Trynne felt the throb of worry and fear. She had no weapon, and the Tay al-Ard, which had failed her, had been wrenched from her hand. Rucrius had soldiers with him and she had no doubt they were here to murder her king. When the king tried to come before her, she held out her arm, barring him. Her magic reached out, looking for vulnerabilities in their enemies, searching for a way they could escape.

“You cannot take the crown,” Trynne said defiantly to Rucrius. “It must be earned.”

“You have been meddlesome long enough,” the Wizr snapped. “Take the girl, she has useful information. Slay the king.”

Trynne’s magic saw that there were only three ways out of the chamber: through the door that Rucrius was blocking with his men, through the Espion tunnel that Evie had just used to flee, and another, which Rucrius would never suspect. There was a garderobe closet behind where she and the king stood, connected to the cesspit at the base of the castle. Her magic sensed that the shaft was wide enough for a single person. No ley lines passed through the room.

She needed to buy them some time. “My lord,” she said over her shoulder. “Through the privy. Now! Aspis!”

She invoked the word of power to create a shield around her and the king, backing toward the privy doors as the warriors rushed forward. As soon as they reached the boundary of her shield, the magic flung them backward violently. She only had a moment or two, though—Rucrius could rip her shield apart. The king looked at her in confusion and then realized what she meant. A look of disgust twisted on his face as he turned and flung open the door to the garderobe.

She felt Rucrius’s power throb against hers, but she maintained her hold on the shield.

“Quickly, my lord!” Trynne panted.

King Drew flung the wooden seat up and gazed down the black shaft.

“Into the cistern!” Trynne said, invoking her father’s words.

King Drew’s face twisted with revulsion, but he jumped down the shaft, holding his sword in one hand and the hollow crown in the other.

“Stop her!” Rucrius roared in fury.

Her shield unraveled. One of the soldiers rushed her, trying to club her on the head with the pommel of his sword. She caught his wrist, kicked him in the knee and then the groin, and wrestled the blade from him by flipping him onto his back. Spinning the blade around her back, she struck one of the knights in the chest as he charged at her.

There was no time to spare. Still holding the sword, Trynne rushed to the garderobe and jumped in after the king.

The black stone walls of the shaft rushed past her, and it felt like traveling over the ley lines until she hit a curve in the stone. She had to scrape her front until she began free-falling again.