‘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.