The Uncrowned King by Rowena Cory Daniells Read Free Book Online

weapon hilts striking the door, muffled by the thick wood.
    'We're trapped,' a voice whispered.
    'No.' Fyn rounded on the boy before the others could panic. 'Feldspar and I were chosen to serve the mystics master. We know the back way out of the inner sanctum.'
    The boys' desperate eyes fixed on Fyn.
    'But if they've taken the spiral stairs there is no way out of the abbey,' a skinny thirteen-year-old muttered.
    Fyn held up the abbot's keys. 'Yes, there is. We're going into Halcyon's Sacred Heart.'
    The boys gasped.
    'It's forbidden,' the skinny one protested.
    'Normally, but the abbot gave me the keys.' Fyn caught Feldspar's eye. 'He didn't want the sorbt stones falling into the hands of renegade Power-workers. Get the -'
    Older boys anticipated the order, hurrying to the orderly shelves of stacked sorbt stones.
    'Keep each pair together!' Feldspar shouted. 'If they're separated the active one will absorb all Affinity around it.'
    The boys froze. Feldspar caught Fyn's eye. Sorbt stones were tools, but like any powerful tool they could be used to kill.
    'You heard him. Take care,' Fyn prodded, then collected his thoughts. What else would they need? He didn't want to lose his way underneath the mountain. 'Bring all the candles you can find. I'll go ahead and unlock the passage.'
    'What about Halcyon's Sacred Flame?' Joff asked.
    Fyn glanced to the lamp which had been lit three hundred years ago when his ancestor, King Rolence the First, had gifted Mount Halcyon to the monks. It would be good to have a protected flame. 'Bring the lamp.' No one moved. 'Now!'
    They scrambled, some grabbing sorbt stone pairs, some gathering candles, and others taking icons from their niches and tucking them inside their robes. Joff lifted one of the smaller boys onto his shoulders so he could unhook the lamp.
    All the while, the enemy thundered on the door.
    Feldspar's eyes flicked repeatedly from the busy boys to the door.
    'I'll take the little ones now,' Fyn told him. 'Don't waste any time. They must have a renegade Power-worker with them. When he gets here we won't stand a chance.'
    Little hands tugged on Fyn's leggings. Worried faces watched his every move. Lenny sidled up close. Like Fyn, he had been Master Wintertide's servant. Fyn had consoled Lenny as best he could when the old master died. Now he squeezed the boy's shoulder.
    Feldspar glanced down to the little boys. 'Go, Fyn. We'll be right behind you.'
    Fyn nodded and headed to the far side of the sanctum where a hidden passage led to a maze of private chambers known only to the mystics. Taking a lit candle from its bracket, Fyn led the way through several passages. He heard the soft shuffle of bare feet behind him and the occasional whimper of fear, followed by muttered words of assurance from the older boys.
    As he recalled the route to the secret door to Halcyon's Sacred Heart, he decided it would probably be safe to use these lower passages. The abbey was huge and most of the Merofynians would be on the upper floors in the great public chambers, looting. The ones who had come down this low would be concentrating on getting into the sanctum to steal the sorbt stones.
    A small hand slid into Fyn's and he looked down to see Lenny.
    'I knew you'd save us,' Lenny whispered.
    Fyn licked his lips. 'We're not safe yet.' He'd failed the abbot. He must not fail these boys.

Chapter Four
     
    Fyn glanced behind him. All the little ones were with him and most of the bigger ones. Even as he watched, the last of the older acolytes spilled from the far door, milling in the corridor. Feldspar nodded, that was it. They were all out.
    Fyn held up his candle and signalled for silence. The soft whispering stopped. In the ensuing quiet, he could just hear the deep shouts of men and the smashing of furniture and glass echoing down from far above. It sounded so wrong in a place where the clatter of busy boys and the chanting of monks were normally the predominant sounds.
    'Follow me. Quickly now.' Fyn