Chapter 27
he good news is, there are no spectators at this particular trial. But that’s where the good news ends.T Jonas’s prediction was very wrong. Rather than the forest, we’re at the beach, standing on the edge of a dune with sparse grasses growing in dense tufts over the undulating landscape. The waves crash against the shore in the distance, and further out, whitecaps rise ten feet into the air above the churning grey sea.
But it barely warrants a second glance because we’re not swimming today. Or ever going in the water.
No, our trial has to do with what’s standing on the stretch of sand in
front of the shoreline. ‘Are those…?’ I trail off, gaping. ‘Jötnar,’ Benny answers, as he rubs at the back of his neck. ‘Those are jötnar.’ Of course, I’ve heard of jötnar before. The thirty-foot-tall giants fill the storybooks my parents would read to me as a child. They’re said to roam the frozen islands beyond the Torailian territory, eating everything in their path, from whole cattle and humans to boulders and icebergs. But I never believed they were real. And Goddess bless, some of them are definitely over thirty feet. My mind can hardly accept that they’re real. Perhaps they’re not. Maybe they’re nothing more than an illusion, like the type Seiren creates … but something tells me that isn’t the case . ‘Did you know jötunns were real?’ Llinos’s words echo my own thoughts.
‘Jötnar,’ Jonas corrects. ‘Jötunn is only used for the singular. It’s like you’re asking, “Did you know mouses are real”, instead of “mice”.’ ‘Honestly?’ My jaw drops slightly. ‘You think now is the best time for a grammar lesson?’ This time Jonas has the sense to stay quiet.
As we stand there in collective awe, several questions roll through my head. First, where did the priestesses get them and how did they wrangle them onto the mainland? And more importantly, how are we going to survive this?
It’s clear from the pained expressions, gritted jaws, and bulging eyes of the gargantuan jötnar that they are bound by some kind of magic. Held in place, I’m guessing, until the Rettlings have been told exactly what we need to do. Despite their visible pain, not a sound rolls from their drool-covered lips. Is that what Loch was talking about? Are the jötnar what he couldn’t hear?
I swallow the lump sticking in my throat and squeeze Jonas’s hand.
He squeezes back. ‘Remember what I said,’ he whispers.
People have already begun to cluster together with their allies, creating coloured pools of shell-shocked Rettlings. There’s something almost prophetic about the colours, the way the Wrohelm black mirrors the grey clouds above us, while the Galreckians in their emerald green remind me of the tufts of sea grass that break through the dunes. But it’s the red my eyes linger on the most. With both the knights and Rowell Rettlings in different shades of the colour red, I can’t help but wonder if it’s a sign that by the time this trial is over, the sand will be soaked in blood.
As my group stands wide-eyed with panic, it’s almost a relief to see that even the knights look shocked. No preferential treatment there, then. That’s something. I scrutinise the other contestants and don’t find a single face that
looks anything but terrified.
Until I spot him.
I’m sure, being the prince and commander of the army, he could have his choice of allies, and yet the way he stands apart from the other Rettlings implies he’s decided against making any. Rather than fear, a crinkle of mild confusion is all that clouds Kyor’s expression as he stares at the creatures one by one. Then, without explanation, he shifts his attention up to the sky, kicks off his shoes, and digs his toes into the earth. It’s the oddest battle preparation I’ve seen.
‘Fingers crossed one of them’ll crush that lying, vindictive bastard.’ I turn to my side to see Estel standing there, her jaw locked. From the way her eyes are trained on the prince, there’s no doubt as to who she’s talking about. Clearly there’s something in the rumour I heard about Kyor and her sister. ‘It’s her,’ Llinos murmurs as she stiffens beside me, drawing my attention away from Estel.
The High Priestess Mila strides across the sand, her robe billowing in the salt-filled breeze as her amethyst stone reflects the midday sun. As she stops directly in front of three of the jötnar, I release Jonas’s hand and feel for the dagger at my side. I’m not sure what good a blade like this will do against a giant, but daggers are all I have. ‘Rettlings, welcome to your first trial.’ Mila’s voice booms around us and several of the jötnar snarl at the sound, their lips curling back from their sharp, pointed, yellow teeth.
Somewhere across the way, I hear a whimper from one of the other Rettlings, and I can’t say I blame them. ‘This trial will be timed.’ She waves her hand and a platform, complete with a priestess and a ten-foot hourglass sand timer, appears to the left of us. A simple cloaking spell, I assume, and though it looks good, I can’t help but wonder if Etta really asked for such dramatics at the first honouring of her name. ‘Your task is straightforward. Those of you who survive the next thirty minutes will live to see another day.’ Thirty minutes. One thousand and eight hundred seconds. That’s all I have to stay alive for. Easy. ‘The time will begin when each of you sets foot on the sand,’ she continues. ‘But there is another caveat. Any of you who bring down a jötunn permanently will immediately be removed from the trial and excused from the second trial as a reward.’ Gasps, mutters, and murmurs ripple around us. ‘Is that even something she can do?’ I whisper. ‘Can she excuse Rettlings from one of the trials?’ ‘She’s the High Priestess of Etta.’ Jonas shrugs. ‘She’s the one who hears what the Goddess wants.’ ‘Rettlings, take your places.’ The High Priestess lifts her hand to beckon us forward and then moves to the platform .
There are forty of us and nine jötnar. That means four-point-four people for each giant. Obviously not an even number, but with the variation in the sizes of people’s allegiances, some of the bigger groups could split into two or more. But the announcement of the reward changes everything.
Surely everyone will want to bring down a jötunn alone? It’s a mess.
Suddenly, we’re not just fighting the giants. We’re fighting each other, too.
The line of Rettlings begins moving forward, heading onto the beach.
Several people drag their heels – one or two out of fear, but others, like myself, are trying to work out which jötunn will be easiest to take down. ‘Our alliance still holds,’ Benny announces firmly as our group huddles together. ‘It doesn’t matter which one of us takes it down, right? If any of us get excused from the second trial, then that’s a win.’ ‘Right,’ I agree.
My heart is beating so fast that I’m having to remind myself to breathe as I move forward. As fear threatens to consume me, Zelle’s words of advice echo in my mind. I know myself. I know that I was accepted into the Retterheld because I deserve to be here. Which means Etta believes I have the strength to survive this.
A spark of confidence flickers inside me, and I glance over my shoulder, counting the moments until the last person steps onto the sand. Then a snarl, raw and alien, shatters the air. The sound is deafening – a thousand times louder than the bell this morning – and accompanied by a rancid smell that
burns the back of my throat.
Chaos breaks loose.
The jötnar are dressed in rough garb, and though they don’t seem to have weapons, it’s clear that they don’t need them. They’re waving their arms, growling, snarling, and simply bending down and scooping up sand and Rettlings alike. I watch in muted horror as one body is flung towards the sea, into the white-capped waves. I don’t need to look to see if they stand again. There’s no chance of surviving that.
Some of the Rettlings are running, running straight to the edge of the water, as if being there will save them. Instead, it just pins them in if a jötunn comes for them. Not the wisest move.
Then there’s the magic.
This entire place is filled with it. Fire is hurled from every direction, but it doesn’t seem to touch the giants, and blasts of wind that would have me flat on my back appear to do little more than irritate them. It’s not that
they’re impervious to the Rettlings’ powers; they’re simply too big for the magic to affect them to a significant enough degree.
I glance at Zara and find her standing frozen, her face twisted in concentration. She’s trying to open up whatever wounds they have, and though it seems to be working – there are certainly a few bleeding gashes appearing on the jötunn she’s fixated on – it’s primarily just making him angrier.
It’s the people who are running around that seem to be getting the brunt of the force of our enemy, the giants swatting them like flies. ‘We have to bring them down,’ I say grimly. ‘There’s no way we’ll survive for thirty minutes just dodging them.’ ‘Agreed,’ Llinos replies. ‘That one, the one with the jagged scar,’ Jonas yells. It’s hard to hear him over the roar of the giants, so he points again. ‘No!’ Benny shouts. ‘That one.’ He gestures towards a jötunn at the back of the group. Even the smallest of the monsters are at least thirty feet, but the one Benny picked must have another ten feet on that.
Ignoring Benny, Jonas tugs me towards the jötunn he picked, but the Eastern Islander shakes his head. ‘That one,’ Benny says again, more adamantly this time.
I pull my hand from Jonas’s grip. ‘He can see,’ I say, hoping Benny doesn’t mind me sharing what his power is. ‘He can see, Jonas. He knows which one to go for. Trust us, please.’ Jonas looks between us, pressing his lips together. ‘It’s enormous.’ ‘Trust me,’ I plead.
A muscle twitches along his jaw. ‘Fine, but only if you remember what I said,’ he murmurs before sprinting across the sand towards Benny.
As I move to follow them, a figure appears at my side. Estel. ‘You want another pair of hands?’ she asks.
Since we’re facing giants, I give the only reply I can. ‘Absolutely. The more the merrier.’ Together, we race towards the others who are now less than twenty feet from the colossal creature Benny chose. ‘What are we doing?’ I yell above the roars. ‘His legs,’ Benny hollers back. ‘He’s struggling to hold weight on them.
I’m guessing he took the biggest beating when the priestesses brought them
here. It hurts him to walk, meaning we don’t have to worry about him kicking out or chasing us. We just have to worry about his fists.’ ‘That’s not exactly a little worry!’ Jonas shouts, jumping back as the jötunn bends down and swings at us. His clenched fist is easily the size of a carriage, and it hurtles through the air with such a force that even the wind it creates is enough to unbalance me.
As I watch, powerless, Llinos sends a blast of air at his chest. It doesn’t stop him, but he slows by a fraction. ‘He’s in pain,’ Estel reminds us. ‘And that just made him angrier.’ She’s an empath – another skill that’s absolutely useless in this scenario.
We’ve no fire wielders or anyone who can raise the temperature of the jötunn’s blood until it boils. Just people who can look and hear and feel its emotion. Brilliant. ‘Jonas.’ I turn to the only one of us, besides Llin, whose magic physically does something. ‘Can you use your powers on him? Maybe if he’s disoriented, we can lead him into the sea.’ ‘I can try,’ he says dubiously.
Jonas steps back and raises his hands. I see his muscles twitch and his jaw tighten. I can practically feel the power radiating from him. ‘I think it’s working,’ I murmur.
The jötunn slows its movements, as if confused. That’s good. I remember exactly how Jonas’s powers affected me, and the blindness it brings means the giant won’t notice us coming at it with our weapons. But as I move to make my first strike, the jötunn lets out a scream.
Guttural, animalistic, and putrid, it’s strong enough to blow my hair
back from my face. ‘He’s really mad now!’ Estel shrieks.
Some powers are even less helpful than none at all, I can’t help but think. Still, I use the moment to throw a dagger up towards his neck. The aim is spot on, but he moves his head at the last minute, and the blade bounces off his jaw. ‘It’s fine,’ Jonas says. ‘This will work. I’m disorienting it.’ ‘He doesn’t need fucking disorienting,’ Benny snaps back. ‘He needs fucking putting down.’ Benny’s right. In the confusion of the blindness, the giant is stumbling forward, the pain in his legs secondary to this new affliction.
As I hasten out of his path, I glance across the battlefield. Only one jötunn has been taken down so far. Unsurprisingly, it’s the one the knights were fighting. But then something else catches my attention.
Kyor is battling a jötunn. Alone.
He has his jötunn trapped in his own micro-storm, and rain pelts down from green-tinged clouds hanging above his head. But it’s the lightning that mesmerises me. Hundreds of forked streaks strike its shoulder as wind knocks it back and forth. Goosebumps that have nothing to do with the storm slide over my skin. ‘Well, that makes my power look pretty shit.’ Llinos is at my side, blasting another burst of air at our jötunn’s fist as it swings above the sand. ‘Your power is definitely not shit,’ I say. ‘Right now, it’s what’s keeping
us alive.’ ‘True. But I’m not sure for how long.’ I struggle to tear my eyes away from the prince. With his powers as a storm-weaver, lightning, rain, and wind buffet his foe in an impressive display. He really is formidable … and a distraction I really don’t need at the moment.
I refocus. Daggers aren’t any good against the giant as the blades merely bounce off its thick, leathery skin. And though Benny and Loch are getting a few swipes in with their swords, they’re barely slicing through the giant’s top layer of skin. ‘We have one very unhappy big fella here,’ Benny yells. ‘We need to switch this up. And whatever the hell you’re doing, Jonas, for fuck’s sake,
stop it.’ ‘I’m helping!’ ‘You’re not,’ Estel snaps. ‘Any minute now he’s going to—’ The jötunn roars as it lashes out, its whole body sweeping in a wide circle that catches Jonas on the thigh before continuing on. Llinos is blasting everything she has at it, but it’s not making the slightest bit of difference. When its fist swings out the next time, it collides with Estel. The crunch of her bones reverberates in my ears as her body is thrown up into
the air.
She hits the sand with a lifeless thud.
Guilt swamps me, but I can’t let it distract me. Not now. We are losing this. We are losing our lives. As I stand there, frozen by indecision, Benny and Loch continue attacking with their swords, but it’s not going to be
enough. We’re only getting weaker, and the giant’s just getting more pissed off. ‘Rose!’ Jonas calls out to me. ‘Do you remember what I said? What you need to do?’ He nods across to the sand timer and I see the half hour is already more than halfway gone. He’s telling me to save myself.
But Llinos is giving it everything she has. Benny, too .
Estel is a crumpled heap on the sand, and like fuck am I going to leave them to a fate like that.
I have to do something. Know yourself. That’s what Zelle told me to do.
Well, I do know myself. I know I can throw knives, and I know I can climb.
The thought has barely formed when it hits me. There’s only one thing here that I can scale and doing it might actually help us.
