He stood by the table, his arms folded guardedly. They were so much bigger now. She could see the scars on his hands, along with one on his cheekbone. She wanted to hold him, to comfort him, to soothe the anger she saw churning inside him. There was so much she wished for, so much she could not have.

Where once he had been glib and spontaneous, now he seemed to be struggling for words. Gazing down at the mess of correspondence, he sighed, favoring her with a sidelong look. His mouth twitched, reminding her of her old friend, the one who had never tired of teasing her. But the look was swept away like a cloud on the wind. “It was my own fault,” he said in a formal, self-deprecating tone. “I acted against my better judgment when I approached you that day. You were so kind as to point that out to me.” Again, the formality of his speech hurt her. “So, must I wait for this news until I get to Kingfountain? Has it to do with the Gauntlet? Is the king canceling it?”

“Not at all,” she said, shaking her head. Her legs felt locked in place, so she took a hesitant step closer to him. She pressed her thumb in circles across her palm, fidgeting slightly. She knew that Fallon was preparing for the Gauntlet of Kingfountain. He had made no secret of his wish to take her father’s seat at the Ring Table, the one known as the Siege Perilous. It was the seat of the king’s champion. Gahalatine had given Drew one year to choose a replacement for Owen if he could not be found. The winner of the Gauntlet would win that title.

What Fallon did not realize was the Fountain had whispered to Trynne that she must sit in the chair.

He was looking at her pointedly now, his gaze penetrating. He had the clearest gray-green eyes she had ever seen. Memories of their childhood together buffeted her.

“The Fountain has bid my mother to depart Ceredigion,” she said at last. The anguish of the feeling was still fresh and raw. “She will be leaving imminently to seek the Deep Fathoms at sea.”

His eyes widened with disbelief, and she took some small satisfaction in having shocked him. She took advantage of his stunned silence to continue. “She saw this in a vision. Drew and Genny are just as surprised as you are. As we all are. The king has summoned his council to the Ring Table to tell them. Morwenna is fetching your parents. She . . . suggested that I come for you.”

“Trynne,” he breathed, a look of pain and anguish on his face. “How can this be? How can the Fountain even . . . ?” He stopped short of speaking blasphemy. “You must be devastated. Both your parents?”