He rocks a little in the seat. ‘I don’t understand. I should be able to hear them. Why can’t I hear them? They must be lying.’

Benny looks confused. ‘You can’t hear? Is that what you’re saying? Have they blocked our magic?’

My ribs clench around my chest. Is it a good thing or not if the first trial is the one where magic’s banned? It would definitely even the playing field among the other Rettlings, but it won’t make me any stronger or more able to defeat whatever’s waiting for us.

‘My magic’s fine.’ Llinos lifts a hand and conjures a breeze that wafts through the carriage.

‘Mine too,’ Benny replies.

Jonas doesn’t bother commenting. I don’t know if the others even know what his magic is, but even if they do, now doesn’t feel like the right moment to test it.

‘They’ve done something to them,’ Loch continues his babbling. ‘They’ve done something.’

‘Them? Do you mean the other Rettlings?’ I ask, only for a noise from outside to steal our attention. The driver of the carriage is calling out, slowing the horses. As it draws to a stop, none of us move.

‘I don’t think I want to do this.’ Loch’s voice sounds more like a child’s than a middle-aged man’s. ‘I don’t think I can do this. I don’t think I can face them.’

Jonas reaches over and grabs his hand. ‘You heard what we said on the way over here, didn’t you? Whatever it is we’re about to face, we face it together.’

Warmth floods through me. Jonas may have made more than one comment that has irked me over the last couple of weeks, but then he goes and does something like this – finds exactly the right words to say – and my heart melts.

‘Come on, buddy. I’ve got you,’ Benny says. He opens the carriage door and steps out first, waiting for Loch to follow.

As Llinos stands to join them, Jonas grabs me by the wrist.

‘One minute,’ he says. ‘Just give me one minute.’

Given there’s a patch of wet on his fur that I’m fairly sure is my drool, I figure I can give him this. Even if I’m burning to know what’s out there.

‘Rose.’ Jonas’s voice is low, his eyes solely on mine, like we’re the only things that matter and not the trial waiting just outside that could very well kill us. ‘Whatever we face today, I need you to promise me you won’t take any risks. Promise me that.’

I laugh. It’s not deliberate, but it’s the most ridiculous thing he could possibly say.

‘Not take any risks? Jonas, we’re going into a trial. This is the Retterheld. It’s meant to be one giant risk. That’s why we deserve a gifting at the end of it. One of us, anyway.’

‘I know that. I do. But you have people here. Friends with powers. Friends who can risk their lives because they’re in a better position to fight than you. If it comes to that, let them take the fall. Keep yourself safe.’

I study him, wanting to make sure I’m understanding him correctly. But I am. I know I am.

‘Are you saying I should just let my friends die?’ I ask. ‘If that’s the best option for me?’

‘I’m one hundred percent saying that, yes.’ He nods. ‘Everybody signed up for this knowing they would face death.’

‘Everyone including me,’ I tell him.

‘Please. Please, for me.’

He lifts his hand and cups the side of my cheek, his thumb brushing gently across my jaw. There it is again, that fizzing, twisting in my stomach. It’s as potent and dizzying as the first time I saw him again in the High Hold.

‘For me, Rose,’ he entreats. ‘There’s so much I want to tell you. So much I need to tell you. You just have to survive this, okay? Promise me. No unnecessary risks.’

I open my mouth, still not sure how I’m going to reply, but I don’t get a chance. Before I realise what’s happening, his lips are on mine. Days of not knowing where exactly he and I stand, and finally I have my answer.

There is an urgency to the way he kisses me, like it might be the only time he gets to do it. But thinking like that won’t help either of us.

I press my hand to his chest, not sure if it’s to move him away or simply to feel him. And before I’ve made up my mind, there’s a hammering on the door. Leaning away from him, I push the door open.

‘Time to get out, guys.’ Llinos offers us only a fleeting glance before turning back to whatever is awaiting us. ‘You’re gonna want to see this.’

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 27

The good news is, there are no spectators at this particular trial. But that’s where the good news ends.

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.