‘Of course it’s right,’ Jai grunts back.
‘Not long now,’ Loch tells us. ‘The front carriages have already stopped.’
Yup, there’s no denying it; his power may not look as cool as wielding flames, but it’s awesome.
When we finally come to a stop, the carriage doors spring open and a scattering of torchlight breaks the unrelenting darkness. We start to file out, but as I move to stand, Jonas reaches forward and places his hand on my arm.
‘Can you give us a minute?’ he asks, looking at Benny and Llin.
Benny doesn’t reply until he looks at me and I give him a nod to say I’m fine, after which the others squeeze past, and I sit alone with Jonas.
‘I’m sorry about what I said earlier. About the slums,’ he clarifies.
‘You don’t have to apologise.’
‘I do. It was a flippant remark, and I didn’t think about its consequences. And for what it’s worth, I’m also sorry about what Estel said. About your father.’
Again, I didn’t need the clarification.
‘I’m sure she’s not the only one who’s thought it,’ I reply shortly.
‘Then they’re fools,’ he says, laying both his hands on my knees as he looks directly into my eyes. ‘Your father was phenomenally powerful. More powerful than almost every other noble in the High Hold. If they did have a problem with him, it’s because they were jealous. I mean that, truly.’
‘Thank you. I appreciate that.’ I take his hands andsqueeze them as I lift them pointedly off my knees. ‘Come on. We should get going. We’ve got places to be.’
I step out of the carriage into a long, narrow tunnel, with torchlights offering the only illumination. The sound of the Rettlings’ footsteps bounces off the walls, making it sound as if there are hundreds of us rather than a mere fifty.
A short way ahead, Llinos is waiting for me. ‘So did you two kiss and make up? There obviously wasn’t time for any more.’
‘Sorry to disappoint, but there was no kissing.’
‘Thatisdisappointing. Nothing like a bit of gossip to distract from a spot of impending doom.’
‘You’ll have to find another source, I’m afraid,’ I say drily, smiling despite myself. The tunnel we’re moving through continues to slope down, growing narrower and narrower, and soon it’s barely wide enough for us to stand side by side, at which point it turns into a series of steps. Another precarious staircase, and this one in near darkness. Great.
Finally, the steps end at a massive underground cave. Almost three-quarters of the ground is covered by a lake of pale sapphire blue, so still it acts like a mirror, reflecting the stalactites that hang from what must be a hundred feet above. I’m gawping at the sight, I know I am, but I don’t care. Korvane’s ostentatious chandeliers have nothing on this raw, natural beauty.
‘Rettlings, welcome to the Sunken Temple. Now, it is time for a few guidelines to make sure things run smoothly.’
The voice is filled with the tone of command, but annoyingly, I can’t see the speaker because the Rettlings who got here first have crammed themselves so tightly around the person that there’s barely any room to move. As I search out a better view, I notice an outcrop not too high up on the edge of the wall. The stone is rough, with deep divots that will be perfect for climbing.
‘Where are you going?’ Llinos whispers as I squeeze past her.
‘To get a better view,’ I say, pointing to the wall.
She turns back towards the speaker, who is now praising Etta and the other Gods. I’m only half listening, focused instead on choosing the quickest path to take up to the outcrop and ignoring the stinging in my left hand as I hoist myself up. The instant I take a seat on the ledge, I know I’ve made a good decision. I’ve got a much better view up here, and not just of the speaker, but of the Rettlings, too. The knighted guards are still clustered together and easily identifiable by the manner in which theystand. Still, attentive, and confident, it shows their respect for the occasion. Respect not everyone else is displaying.
An older woman is running back and forth to the water’s edge, while a younger one tries to stop her with constant hushing noises, which only serve to elicit more attention. As I watch, I recall what Estel said about the crazy woman from Dorain she was sharing a room with. I suspect I’ve figured out who she was talking about.
By the looks of things, there are several more Rettlings from Dorain with the two women, many rolling their eyes at the older woman’s antics, though not as many as the group from Galreck, whose pale faces are all marked with the four vertical lines to represent their city’s famous towers.
Zara is still with her goons, Oke and Elenor, and they’re joined by Shim and a couple of others. As I take in the Rettlings, I realise I should be listening. Getting distracted during the trials could be deadly. I need to focus.
I look to the speaker and immediately recognise him as the man who tried to help Kyor sober up at the ball.
He looks around sixty, with a grey beard and bald head, yet his frame is still ripped with muscle, and he carries himself with the same sort of gravitas as the knights. I’d bet my supply of seeds from Dinah that he’s got a dire wolf somewhere. I allow myself a quick scan to see if it’s present, and I’m not sure if I’m relieved or disappointed when I don’t spot it. I do spot someone else, though. Kyor.
He’s leaning against one of the cavern’s jagged walls, staring blankly at the speaker. Hungover, probably. He wears a fur stole across his shoulders and leather fighting trousers, and that’s it. The man must not feel the cold. Either that, or his plan is to distract everyone with his physique, which I hate to admit is an annoyingly effective technique. As he stands there, I try to make out the marks of his fealty Gods. I’m sure it’s Yordenrin’s starburst below his Wrohelm insignia, but I can’t decipher the one above his brow bone. What I do know is that the blue dye suits him.The colour glistens against his olive skin, while the crispness of the lines makes his cheekbones look even sharper.
