K
Yours always.My eyes hold fast on the words.
Right now I don’t know if I have days, weeks, or months left in the Retterheld, or if my death will come in the Ofur or from having this forbidden magic running through my veins.
But none of it matters. Because Kyor is offering me always.
Chapter 69
We’re all carrying our weapons at all times now, strapped to our bodies so we’re ready for the Ofur even if it’s called during meals or while we sleep. I even held my dagger between my teeth while I had my last bath, which had to be at least four days ago now.
As I hauled myself out of the tub and wrapped a towel around me, it struck me that, should the priestesses choose that precise moment to summon us to the next location, the dagger would be of little use if I was buck naked. So that was it. I stopped bathing. It’s only been once that we were taken without warning, but it’s not a chance I wish to risk.
The lack of cleanliness is hardly pleasant, especially not with all the training I’m doing, but judging from the grime that covers the other six remaining Rettlings, I’m not the only one taking this approach. I’m actually grateful that Kyor is no longer here with me. I’m not sure how long the attraction would last if we both smelt like rotten vegetables.
Still, at least my daggers are small. Benny’s sleeping each night with a sword strapped to his back, though I can’t imagine how the hell he’s doing it or how he hasn’t pierced his skin in the process. But it’s what works for him.
As for Jonas … I don’t know what he’s doing. I can’t avoid seeing him entirely, but he’s no longer sitting with Benny and me at meals. Instead, he’s chosen to sit on his own. At least it’s not just us he doesn’t want to team up with.
Despite all our fears over potentially being jerked awake in the middle of the night, unprepared and yet expected to fight, the chimes for the Ofur instead arrive close to midday, when all seven of us are out in the battle yard. Roderick’s the only other person there, and judging by the shock on his face, he didn’t know this was going to happen. The instant the first chime rings out, a long trail of priestesses appears through the gate. One after another they walk in ceremonial pomp, with Mila at the front.
‘How many of them are there?’ Benny’s muttering mirrors my own thoughts.
These can’t just be the priestesses from Wrohelm, even with all the rings included. There must be closer to two hundred of them. I scan through the faces as they enter, trying to see if Dinah is among them, but if she is, I can’t spot her.
Mila waits until they have formed a closed loop around us before she speaks.
‘Rettlings,’ she says. ‘Welcome. You’ve successfully made it thus far in the Retterheld, and the next time we meet, one of you will have met with the Great Etta herself and received her gifting. The rest of you, may you take the Goddess’s blessing from here and beyond into the rest of your lives. If you survive the Ofur, that is.’ She smiles as though she isn’t talking casually of our deaths.
I glance at Benny, fighting the urge to reach out and take his hand, but see his arm already stretching out to me. But before our hands can touch, my stomach hollows and my vision blurs as dizziness takes hold. It feels like the floor’s fallen out from beneath me the same way it did when we were portated before. The air shudders as I try to catch my breath, and a moment later, we’re standing in a thick mist.
It’s impossible to tell where we’ve been taken, and it’s fucking freezing. When we were on the lake I could see a little way on either side of me, but here the fog is so dense it’s opaque, and I can barely see my hand in front of my face, let alone anyone else.
‘Where are we?’
It’s Zara who speaks first, though it’s impossible to work out where she’s standing. With the way her voice echoes, it sounds as though it’s bouncing off the side of a mountain.
‘Benny!’ I call out, and then, because old habits die hard, ‘Jonas?’
‘Here.’
‘I’m all good.’
I take a tentative step forward only to remember the way that thecarriages previously dropped us precariously close to a cliff edge. If my first suspicion about being on a mountainside is correct, then even a tiny misstep could be deadly. I edge back to where I was and consider what to do next.
Mist is water, suspended. Can I freeze it? If I can, that’ll hopefully clear the air a little. I raise my hand, unsure what I’m about to do, when a voice cuts through the quiet.
‘Moryal? A little help here would be great.’
It’s Del who speaks, and a moment later, he gets his wish. The blast of air from the Galreck wind weaver has me struggling to stay upright, but it does the job. The mist clears ahead, and we can finally see where we’ve been brought.
My jaw hangs loose.
I’m not sure whether I’m proud that I was right or not, because I’m too busy being terrified. We are standing on a plateau about halfway up a mountain. I’ve no idea where exactly, though from its size, I guess it would have to be part of the Coltan Mountains, right at the very north of Morathkian territory. From the blue light emanating from the peak, my assumption is that we have to get to the top to win the Retterheld.
As I move my gaze from the peak, I see I’m not the only one gawking. Del’s jaw is clicking from side to side as he visibly thinks through what we’ve got to do next, while Benny is a little further away, taking it all in. It’s only as I turn to see Zara that a gasp leaves my lungs. Unlike everybody else, she’s not looking at where she has to go. Instead, her sword is out and she’s heading straight towards Grenda, who stands oblivious, with her back to her.
‘Grenda!’ I scream out as I lunge towards Zara, but I already know I’m not going to be fast enough. Before I can get another sound out, the tip of Zara’s sword protrudes from Grenda’s stomach.
