Morwenna was involved in the plot. Trynne was certain of it. The Wizrs had chosen Severn’s daughter to be Gahalatine’s queen. Was she wittingly part of it, or a pawn in the scheme?

At that point, it didn’t matter. Trynne had to get the king away from the palace. She was the only one who could. Gazing at the peak of the tower, she saw something crackling with power. A staff had been bound to the steeple, strapped with leather. It was the source of the magic.

“Anoichto ekluo!” Trynne commanded, gazing up at the staff bound to the tower spike. With her words, she unmade the fastenings of the straps and the staff fell from the spike, hurtling and spinning as it fell from the heights and cracked to pieces on the cobbles far below.

The fog of magic in the air vanished.

Save the king.

Her heart quailed with dread when she heard the whisper from the Fountain. She was still dizzy from using the Tay al-Ard, but she rushed back into the chamber. Lady Evie’s face was ashen with concern, but she looked determined.

“We’ve lost the palace,” Lady Evie murmured darkly. “Haven’t we?”

Trynne nodded. “Their game does not end until they have the crown,” Trynne said. “I need to take the king to shelter. The people will rally to fight for him. I think Dundrennan would be the strongest defense.”

“It will,” Lady Evie agreed passionately. “It is the strongest castle we have. I know it is. The ships cannot reach it, and the soldiers there will be loyal to the king. More so than to my own son.”

Trynne nodded. “I will take us all there. Come!” She locked hands with Lady Evie and quickly envisioned the king’s private chamber. They vanished, wrenched away by the magic.

The room was dark save for the burning embers still glowing from the brazier. Trynne stumbled, her legs turning to jelly from having used the magic so many times in such a short while. She was nauseated and felt like vomiting, but she uttered the word of power to restore her strength, feeling the power sip from her magic stores.

“Who’s there?”

It was Drew’s voice. He stood at the side of the bed, the sword Firebos in hand. The blade was glowing, illuminating his face, his tousled hair. He looked haggard and tired.

Trynne reached out with her magic and sensed Rucrius coming down the hall.

“Trynne,” she answered hurriedly. “I’m here with Lady Evie. The castle is overrun, and I must take you to safety. Where’s Genny?”

Drew rubbed his eyes, still clenching the blade. “Something made everyone fall asleep. I couldn’t get up. I couldn’t move until just a few moments ago.”

“Where is Genny?” Trynne repeated more urgently. “Where’s the baby?”