The Silent Shield (Kingfountain #5)

“Indeed,” Sunilik said. “See that your men are positioned along the upper and lower gardens.” Then he turned to Trynne. “What would you advise?”

Once again, his deference startled her. “When we were attacked by Gahalatine, we were startled to discover that his warriors could . . . fly. Perhaps that’s not the right word, but they could leap like insects and nearly hover in the air. Walls are not a protection.”

Sunilik’s eyes widened. “The Bhikhu. Then we have even less time than I feared.”

“The what?” Trynne asked.

Sunilik clenched his fists and started to pace. “I had heard rumors of his alliance with the Bhikhu. They have the power you speak of. When he was driven from Imperial City as a young man, they say he sought refuge among the Bhikhu. That he became the ruler of their distant isle. You must away, Lady Tryneowy. You cannot be found here. Where is Samrao?”

Trynne felt her anxiety increase. She had never heard of the Bhikhu before, but she’d seen Gahalatine’s men soar through the air. As she gazed back at the lights shining in the waters of the fountains, she noticed more of those strange tall trees again.

“My lord?” she asked, her eyes following one of the long trunks up into the sky. “Can your soldiers climb those trees?”

He turned and looked at her, then shot his captain a look. “Captain Ashok?”

The tall commander frowned. “Everyone can. We’ve all climbed the palm trees since we were children.”

Sunilik smiled broadly. “Indeed. You are suggesting we hide soldiers amidst the fronds—”

“With bows or something else so they can strike from a distance,” Trynne finished for him.

“Captain Ashok, see it done,” Sunilik said.

Moments later, Samrao appeared in the doorway with a young woman dressed in the wrapped skirts and gauzy veils Trynne had seen the females in the palace wearing. This girl was dark skinned and dark haired, and elegant tattoos twined around her hands and forearms.

“Piya!” the girl cried out, rushing up to Sunilik and embracing him.

He clutched his daughter tightly, his brow furrowing into wrinkles of worry. “Sureya, this is Tryneowy Kiskaddon. You must go with her. Gahalatine is coming this very night.”

“But how can I leave you, Piya?” the girl said with raw emotion. “I will stand with you. What happens to you will happen to me!”

Sunilik looked to be in great pain. He cupped his daughter’s cheek, half-hidden by the veil. “I will bear what happens to Chandleer much better if I know you are safe. We must hurry, my daughter.”

The girl was distraught, but Trynne could tell she was mustering her courage. She pulled away from her father, stood silently for a moment, and then nodded. “I will obey you, Piya. Though I would rather stay.”

“You must go, child,” Sunilik said. “Samrao, let us go to the fountain. Captain Ashok—see to the defenses.”

“Yes, Master.”

They walked briskly through the doors into the palace. Servants were hurrying from room to room, and soldiers wearing turbans and carrying shields on their backs jogged through the visitors’ hall in columns from the front of the palace. The squawks of strange, colorful birds added to the confusion. Trynne was anxious to be gone.

“Have your king’s spies had any success in locating your father?” Sunilik asked her as they marched through the palace.

“None at all,” Trynne answered worriedly. It brought back a memory she would as soon forget. It was she who had found her father’s severed hand in the grove in the woods outside of Ploemeur.

It had still been wearing the invisible ring that had marked him as the protector of Brythonica, Trynne’s mother’s duchy. That ring now graced the hand of Captain Staeli, whom her father had chosen as the new protector before his disappearance. The captain was also the man Trynne had put in charge of training the Oath Maidens in Averanche.

Despite the murmurs about his strange disappearance, the world believed Owen Kiskaddon had been abducted at the Battle of Guilme. Only Trynne and a few others knew the truth, that someone had summoned him to the grove by magic and then violently attacked him. The Fountain-blessed hunter they had brought to the grove to track him had found no trail.

“It is a shame, truly. Thank you for coming to see my daughter to safety. I owe Kingfountain a debt I cannot easily repay.” He added in a melancholy tone, “I will miss this oasis,” gazing back at the great hall of the palace. “It has been in my family for several generations. But what the Fountain gives us, it can then take away.”

Samrao, who had preceded them out the door, came rushing back to them, his eyes wide with panic, his chin quivering with fear. “Master!” he choked out. “He’s here!”

They all stopped in their tracks. Samrao pointed, his arm trembling violently, to the front door. “He’s at the fountain!”

“Who? Gahalatine?” the king demanded.

Samrao nodded in abject terror.

Trynne felt Fountain magic surge through her. Someone had uttered “ekluo,” the word of power that disarmed other magics. Distance limited the word’s power, but she felt she was near the epicenter of its scope. The glowing stones in the palace dimmed, and shrieks of terror began to fill the air.

Trynne watched as the main doors of the palace were wrenched open. Her heart was beating violently in her chest, but the magic of the word of power had bypassed her. One of her own gifts from the Fountain, one that her father shared, made it impossible for other magics to affect her or those who stood near her.

“I need a veil,” Trynne whispered to Sunilik. Large beads of sweat had popped up on his furrowed brow. He made a quick gesture to Sureya, who removed her own veil and hastily covered Trynne with it. Though Trynne could sense the invisible ley line just beyond the door, running east to west, she was not close enough to invoke its power to take them away. It was too late to get any closer.

Gahalatine entered the palace.

Sureya cowered behind Trynne as the Overking of Chandigarl strode into the hall. Trynne hadn’t expected to encounter him on this visit, and it made her knees tremble with fear. She recognized his size and bearing, having witnessed his meeting with King Drew after the disastrous Battle of Guilme. He was not wearing battle armor this time, but a fancy knee-length tunic that was more suitable for Chandleer than her own garb. The collar was open, revealing the three leather straps around his neck. Just as she remembered, one was strung with a claw or fang, another with a circular metal device, and the last with a ring. Gahalatine was nicked with scars from a multitude of battles, and his dark hair looked almost like quills. His beard was trimmed close. He was remarkably handsome.

There was a huge, cavernous supply of Fountain magic inside him that radiated from him with intensity. He was flanked by a Wizr, not Rucrius—the Wizr who had visited King Drew’s council in Kingfountain and almost drowned the city by diverting the river—but another man with a sallow face and a pointed beard and darkened pockmarks across his cheekbones.