Chapter 50
As soon as we return to the High Hold we take Jonas and Kestria to the healers. They aren’t the only two who need help, but the others can all walk there themselves.
‘The healers don’t think they can get her sight back,’ Benny murmurs to Llin and me as we eat dinner that night. Not that any of us have much of an appetite. Thankfully, my dagger was where I left it when I disappeared, and it is now safely tucked in its sheath and secured to my person once more.
‘You went down there?’ Llin asks Benny in surprise.
‘I just … I needed to do something.’
I get it. Helplessness is a feeling I’m more used to than most. Nights spent in the slums when I couldn’t remember the last time I ate. When our bodies were so cold I was scared Kay or I might go to sleep and never wake up. I felt hopeless then, too.
The hall is all but empty, and the quiet is unnerving. We’re officially down to sixteen. Sixteen Rettlings will compete in the penultimate trial. Eighty percent of us are dead or at least assumed dead. Looking at the numbers like that, every minute longer I’m here feels like a miracle.
‘But it was magic that caused Kestria’s condition,’ I respond. ‘Surely magic can erase it.’
‘They’ve tried everything they can and none of it’s worked. They’re out of options, which means she’s out of the Retterheld.’
Silence descends again and I push a piece of meat around my plate. A month and a half ago I would have wept to see food like this. Now I can barely swallow.
‘Have you seen Jonas yet?’ Benny breaks the silence with a question I feel ashamed to answer.
‘No, not yet. I was going to go down to the healers after this.’
We’ve been back for hours, and I know I should have been down there already.
If it were the other way around, I’m sure Jonas would have camped at the end of my bed until I was ready to talk.
The very least I can do is not abandon him now, when he needs me.
But it’s hard to face his pain over blinding a woman when I killed one.
‘You won’t find him with the healers,’ Benny confirms. ‘They let him out. A couple of hours ago, I think.’
‘What?’ The word comes out far louder than I expected. ‘Why?’
‘Because he’s okay, I guess.’
‘Okay?’ My jaw drops. ‘He tried to stay out on the ice. He was on all fours, metres from the finish, ready to give up and die. We had to drag him in, even when he was physically fine. That’s not okay.’
Benny looks down. ‘I meant physically okay,’ he mumbles as I stand. Any cowardice I felt at avoiding my own frailties is gone as I march upstairs to find Jonas.
The really stupid thing is, I don’t actually know where Jonas’s room is. Whenever he wanted to talk, he either waited outside my door or we slipped off during training. Still, there aren’t that many of us left, and many rooms are empty, so it doesn’t take too long to find him.
I knock on the door, open it when I don’t hear an answer and then knock again when I step inside, in the hope it’ll alert him to my presence. Yet he doesn’t even turn, his gaze fixed out of the window.
‘Jonas?’
He jerks like he’s just had a dagger drawn at his throat.
‘Rose, what are you doing here?’
‘I came to see if you were okay. Why else?’
He bites his lip, and for the first time since I arrived at the High Hold, I’m struck by a startling realisation that, with each trial, it gets less and less likely that both of us are going to make it to the end.
‘She won’t ever get her sight back,’ he says quietly. ‘There’s nothing they can do.’
‘There’s nothing they can do at the minute,’ I reply firmly, taking a seat next to him.
‘Maybe they’ll find something later. And there are other healers in Morathka, in Rowell, Dorain, and Galreck.
We don’t know what they’re capable of.’ My hand hovers above his knee, unsure whether I should actually touch him.
But I realise he needs it. He needs physical reassurance.
When my hand rests on his thigh, he finally turns to look at me.
‘Jonas, I know that whatever happened, it was an accident. I know you didn’t mean to hurt her.’
‘I should’ve seen.’ He falters, his gaze shifting down again. ‘I should’ve been able to tell it was her, not one of them. I should’ve known from the screaming.’
‘You weren’t the only one who couldn’t tell.
Mattieu was going to kill Oke.’ I take a deep breath.
‘It was … insane. I nearly …’ I trail off, not wanting to confess what I nearly did to myself, what I would have done but for Kyor stopping me.
Still, Jonas needs the truth, at least some of it, and I hope it will shock him out of this funk to know he isn’t the only one carrying guilt.
‘I killed Oke, and I’m not even sure how.
And believe me, that doesn’t make it any better. ’
He looks at me again, this time with real shock in his eyes.
‘You killed Oke?’
I could have done without the incredulity.
‘Rose,’ he breathes as he reaches for my hand, but I gently shake it away.
‘I didn’t want to do it,’ I say firmly, for myself as much as for him. ‘I was trying to save her. The spirits got to Mattieu, and she was spiralling too.’
Memories surge: the scream, the ice, and the power that shouldn’t have been possible for me to channel. However much we’re sharing in this moment, I have no intention of telling him about that.
‘I don’t blame myself for doing what had to be done. And you shouldn’t blame yourself either.’
He breathes out again in a long sigh. ‘It’s easy for you to say. You killed Oke, yes, but she tried to kill you … how many times? What did Kestria ever do to deserve what I did to her?’
‘Nothing,’ I admit softly. ‘But what did Coulter do to deserve what happened to him at the temple? What did Estel do to deserve her death? These trials … it would be great if the good people finished on top, and though I wish things were that simple, they’re just not.’
‘She’s a good person. She’s … she’s …’ He shakes his head, letting the words fade.
My heart aches for him because he’s right. Kestria is a good person, and this whole thing just sucks. There was a time when I thought the Retterheld would be a glorious event full of redemption and hope and camaraderie, but it isn’t. It’s dark and insidious and it’s killing us all, one by one.
I take a shuddering breath. ‘Jonas. I don’t know why some of us have survived and some haven’t. I really don’t. But you’re not a bad person. What happened today doesn’t change that.’
He huffs as he presses his lips tightly together. ‘There are things about me, Rose. Things you’d hate me for if you knew.’
‘I doubt it.’ I place my hand over his. ‘Jonas, I know you. And if you really have done something that terrible, then whatever it is, I’m sure it’s because you didn’t have a choice.’
His chin dips in the tiniest of nods, and for the first time, it feels like I’m reaching him.
‘I’m starting to believe you, Rose.’ He meets my gaze, but it’s only when he lifts a hand towards the side of my face that I realise what he’s going to do.
He’s going to kiss me again.
‘Jonas …’
‘You don’t want this?’ he asks softly.
I don’t. But I see the hope in his eyes. The last thing he needs is rejection today. If I tell him no, I could send him back into the pit of despair he’s been wallowing in.
So I manage a smile. ‘Not here. Not now.’
He nods. ‘Right person. Wrong time?’ he says hopefully.
‘Something like that.’ My chest tightens. I hate that I might be leading him on, even a little, but the truth is, I don’t want his lips on mine. I want Kyor’s.
I stand and gently remove my hand from his. ‘Get some sleep, Jonas. We’ve still got two trials. We’re going to get through them. Together.’
With that, I kiss the top of his head and leave the room.
There’s someone else I need to see tonight.
More than once I’ve wondered where Kyor’s room is.
I know he’s way too much of a stickler for rules not to be sleeping in the barracks, so though he’s not in the dorm rooms, I’m certain he’s nearby.
Given his absence upstairs and his affinity for the basement kitchen, as evidenced by our multiple run-ins there, I’ve concluded that he must be somewhere downstairs.
Betting on my hunch, I head down to the kitchens and find several of the cooks working over the stoves.
‘I’m looking for Prince Kyor,’ I say.
They exchange a look that tells me I was right. He is down here somewhere.
‘I just want to talk to him. I’m a … friend.’
The word chokes my throat. Of all the things we are, we’re not that. I have zero platonic feelings for the prince.
‘It’s fine, ladies. She can come through.’ His voice carries from the far end of the kitchen where he stands by a door. He pushes it wide open before stepping to the side. My own royal invitation.
Butterflies swarm through me, most likely trying to make me see sense, but I ignore them as I offer the cooks a brief smile of thanks and slip through the door. As it shuts behind me, I tell myself the roaring in my blood is from apprehension and nothing else.
There are no windows, given that it’s in the basement, but the lamps offer more than enough light to see by.
It’s a simple room. No decorations, nothing to soften the stone-grey walls, but the bed is a damn sight larger than the ones we’ve been subjected to upstairs.
Yet despite the scarcity, the space somehow still looks well lived-in, with books stacked high, clothes draped over chairs, and a wardrobe with its doors open.
This doesn’t look like a room that’s been occupied just for the weeks of the trials.
‘This has always been my hideaway,’ he explains casually. ‘Close to food, away from my father. Win-win.’
My eyes fall on the desk in the corner of the room, its surface covered with scattered paper and charcoal. Silently, I move over to it, and a breath of surprise snags in my throat at what I find.
‘Elska.’ There is no mistaking the image. Even in black and white, the two tones of her eyes and ringed irises have been captured perfectly. I move to see the paper underneath, but he catches me by the wrist and tidies the sketches away.
‘Did you do these?’
He offers a casual lift of one shoulder. ‘It passes the time.’
I turn to look at him. ‘What are you going to do?’ I ask. ‘About everything. About me.’
He takes a step forward. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ he says, his voice low. ‘We were on the battlefield. It was … difficult. Ice, fire, ghosts, flying daggers. I saw nothing.’
He takes another step towards me. He’s so close now, his chest only inches from mine. My heart hammers behind my ribs.
‘So is that why you came here?’ he asks. ‘To see what I saw?’
‘It’s one of the reasons.’
‘And the other?’
There is no smirk on his lips. None of the usual playful teasing.
My breathing is growing shallower. I try to find the force to resist the inevitable, but do I want to?
No, I don’t. That’s the truth. I don’t want to fight it anymore.
This is what I’ve wanted since that night in the temple all those weeks ago.
‘I seem to have forgotten the other reason I came here.’ My voice is barely a whisper.
‘I don’t think that’s true,’ he replies. ‘I think you know exactly what you want. I told you. If you want it, you only have to ask.’
I remember. Of course I remember. But it’s a line that, once crossed, there’ll be no coming back from.
I wet my lips. ‘I want it,’ I breathe.
He smiles. ‘Good girl. You’re going to be mine,’ he promises. ‘Say it.’
‘Yours,’ I stutter out.
‘That’s right.’ He moves closer until there’s barely anything between us and I’m backed up against the wall. He slides his fingers into my hair and fists it in his hand, causing a moan to slip from my lips. His eyes darken, and his restraint snaps.