‘There are two of them?’ My eyebrows rise. Fantastic. No doubt Zara’s sibling is going to love me.

‘Yep. And they’re both as nasty as one another.’

I let out a low sigh and try to swallow the lump in my throat. Kyor, Zara, Shim and the rest of the Rowell Rettlings. The list of people who won’t want me to survive this thing, let alone win it, is growing. ‘Fuck. What does his magic do?’

‘Not sure. Wasn’t entirely sure what her power was until she did that to you.’ He shakes his head. ‘I should have stepped in. What other injuries did she bring back? You were limping.’

I’m tempted to lie, but as I start to shake my head, I change my mind. ‘The top of my leg … I burned it a few months back.’

His eyes wander down to my thigh. ‘Do you want me to have a look at it?’

‘Are you a healer?’ I question. Jonas is a year younger than me, but his powers hadn’t yet settled when I left. Meaning I’ve got no idea what he’s capable of.

‘No,’ he admits. ‘Not a healer.’

‘Then what exactly would you be looking for?’ I ask archly.

He swallows hard and that same pink colouring as before dusts his cheeks. I like it. It’s a nice contrast to that burly, broad side of him.

Rather than flirt with him and tease him further, I laugh at him, letting him off the hook. ‘It’s fine,’ I say, shifting out of his grip. ‘I think I have some salve in my bag. I can sort it.’

‘There are healers on hand for things like that.’

‘I can sort it,’ I repeat, more comfortable with doing what I can myself.

I reach into my bag and pull out a series of vials. Some are from Rula’s other suppliers, but most of them are my own concoctions. When I wasn’t trying to stop Kay from crying last night and this morning, I was packing up as much as I could. Anything I couldn’t make, I traded for. It’s officially the most well-stocked my stores have been since I moved into the slums. I’ve even got a small gas stove, a copper pan, and a pestle and mortar in my bag, just in case I need to whip up more of something.

‘Bathroom through here?’ I nod towards a door.

‘Yeah,’ he says.

‘Great. I’ll just be a minute.’

I wonder if perhaps he’ll leave while I’m in the bathroom, but there are no footsteps on the creaking stairs as I pull down my trousers and look at the wound, only to wince. It’s red and angry, but not half as bad as it was the first time, which is interesting. Did her powers get weaker because it wasn’t the first of my injuries she reopened, or because it was the furthest back? It’s a question I stow away for later as I slather the salve over my pained skin.

I apply it liberally, hoping I’ll be able to find more ingredients in the palace if I need them. Then I pull my trousers back on, already benefitting from the cooling effect.

Back in the bedroom, Jonas is pulling items out of the wardrobe and shoving them into his bag.

‘What’s your power?’ I ask, the question leaving my mouth before I can stop it. It’s rude to ask so plainly, but instead of apologising for it, I double down, unable to drop it now that I’ve raised it a second time. ‘You didn’t have it when I … when we left. I know you’re not a healer, so what is it? Can you show me?’

He twists around to look at me, still stuffing the bag. His brow crinkles. ‘It’s not something you want to see.’

‘How about I be the judge of that?’ I ask archly.

Rather than respond, he bites down on his bottom lip and I’m struck by an urge to move closer, maybe move my fingers in lazy circles across his skin, the way he did with me only a moment ago. It’s the longest silence we’ve shared, and I’m discovering I’m not great at silences. Not around Jonas, anyway.

‘It’s not very pleasant,’ he says finally.

‘For you?’

‘For the person I do it to.’

‘So it’s an offensive power? A fire wielder? No, you’d be able to show me that without having to do anything to me. So is it something like Zara’s power?’

He releases a single, chesty laugh. ‘No. It’s not a power you’re going to guess. And it’s not painful, more … disorienting.’

I take a step past him and take a seat on the bed. ‘Why don’t you stop talking in riddles and just show me?’

He presses his lips tightly together. I can see he’s not keen on the idea, but it’s not as though I’m going to use it against him. The truth is, the only person I’d even consider making an alliance with is him, and so it would really help me to know what I’ll be working with.

‘Please,’ I say softly.

When he lets out a low sigh, I know I’ve persuaded him. He drops onto the bed next to me before he speaks. ‘I need you to take my hand.’

I try to keep the surprise off my face. ‘You have to be touching the person for it to work?’ In terms of powers, requiring touch is generally not a good sign. I wonder if it’s some kind of mind-reading? If that’s the case, I want to back out now. Either that or I quickly need to erase the dirty thoughts I’ve already had about him before he can see them.

Mind-reading or not, I can’t imagine a power that needs touch will be much use in a tournament when the other participants want you unconscious or dead. Being close enough to hold them means you’re definitely close enough for them to stick a sword through you.

‘No, it doesn’t need touch to work. You’re not taking my hand for me.’ His voice is soft. ‘It’s for you. Like I said, it can be disorienting.’

Not entirely sure I’m making the smartest decision, I take his hand.

‘Wh—?’ Before I can finish the word, I know exactly why I needed to hold him.

I sit up sharply, trying to steady my heartbeat.

‘Jonas?’ My voice catches as my pulse soars. I don’t want to sound terrified, but I really am. I can’t see. There’s nothing. Just pure, bright-white emptiness. I thought darkness was disorienting. But this…? Without my sight for reference, it’s like I can’t balance. My head is spinning and panic tears through me.

‘It’s okay, Rose. I’m still here.’ He squeezes my hand tightly and the touch anchors me, steadies me. A second later, my vision returns, but the feeling of disorientation remains. I blink a few times, trying to make sure I can fully see.

‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have shown you.’ Jonas’s face is pinched with guilt.

‘No … I … I asked. Thank you. That’s just … wow.’ I shake my head, checking my balance is intact. ‘How many people can you do that to at once?’ If he can target a few people at the same time … I can see why he didn’t bother cementing any alliances.

‘Just one target,’ he tells me. ‘One person at a time. But as long as I have a direct line of sight on them, it doesn’t matter how far away I am. It’s a fairly powerful tool.’ He slides me a nervous look. ‘It will likely work best if I pair up with someone. I disorient the mark while the other person lands the blow.’

‘Makes sense,’ I say, wondering if he’s thinking what I hope he is.

It’s only as I go to speak again that I realise he hasn’t let go of my hand. Not only that, but our fingers are intertwined. It’s reassuringly warm and almost enough to distract me from the pain in my left hand. Almost. As his eyes meet mine, his fingers graze my jaw. A swarm of butterflies takes flight in my stomach.

‘I thought about you.’ His voice is close to a whisper. ‘I thought about you almost every day since you left. Like somehow I knew I’d get to see you again.’

‘I thought about you, too,’ I respond, inching closer to him. ‘Your father was one of the only people who was kind to us after everything that happened.’

Rather than continuing to lean closer, the way I expected him to, Jonas stiffens slightly, then drops his hand from my face and stands.

‘I should go,’ he says abruptly. ‘Find another place to sleep. But I’ll see you at the ball.’

‘Right, yes.’ The sudden change in atmosphere feels more tense than just an average brush-off, but what the hell could have caused it, I have no idea. Then again, perhaps it’s for the best. I’m here for a reason, and it’s time I focus on that. That means no distractions. Not yet.