After examining her costume in the mirror, she turned the device in her hand. There were no buttons or symbols on it. Her whole plan hinged on it working. When the Wizrs had used it in her presence, none of them had uttered a word of power aloud. Perhaps the device was sentient and could know her thoughts?

She fixed her thoughts on the queen’s private chamber, imagining it in as much detail as she could muster. Before she could think the word of power that allowed her to travel across the ley lines, there was a jolt, followed by a searing spasm of movement, and then an instant of nausea and dizziness. She had just finished blinking when she realized it had worked. She was in the queen’s private chamber. The rod tingled in her hand, and she felt the ebbing of Fountain magic. Not from her stores, though. The journey had taken nothing from her at all.

Smiling in triumph, she strapped the device to her forearm, covering it with the sleeve of Reya’s loose garment. Everything she had prepared for the journey had come with her. There was no one else inside the chamber.

When she left Genevieve’s room, she startled the guards who had been standing at attention. She smiled at them, nodded politely, and then started walking down the corridor toward her intended goal. She passed servants, who gave her strange looks, and found her way to the iron door that was always locked. Standing at the door, she gripped the handle.

“Ephatha,” Trynne uttered, and the lock twisted open on its own.

She was headed up to the poisoner’s tower.

CHAPTER NINETEEN The Forbidden Court

CHAPTER NINETEEN

The Forbidden Court

Trynne’s heart was full of trepidation and excitement as she mounted the steps to Morwenna’s tower. She reached out with her magic, just a little trickle to avoid any dangers or traps that might block the way. The tower well was dark, but there were arrow slits in the wall that served as little beacons of light. Her heart beat wildly, both from the climb and from nervousness. In her mind, she pictured her father as a young boy, following Ankarette Tryneowy up the cold steps.

Her breath was coming quickly by the time she reached the top of the winding staircase. She sensed the presence of magic coming from the room and slowed her steps. Cautiously, she knocked at the door—a sound that echoed all the way down the tower shaft. Her insides twisted with concern as she waited.

When no one answered, she reached out and tried the handle. It was locked. The word of power released the mechanism and the handle turned without Trynne touching it. Taking a breath and holding it, she pulled the door open, her senses taut, ready for action.