I move to stand, only to stop.

Kyor stands looking at me in total disbelief. ‘I came back to help you,’ he says. ‘What the fuck did you do?’

Fear floods through me as any hint of relief I felt evaporates, gone like the cracks in the ice. His lips parted, Kyor stares at me unblinking. I don’t know how much he saw of what I did, but I know he saw something. The fucking Prince of Morathka just witnessed me harness the one type of magic utterly forbidden in our lands. And using it carries a death penalty.

Is this it? Is this where he kills me? Will he use lightning or good old-fashioned blades? Blade, I’d guess, as lightning would crack the ice. As he glances down to his side and pulls out his dagger, I’m certain I’m right. But as I steel myself against his impending attack, he turns the blade around and hands it to me.

‘Take this and hold on to it. And whatever the fuck it is you just did … no one can know. They’ll kill you if they do.’

‘Kyor. I … I …’ I don’t know what else to say. I know I was there, but it wasn’t my magic. It couldn’t have been. Whatever that spectral Issen did, that’s on him, not me. If it even happened the way I think it did. After all, the whole point of the trial is to make us see things that aren’t truly there.

‘You did what you had to do.’ His voice is commanding, controlling. The voice he uses in battle with his men, perhaps. ‘You did whatever you needed to do to survive.’

‘I didn’t … It wasn’t me.’

He presses his lips together.

My chest twists and I can see he doesn’t believe me, but how can I know what he even saw? All I know is that whatever happened, however Oke died, I don’t have the magic to do that. So why does it feel like her blood is on my hands?

Kyor’s voice cuts through the cacophony of my thoughts. ‘Let’s get to the end of this thing. Together.’

We walk in silence, the rain dripping from our furs. The voices don’t have the same impact they did before. Maybe it’s the image of Oke’s dying face that fills my mind and blocks them out. Or perhaps the Issen spectres have decided I’m no longer worth their effort. Either way, I’ll take it.

More than once, I turn to Kyor to see if he’s watching me with distrust, but he never is. We trudge on for what feels like hours in the biting cold, the wind almost cutting my skin.

But then, in the distance, I see the blue of the priestesses’ robes and the silhouettes of the Rettlings who’ve already made it. A minute later and the silhouettes become people. Llinos and Benny.

My heart leaps at the sight of them, but as I quicken my pace to get to them, Kyor grabs me by the top of my arm and holds me firm.

‘You can’t tell them,’ he whispers urgently. ‘I don’t care how much you think you trust them or whatever you believe happened. I watched you make a sword out of ice and there is only one group of people who can do that. You can’t tell them, Rose. Not unless you want to risk being put to death.’

The way he’s looking at me is pure desperation, and the use of my name makes his advice hit harder. For the longest time, I would have sworn that he was the one not to trust. Yet he’s trained me for weeks on end without once trying to truly harm me, and he’s just saved my life. The time has come to make a choice. Either I trust him or I don’t.

And I find that I do.

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Chapter 49

The last part of the journey off the lake takes us up a shingle bank. My feet slip on the black silt until I finally reach the ridge and drop down onto the hard stones. A sob stutters from my lips as someone hands me some water. I drink greedily, not even having the strength to thank – or even notice – whoever gave it to me.

It’s only when Llinos takes a seat beside me that I speak. ‘What are we meant to do now?’ I ask.

‘Wait, I think.’

So that’s what we do. We wait on the hard shingle, staring out at the forest of fog in front of us. Watching as the rain stops. Waiting for the moment the priestess tells us that it’s over, that there are no more living people left on the ice battlefield. But for now, I have hope and I’m refusing to let go of it. I can’t. Jonas is still out there.

‘How long has it been since the last person returned?’

I’ve asked the same question several times already and Benny and Llinos have alternated replying. But this time, I’m met with silence. I would almost prefer the voice back in my head to this. Almost. Still, I need an answer. ‘How long?’ I press.

‘I don’t know … maybe twenty minutes?’ Llinos’s voice is low. Solemn. ‘Seiren was the last. Rose, I know you don’t want to hear this, but maybe you need to prepare yourself.’

‘He’s still out there,’ I reply stubbornly. There is some spell keeping the cold at bay, but still I can’t seem to get warm.

Jonas. Jonas is the only member of our group who hasn’t returned. Jonas, who has tried everything he can to keep me safe. Who begged me, again and again, to not put myself at risk. And he didn’t once cross my mind when I was on the ice. The thought that he might not make it is unfathomable.

‘People are still alive.’ I don’t let a hint of doubt enter my voice. ‘If they weren’t, the priestesses would’ve taken us back to Wrohelm already. Jonas is still alive. I know he is.’

A prickle of static acts as a reminder that Kyor is standing only a few feet behind me, though whether it was his intention or not for me to feel it, I don’t know. I’m pretty sure he hasn’t stopped staring at me this entire time, as if he’s terrified that I’m suddenly going to send out a bolt of ice and expose myself. I’m not saying I won’t. But it won’t be deliberate if I do.

‘We’re done here. Why are we waiting? There’s no one alive out there now. They’ll have frozen to death. This is a waste of our time.’ Zara’s voice cuts through the fog and I hate her for it. Her friends haven’t returned, and unlike me, Zara doesn’t know for certain that they’re dead. The fact that she would just give up and move on with life … if I didn’t hate her before, I do now.

‘How many people haven’t returned?’ Llinos asks.

‘Nine, including Jonas,’ Benny replies.

‘And we only know for certain that at least one of them is still alive.’

‘Theoretically, it could be all nine,’ Benny says, trying to be optimistic, but we all know that isn’t true. I do, anyway. Because I saw two of them die. That means the most it could be is seven. But then I think of that first scream before I even stepped on the ice. Did that Rettling survive? It doesn’t feel likely. That would make it six. Six possible lives out there. And Jonas isn’t the only one I care about. While Seiren made it, there has been no sign of Kestria.

As the silence resumes, I consider telling them that Oke and Mattieu are dead, but I don’t. Maybe because I’m worried that if I say that, then someone else will feel it’s okay to say they saw Jonas or Kestria die too. And that’s not something I can cope with hearing. I can’t.

‘How many are left? How many are alive on the ice?’ I turn to find that Kyor has finally stopped keeping vigil over me and is standing in front of Mila. Even with the priestess standing on a platform, Kyor is tall enough to look her in the eye, although she barely acknowledges his presence.

‘I know you know,’ Kyor continues bluntly. ‘At least have the decency to tell us that.’

Her lips curl. ‘The Great Goddess will let us know her chosen soon, I’m sure.’

Her chosen. The comment makes me nauseous. If that really is the case and only those Etta chooses to survive are making it past these trials, then what does that say about me?

I close my eyes because I’m not here in this moment because Etta chose me. I’m here because Kyor stopped me from doing something very stupid with my dagger. And because some spectre called me ‘daughter’ and told me to ask him for help, and then, according to the prince, I made a fucking ice sword appear from thin air and saved myself from Oke.