“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.