The Thief's Daughter (Kingfountain #2)

“Yes,” she said, smiling.

“Well done. Now, I want you to use it. I want you to become Elysabeth Victoria Mortimer. Convince me.”

Etayne took a deep breath and let out a sigh. As she did so, Owen watched her transform before his eyes. She even looked smaller, shrinking slightly to match Evie’s stature. As Owen stared at her, he felt her magic come rushing into him, trying to persuade him that she was Evie. He wanted to believe it. Seeing her made his heart ache with longing. But he felt the flow of magic parting around him, making him immune to the deception. She looked like Evie. But he knew she wasn’t. His heart couldn’t be fooled.

“Open your eyes,” Owen said softly, relieved that her power was not strong enough to deceive him. It would have duped another Fountain-blessed, he was sure of it.

Etayne did so, and the magic wavered.

“Keep it going,” he insisted.

The weakness dissipated and the illusion was maintained. Owen took her shoulders and turned her around to face the mirror. To face the reflection of Evie.

“Bless me,” Etayne whispered reverently, her voice full of awe. “I can be anyone.”

“You clearly are Fountain-blessed,” Owen said in admiration. “Now, do you feel the edges of your magic? It’s like a big, vast bowl. Is it shrinking? Do you feel yourself growing weaker?”

She nodded, trancelike. “But I’m not tired yet. It is like . . . swimming. I could do this for a while, but not forever.”

“Good,” Owen said. “The last time, you only held the illusion for a moment.”

“I think it helps,” Etayne said thoughtfully, “that I put on her dress and her jewels. That I tried hard to look like her. I can feel a difference this time. I also know Lady Elysabeth better now, having spent time with her. I could speak in her voice. I could act like her.” She glanced at him in the mirror. “Did I convince you?”

Owen shook his head. “I can tell it’s not real. But that’s because I’m Fountain-blessed also. I can sense when others use the power. As you can.”

“Like when you used your power on me,” Etayne said slyly. “So what is your plan, Lord Owen?”

He stared at Etayne for a moment, feeling the final pieces click into place. “We’re going to visit Eyric. The two of us. We’re going there now.”





CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE


The Ardanays




The carriage jostled and rattled, making Owen queasy. He would have preferred riding horseback, which would have brought them to the Ardanays manor at a faster pace, but the carriage was part of his plan. It was a simple bow-curtained carriage, with drapes on the front and back sides, but those drapes were open so that passersby could see the stunningly beautiful Elysabeth Victoria Mortimer—who was actually Etayne, the King’s Poisoner. Owen sat in the rider’s box, close enough for them to speak. A servant with a whip rode on one of the lead horses and kept the pace over the lumbering hills. The land was thick with woods and forests, and the road was made of compacted earth with the occasional ruts.

Etayne was not using her Fountain magic yet, but her disguise was convincing enough at a distance. Riding alongside the carriage were two servants, also on horseback, whom Owen had bribed to accompany them as an escort and to handle the horses. He found himself staring longingly at their mounts. He chafed with impatience as they rode into the seclusion of the forests to one of the Earl of Huntley’s manors, where the recently wedded couple were spending their holiday.

Owen’s plan was simple, and it relied on the element of surprise. Word had undoubtedly been sent ahead that Evie wanted to visit the couple with the king’s household the next day. Imagine the staff’s surprise when a smaller entourage arrived a day early. Etayne would arrange for a private meeting with Lady Kathryn, giving Owen a chance to be alone with Eyric. Though he still did not believe Eyric would accept his overtures, Owen would attempt to persuade him to come willingly to Ceredigion. Meanwhile, Etayne would incapacitate Kathryn, take one of her dresses, and then emerge in her persona. Their hope was that she could succeed where Owen would likely fail. The carriage would take them to the docks, where they would stow Eyric aboard Evie’s ship.

If Owen was successful in convincing Eyric, then Kathryn would be given the opportunity to come with them.

It was a bold plan. It was deceitful. And there were several dozen things that could go wrong. The closer they came to the Ardanays, the more he worried about them.

“Do you remember what Lady Kathryn looks like?” Owen whispered over his shoulder to the passenger.

“Vaguely,” Etayne said. “I’ll need to study her in order to get a grasp on her face and mannerisms. How long do you think you can keep Eyric occupied?”

“Long enough, I hope,” Owen quipped.

The whip rider turned back. “There is the manor!” he shouted, pointing ahead with the whip handle.

The evergreen trees peeled away, opening to a lush green enclave surrounded by majestic trees and lawns. Instead of fences, there were large rough stones marking the path at intervals. As the carriage cleared the trees, Owen saw an imposing stone manor house set amidst the verdant splendor. The dirt road turned to the crunch of gravel as the carriage entered the drive, heading toward a large circular roundabout in front of the main door.

The manor was made of rectangular stone bricks, in differing shades of gray, giving it a patchwork look. The roofs were all sloped, and dozens of chimneys could be seen protruding from the roofline in various locations. The structure was only two stories high but very long, with an L-shaped wing jutting toward them on the western end. There were all sorts of vegetation clinging to the walls, including an untamed patch of ivy and wisteria vines. A turret with a weathervane rose prominently over the front path, which was bordered by large stone planter vases thick with gorse plants. The structure at the far western end of the manor was almost completely overgrown with ivy. Even the chimney was sheathed in green, but the windows had been cut around to provide a view. It was a charming, secluded place with lazy plumes of smoke coming up from some but not all of the chimneys.

As the carriage wheeled around the circle, coming to a stop on the side facing the front door, Owen gingerly jumped off the rider box seat and went around to open the carriage. He felt the trickle and churn of Etayne’s magic as she assumed her full disguise.

The front door of the manor opened, and a thin, graying steward strode forward. His hair was still flecked with black, as were his eyebrows, and he had a thin, sour nose above a worried frown. His eyes were dark in color, and very serious.

Owen reached up and took Etayne’s hand as she dismounted the carriage.