. They jerked free of their masters and fled.

Fallon craned his neck, expression full of surprise, trying to see what was going on, and Trynne couldn’t help but do the same.

Arrows had rained down on the sentries outside the cave, dropping them one by one. The others began to flee in confusion, dropping their torches and scattering back toward the trail.

The commotion ended and darkness settled in once again. But there was a little glimmer in the sky, the faintest touch of dawn that brought Fallon’s face into the grayish light. His gaze was still fixed on the entrance to the cave.

The noise of boots scrambling down the rocks was followed by the thud of someone landing before the cave. Gravel crunched beneath the heavy steps. They heard the noise of a man hocking and spitting.

“By Cheshu, look at them run,” Martin said gruffly. He sniffed.

They could see his boots and lower body. He stepped on Quivel’s chest and yanked the arrow out of the dead man. Then he ducked low, his frame filling the gap. “Come on out, my little ferrets. They’re on the run now. They’ll trouble you no more.”

Fallon smiled. He shuffled forward a few paces. “How many men did you bring, Martin?”

“Just Deven and a few others. A good hunter with a bow is worth twenty men with naught but swords. The hunter is patient. The prey is careless. I don’t think they realized they were the prey until the end.”





CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX


The Crooked Tree


Despite the reassuring tone in Martin’s voice, Trynne was distrustful.

Fallon looked ready to head out, but she caught his arm and gave him a warning look. “How did you know we’d be here?” Trynne asked the grizzled hunter. She couldn’t sense anyone who was Fountain-blessed or possessed magic. Still, she did not feel entirely safe.

“Bah,” Martin said with a snort. “Didn’t know that, lass. But I won’t mistake this for coincidence. I have seen enough in my years to convince me the Medium is real. I knew you two were heading to Dieyre’s army to seek your father. There were rumors about Dieyre’s new strategist. I pieced it together.

“I’ve had my Evnissyen up in these mountains for weeks trying to find a back way in, since the front is heavily guarded. Deven and I made haste here and arrived last night. We were on the lookout for you. We camped high up, so we saw Dieyre’s hunters chasing you. I told you I would aid you if I could.”

His gaze shifted to Owen. “I’m guessing you found the one you’ve been seeking?”

Martin was a canny hunter. She had assumed that he would try to follow their trail through the cursed woods if he decided to follow them. But now that she thought on it, he had already suspected their destination. It made sense that he had taken the safest way there.

“I’ll go out first,” Fallon said to her. “I think we’ll be all right.”

Although she was still hesitant, she gave him a nod and gripped her sword hilt, ready to fight if need be. Ducking low, Fallon crept toward the edge of the cave and soon emerged.

“Well met, Martin,” he said. “Hello, Deven.”

“Well met, indeed, by Cheshu,” said the hunter. “Deven, take the rest of the Evnissyen and hunt down those who escaped. Claim their uniforms and badges. They will come in handy later, I should think. I’ll take yours too, lad, if you’ll not be needing it.”

The sky was beginning to brighten, each moment bringing more light to the interior of the cave. She glanced back at her father. He was watching the entrance, his eyes squinting in the gloom.

Reaching out, she put her hand on his shoulder.

He gave her a sad smile and then nodded. “I think we are safe.”

They left the cave together and joined the others.

“So where are you bound?” Martin asked when he saw them.

“You can’t go back to the queen. When you disappeared like that, snuffed and vanished like a conjurer’s trick, she was all too keen to find you. The whole army is on the look for ye. I can get you a boat if you need one. The Evnissyen are loyal to me.”

“The question is,” Fallon asked, “why are you still loyal to her?”

Martin’s face scrunched up at the question. “You are young, lad.” He bared his teeth in a grimace. “You don’t understand the pull of family.”

Fallon’s face became intense and serious. “I think I do.”

“So long as there is a spark of hope—a single ember burning in the ashes, the faintest puff of smoke—that my granddaughter can be saved, I will cling to it. The Myriad Ones have her, lad. It’s plain enough to see. There was a time, years back, when she was an innocent. We cannot return to the past. No traveler can. But so long as I have memories of her then, it makes me determined to see that cursed hetaera Leering smashed into rubble.”

Fallon pursed his lips and nodded. “I see that you cannot be swayed from your path.”

“Aye, lad. That Leering was taken somewhere. And I mean to find it.”

Trynne admired his courage, his unwillingness to accept that his granddaughter was lost forever. Maybe it was a foolish hope. But it was the kind of hope that she herself had clung to after her father’s disappearance. Now her father stood by her side—evidence that some hopes were fulfilled.

“I had wondered if we could persuade you to join us,” Trynne said. “This war is going to destroy all the kingdoms. Dieyre knows it, but he still won’t back down. It’s not too late to escape, Martin. You can come with us to Muirwood and leave this place.” She hoped he would say yes. She would like to introduce him to Captain Staeli.