Chapter 43
linos is waiting at the doorway and she rushes towards me when she sees me.L ‘Rose, thank the Gods. Where have you been? Kay said you ran out after Kyor?’ ‘Not exactly …’ I’m not sure why I’m lying to her, but I can’t bring myself to share what’s happened even with her. ‘And why the hell are you so wet?’ she adds, plucking at my sodden gown.
This question, at least, I can answer. ‘It was raining.’ ‘Not here, it wasn’t.’ A glance back outside is all it takes for me to see she’s right. My footprints from earlier still mark the snow.
The rain … it must have been Kyor. It’s not just lightning, but the entire spectrum of the storm he controls. I wonder if he even knew he was doing it. ‘You need to get dry.’ Llinos chews on her bottom lip. ‘It’ll be cold, but it’ll be fast, and then you can head to one of the fires to warm up.’ I’m about to ask what the hell she’s talking about when the blast hits me. Pure cold air whips through my hair and dress, covering every inch of my skin in goosebumps and instantly making me start to shiver. ‘Better,’ she says appraisingly as she steps back. ‘But as I said, you need to get warm.’ She grimaces. ‘And give your hair a brush. Come on, let’s find Kay and get you by a fire. ’ A quick squeeze of my hair tells me that party trick of hers works well.
Wind weaver, seamstress extraordinaire, and walking hair dryer. Some
friends come with real benefits.
As I make my way back into the ballroom, it’s almost impossible to believe that this is the same place where, less than an hour ago, the king was attacked and one of the most beloved commanders of his guards was killed. The wine is flowing even more freely than before and the music is beating out a quick, jovial pulse to which men and women are throwing themselves across the dance floor. The sight of it curdles my stomach. ‘Rose, where did you go?’ Jonas is on me before I’ve even had a chance to look for Kay. ‘And what happened to your hair?’ ‘It’s a new style,’ Llin answers for me. ‘Have you seen Kay?’ He frowns for a moment, obviously dissatisfied with both our responses, though he replies all the same. ‘I saw her heading into one of the
antechambers.’
‘The antechambers?’ ‘Down the corridor.’ ‘Which one?’ I begin, only to shake my head. ‘It’s fine. I’ll find her.’ I stride towards a corridor with an arched ceiling and gilded frescoes and swing open the first door I come to. The first room is occupied by a group of middle-aged women who all fall silent the moment they see me, but as Kay isn’t among them, I couldn’t care less. The second door is more of the same, but when I open the third, there is a couple whispering together on one of the sofas.
Anger and heat roll through me, though before I get a word out, Hew spots me and jumps to his feet. ‘We thought it was best to move away from the ballroom. You know, with the rebels and everything.’ ‘The rebels who’ve already been killed?’ Hew might have gone up in my estimation with the way he protected Kay during the riot, but he’s plunged right back down again. Bringing an unmarried woman alone into a room like this isn’t exactly protecting her reputation. And judging by the way he’s shuffling awkwardly, he knows it. ‘You two must have a great deal to catch up on.’ His voice is bright, unnaturally so considering the evening we’ve just had. ‘I shall leave you ladies in peace. Rose.’ He takes my hand and kisses it gently, though my arm remains rigid the entire time. He then turns back to Kay, who already has her hand out, ready and waiting .
‘Kay, I will call for you tomorrow?’ ‘It will be the highlight of my day,’ Kay replies, holding his gaze for a fraction too long for me to feel comfortable. A moment later, he turns away and leaves. ‘No,’ I say, trying to keep my voice measured. ‘Whatever is going on there, or whatever you think you might want to happen, it ends now.’ ‘What?’ Kay tries to feign innocence and fails. I know my sister way too well for that. ‘He was just being friendly.’ ‘No,’ I snap out. ‘He’s not.’ I’m fully aware of exactly how hardheaded I sound, and I really don’t give a shit. Protecting Kay has been the central purpose of my life for years, and I’m not failing her now. ‘Kay, he is not the type of person you want to be friends with. You don’t even know him.’ ‘No, you don’t know him,’ she stresses, sitting ramrod straight. ‘You’ve said all but three words to him. I, on the other hand, have spent several hours with him today and on many other occasions. Artur and Hew’s father are good friends, and I can tell you, he’s a good man, a really good man.’ Fuck. Of course Kay would think that. She thinks that about everyone.
She could meet Mortidem, with his black cane and red eyes, and she’d probably just compliment him on how well the colours go together. And I can tell from the way she bites down ever so slightly on the corner of her mouth that there’s no chance she’s going to listen to me on this one. ‘Can you just keep your guard up around him?’ I beg, hoping for a middle ground. Though rather than agreeing, she chuckles. ‘Why are you laughing? I’m not joking,’ I huff. ‘No, I know you’re not. But you sounded like Hew just now. He was telling me to keep my guard up and not to trust the people at court. You should have heard the long warning he gave me before you got here tonight.
He was worried people would try to pry information about you from me to exploit your weaknesses in the next trial.’ ‘He said that to you?’ That’s definitely not the conversation I thought the pair of them were having, but then maybe I should give Kay more credit. No matter how much I think of her as a little kid, she’s not. In fact, she’s old enough to have entered the Retterheld herself. The thought makes me feel physically sick. ‘Yes,’ she says. ‘Like I mentioned already, I have spent a fair bit of time with him, and I like to think I’m a pretty good judge of character. ’
She wants me to agree with her on the matter, but I can’t. She’s just too trusting to be rational when it comes to people. ‘So tell me everything,’ Kay says, lounging back on the sofa and patting the seat next to her. ‘Your friends seem lovely. And Jonas —’ ‘Is also just a friend,’ I assure her hastily. ‘You’re right. The others are great. They’re from the Eastern Isles.’ As soon as I start, the words don’t stop. We talk for hours, with me covering everything from the moment when Jonas met me in the High Hold, to my time in the forest – though I omit a fair few details about Kyor, the dire wolf, and the dagger.
Kay has plenty to tell me, too. About how Artur arranged to move her to the High Hold and had a seamstress fix her new dresses, as well as her room with two fireplaces and the pastries she’s eaten every night.
More than once, I consider telling her about the offer Llin made for us to go with her to the Isles, but I don’t. Kay seems so settled, and I don’t want to say anything to make her think I have less than one hundred percent confidence in me winning the gifting. She doesn’t need to worry about contingency plans. That’s my job.
I am about to ask her about other people she’s met, but before I can, the door to the antechamber swings open. Standing there is a portly man with beads of sweat dripping down his forehead, which he dabs away with a handkerchief. There are just enough similarities to the man I remember from my past to tell me this is Artur Lorathin. ‘There you are,’ he says jovially.
I jump to my feet, trying not to gawk. He’s changed so much. His hair has gone, his figure has rounded, and there’s a pittedness to his skin that looks to have been caused by overindulging in drink. He’s a long way from the warrior my parents considered their friend – on the outside, anyway. ‘Lord Lorathin.’ Remembering my manners, I hurry across to the door and bend my knees in a poorly practised curtsy. ‘I cannot thank you enough for what you have done for my sister. Your generosity in bringing her here, so that I can see her at these events, is more than I could have dreamed.’ His smile reveals two rows of perfectly white teeth. ‘Rose, please, call me Artur. And it is my honour. Kay has been quite the perfect houseguest.
And from what I hear, you’re a rather formidable Rettling.’ ‘I am grateful that Etta and the Gods have favoured me thus far.’
‘And long may it continue.’ He flashes me another smile before turning his attention to my sister. ‘Acacia, dearest, it is time we head back to the apartment. The king has retired and it is only good form that we do the same.’ ‘Oh. Of course.’ She tries to smile, but I know that, just like me, there’s reluctance in every pore of her body to be separated again. She turns to look at me and her eyes fill with tears.
I try to hold my own back, to be strong for her. ‘I love you,’ I whisper, holding her so close I’m sure that neither of us can breathe. But I don’t care. Breathing doesn’t matter if Kay’s not in my life. ‘This isn’t goodbye, remember? Only three more trials.’ Though I can admit to myself that that’s three too many.
When I break away, tears stream down her cheeks. ‘Please stay alive, Rose. I won’t be okay if I lose you, too. Please stay safe.’ ‘I promise that it’s at the top of my to-do list,’ I quip, squeezing her once more.
She turns and takes the arm Artur has extended for her. ‘Goodnight, Rose.’ His voice is courteous, but the pause that follows feels sharp somehow. ‘I’m sure we will see you again. If Etta wills it so.’
MY BODY CLOCK wakes me early the next morning, and I stumble half- asleep down to the yard. It’s only when I’m nearly to the weapons cabinet that I realise Zelle will not be waiting for me. The knowledge is like a sledgehammer to the heart, and the pain only increases at the sight of Kyor sleeping by the cabinet, an empty bottle in his hand and a few other empties alongside him.
I hesitate for just a beat before waking him. ‘You can’t sleep here,’ I say, noting the red rim of his eyes. ‘You’ll freeze.’ I help him to his feet, but it’s not easy and he sways dangerously as I try to find my balance to hold him upright. Finally, I’ve got him in a position I can handle, with an arm wrapped around his waist, and using more force than seems kind, I tug him forward. Apparently, it’s my turn to lead.
It’s slow going out of the yard, and he toys with my hair as we stagger together. I let him, mostly because wrestling free would mean dropping him flat on the floor.
After what feels like one of the most intense workouts I’ve had so far, I get him into the warmth of the barracks. The question is where to go next.
There are plenty of seats in the dining hall, but the last thing he needs is for the other Rettlings to see him in this state. Most will understand, but undoubtedly some will see his compassion as weakness. I could take him to the dorms, but manoeuvring him up the stairs feels even more daunting than getting him inside. The kitchen downstairs, however? Food and water would be his friend, and I could stand in front of him as we head down to ensure he doesn’t fall. ‘Such a pretty Rose,’ he murmurs, his fingers winding a little too tightly in my icy-blonde hair, making my scalp prickle. ‘So beautiful,’ he whispers.
If he keeps saying things like that, I might have to forgive him for all the tangles he’s making.
It’s early, even for the kitchen staff, but one person is already working downstairs, though she stops the moment she sees us. ‘Oh, Ky,’ Leilah gasps. ‘It’s all right, my boy. It’s all right.’ Without so much as a glance at me, she pulls him into her arms. His weight sags into her and his shoulders shudder as he allows his tears to tumble free.
For all his power, all his posturing, the sound that escapes him is nothing more than a broken sob.
He isn’t untouchable, isn’t carved from stone. He’s just a man, fragile and aching, stumbling through grief like the rest of us.
Feeling like I’m intruding, I silently slip away, scrubbing away tears that I didn’t even realise were falling.
FROM THE HANGING heads at breakfast, I think it’s fair to assume that Kyor isn’t the only one nursing a serious hangover, though whether the other Rettlings were drinking to celebrate their survival or to forget the traumas they’ve had to endure so far is anyone’s guess.
Later that day, the battle yard is close to empty as Llinos and I spar together. As great a job as the healers have done on her injury, she struggles to even block using that arm, and for the first time ever I have to hold back to give her a chance. Some of it might come from me getting stronger, of course, but it’s definitely not that alone. ‘Three more trials,’ Llinos says, swinging her sword at me. ‘Technically two and then the Ofur,’ I reply. ‘I’m trying to think of it as just another trial. I mean, I can’t imagine it’s going to be worse than the others.’ ‘Can’t imagine or don’t want to?’ I sass. ‘Oh, definitely don’t want to.’ She grins at me.
She swings at me again and this time gets a decent strike across my ribs.
I’ve been distracted more than I’d like during our fight as my eyes keep falling on the tallies etched into the wall. I’m too far away to take them in clearly, but it doesn’t change the fact that I can’t forget they’re there. That I can’t seem to tear my mind away from the prince, no matter how hard I try. ‘How long before the next trial, do you think?’ I restart the conversation in the hope that it’ll stop me thinking about Kyor. ‘Surely they’ll want to give us all time to heal fully before they hit us with the next one.’ ‘Who knows? I’m hoping for as long as possible though, because the healers said they’ve done as much as they can for my arm and now it just needs time. And if I have to fight like this …’ She presses her lips together, unable to finish. Not that she needs to. ‘There might not even be any fighting in the next one.’ I’m clutching at straws, trying to find something to comfort her. ‘We’re also meant to use our heads for the trials, right? Maybe it’ll be something logical. You’re great at strategic thinking.’ ‘Maybe,’ she replies, though she doesn’t look convinced. If anything, her nervousness seems to grow. ‘There’s something else I wanted to talk to you about. I feel really, really shit about it, and it might not even happen, but I think we need to be prepared for it. But I don’t want you to be pissed, because it’s not an insult, it’s just …’
I stop swinging and look at her. ‘You want to spit it out?’ She takes a deep breath in. ‘There’s almost always a trial near the end when they make us act in pairs. And we decided before we came in that I would be with Loch and Benny would work with Jai, but now … well …’
Once again, there’s no need for her to finish the sentence. She’ll work with Benny. Of course she will. ‘It’s fine. Really,’ I tell her. And it is, but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to myself that there’s the tiniest sting of disappointment. ‘I just feel crap,’ she says. ‘And I want to be clear that it’s not because you don’t have powers or anything. It’s really not that.’ ‘I get it. I promise.’ I do, but it doesn’t stop the heavy weight that drops in my stomach. Or the reminder that even though I’ve got this far, I’m still less than the rest of them. ‘If it comes to pairs, I’m sure I can go with Jonas. He’ll love the chance to tell me to stay back.’ She lets out a nervous laugh. ‘Yeah, true.’ ‘Really, Llin. It’s fine.’ ‘Thank you.’ This time her smile is more genuine as she whips up a spiral of sand with her hand. ‘It’s weird being able to use magic in here.
Feels wrong.’ Shit. I hadn’t even thought about that. Without Zelle to siphon the Rettlings, the battle yard is going to become even more dangerous. And that’s saying something. ‘Fuck. I guess that means Holden’ll be in charge of all the sessions now.’ This knowledge causes a far deeper churning in my gut than the idea of Llin pairing up with Benny. Holden has already used ‘training’ as an excuse to try to kill me once. With Zelle gone, he’ll have unlimited opportunities.
I guess I’ll be training in the empty dorms again.
Llinos stops playing with the magic in the air and starts moving her feet again, only to stop mid-step at the sound of approaching voices. ‘Yeah, maybe it’s time we cut this short for the day.’ She gestures to the gateway where Zara, Oke, and Mattieu are striding towards us.
If I had to bet on which three of Zara’s little group would survive, it probably would be them. But it’s funny how the last couple of weeks have changed things. Changed me. I feel stronger. Tougher. Comfortable?
Maybe. Definitely not a runt. I’ve made it this far, and there’s no reason to believe I can’t make it to the end.
But they look tougher too, though in a more weathered way.
Physically, their skin looks tired and worn, with bags under their eyes and countless scars, with Zara’s burn mark from our first meeting still
prominent. They look like the Retterheld is breaking them, not making them.
They’ve lived a life of privilege where death was just some honourable passage to eternal darkness. But watching friends and family die, stripped of life because they volunteered for a gifting driven by ambition rather than need, is something else entirely. That kind of loss changes you, especially if this is the first time they’ve ever truly seen what the world can take .
Once again, my eyes flick to the tally on the wall. ‘Excellent. Fighting fodder.’ Zara grins.
I open my mouth to respond, only for my jaw to lock in pain. I only got cuts and scrapes in the last trial, but them opening all at once like that was a shock I didn’t expect. If she goes back to the fight with the jötunn, then that’s going to be tougher to deal with.
Fuck! A fresh spike of pain slices through my ribs. We’re on to older wounds too, then. ‘Stop it!’ Llinos has both her sword and a hand raised at Zara and the others. ‘This is not what Zelle would have wanted.’ A scoff. ‘You really think I give a fuck what Zelle would have wanted?
That old man was nothing. Siphons are a drain. That type of magic is a farce. Where’s the real strength in it?’ ‘Did you just fucking question the strength of a man who died saving the life of the king?’ Kyor’s voice cuts through the air, low and dangerous.
He stands leaning against the wall with his sleeves rolled up and his feet bare, yet another glass bottle swinging loosely in his hand. Dammit, he must have got away from Leilah. I suppose even she can’t stop a prince if he’s determined to get really fucking drunk.
His attention lingers on me for a moment before he looks back at Zara.
His voice is resonant, each word clipped and sharp. ‘You think Zelle was weak?’ He straightens to his full height, one step carrying him into her space.
Zara stands tall too, looking him in the eye, but I can see the sudden nervousness in her gaze. ‘I said his powers lacked strength, Your Royal Highness, and I stand by that.’ ‘Right, right. Weak,’ Kyor says. ‘But see, the thing is, when you’ve got really powerful magic on your side, it’s not necessarily a good thing.’ Shadows fall over us and a dark cloud sweeps in, all of it tinged with that
peridot tint I now know is all his. Thunder rumbles once and then again. ‘Because it’s ever so easy to lose control.’ There’s a crack like a whip as a lightning bolt strikes the wall. Sparks fly upward, the scent of singed stone filling the air.
Oke and Mattieu move closer to Zara, as if the three of them huddling together will offer any protection at all. ‘Fuck you,’ Zara snarls, teeth gritted. ‘I don’t care that you’re the prince. Right now, you’re just another Rettling in my way.’ ‘Is that right?’ he says mildly .
Lightning strikes again. This time, the bolt lands just a couple of feet in front of them.
The flash is blinding and my vision is temporarily stolen. It’s like I’ve been hit by Jonas’s power.
The moment it clears, I’m staring at Kyor again. His jaw is locked tight, so I’d bet Zara has opened up every old wound she could find on him, and yet he’s still walking towards her. ‘Zelle had more powers than your small mind will ever conceive of,’ he grinds out.
Mattieu sends a fireball in his direction only for Kyor to snuff it out with a gust of wind before it even reaches his feet. ‘Let me make one thing clear,’ he says as rain begins to pour over the three of them. ‘You mention Zelle again, you even think about mentioning him … and my lightning bolts won’t miss.’ He sends another down and it strikes just an inch from where Oke grips her sword. Any closer and the metal would have conducted the electricity.
She would be dead. How the fuck does he have that much control when he’s drunk? I can’t even imagine what he’d be like sober. ‘You’re all done here,’ he says, looking from them back to me. ‘The ground’s mine today. Tell the other Rettlings – they set foot here, and I’ll kill them.’ The three Rowell Rettlings exchange a look, though only when Zara nods do the other two bolt for the gate. To give Zara her due, she walks slowly. But maybe that’s stupidity rather than bravery.
Llinos grabs my hand. ‘Rose, we should go.’ I hear her, but I don’t respond.
Instead, I pull my hand from her grip and walk towards the prince. ‘Kyor?’
I’m sure he must be able to hear me, but when I place my hand on his shoulder, he startles as if I’ve drawn a sword on him. ‘You shouldn’t be here,’ I tell him. ‘It won’t help.’ ‘I told everyone. I told you. The battle yard’s mine today. Unless you want to start something with me, Thorn —’ I ignore him easily. Only a couple of hours ago his hands were tangled in my hair and he was calling me beautiful. ‘The drinking won’t help,’ I say, nodding to the bottle. ‘From someone whose father tried that method and lost to it, believe me, it’s not a road you want to go down. Go back to Leilah, eat some Godsdamn food, and drink some water. Zelle wouldn’t want you to do this. ’ With that, I spin on my heel and leave him to his grief.
WITH THE BATTLE yard evidently out of commission for the day, it’s probably my laziest afternoon since arriving back in the High Hold.
For several hours, I flick through books on daggers, trying to find anything useful. I’m about to give up when my eyes fall on a small image at the bottom of a page. My heart stutters.
The three blades of Vindrun.
I pick the book up and move over to the light, trying not to get my hopes up – after all, the image is small – but the more I study it, the more certain I become. These blades aren’t similar to mine. They’re identical.
With my pulse quickening, I turn the page, ready to read more, only to find a different image – a large crystal with endless text about Sanrott beneath. I flick back again, hoping to find two pages stuck together, but there’s nothing. Where the hell is it! My hands tremble as I open the book wide and run my finger along the inside of the page, only for my stomach to sink.
A thin, jagged strip of paper tells me what I already feared. The page has been ripped out. But who would have taken it?
Mila. The answer comes to me immediately. The High Priestess has the same dagger so she would seem the obvious choice, but I’m not sure how I’d go about asking her about the missing page. And why rip it out, unless she wanted to keep something hidden?
Still, I now know that my dagger is one of the three blades of Vindrun.
It’s a start. A good one. Now that I have a name, Caroline should have a much better chance of finding out more.
I dress in my old slum clothes. There’s no point wasting my fighting leathers and furs when Caroline doesn’t give a damn about things like that, and the only other items I have are ballgowns, which I’m not going to wear to the library. Besides, slum clothing might be unfashionable and unflattering, but it’s comfortable. And right now, that’s what matters.
Llinos marches into the room as I’m gathering my things. ‘I thought people worked long hours on the island.’ She flops onto the bed. ‘But I haven’t even seen Caz today. These damn nobles expect her to be at their beck and call the moment they have something they think worthy of being recorded by an official scribe. And, spoiler, most of it’s not.’ She lets out a sigh before rolling onto her stomach and looking at me. ‘What have you been doing while I’ve been gone?’ A hint of frustration sparks within me. So much for hoping to get Caroline on the case tonight. Then again, I’ve waited long enough already.
Another day likely won’t hurt. ‘I think I’ve got a name for the dagger, but I still don’t know anything about it.’ I hesitate. ‘Is it wrong that I wish I could test it out on someone, just to see what it does? I feel like there must be a reason Dinah gave it to me.’ ‘I volunteer Zara,’ Llin replies without missing a beat. ‘Actually, I volunteer the three remaining Rettlings from Rowell.’ ‘I don’t think you can volunteer someone without their permission.’ ‘Well, that’s shit.’ I laugh only to be interrupted by a knock at the door. ‘You expecting company?’ she asks me, tension rising. ‘Yeah, because I’m the one who has frequent visitors,’ I hiss back, although there is actually a possibility that Kestria fancied a sparring session. I briefly spoke to her about it at dinner, but I meant later in the week rather than tonight.
A grin spreads across Llin’s face. ‘I guess Caz finished early.’ She scrambles up from the bed and runs to the door, only to freeze when it’s half open. ‘Oh. I think you must be lost.’ She isn’t rude so much as confused, but the way she speaks makes my skin bristle and I rise to my feet, unsure who
would warrant such a welcome.
I recognise our guest instantly when he speaks. ‘I need Thorn,’ he says gruffly. ‘And I need her now.’
