“It doesn’t help that I’m so small,” Trynne muttered darkly. “I worry about King Sunilik. Gahalatine will likely question him at the Forbidden Court. Without me there to protect him, the king will no longer be immune to his powers. Gahalatine may learn that I was there.”

Genevieve paled. “I hadn’t thought of that. It also seems that his people can travel outside of the ley lines. That cylinder you mentioned . . . what sort of device is it, I wonder? There’s so much we don’t know. I had assumed Gahalatine might be with his fleet.”

“Has it been spotted since it set sail earlier this summer?” Trynne asked.

Genevieve shook her head. “None of the Espion hidden in the ports along the coast have seen it. But Lord Amrein has learned that fleet doesn’t need a port. It can go for months without a harbor. What baffles me is how Gahalatine has accumulated so many vessels and conquered so much in so short a time! He’s barely older than me, and look at what he’s done! Ambition is certainly one of his gifts from the Fountain.”

Trynne nodded, rubbing her palms along the stone lip of the railing. “Do you think he will attack Kingfountain first?”

Genevieve touched her shoulder. “Would that I knew,” she answered with a sigh. “Your mother’s visions are our only hope for a warning. I’m worried about her,” she added, her voice dipping to a lower pitch. “Her grief is so consuming.”

Trynne wanted to refute her, but it was true, and there was no sense in hiding it. “She’s withdrawn deeper into herself. Morwenna has offered her some calming drafts to try and help her, but she refuses to be comforted by an elixir. When she’s not here or training Morwenna, she walks at her favorite beach in Ploemeur. She’ll be there for hours sometimes.” Trynne’s heart pinched with the pain of her own grief. Her father’s loss had struck a terrible blow to the entire Kiskaddon family.

“Drew would like to see her as soon as possible,” Genny said. “But please . . . don’t hurry her if she’s not well. We will abide without her for as long as we can.”

“Very well, my lady,” Trynne said, giving her another hug.

Genny kissed her cheek, then gripped her by the shoulders. “You haven’t asked after Fallon in a while.”

Fallon was Genny’s younger brother. She reminded Trynne of him a little in the way she smiled. Sometimes it was comforting; sometimes it was excruciating.

“No, I have not,” Trynne replied.

“He still cares for you,” Genny said.

“It would probably be for the best if he didn’t,” Trynne said. Her own heart had been dashed to pieces in their last confrontation.