The Forsaken Throne (Kingfountain #6)

“Yes, my lord. I know now how they were taken—and how they can be returned.” She inclined her head to him. “I also know where Firebos is being concealed. And my husband’s scabbard.” She patted Owen’s chest. “It too shall be restored. All things will be made right again.” Her countenance fell a bit as she shifted her gaze back to Trynne. “All that can be.”

Once again, they were back at the grove, but this time with Trynne’s mother and brother. The noise from the cheering crowds was gone, replaced by the sweet chirping of the woodland birds and the steady pattering of the waterfall. Gannon ambled around the oak tree’s roots, and Trynne felt a nervous gust of fear. She folded her arms, shuddering, still amazed to see her brother hale once again.

“I have so many questions . . .” Trynne said, turning to her mother. Sinia was walking hand in hand with Owen toward the plinth.

King Drew clasped his hands behind his back, standing near Trynne and brooding over the strange scene. “As do I,” he said.

“Why do I have a feeling you have already seen this moment in a vision?”

Sinia smiled at the comment and nodded to him. “When I departed Kingfountain, I said that I was being summoned back home. Back to the Deep Fathoms.”

“I recall that moment quite well,” said Drew forlornly. “Everything started to fall apart afterward.”

Sinia turned and gazed up at the crooked tree branches of the mighty oak. “I know, my lord, but there were things we needed to know. Things that I could not learn in Ploemeur.” She released Owen’s hand and turned to face them. “My birth was a secret, even to me. I was found on the beach by my parents. A water sprite. A gift from the Fountain to save Brythonica from drowning. What I say here, inside this hallowed grove, must remain a secret.” She looked calm and peaceful, serene, transformed from when Trynne had seen her last. “We sailed westward and had many adventures. Far away, across the farthest sea, is an island. A trail of stone boulders, cut with stone faces, led me there. Next to the island there’s an underwater chasm deeper than the deepest gorge. It sinks into the very heart of the sea, and all the currents of the ocean are drawn into it. It is a gateway to the Deep Fathoms.”

She paused, gazing down at the stone plinth. “We sailed into its depths. Inside the Deep Fathoms, I met my true parents.” She looked up then, her expression one of tenderness and devotion. “My father rules the Deep Fathoms. In his previous life, on another world, his body was horribly scarred and he had lost his memories. My mother is a Dryad. This,” she said, gesturing to the oak, “is a Dryad tree. They are spirit creatures, like water sprites, but of the earth instead of the sea.” She turned and faced the tree, bowing her head respectfully. “The Dryad in this tree is my sister,” she said, her words full of loving feeling. “I never knew why I felt so at home here. Why this place was sacred to me as a child. I could always feel its whispers beckoning to me.” She turned her head to face them. “A Dryad’s power is over memories. She can snatch them away with the blink of her eyes. Her kiss restores them. My sister is bound to serve the master of the ring, so she has been in bondage to Morwenna. Now that the ring has been restored to its proper owner, she will restore Owen’s memories and those of the others whose memories she has taken. The lore of the Dryads is an ancient secret.

These trees are truly the portals between worlds. The roots have powerful magic. The portals must be guarded. And kept secret.”

Sinia turned back to the tree. “Morwenna learned about her in a secret book of magic called The Hidden Vulgate. It is a book of great power and greater evil. It was created, originally, by my father’s brother, a terrible ruler who once enslaved all the kingdoms of his world and destroyed them. His essence is bound inside that book. It cannot be unmade. But it was hidden by Morwenna and it will remain hidden. Her connection to the book has been broken, but her hatred cannot be cured.

“A Dryad will not appear to mortals unless forced to,” she said after a brief pause. “She will come if commanded by the one bearing the ring. The rest of you must shield your eyes. Kneel on the plinth, if you please.”

“Can I see the Dryad?” Gannon said eagerly after approaching her. “I saw them in Mirrowen.”

Sinia smiled at him and tapped his nose. “We are in the mortal world now, Jorganon. You must resist the temptation to look.”

He frowned at the request and then joined Trynne and Drew as they knelt on the stone plinth. Trynne obediently shut her eyes and put her hand on Gannon’s shoulder to help him be still.

There were no words said. The wind rustled the branches and wafted the scent of eucalyptus throughout the grove. It was interesting how the lack of sight made Trynne’s other senses heighten. The drone of a bumblebee could be heard in the woods.

And then she heard it, the little crack of a stem. Then the delicate crunch of fallen leaves trod by bare feet. She felt the Dryad’s Fountain magic, sensed that another person had joined them in the grove. The compulsion to look was fierce. It clawed at the back of her mind, demanding that she witness the being who had stolen her father’s memories. She squeezed her eyes shut, breathing deeply.

She could feel Drew shudder beside her.

Amidst the cacophony of voices inside her head, she still heard the trickle of the waterfall, the warble of birds. And then she heard the tiniest sound—the press of a kiss. If she hadn’t been kneeling so close, she wouldn’t have heard it.

Followed by the sound of her father gasping.

“You may look now,” Sinia said reverently, her voice thick with tears of joy.

Trynne opened her eyes, staring up at her father. He stared back in recognition, his eyes sparkling with tears, his face awash with a thousand conflicting emotions. He sank to his knees, clutching Sinia’s waist, and buried his cheek against her abdomen while she stroked his hair, breathing fast and hard as if he’d jogged up the side of a hill. The look of a stranger was gone. Owen was finally himself.

Trynne crawled to him and hugged him, clutching him fiercely, with all the love in her heart.

“Trynne,” he gasped. “There you are! My Trynne!” He trembled like a leaf, as if all his strength was gone. “I’m . . . I’m breathless,” he said. “It’s all back. All of it. I remember . . . everything. Everything I’ve ever said. Jumping into the cistern. Ankarette’s smile.” His voice choked with emotion. “I never realized how sick she was. She was dying before she met me.” His trembling intensified. “I can remember every missive I’ve read. Every conversation. My mind is going to crack into pieces.”

Sinia dropped down to her knees, holding him protectively, drawing Trynne and Gannon close as well. “The magic of a Dryad’s kiss is potent. You’ll remember everything in greater detail. Every book you’ve ever read, my love. Or will read. You will be an even stronger servant to your king. I experienced the same when my mother kissed me. It takes some getting used to.”

Trynne looked hungrily at her mother. “Do you know what has happened to us, Mother? Did you see it from the Deep Fathoms?”

Sinia nodded. “I’m so proud of you. So proud of what you’ve done. This is what you were meant for, Trynne. I understand that now. I was blinded to it by my concern for the safety of my people.”

Trynne warmed at the sentiment. She’d long carried the guilt of not continuing her Wizr training. “So Gahalatine can get his memories back?”

“Yes. And Dragan too. But it cannot cure Gahalatine. He will die from Morwenna’s kiss.”

Trynne’s heart sank. She’d hoped his fate would be different.

“And his people? Are they doomed to perish?”

“I have seen visions of the future, Trynne. I cannot speak of all that I know, but Gahalatine has a special gift from the Fountain. His words are convincing. He must use his gift to persuade his people to enter the treasure ships that he had them build. Those who hearken to his word will live. Those who don’t believe in the judgment of the Fountain will perish. He must be returned to Chandigarl at once. His

sickness will kill him swiftly. But he still has the chance to save his people.”