“They’re in my chamber. Now hurry!”

Her mother’s aging battle captain, Marshal Soeur, ordered the guard to assemble at the door and shut it. He drew his heavy greatsword while they rushed to obey, but the doors were flung back when they tried to close them.

The noise of metal scraping against stone filtered in from the hall, the grinding shriek of it stinging their ears. Four of the soldiers at the door skidded into pillars, as if slung by giants. None of them got up. Trynne felt a building tide of Fountain magic from beyond the corridor. More soldiers ran forward to help their fallen comrades. Their boots thumped against the tile floor, and Trynne watched in shock as all of them suddenly flew sideways into the nearest wall, brushed aside by invisible arms.

Three men strode down the corridor toward the audience hall. All three were Wizrs, and Trynne recognized the first among them. It was the Wizr Rucrius, who had almost destroyed Kingfountain by diverting its mighty river.

A tall man with very long pale hair and dark eyebrows, he wore an elegantly braided tunic that went down to his knees. An equally extravagant sword was belted to his waist. As he walked toward her, she noticed that the staff he clutched had a nick in it from where her father had attacked him with his sword. Rucrius looked confident and smug as he passed the fallen soldiers. One of the men tried to reach out and intercede, but he lacked the strength to rise.

As he approached, Trynne noticed that his eyes were glowing like a cat’s, reflecting the light of the palace’s lamps and torches. She shifted her gaze to the other Wizrs, whom she did not recognize. One had a black beard streaked with gray and a bald head. He had a menacing look. The third Wizr was younger, in his thirties perhaps. Clean-shaven like Rucrius, he wore very costly apparel with medallions and bracelets and a turban-like hat sewn with pearls.

Benjamin had rushed out the side door toward her chambers and had not yet returned. Another group of soldiers, including the aging marshal, yelled in challenge and rushed at the Wizrs.

Rucrius gave them a look of disdain as he began to whirl his staff. When it struck the first soldier, the man flipped over and struck the tile floor hard. Rucrius was a skilled warrior, and he used his weapon to clear away anyone who dared engage him. The other two Wizrs put their fingertips together and began muttering words of power.

Trynne sensed the ley lines knotting together and realized that they had come for her—they were trying to prevent her or anyone else who was Fountain-blessed from escaping.