The Thief's Daughter (The Kingfountain Series Book 2) by Jeff Wheeler

Author:Jeff Wheeler [Wheeler, Jeff]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
ISBN: 9781503935006
Published: 2016-05-30T22:00:00+00:00

When Owen awoke, he had no idea how much time had passed.

He heard the sound of a snapping hearth fire. But it was the sound of a window opening that had awakened him. A sigh of air came in from the outside, bringing with it the distant rumble of the waterfall. One of the hinges on the window creaked gently, ever so gently. The sound made him worry.

Owen’s eyes were as heavy as iron doors. He tried to shove them open, but all he could see was a slender slit of light. The room was dark, so it was well after nightfall. How long had he slept? It was the sickroom. He recognized the smell of it instantly.

A boot scuff.

Owen tried to turn his head, but it felt as heavy as an anvil. He managed to move only a few degrees. He was lying on a bed covered in thin sheets and sweating heavily. His chain hauberk had been removed. He could see it hanging over a chair next to the bed, glinting in the dim light. There was a blot of shadow by the window, darker than the rest of the room. That shadow was moving.

A frantic sense of panic bubbled up inside of Owen. He felt completely bereft of Fountain magic. His cup was empty, not a single drop remaining. He had never experienced that sensation before, for he had never let his cup run low since discovering he was Fountain-blessed. Now there was not even a whisper of magic. It felt about as wrong and strange as if his arm had been amputated.

Where was Evie? Where were Clark and Etayne? In the bed next to his, he saw Justine’s black hair and her chest slowly rising and falling in deep slumber. There was no more anguished breathing. It was the clear, light sound of someone in deep sleep.

Memories came trickling back into his mind. Justine had died earlier, but he had saved her. Was it that morning? Or had more than a day gone by? There was no way he could tell except his stomach felt as empty as his store of Fountain magic.

The shadow slowly moved away from the now-open window and approached Owen’s bed. He heard another soft scuff of boots on the floor, and the shadow stilled. Other memories came rushing back to Owen, filling him with panic. Bothwell had come and revealed their prime suspect was dead.

Which meant the person who’d poisoned the food was still at large.

And, as likely as not, Owen realized with further alarm, the poisoner was now sneaking up to finish his botched assignment.

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