The Hollow Crown (Kingfountain #4)

A staff lunged from the foliage and struck her ribs. She’d been too slow to dodge it. Grunting with pain, she dropped down, fetched her staff, and hurried off in the direction she had seen the fire. The maze turned her around a few times, but she kept moving, listening to the sound of rustling and whispers from beyond the wall. In the daylight, the hedge maze would have been much easier to navigate. The darkness and shadows made it difficult to find offshoot corridors. But Trynne was persistent and pulled herself up several times to spy her way. She was getting closer to the end when she heard the noise of people entering the maze behind her. It sounded like the five others were coming in at the same time.

As she drew nearer to the glow of the pit fire, she saw more details amidst the green leaves of the vines of the maze.

Then she heard a series of thumps, followed by grunts of pain. With a twinge, she recognized Fallon’s voice.

“You craven gunnnghh!” It sounded as if his words had been broken off by a blow.

“I thought it was you,” Prince Elwis muttered darkly. “What magic is it that disguises your face, Llewellyn? Hold him fast!”

The voices were coming from Trynne’s right, but when she hurried to reach them, she found herself at a dead end. She’d gone the wrong way. She was about to turn around and walk away when she heard the voices coming from behind her.

“A ring, is it? Where did you get this?”

Trynne felt the stream of Fountain magic, which she’d sensed throughout the competition, suddenly vanish.

“Pizzle in the Deep Fathoms,” Fallon cursed at him. There was the noise of fist punching stomach and another groan.

“I’ll take it as a keepsake. You thought you could trick us, Llewellyn? Well, you won’t be getting past the hedge maze. At least not tonight.”

“When I get out of this,” Fallon wheezed in warning.

“You’ll do what? Weep to your mum?” His voice took on a childish taunt. “Life is so unfair. ‘I have a scrape, Mum. Will you kiss it?’ You pampered nobles disgust me.”

Trynne wondered if she should climb up the trellis and jump down to the other side, but then she realized that perhaps it was the right way to go. The jasmine vines were thick enough that they could overhang a gap and only look like a wall. She pushed her way through the vines and was suddenly at the end of the maze.

There was Prince Elwis with four of his guards. Three of them were in the process of chaining Fallon to the trellis to stop him from competing.

“Ah, the painted knight. The Atabyrion,” Elwis said dispassionately. “The short one.” His expression turned sour. “I don’t like the thought of one of your countrymen winning my kingdom’s Gauntlet either, Llewellyn.” He gave Trynne a cold look. “You’ll stay here too, Woady. Take him,” he barked.

Trynne was ready for the attack from behind. She’d seen Elwis’s eyes dart behind her, and her magic had warned her there were men sneaking up. Trynne did not have time for a sustained fight, so she twisted into a low stance and swung her staff up and over her head backward, cracking it against the skull of one of her attackers. As she untwisted her legs, she brought it around again and dropped the second man.

Elwis’s eyes widened with surprise.

Trynne went after him, but two of the guards closed ranks in front of him, blocking her. She dispatched both of them in seconds. The magic of the wellspring filled her with knowledge, but her magic and strength were both gushing out of her. She heard a sword clear its scabbard and saw Elwis was armed, his eyes dark with menace.

“You think that you can best me, boy?” Elwis sneered.

Trynne adjusted her grip on the staff. Pole against sword. Little though he might know it, Elwis was already at a disadvantage. She had the longer reach. She maintained a defensive posture and waited for him to attack her, slowing the ebb of her magic.

“I warn you,” Elwis taunted. “I’ve never been defeated. If you face me, you won’t be walking out of this maze. You won’t be walking anywhere.”

But in a few quick moves, Fallon bested one of the guards trying to subdue him, wrapping an arm around the man’s neck and struggling to choke him.

Trynne did not answer. She didn’t want her voice to shake. She wasn’t afraid of Prince Elwis and she hesitantly reached out with her magic, looking for a weakness to exploit. The truth of the matter was that he was just as capable as he claimed to be. He had trained and practiced for years, had pushed himself to succeed in every imaginable way. He was a disciplined warrior, not opposed to using tricks and deceit to win. He’d even been trained at the poisoner school. She could sense his skill brooding beneath the surface.

She bowed to him, saluting with the staff, and then waited for him to make his move.

Elwis charged at her, using his sword to jab and thrust at her. He was trying to injure her. She defended herself, her only goal to stay conscious and knock him senseless. She could see no recognition in his eyes. Her soldier’s garb and woad stains had completely fooled him. Magic leached from her faster and faster.

The sword came down and Trynne caught it, then jammed the end of her spear into the prince’s stomach so hard he bowed over, clutching his chest. He couldn’t breathe, but he fought on. When she whipped the staff around to crush his cheek, he ducked and rolled forward, a dangerous move, and tried to stab her. Trynne pivoted and the blade rushed past her harmlessly. She trapped his wrist against her side, then jammed her knuckles holding the staff against his throat and flipped him over and onto his back. He struck the stones so hard that he blacked out.

Trynne stared at the body, gasping hard and feeling her knees tremble. Captain Staeli could not have done any better.

The other guard slumped to the ground, also unconscious. Fallon, free of his disguise, was staring at her keenly. Did he recognize her? She wasn’t sure. She couldn’t get enough air and felt the black edges closing in around her eyes.

Trynne knelt down by Elwis, keeping her painted profile facing Fallon. She felt his neck to make sure he was breathing. His pulse was ragged, but he would survive and awaken with great pain. At his collar, she saw the champion necklace and the little gold badges affixed to the chain. He had four of them. It was one of the rules of Virtus that a knight who was challenged had to fight a duel, and if they lost, they lost their tokens. Trynne hadn’t challenged Elwis in words, but he had challenged her by attacking first. By rights, the necklace he wore so proudly was hers. She snapped it off his neck and cupped it in her hand.

Fallon chuckled. “You’ve made a mortal enemy,” he said with a grunt. “Believe me, I know. What’s your name?”

She kept her voice low. “Fidelis, my lord. They call me Ellis.” She had chosen the name earlier as a nod to the Atabyrion word fidelis. Faithful.

Fallon wrinkled his brow. “You’ve done me good service today, Ellis. Do I know your family? You look familiar.”

Trynne dug her hand into Elwis’s pocket and found the ring that he had taken from Fallon. She could sense the Fountain magic inside it, radiating like smoking coals.

Before she could pass it to Fallon, he smiled and shook his head. “Let him keep it,” he whispered conspiratorially. “It’s cursed, actually. I meant for him to have it all along.”