‘What did you mean when you said the others “disappeared”?’ I ask.
‘Oh Gods,’ Kay moans. ‘Please, I—’
No sooner has she started to speak than the world begins to spin. The colours of the trees and the brightening sky blur as the forest floor drops away beneath our feet, taking with it any hope of finding Mother’s ring.
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Chapter 39
When the ground appears again, it’s a rocky road. No more crunching leaves, no tall trees with a twig-filled canopy. An unnatural weakness has afflicted my knees, sending me off balance.
Fear and adrenaline pour through me. ‘Kay? Kay, where are you?’ I spin around as flakes of snow drift down and settle on my skin. ‘Kay!’ The scream scrapes at my throat.
‘They’ve taken them already,’ a female voice says bitterly. ‘They gave us just long enough for the briefest conversation.’
I blink at the figure beside me. It’s Grenda. Grenda, with her fierce tattoos and rippling back muscles. Though now she barely resembles the knight I’ve grown used to. Her eyes are red-rimmed, and her shoulders are hunched.
‘At least I saw him.’ I hear the pain in her voice and my own anxiety momentarily fades.
‘One of your sons?’ I ask.
She nods and sniffs before taking a long, shuddering breath and stiffening her back. The transformation is instant. The mourning mother is gone, and the warrior has returned.
‘My youngest,’ she says. A small smile flickers on her lips now. ‘He was well. It’s been three years since I last saw him. They’ll send him straight back to the front line now, I know that, but at least I got to hold him. I got to hold him for as long as possible. And he’s well. Strong.’ Pride courses through her words.
I curse myself. I spent too long with Kay talking about the trials and looking for the ring instead of telling her about Llinos and her offer for us to go live on Brandish with her after the trials. Thankfully, I know I’ll get to continue the conversation with Kay at the ball.
I’d like to think that Korvane’s commanders would give Grenda’s son leave long enough to attend the dance too, but if it’s up to Holden, there’s no chance.
‘Is this all of us?’ I say as I look around. There are only two others on the road, and my gut clenches. ‘Where are the others? Jonas? Llinos?’
The panic of nearly not having made it through the trial ebbs, giving rise to a cold dread that I’ll have to endure the rest of it on my own.
‘I saw one body in the woods while I was walking.’ Grenda’s voice is solemn. ‘A young woman from Rowell. Elenor, I think her name is.’
In terms of the people from Rowell I hope won’t make it, Elenor wouldn’t be top of my list, but I also won’t pretend to be saddened by this news.
‘There must be others,’ I say, thinking of the way Kyor sped through the woods on Elska’s back. There’s no way he didn’t get back in time. Which means there’s at least a chance that Llinos and Jonas are alive too, just in another portation group.
‘What now?’ I ask. ‘Where are we meant to go?’
‘I think I heard carriages. Horses’ hooves that way.’ Grenda nods her head. ‘We should go see.’
There is no talking as we make our way down the path, until, sure enough, there is a carriage waiting there. Two other Rettlings are sitting inside. Oke from Rowell, and Moryal the wind weaver from Galreck.
My eyes instinctively settle on Oke. Does she know about Elenor? Should I tell her? I immediately dismiss the idea. The last thing I want is for her to think I had something to do with it. Though that thought is immediately compounded by another. Maybe I did. Oke’s skin is sallow, as if she’s spent the last five hours vomiting up her guts. Perhaps Elenor was too sick to survive, too weak to even try to fight off one of the dire wolves.
I do my best to shake the thought away because I didn’t set out to kill anyone, but it gnaws at me all the same.
No one speaks on the journey back, and Oke is too wrecked to even try to bother glaring at me, which is a nice change. I assume the others, like me, are thinking of the loved ones they got to hold for all too short a time and wondering whether their friends made it through the trial.
As the carriage stops and I step outside, a familiar figure is waiting for me. I run towards him, wrap my arms around him, and squeeze tightly.
‘Gods, I was worried about you,’ Jonas says, his voice muffled against my hair.
‘Llinos?’ I ask desperately. ‘Have you seen her? Is she back already?’
His eyes say it all, and the strength that had returned to my knees on the journey back is stolen once more. He hasn’t seen her.
Panic surges. ‘Have you checked inside? Maybe she went into the dining hall for something to eat. Or to see Caroline? Yes, maybe she’s in the library. We need to check.’ I’m babbling, and as I go to move, he grabs me by the wrist.
‘Zelle told me I was in the first carriage back. I’ve been out here the whole time.’
It’s well past dawn now, and given how close I cut it to finding Kay, I can’t believe there’s anyone still to come. So what does that mean? Is Llinos out of the Retterheld or is she—no, she can’t be. She can’t. I won’t even think it.
As I continue to turn, searching for any sign of Llin, my eyes fall on Zara. She looks horrific. Blood drips down her arms, cheeks, and side, and there’s a greenish stain on her leathers. She barely makes it two steps out of her carriage before she stumbles.
Oke, who looks only marginally better, takes her by the arms and mumbles something about the healers’ quarter.
How could they have made it and not Llinos?
‘Thorn, you and I need to talk.’ The voice is a growl in my ear that causes my blood to run cold. Slowly, I turn to find his gaze as cold as solid ice as he glares at me.
‘This isn’t a great time, Kyor,’ Jonas replies. ‘People didn’t make it.’
‘Oh, I’m well aware. But I wasn’t asking.’ The prince doesn’t break eye contact with me as Jonas looks between the pair of us.
‘I’ll be fine,’ I tell Jonas, attempting to hide my uncertainty.
‘I’ll be just over there,’ he replies.
Kyor scoffs. ‘Like you could do anything,’ he mutters.
‘Such humility. It’s a great look for a future king.’ The words leave my mouth before I can stop them, and when Kyor arches an eyebrow, I’m not sure if I’ve amused him or pissed him off further.
‘Humility doesn’t bring men to their knees. Or women, for that matter.’ From the glint in his eyes, he definitely finds himself amusing, though in a blink the glint is replaced with the stony look I’ve become accustomed to.
He pulls me aside and lowers his voice. ‘You fucking poisoned me, Thorn,’ he hisses. ‘You tried to kill the heir to the throne? I could have your head for that.’
A tremble of nerves grips me, but I quash it the best I can.
‘I didn’t try to kill you.’ I look around to see if anyone heard me and then lower my voice to match his volume. He’s keen to keep our conversation private, and for obvious reasons, so am I. ‘You weren’t my target. I wanted to get to the Rowell crew after the FOF situation. You just drank from the wrong jug when I wasn’t looking. I stopped you from taking another glass.’
His eyes glitter. ‘The one time I go to the dining room,’ he mutters, but his shoulders loosen a little.
‘And it’s not like I knew the trial was going to be today. None of us did.’ I look him in the eyes and will him to believe me.
His lips part as if he’s about to speak, but whatever he was going to say is interrupted by a shout behind us.
‘Rose!’
‘Llinos? Llinos!’
Just like Zara, Llinos is covered in blood. But her smile and eyes are bright, and that’s all I need to see. A relieved laugh bursts from me as I race across to where she stands outside the final carriage.