The Thief's Daughter (Kingfountain #2)

Lord Roux looked at her and then at Owen. There was something in his eyes. Something he was not saying. Something he wouldn’t say. “By your leave then,” he said gruffly. And with that, he was gone.

Owen wondered what sort of weaknesses this man had. But he dared not use his Fountain magic in such an open place. Not only would it reveal himself to Roux, it would drain him again, and he could not risk that. Owen suspected gratitude wasn’t the only motivation behind Brythonica’s support of Ceredigion.

There was another part of the mission that was unfinished however. Just as Chatriyon was using a poisoner to overthrow Severn in preparation for Eyric’s arrival, so was Severn intending to do the same thing with his enemy. He felt his mouth go dry. It was clear to him that Eyric had to be removed from the Wizr board, but he did not want to kill him. Besides, Severn had given him reason to believe he would not want his true nephew dead. If they were able to abduct Eyric and bring him back to Ceredigion, the balance of power would shift. Owen did not believe they could persuade him to come willingly.

And then a thought came to Owen’s mind, a flash of insight. A strategy.

“My lady,” Owen said to Evie in a low voice. “I have an idea.”

“I’m anxious to hear it,” she replied.

Owen saw the pieces coming together in his mind. The order of events that needed to happen. The way the tiles needed to stack in order for them to fall as he planned. “I would like you to ask Iago for permission to see Eyric Argentine.”

“What for?” Evie asked, looking startled.

“To test his claims. Tell him you were given facts and details about his childhood. You would like to visit him tomorrow. I think he’ll grant that request if he sends an escort with you.”

“And what will you do?” Evie asked.

He smiled. “Etayne and I must get to him first.”




Owen paced nervously, wishing Clark were still around. He did not like leaving Evie unprotected. She and Justine were walking the grounds, waiting for Iago to return from his hawking trip. Owen and Etayne were together in Evie’s room, where they were working on their side of the plan.

He heard the rustle of fabric from behind the changing screen as he continued to pace the room. The swirling events around him were like tide pools threatening to knock him off his feet with another wave. He was eager to be done with the role of imposter, eager to resume his identity and take action. Chatriyon was using Iago to use Eyric to topple Ceredigion’s throne. But Chatriyon’s goal was to claim the throne for himself through marriage to Elyse. Owen saw the pieces aligning on the board. Iago was vain and proud, but he did not see the machinations happening in the background. Just as Owen realized there were some pieces on the board that he was not seeing.

“I’m almost finished,” Etayne said. A few moments later, she emerged from the changing screen wearing one of Evie’s gowns and a set of her jewelry. For an instant, seeing her wearing Evie’s clothes made his heart quicken with desire. Oblivious to his gawking, she made her way to the small dresser topped with a mirror. Next to the dresser was a trunk—one of Etayne’s. The King’s Poisoner opened the trunk and began to rummage through it until she found what she needed, a dark brown wig. She had already removed the one she wore regularly, the long blond one, and she replaced it with the dark one. Looking at herself in the mirror, Etayne began to apply powders and stubs of charcoal to her face. Owen watched with growing fascination as she dabbed color to her lips and cheeks, transforming before his eyes. He could feel the ripples of the Fountain draw into the girl, increasing in intensity as she became lost in the moment. Etayne’s movements became more dreamlike as she stared at herself, applying little dots to mimic the blemishes and blots that were on Evie’s skin. After a time, she seemed to be acting unconsciously, and Owen could sense her losing herself in the act of disguise. It was the same feeling Owen had while stacking his tiles. It was fascinating and—honestly—more than a bit alluring to watch her transform. He forced the thoughts from his mind, trying to stay focused on their upcoming mission together.

She finished the last bit of color and then began mimicking Evie’s expressions. Her eyes became animated and her hands began their almost-flapping gestures of excitement. “I love what you’ve done with your hair, Justine,” Etayne said, her voice sounding hauntingly like Evie’s, her tone and inflection matching. “I think mine is too drab. I wish I had a spot of white, right here, like Owen’s. But alas, we cannot all have such dashing good looks.” She grinned mischievously, looking at Owen in the mirror. He’d been staring too much, and she’d caught him at it.

“I do recognize you,” Owen stammered with an approving nod. “But at a distance, I’d be fooled. You’re taller than Evie, but I don’t think anyone would notice.”

“I made a few other adjustments,” Etayne said with a smirk. “I’ve done what I can.”

Owen shook his head. “No, you haven’t. You haven’t done it all. Now, I want you to try and summon Fountain magic. Here, in this room. I want you to make me believe that I’m seeing Evie. Like you did with Ankarette’s image from my mind. I want to know if I can see through it if I try.”

Excitement churned through Owen’s body. There were so many possibilities, so many ways that Etayne’s power could be used, and he wanted to know how deep her magic could go. She could be a formidable ally if she learned to harness her powers.

Straightening her shoulders, Etayne stared at herself in the mirror. “How do I summon the magic?”

“You did it before,” Owen said.

“Yes, but it’s not like a pump handle. Last time I was responding to you. You started it.”

Owen nodded. “After Ankarette was gone, the king became my tutor in the magic. He sometimes needs to touch someone to get his magic flowing. That’s not the way it is for me, but I learned this from him. Here, stand in front of me.”

She obeyed. He blinked a few times, trying not to be distracted by her disguise.

“This is an exercise the king taught me. Hold your arm out like this. Not stiffly. Good. Now spread out your fingers. Close your eyes and imagine . . . imagine that you have a river inside of you, yearning to come out. The waters are going to come out of your fingertips.”

“Do I touch you?” she asked, wrinkling her brow. His skin prickled in anticipation.

“No! Just . . . stand there, as you are. Sometimes it helps to close your eyes. Imagine the flow of water inside you. Release it, feel it flowing from your chest, down your arm, and out through your fingers. I’m not going to summon mine yet. I want you to instigate it this time.”

He felt sweat starting to itch along his scalp from being so near her. He subdued his emotions, trying to maintain his composure. He was loyal to Evie. But this was a part of himself he would never be able to share with her. Not like this.

“All right,” Etayne said. She closed her eyes, and he immediately felt the magic coursing through her.

“Can you feel it?”