CHAPTER 5
WHERE THE CURRENT TAKES US
Where two rivers meet, the current that flows on is stronger than either alone.
– Water-worshipper proverb
Kara climbed down from the podium to find Alys already waiting outside the maze entrance.
“Your team came first?” Kara asked.
Alys beamed. “We’ve only been back five minutes. You’re second.”
Her team would score three out of four points then.
Not bad.
“Henry was surprisingly useful.” Alys grinned. “We had two riddles. Wouldn’t have got past them without him.”
Henry overheard and gave Kara a self-conscious smile. She returned it without thinking.
“Did you have to heal anyone?” Kara asked.
Alys frowned. “No, why?”
“We had collapsing floors, walls that almost crushed us, and a stone monster try and kill us. Jax ended up with a fractured skull.”
Alys’s eyes widened. “Gods above. We didn’t have anything like that. Just puzzles and those riddles. Is Jax alright?”
Kara nodded. “He’s fine.”
Jax was sulking openly now he’d realised they’d come second. Oryen launched into analysis, retracing their steps aloud and Sebastian stared at the scoreboard, disappointment written across his face. Gregor didn’t speak at all.
Morra was more positive. “Still three more to go, we can make up one point easily.”
Kara smiled at that.
The third team emerged much later, looking shaken.
Their Thorne delegate’s hands were bloodied and raw.
The last team came out at a run, two of them carrying a third between them – their Durent delegate judging from the amber cloak that dangled down from his limp form.
Thomel was running by his side, hands glowing emerald, but the man’s head was still bleeding profusely.
Thomel’s magic was stuttering, not catching.
Head wounds were notoriously difficult, every healer knew that.
Even harder under pressure. She made to move forward, but Arcalon healers were already there, strong emerald wrapping around the Durent man’s body. Thomel looked mortified.
Uneasy glances and concerned murmurs passed through the crowd as the Durent man was taken to the healing tents. The High Council said nothing. Just watched from their box. The Durent lord, Merrick, at least had the grace to look concerned.
An Arcalon official stepped forward. “The Water Trial will take place at the river at the fourth bell. You are dismissed.”
Kara’s team headed straight to the river that surrounded Vallenna City in silence, finding a spot under a large beech tree by the starting line.
Four wooden longboats were bobbing in the water behind them.
Crowds lined both banks already, the air buzzing with anticipation and the smell of grilled meat and something sweet Kara couldn’t place.
Jax smiled broadly. “Now, this is more my speed.”
Morra passed around thick slices of oat-honey bread, still warm.
Kara shared her nut cakes from home with Sienna.
Gregor didn’t eat at all – grunted something about waiting until the trial was over.
Jax had brought a jar of spiced fish paste from Navyr, which Sebastian loudly refused, instead eating a rather insane amount of meat and bread.
“Crimson makes you hungry,” he said in response to her raised eyebrow at his third portion.
“I didn’t say anything,” Kara said.
“Your face did.”
They spent the rest of the afternoon guessing what the trial would include, all concerned with how dangerous it would be, the memory of the unconscious Durent man pressing heavy.
“Last year,” Kara said, “We had to find water sigils in the river. First to five won.”
“I didn’t watch last year,” Jax said. “I was on the trade route to Occarlia.”
“Me neither,” Sebastian said, lying beneath the tree’s shade, not bothering to open his eyes. Kara noted, with irritation, that his salve had eased most of the swelling. Relaxed like this he looked almost... tolerable. Kara frowned at herself.
Jax laughed. “Right. You weren’t even in Vallenna, were you?” he said to Sebastian. “Out freezing your arse off in the Ice Lands? Or was it cutting down rebels in the Southern Isles?”
“The Isles.”
“They say you’re the fastest blade in Vallenna.” Jax grinned wickedly. “Tell me that’s not the same reputation you have with women?”
Sebastian’s eyes flew open and a flush crept into his cheeks.
His hand tightened reflexively on the grass beside him.
He looked utterly at a loss. Kara had never seen him rattled before – a laugh burst out of her at the sight.
Sebastian turned his glare on her instantly, as though she had betrayed him, but it only made her laugh more.
“I heard that poor innkeeper’s daughter in Port Cerula hasn’t recovered,” Jax continued.
Sebastian smirked. “She didn’t complain.”
Kara stopped laughing.
Gregor leaned forward, his gaze narrowing. “Not just quick. Ruthless, I heard.”
A tension appeared in Sebastian’s shoulders and something dark passed over his face, but it was gone so fast she almost thought she’d imagined it. His smile returned, sharper than before. “Sounds like they exaggerate,” he said. “Don’t believe everything you hear.”
“Modest, too. Gods save us,” Jax said, helping himself to more honey bread.
The rest of them chuckled – Thornes usually boasted of their victories.
Gregor wasn’t laughing. Neither was Kara.
They both watched him closely. Sebastian’s hand had shifted, pushing his sleeves higher, rubbing at the skin there.
His forearms were a map of battle scars – old and new.
All those years she’d spent healing wounds, and he’d spent the same time collecting them.
And Gregor’s word – ruthless – had struck a chord.
Oryen turned to Jax, interested. “So you’ve been on the trade route to Occarlia?”
Jax shrugged. “Yeah. We cross the Eastern reach for the end of summer trade. They pay a good price for Vallennan goods. Particularly Thorne steel.” He nodded towards Sebastian. “It’s worth the sail.”
“What’s it like?” Oryen asked.
“Couldn’t say, to tell you the truth,” Jax replied. “We’re only allowed to dock at one port and we’re told to keep to the ship – I’ve never actually set foot on their land.” He looked eastwards, wistful. “Very private people the Occarli.”
“I’m not surprised,” Oryen said seriously. “They shut everyone out during the Dark War, and they’ve not opened their doors since. Don’t blame them really. Time magic is dangerous in the wrong hands.”
“Yeah.” Jax shrugged. “It’s not like I’d try to use it. Vallenna made an oath. It’s forbidden. I respect it. I just want to see it.”
“I’d like to as well,” Oryen admitted.
“I heard they can trap memories in bottles,” Jax told him. “Relive them. Actually relive them – not just remember.”
Oryen listened raptly, drinking in every detail and soon the two of them were deep in conversation, laughing over far-flung lands and odd customs.
“Well, I watched last year’s Water Trial, came with my son,” Morra said, her focus on Kara. “The sigils glowed the closer you got to them. Beautiful, but not exactly hard. Something tells me it’s not going to be that easy this year.”
“Not if the Earth Trial is anything to go by,” Kara agreed. “I wish I knew why the Council has allowed this.”
Morra nodded seriously. “They want to see strength, unity. I understand that but... what happened in that maze is something else. And no one will walk away, no matter how dangerous it gets. Who would dare? To drop out is to shame your House, your team. The Council have given us no choice.”
Sebastian made a noise that could have been agreement. Or a scoff. Kara wasn’t sure.
A distant bell tolled. Once. Twice. Four times.
Oryen straightened. “That’s the call.”
They moved to their boat, waiting for the order to board.
Across the bank, the High Council took their seats.
Her father passed her a tight smile. Kara was relieved to see the Durent delegate from Team One approach his own boat, fully healed.
He was in company with a dark-haired Lyran girl, both with matching looks of determination.
Thomel walked behind the pair, his gaze fixed on the ground.
Henry and the rest of his team followed behind.
Don’t bow. Please don’t bow. God of Air, if you’re listening–
Her expression must have betrayed her because Sebastian was already watching her, chuckling to himself.
“Heads up, Lady Hale,” he said under his breath. “Your loyal knight approaches. Might want to curtsy.”
Kara shot him a glare. “Keep talking, Thorne, and I’ll push you overboard.”
He huffed a laugh. “I’d like to see you try.”
A hush fell amongst the crowd as the Fatàn judge got to her feet.
“Water is your next trial. A race. But be warned, this river is fast flowing and holds challenges you do not yet know,” the judge explained. “The first team to return will score the highest. You may board your vessels.”
The longboats each had one seat at the front for the rudder and six oars, three on each side. Naturally, Jax took the helm as the others filed in.
“Sebastian, swap sides with Morra – balance the weight,” he instructed, clearly in his element.
Sebastian obeyed without question, taking the position behind Kara.
She half expected some quip or sarcastic comment but none came.
Just steely focus. Gregor, Sienna, and Morra were now on the right; Kara, Sebastian, and Oryen on the left.
Jax gave a sharp nod of approval. “Right. Grab your oars. Plant your feet. Tight grip. Be ready.”
Kara took hold of her oar, hearing the others do the same around her.
It was Lord Elias Lyra who rose from his Council seat this time, cloaked all in violet, his long blonde hair falling loose around his kind face. “When I raise this torch,” he said, gesturing to the flame he held, “you may begin.”
The river surged beneath them. Kara gripped her oar tighter. With one smooth motion, Elias raised it high.
And they were off.
Their oars hit the water with an almighty splash, Jax calling the strokes. “Row. One. Two.”