“Summon all the people,” she said. “We must search for survivors. We must bring them into our homes.” She put her hand on his shoulder. “All of us.”

“But what about the water?” Thierry replied. “It will take days for it to subside!”

She remembered how Rucrius had overturned the river outside Kingfountain. How he had used his staff to destroy the ancient Wizr set. Her mother had summoned the excess water into the sanctuary of Our Lady.

Trynne shook her head. “No, it will not. Mother taught me how to calm the sea.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN Wreckage

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Wreckage

The rising sun revealed the full extent of the devastating wreckage. Trynne was exhausted from the all-night labor. Not only had she pushed her body to the limits of its endurance, she had used nearly all her reserves of Fountain magic to drain the floodwaters from the city. There were carrion birds circling overhead, as well as flocks of screeching gulls. So many had perished in the night. But even more had survived.

She walked along the beach of sea glass, now strewn with crates, debris, and broken planks of teak wood from the treasure ships. It would take weeks to clean up the mess. The horizon was full of ships, the ships of Brythonica, which were still rescuing survivors who had fallen into the water.

The receding tide had made the rescue effort easier. Dinghies ferried the survivors to the shore, where they were wrapped up in blankets, fed soup and berries provided by Trynne’s generous people, and taken to shelters to rest. The able-bodied soldiers of Gahalatine’s army had immediately joined in the rescue efforts, working side by side with Trynne’s knights to save as many as possible.

Trynne had hidden Rucrius’s staff in the waters of a palace fountain. It radiated so much magic that she couldn’t hide it anywhere else without it being discovered, and she didn’t want it to be stolen. Horrified though she was by its magic, it had been the means of saving Ploemeur. She rubbed her weary arms as she trudged through the sand and debris. The foodstuffs that had been stored aboard the vessels were likely all ruined, but they were salvaging whatever they could. They would need extra stores to help feed everyone.

Thierry marched up to her, winded from a long walk. His sleeve was torn and his face was haggard. He’d been helping all night as well.

“My lady,” he said with a wheeze. “Come quickly. We found him.”

“Who?” she asked in concern.

“The Wizr who attacked you,” he answered. “He was among the survivors.”

Trynne looked at him in confusion. “He didn’t return to Chandigarl?”