If she could get the sword from him, she stood a chance. She was skilled with a sword, even if she had no idea how she’d learned. When she’d been discovered in the church, she had no memories beyond her name. But even though she had no idea who she was, the doctors who’d treated her had explained that she still had something called “procedural memory.” She remembered how to walk, cut up her food, and speak English. She couldn’t type, which meant she’d never learned, but as soon as she saw a piano, she’d been struck by a certainty that she knew what sounds her fingers would make on its keys. She just had no memory of how she’d learned to play in the first place.

When she thought of sword fighting, it was the same. She could imagine herself wielding a blade with precision, each thrust and parry as familiar to her as the movements of walking. As she envisioned herself fighting, a little of the terror seeped out of her chest, and she smiled to herself. In all likelihood, Kester was not counting on her expertise in this area. At least F.U. had done something right for her.

The berm was more slippery than she’d expected, and near the apex she had to scramble on her hands and knees so as not to slide down its side. On the flattened hilltop, she straightened, shielding her eyes as a strong gust of wind whipped snow into her face.

When she’d wiped the snow from her eyes, she found herself standing beside an enormous grey rock, its rough-hewn surface crusted with ice. Two more stones rose from the ground on either side, and if she strained her eyes, she could see the dim edges of more boulders curving off into the darkness.

Kester gripped his sheathed sword. He nodded at one of the rocks. “What do you think of the ringstones?”

She turned to gape at him. Is he seriously making small talk? And what sort of opinion was she supposed to have on rocks?

“They’re big.” She kept her eyes on the weapon that swung by his hips. “But why are we here?”

“A trial can only be conducted in a place of ancient magic.” With the sword tucked under one arm, he led her further into the stone circle. As they walked, another ring of giant stones came into view.

She took a deep breath. How, exactly, was she going to distract him long enough to get that sword? He’d nearly lured her into his trap through the power of suggestion, but that really wasn’t part of her skill set. Especially not when she was stuffed into a grey parka, half freezing to death.

Then again, men could be simple-minded creatures.

Kester turned to her. “We need to be within the inner circle.”