Free The Queen's Poisoner (The Kingfountain Series Book 1) by Jeff Wheeler Page B

they’d fled. They approached cautiously, heads bobbing, and then the braver ones began to peck at the crumbs. Once they did, the others deemed it safe enough and soon the entire area was thick with fowl again.
    The fat man had scraggly brown whiskers along his jowls. His hair was thick and wavy, cropped close to his ears, and he had a sad smile, as if he were bored beyond his wits and tormenting the birds was his only way of entertaining himself.
    “They keep coming back,” the fat man said with a tired sigh. He had not looked at Owen, but his voice was pitched just enough to reach the boy’s ears. He had the accent of a foreigner, but his voice was pleasant and he spoke the tongue of the kingdom well. “I can frighten them off a hundred times a day, but they keep coming back for crumbs.” He sighed, resting his bread-throwing hand on his paunch. “They cannot resist their need to eat. And I suppose neither can I. It’s a sad truth. If I were not so lazy, I would walk over to the muffin vendor and get a tasty morsel. Those would provide tantalizing crumbs indeed! But when you haul around this much baggage, lad, even a little walk is a burden.”
    Owen stared at the man’s mouth as he talked, watching the way he formed his words. He had a gentle, coaxing voice. Then he glanced at Owen and smiled in a friendly way.
    “Here to make a wish, lad?” he asked.
    Owen blinked, realizing he was formally being addressed. He nodded sheepishly.
    The man pitched his voice lower. “They say that side of the pool brings better luck.” He pointed to the other side of the reflecting pool from where he sat. “But if you really want a wish granted, you must toss a crown into the wisdom fountain inside. The statue of the woman with the spear is the true Lady of the Fountain. She’ll grant your wish. If you have a whole crown.”
    “I don’t have a crown,” Owen said.
    The man pursed his lips. “Well . . . that can’t be. A lad with such a noble look . . . I thought you’d have a whole bag of crowns. ’Tis a pity. But if your wish is important, that’s where you must make it. Here, I’ll lend you a crown.” He dug through another pouch, humming a little to himself, and pulled out a fat crown. He put it under his thumb and flicked it, sending the coin spinning in the air toward Owen, who caught it without dropping it.
    “Well done, lad, well done!” the fat man said.
    Owen stared at the crown and saw it was not from Ceredigion. A different language was scrawled on it and it looked nothing like the coins from his realm. He rubbed his fingers over the letters and spelling he couldn’t decipher.
    “Can you read it?” the fat man asked, chuckling.
    Owen shook his head, turning the coin over in his hand.
    “Not many from these parts can. That is called a florin. It’s about the same weight as a crown. I’m Genevese—the lake kingdom. Do you know where that is, lad?”
    Owen stared at the man. He had never met a foreigner before. “I’ve seen maps,” he said shyly.
    The man nodded. “Maps. You looked like a smart one. I bet you can read and know your numbers too.”
    Owen looked at him in surprise.
    “I knew it!” the man said, chuckling and clapping his hands. The birds pecking near his feet were getting angry that he hadn’t put any crumbs down in a while. “Well, there is your crown, lad. Go make your wish and run along to your mother.”
    “Thank you,” Owen said, surprised that he wasn’t too shy to speak. The man had a way about him that both frightened Owen and intrigued him. He was not like other adults.
    “Name is Mancini,” the fat man said with a nod.
    “Thank you, Mancini,” Owen said.
    “Someone in your family is sick? Is that why you’re making a wish—what was your name again?”
    “Owen,” the boy replied, only then realizing he should not have said it. He blinked with surprise.
    “Well met, Owen,” Mancini said. “Go make your wish. I think I might fetch that muffin after