‘I think we should all stay on alert,’ Llinos adds. ‘You never know when it might happen.’

‘When exactly aren’t we on alert around here?’ I reply. ‘I know I am. All the fucking time.’

My eyes shift around the depressing dining room. So few trials down and already more than half of us are gone. I know from Benny and Jonas’s history lessons that it’s not been the deadliest Retterheld, but it’s up there.

With so few competitors, it’s easy to see that Kyor isn’t here. I can stop him from touching me, but it seems I can’t stop thinking about him. Wondering where he is and who he’s with. Were the stunts he pulled on me something he’s tried on every Rettling? Not to mention every eligible woman at court? You don’t come in with confidence like that unless you’re sure of your ability. And if the sparks that flew between us through the fight are anything to go by, just his fingers on me are going to be enough to send me over the edge.

I am not thinking about his fingers on me.

‘Do you think Zelle’s death slowed things down?’ Llin asks, still mulling over why we haven’t yet had our third trial. ‘Not Zelle himself, I mean, but the rebels’ attack. Maybe they’re upping the security.’

‘Ah yes, because it’s so essential to make sure we’re secure when we’re heading towards probable death,’ Benny replies grimly as he joins us at the table.

I’m only half listening because Kyor has appeared at the top of the kitchen stairs. And annoyingly, he sees me looking. He looks … eager, excited.

Knife, he mouths at me. I’m still frowning when I notice two interlopers walking into the room: a man and a woman, both with grey hair twisted and piled high on top of their heads.

‘Guys,’ I say, interrupting the bickering that’s still going on between Benny and Llinos. ‘Guys, have you ever seen those two people before?’

Both of the islanders glance down to the end of the dining hall, although the man has now moved and is heading towards us.

‘No.’ Llinos shakes her head.

‘Never,’ Benny adds.

‘Does anyone else feel that?’ Jonas asks, frowning.

The moment he speaks, I feel it too. Something is swirling right in the pit of my stomach.

‘Is this—’ Before I get the words out, the clanging starts – the chime announcing the start of the trial.

I reach for my knife – Godsdamn it, that’s what Kyor meant – but just as my fingers begin to curl around the hilt, the dining hall disappears, my knife with it.

The third trial’s begun, and I’m defenceless.

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Chapter 47

My knees hit the hard ice as I land, but the sound is muted and the impact is softened by thick padding. It’s not just my location that has changed; it’s also my clothes.

White furs cover my arms, my legs are encased in dark brown leather trousers, and furred boots are on my feet. My stomach roils. These are the clothes of the Issen. Why the hell am I in the clothes of the Issen?

‘Rettlings, welcome to the third trial.’

High Priestess Mila stands on a podium ten feet in front of us. She’s wearing a fur-lined version of a priestess’s robe, so thick it holds itself inches from her body.

‘You may be asking yourself where you are,’ she says. ‘Well, let me ease your curiosity. You are on the edges of Follen Lake.’

Follen Lake? Is she for real? That’s at least a five-day journey on horseback, if not longer. The amount of magic they must have used to get us here by portation is staggering.

Even dressed as I am, being wrenched from the warmth of the dining room to the aching cold here is shocking. My hands are covered with thick white gloves, but it doesn’t stop the tingle of ice from reaching my fingers. I close them around my mouth and try to breathe heat into them, but the temperature is so cold that the plume of breath nearly freezes in front of me.

This is as far north as I have ever been and it is the site of the battle where the Morathkians pushed the Issen back so they could save the land that wasn’t already frozen by their dark ice magic. The story of Follen Lake is one every child across the kingdom knows, but it’s not a tale of total victory.

The Morathkians believed they were on solid ground, only for the Issen to melt the very ground beneath their feet. Thousands of men plummeted into the water below, clawing helplessly at the sheet of ice that trapped them in what became their icy graves. Were it not for the grace of Etta and the strength of our magic, all would have perished. But by the Gods’ mercy, enough soldiers were saved to drive the Issen back to their lands behind the Coltan Mountains.

‘Your trial is simple,’ Mila continues, her smile sharp. ‘You merely have to cross this section of the lake.’

She gestures with her arm to the section in question, but there’s nothing to be seen but dense fog, ice, and snow. It’s going to be slippery.

The ice is probably thinner in places, and I suspect that the real challenge will be stopping ourselves from plunging into the freezing water.

I knew water would come into play at some point, but freezing water where I could get trapped under the ice?

I shudder involuntarily.

‘There is no time limit,’ she continues. ‘When the last living Rettling crosses to the other side, the trial will be over.’

Okay, so she definitely thinks some of us are going to die. Great.

‘Use whatever powers you have at your disposal. Nothing is prohibited. I may or may not see you on the other side. Etta’s blessings on you all.’

Like that, she’s gone.

None of us move. Or at least, no one that I can see.

We were spread out when they brought us here, all spaced about twenty-five feet apart. To my right, I can see Oke, and beyond her is Mattieu. Of course, those two get to be together. Mattieu is wearing the same furs and leathers as I am, whereas Oke is dressed in the furs of the standard Morathkian army uniform.

I press my hand against my thighs, hoping that by some miracle my dagger is concealed somewhere in my uniform, but all I find is a single nondescript blade. Still, I take it out and arm myself.

The cold air hitches in my breath when I see Kyor to my left. But there’s still no sign of Llinos, Benny, or Jonas. In a trial where I need powers, I’m away from the only people I’m certain will offer me help. Still, I edge towards the prince. I don’t know what is happening between us, but I know he’s powerful, and right now his magic might be the only thing to save me.

‘Any idea what we should do?’ I ask Kyor when I reach him. His army uniform is the same as the one Oke wears, but it fits him so perfectly I wouldn’t be surprised if he insisted he had fully tailored attire. ‘Since you’re the military leader and everything.’

‘No one ever comes to Follen Lake.’ He looks pale, his thumbs pressing into his palms in agitation. It makes my own stomach lurch. If even Kyor is nervous, then I’m truly fucked.

‘What are you like at holding mental wards?’ he asks.

I look at him flatly. ‘No magic, remember?’

He nods. ‘Right. Maybe that will help you. Just get your body across the finish line. You can worry about your mind afterwards.’

‘I didn’t figure you as someone for riddles,’ I reply as a gust of wind pushes the fog across the lake and causes fear to creep up my spine.

‘I’m not. Trust me.’

He’s opening his mouth to say more when a scream tears through the air.

‘What was that?’ I scour the area around me, but the fog is too dense and I can’t see much past where Oke stands.

‘Someone stepped on the ice. My guess is they woke the spirits. If you want to finish this thing, there’s only one way: make it to the other side.’ Kyor meets my eyes and his blue gaze pierces me. ‘Just keep walking, Thorn. I’ll stay as close as I can.’

With that, he takes his first step onto the ice.