‘Rose.’ Just the sound of my name spoken in Dinah’s soft tone is enough to stir memories.

I turn to find her framed by ivy, and her smile holds me immobile for a breath. It is so joyous, so full of love, that some cold part of me thaws just a little. Her eyes, though, have shadows of hurt and regret.

It pains her to see me. I knew it would. But I had no other choice.

Dinah steps forward wordlessly, cups my cheek, and then whispers in my ear, ‘My darling Rose. You’re the very image of your mother.’

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Chapter 6

Dinah looks as unchanged as ever. The pearlescent hooded blue cape she wears is the same shimmering shade as the opalescent stone embedded in her forehead, just above her brow line. The stonebinding is the last stage of becoming a priestess, and the power that resonates through the gem comes from their chosen God, giving them magic that is said to be far greater than anything the rest of us possess.

‘Rose, my dear child,’ Dinah murmurs. Tears fill her eyes as she runs her hand over my white-blonde hair then grasps me by the shoulders as if she’s trying to assess how much weight I’ve lost since I last saw her. That’s the main reason I’ve kept my distance. It’s hard to pretend you’re doing okay when every time you meet it looks like more muscle has melted from your frame.

‘Tell me it’s a mistake,’ she says when she finally lets me go. ‘Please, Rose. Tell me you didn’t enter.’

‘I did, and the Goddess accepted me.’ I smile a little in pride, but Dinah closes her eyes and mutters to herself.

‘She did,’ she says eventually, opening her eyes and looking at me, her mouth tight. ‘And the Goddess always has her reasons.’

I force my smile to remain in place. I hate that line. Really fucking hate it.

The Goddess had her reasons. That was what Dinah said after my family’s magic was stripped. She said the words with conviction, but as my mother struggled and grew sicker, and my father began to drink himself towards a premature reunion with my brother, that conviction was tested. Every visit, the darkness in her eyes and the worry that clouded her became more acute. She loved our mother and had raised her in the temple as a daughter. And so I witnessed the way it became harder and harder for her to say to us that the Goddess had her reasons. Dinah gave her life to the service of Etta, and it was as though our diminishment was making her doubt that choice.

‘I’ll be fine, Dinah.’ My eyes are unblinking as I speak so that she can see how firmly I believe the words I’m saying. ‘I promise. I may not have magic, but I have skills.’

And it’s true. I’m not completely helpless. There may not be much room for axe swinging and practising with full-length swords in the slums, but daggers are a different matter. I started training with knives as a way to vent my frustration over my mother’s death as much as anything else. I took the thin blades we used to skin rabbits – back when we could still afford to buy meat – and began hurling them at targets. Short distances at first, just across the room into the wooden beams that held up our roof, then stretching the length between me and my target further and further.

‘Dinah, it’s not me I’m worried about,’ I say, steering the conversation towards the first of the two reasons I’ve come. ‘It’s Acacia.’

Dinah’s expression remains pinched with concern, but she doesn’t speak.

‘I need her out of the slums,’ I say. ‘At least while I’m in the tournament. I need to know she is safe, or I won’t be able to focus. Besides, you know they only get the information second-hand out there. She’ll be a wreck if she doesn’t even know if I’m alive.’ Assuming I am still alive. ‘I need you to reach out to Lord Artur Lorathin.’

‘Artur?’ Her expression tightens further. ‘His son’s also been chosen, has he not?’

‘He has. Meaning he will understand the fear that Kay faces. He’s a good man. I’m sure he will see to it that she’s taken into one of the inner rings where she can watch my progress more closely. Will you do that for me?’

Dinah does not immediately reply and I can almost hear her mind whirring.

‘I will speak to him,’ she says shortly, eyes still dark with worry. ‘Rose, the others… they will have powers, all of them. And they know how to fight. Every day they train to kill.’

I stifle a snort. ‘No one fights harder than someone who lives in the slums and knows what life is like outside of it,’ I tell her. ‘Believe me. And one day I will have powers too. Once I win and have what was taken from us returned.’ I let out a reluctant sigh as her eyes pinch in familiar pity. ‘I’m not being naïve, Dinah. I know what I’m going up against. I know how hard they fight, and I know this will be ugly, but I also know that none of them need to win the gifting the way I do. Besides, powers are not allowed in all the trials.’

‘One,’ she bites back. ‘They’re not allowed to use their powers in one of the trials. They can be freely used in the other four.’

‘I know the odds are stacked against me, but Etta chose me. She chose me, Dinah. Weak, stripped, powerless me.’ My gaze locks on hers. ‘As you are so fond of saying, the Goddess has her reasons.’

Dinah’s the only priestess I would ever dare speak to in such a manner, but she has always been more of a grandmother figure to me. A very slow-ageing grandmother.

‘Kay is not the only reason I’ve come,’ I say, keen to get to the other favour I seek before she has to leave. ‘I need a weapon. I don’t know what they will have there or if we will be able to take one from King Korvane’s armoury. Is there any chance you have something I may use?’

Her lips press tightly together. ‘I am sure I will be able to find something,’ she replies, then continues without pausing for breath, ‘I am going away tomorrow. Heading to the North. I will ensure Artur gets your message before I leave.’

‘The North?’ I question. That seems like a very vague description. If she were heading to one of the Northern Morathkian cities – Rowell or Dorain – she would have named it.

My nerves twist. Unless… she’s heading up the Hirathean Pass, towards Agoyd? I would rather she travel anywhere else than there. No ground in the kingdom has drunk more blood than the land south of the Coltan Mountains.

‘It should only be for a few days,’ she says, ignoring my question, though her response eases my fears slightly. It takes at least three days to reach Galreck, and that is only part of the way to Agoyd.

She continues, looking heartsore, ‘I will be gone for your vows, and it’s likely I’ll still be absent for the first trial, but I should have returned by the second. Please, Rose, stay alive until then.’

A smile curls my lips. ‘I’m definitely going to try.’

She reciprocates with a smile so fleeting I almost miss it.

‘Wait here,’ she says. ‘I will be one moment.’

Without waiting for me to reply, she turns her back and strides through the solid stone wall as though it offers no more resistance than mist. This was her gift before she took her vows to the Goddess, but I’ve always struggled to work out which God or Goddess granted it.

A warmth spreads through me as I recall Dinah telling me how, as soon as my mother learned to walk, she tried to mimic everything the priestess did. Which meant that when Dinah passed through walls, my mother attempted the same. Unsurprisingly, the bruises piled up quickly.

Dinah takes longer to return than I expected, and I wait nervously. When she steps back through the stone, her arms are laden with a large packet wrapped in hessian. The bundle is so high that her head is barely visible above it. There’s no chance that’s all weapons.

‘Clothes,’ she says, answering my unasked question. ‘I suspect they are years out of fashion, but if tradition stands, then the palace will host balls to mark the stages of the trials, and you will be expected to attend. Of course, if you have more fitting clothes, then please give these away.’