The Silent Shield (Kingfountain #5)

Morwenna stepped outside of the fountain and her image shimmered as she disguised herself in courtly dress. Her hair was still black, but now it was done up into intricate ringlets that cascaded down from a series of headdresses. Her skin was darker, her eyes slanted, but Trynne could still tell it was Morwenna. The disguise could not shield that truth from Trynne’s magic.

“These are the ceremonial robes of a Shaliah,” Morwenna explained, gesturing to her pale silver gown and high girdle. “They are sacred healers in this society. I adopted the disguise because it allows me to wander wherever I wish. Come, we’re at the edge of the zenana. We cannot get there through the ley lines.”

Trynne adjusted the strap across her shoulder, feeling the bulk of the weapons in the lute case thump against the small of her back. She also stroked her arm, feeling the straps holding the Tay al-Ard beneath the garment, grateful for its reassuring presence.

The little shrine with the fountain sat amidst a park full of willowlike trees with deep green foliage and fragrant blossoms. The plants and flowers were unlike any she had seen in Kingfountain, and the enormity of the park was very striking. Everywhere she looked, there were people walking, exercising, and enjoying the beauty of the place. Some were even playing musical instruments. There was no debris anywhere along the grass-lined path. The grounds were immaculately kept, and extended almost as far as the eye could see.

Morwenna walked along a paved footpath that led toward a long wall of trees. Trynne had no idea what kind of trees they were, but the leaves were red and jagged and looked like fire. It was lovely beyond anything she’d seen before. Beyond them, Trynne could smell a lake and hear the ripples of the water lapping against the shore.

“The zenana is over there,” Morwenna said, pointing toward the enormous lake through the trees. “They’re still building a bridge to connect the island to the mainland, but that will take years. You can see the part they’ve completed over there.” She gestured to it, and Trynne saw the sweeping archways extending into the waters. It only went partway across, but the portions that had been completed were intricately carved.

“How do we get there?” Trynne asked, glancing backward to see if anyone was following them. The garden had dozens of people, but it was vast enough to feel empty.

“There is a harbor right there,” Morwenna said. “They have stone boats. That is the only way to cross. Men are not permitted to enter the boats without a scroll showing the royal seal. Women can come or go as they please, or so I’ve been told. Do you know the word of power for languages?”

“Yes,” Trynne answered.

“Good. I thought so.”

They agreed to wait until they crossed the waters of the lake, as some magics did not work over water.

“How can their boats be made of stone?” Trynne asked. “Don’t they sink?”

Morwenna smiled. “Not this kind. They are powered by Fountain magic. You will see them shortly, just past the trees. Follow me.”

They passed the row of fiery-leaved trees before reaching the calm, placid lake. It was like a huge mirror, and she felt it radiating magic like the grove in the woods in Brythonica. It was a hallowed place, a place of great power, and forbidding. The water ripples were small, for there was very little wind. An octagonal tower rose in the center of the lush, green island, and the multiple levels were bedecked with curving, slanted roofs. Each layer of the tower grew smaller as it went up, ending in a sharply sloped roof crowned with a steeple of gold. The columns supporting the roof were painted red and the windows were of colored glass. Farther down the hillside, there was a wall that encircled the entire island, level with the shore. There were a couple of small square stone huts with similarly shaped roofs perched atop the walls, and Trynne could see guards standing there. The same fiery-red trees lined the walls, each placed a measured distance from the others. The spacing and detail were impressive.

“That’s the zenana,” Morwenna said, pointing to a nearby dock. “See the boats? There is one always coming and one always going. See how they float on the water?”

Many passengers dressed in silks were getting into the boat from the dock, and if Trynne craned her neck, she could see another vessel skimming the surface of the lake from the island. The boats were more like barges, except longer, and they were indeed made of sculpted stone. The prows jutted up in a circular design, carved with images of waves and the crashing sea. Two layers of compartments were constructed atop the stone platforms, made of a series of arches, and the whole structure was topped with a triangular roof. The arches were open and the sturdy pillars provided support.

“Amazing,” Trynne whispered, shaking her head.

“They glide on the water like ducks,” Morwenna said. “You can feel the Fountain magic coming from this place.”

“Where is Gahalatine’s palace?” Trynne asked.

“You can see it better from the lake,” Morwenna said. “If we hurry, we can get on that one before it leaves. There are no rowers. It is powered by magic. If we go to the upper level, you’ll have a perfect view.”

The two young women hurried their steps until they reached the pier. The sun was just starting to appear on the horizon. It was dawn, not nightfall. It felt a little strange, but it was also thrilling.

Only women were at the dock, and no one gave her or Morwenna a second look or even asked them a question as they boarded the vessel. All of the guards protecting it, Trynne realized, were women too. They had an array of weapons, including broadswords, staffs, and long-shafted spears. Some of the women making their way to the barge looked frightened. Some looked eager. Others were nervous.

Trynne remembered that it was a sanctuary for women, that Gahalatine offered his protection to any women who sought refuge. How difficult would it be to find Lady Evie amidst so many?

So far, Morwenna had proven herself to be a reliable guide. There was nothing in her manner to suggest there was anything untoward about her motives. She boarded the barge ahead of Trynne and took the narrow steps to the upper deck. Trynne was fascinated by the paintwork on the stone columns. From a distance it had seemed like ivy vines, but she realized on closer inspection that the leaves were all painted. There were benches in the interior of the barge and less than half were filled. The warrior protectors walked among the girls, gazing beneath the benches to be sure no one was hiding there.