Chapter 29
My ears ring in the silence that now smothers us.
I press my hand to one side of my head, then the other.
There’s no pain. Or rather, my ears are in no greater pain than the rest of my body.
My knees and elbows are grazed, and the taste of blood fills my mouth, but I’m on my feet, and that’s more than others.
Though those feet are unsteady. The reality of what I just faced – and survived – has left me listless and light-headed. Or maybe that’s the injuries.
Jonas is still on the ground, struggling to stand, while Llinos comforts Loch only feet away from Estel’s glassy-eyed body.
‘Benny!’ I call out, looking desperately around for any sign of our friend.
A voice booms out from the platform, halting my search.
‘Rettlings, you have survived your first trial.’
I lift my head, but only by reflex. I don’t want to listen to her. I want to find my friend.
But when I glance towards the platform, I see them standing beside her. Kyor, Grenda, and one of the Galreck Rettlings, Moryal. And there, at the very end … Benny. He’s propping himself up on the shoulder of one of the priestesses, but he’s there and very much alive.
Relief swamps me with such force that I drop to my knees.
‘Thank fuck,’ I mutter. My head falls forward as my chest shudders. They must have been removed from the trial the moment they dealt their fatal blow.
‘Now rest,’ Mila continues. ‘Rest and heal, for who knows when the Goddess will next call on you.’ With that, she, the other priestesses, and the sand timer all disappear.
When I finally drag myself back onto my feet, I head over to Jonas. Llinos is already there, helping him up. I move over to his other side and take his arm over my shoulder to balance his weight.
‘I’ve got you.’
‘What the hell did you think you were doing?’ he snaps. ‘Putting yourself at risk like that … I told you to run!’
My jaw drops. ‘You’re joking, right? I saved you.’
‘If I hadn’t pushed you out of the way, you’d—’
‘You’re angry because you’re in pain,’ I say, keeping my voice measured despite my annoyance at his lack of gratitude. ‘Come on. The sooner we get you in the carriage, the sooner we get you to the healers.’ I look at Llinos. ‘What’s Loch doing?’
He’s standing knee-deep in the water. It’s an act I could understand if Sanrott were his fealty God, but his sigils say otherwise.
‘I don’t know. Come on, let’s get Jonas to the carriage. Then I’ll go back for Loch.’
Conquering the sand dunes in our weakened state and with Jonas less than happy about all the help he needs isn’t exactly easy, and by the time we’ve got him in the carriage and Llinos returns to the beach, there’s no sign of Loch.
‘He must have got into another carriage,’ Llinos says after giving up her search and climbing in with Jonas and me.
The carriage is painfully empty. We should be happy that we made it through to the next stage, but it’s hard to celebrate when so many didn’t. The image of Estel’s body flying through the air fills my mind. Another image to add to the carousel of nightmares already stored in my head.
‘You were phenomenal, Rose.’ Llinos breaks the silence as the horses pull away. ‘The way you climbed that thing! Unbelievable.’
‘I’m glad I was able to use my abilities to climb and throw daggers, but I doubt I’m going to be so lucky in the trials that follow,’ I say truthfully.
She shrugs. ‘You never know, and you’ll also have the non-magical one at some point. And anyway, think about all the people with magic who didn’t survive.’
She’s right and I appreciate her optimism, but while I haven’t seen exactly who survived and who didn’t, it’s likely a few of the weaker Rettlings were lost. As such, I can almost guarantee that I’m now officially the runt of the group.
As I contemplate who else may or may not have made it, my mind flickers to Zara. What are the chances that she didn’t survive? I already know that Kyor did, but at least he’s now out of the second trial.
I fall asleep at some point and wake to the clatter of carriage doors opening. We are back in the eastern arc, where the healers are already waiting. And they’re not the only ones.
‘Thank the Gods.’ Caroline rushes to Llinos’s side and buries her head in her shoulder.
‘All Rettlings to the healers. All of you.’ It’s Zelle’s voice and hearing it causes a warmth I didn’t expect. His eyes catch mine and he offers a slight dip of his chin. It might be my imagination, but I’m pretty sure he looks pleased to see me among the living.
Unlike the majority of the people who stumble out of the carriages, I’m not entirely sure a trip to the healer is necessary.
Then again, I might be able to walk, but I’ve also got my fair share of cuts and bruises.
And maybe a couple of cracked ribs. There’s also the fact that I can’t hear anything out of my right ear.
Yeah, on second thought, a trip to the healers definitely wouldn’t hurt.
‘Sorry, you two.’ I place my hands on Caroline’s and Llinos’s shoulders. ‘Gonna have to break it up. I need help with Jonas.’
‘See you later,’ Caroline whispers as she tucks a strand of bloodied hair behind Llinos’s ear.
The healing hall is to the left of the dining room, and it’s been separated into two areas: those who need the most help, and those who need a quick once-over. Llinos and I get grouped together and are quickly whisked behind separate curtain dividers while Jonas is taken away.
‘I think it’s just bruised ribs,’ I tell the healer as he scans his hands over my body. ‘Oh, and my ear. I think it burst my eardrum when it yelled.’
The healer’s cheeks pinch inwards as he mutters something to himself. Even with both working ears, I’m not sure I’d have worked out what he said, only that it isn’t positive.
No more words are exchanged between us as the tingling of his magic ripples over my skin.
I close my eyes and bask in the sensation.
It’s like pressing my palm to the temple door to see Dinah or feeling the spell Jonas placed on my door.
I just wish it were my own magic causing it, not someone else’s.
‘You’re good,’ the healer says as he withdraws his hands from me.
‘Great. Thank you.’
He looks at my blood-soaked clothes. ‘You should bathe and then fetch yourself something to eat. And then rest,’ he suggests. ‘Who knows when they’ll call the next trial.’
As I clamber to my feet, my stomach churns. There are a lot more healers than usual. Are they here merely because they knew the injuries from the jotnar would be significant or for some other reason? Like we need to recover quickly because we’re going to be expected to fight again soon. Very soon.
The healer’s right. Now that they’ve started, they could call the next one at any moment. Maybe they’ll cram the other four trials in right at the end of the four moons, or maybe they’ll be kind and spread them out evenly so we have time to recover. Something tells me it won’t be the latter.
‘Thank you,’ I say before turning and heading through the curtain, only to collide with a wall.
Or at least what I think is a wall, until I step back and find myself staring at a chest. Kyor’s chest.
As I glance up towards his face, he looks down at me with a repulsed expression.
‘So you made it.’ I can’t tell if it’s disappointment or surprise in his tone.
‘It would appear so,’ I respond drily.
As the silence swells between us, uncomfortable and heavy, I assess his current state and conclude that he must have been healed first, because there’s not a mark on him.
His blue sigils remain perfectly painted on his face and a wolf stole sits around his shoulders.
He’s still dressed for battle, and if he went for me now, if he took his vengeance for my mother’s false ‘failure,’ I couldn’t possibly stop him. I have nothing left.
He evidently reads the thoughts on my face and clicks his tongue in exasperation. ‘I’m not going to cut you down when you can barely stand. I have honour.’
Anger rises, hot and sudden, and I shake my head in pure disbelief at him. ‘Honour? You absolute fuck. Even now, you think you were justified in what you did.’
His face hardens. ‘Your mother had one job to do,’ he snarls. ‘To help bring the baby into the world and make sure my mother lived.’
‘That’s two jobs, asshole. But you were right the first time. She did have one job to do. It was to do what the queen asked of her. My mother sadly couldn’t save them both. Why don’t you understand that? If she could have, she would have. It’s that simple.’
‘She could have tried harder!’ The words burst from him, the protestation sounding like that of a small boy. ‘She just … stopped.’
‘She stopped when your mother told her to. When your mother – the queen – told her to save the baby instead.’
My teeth grind, my jaw locked so tight it aches.
‘My mother had no choice. If she had let the queen live and lost the baby, she would have gone against the direct command of a monarch. She would have been dead then as well. So she did what she was told to do. She tried to save the child.’ My throat stutters.
Tried. That’s the word that chokes me.
That’s the reason Korvane Knavin didn’t just strip us of our powers but also murdered my baby brother. He claimed it was recompense for his lost son.
But no matter how strong their magic is, the fact is that healers can’t save everyone. The powers of life and death remain in the Gods’ hands alone.
‘Kill me or don’t,’ I spit out, ‘but either way, stop lying to yourself – if you’re even capable of that.’
With that, I turn and stalk away, anger propelling strength into my weakened limbs.
When I reach the dining hall, the smells wafting up from the kitchen below suggest something special is being prepared tonight. Something to celebrate the fact that we are still alive.
Dinner will be the first time I get to see exactly how many people we lost to the jotnar, and tomorrow night we’ll have the ball to celebrate.
We should be given time to grieve, to commemorate the lost ones, but that’s not the way this works. You celebrate surviving and try to forget those who didn’t. In that way, it’s remarkably like the slums. Life and death are in a constant unrelenting cycle.
Despite the conflict, my heart lightens at the thought that Kay might be able to come with Lord Lorathin to the ball, which means I might actually get to speak to her.
Another positive. Another reason not to look back and dwell on death.
It’s something my father taught me, however inadvertently – that dwelling on death only ruins more lives.
I head upstairs to the dorm, continuing up the rusting spiral staircase to my little abode.
There’s a definite quiet that wasn’t here before.
There’s no clatter of swords in the battle yard.
No laughter rattling from the dorms. At some point, there will be few enough Rettlings left for everyone to have their own rooms. I wonder if other people have already thought of that.
I’m sure Shim and Elenor would be happy to get a room for themselves, not to mention Llinos and Caroline.
Another unanticipated positive from death. It’s twisted, that’s for sure.
Despite the efforts of the healer, exhaustion hits heavy and hard, and I’m planning on taking his advice and spending the time between now and dinner sleeping. But when I reach the landing, I find my doorway blocked.
‘Benny?’ I say in worry. His face is ashen. ‘Are you all right?’
‘I did something, Rose.’ His hands are both clasped around the back of his neck, seemingly working at a knot there. ‘I did something I’m not sure you’re going to be able to forgive me for.’