“Victoria, Vincent,” Marc said, turning to the twins. “You will manage the sites in the north half of the city.”

They both nodded, then Vincent gave his sister a sly smile. “You take the east and I’ll take the west. Whoever has the most work done by midnight wins.”

Victoria grinned back, but I could see her eyes were glistening. “I accept your challenge.”

It took a concerted effort, but I stopped in my tracks. “There will,” I said, “be extra points for the quality of work done.”

“We will do it right, Tristan,” Vincent said, his voice strange in its solemnity. “You have our word on that.”

“You will judge, won’t you?” A flood of tears poured down Victoria’s cheeks. “You know contests with subjective elements require a judge.”

“I…” I wanted to tell her that I would, but the words wouldn’t come out, because I didn’t believe they were true. “I trust you.” Why did I feel as though I was saying goodbye?

Her lip trembled and she bit it hard. Then she bowed low. “We will not disappoint you, Your Highness.”

“You never do.” I held my ground long enough to watch them disappear into the city, then I met Marc’s gaze. “Let’s get to work.”

We met Tips on our way to the first construction site.

“You look sorrier than a sewer worker after a feast day, Your Highness,” he said, pulling off his hat.

“I must look poorly indeed if you are according me a title again,” I said, laughing. The motion hurt. Everything hurt.

“Is she…” he started to ask, but Marc made some motion to silence him. They began to speak in earnest, but I didn’t listen. I didn’t need to hear once more how precariously close I was to the end. Instead, I went to the block of stone sitting next to a growing pillar. It was ready. Bracing my feet against the street, I lifted the massive block up, watching it rise higher and higher until it reached the top of the column. Sweat broke out on my brow, because it was heavy. Had I really once had the power to hold up the mountain over my head? It seemed impossible now, a memory so distant it seemed another life.

Block after block rose up into the air, some with my power and some with Marc’s. I became dimly aware that the streets were teeming with half-bloods, as though the entire population of Trollus had decided to go out at the same time. They were grouped in bunches around the columns, the air filled with the sounds of rock being chiseled into shape.

And the half-bloods were not alone. The familiar uniform of the Builders’ Guild stood out among the sea of grey-clad forms, each of them holding a roll of parchment and shouting orders. No, not just the Builders’ Guild – all the guilds, all of them lending their strength to do my work. Never in my life had I seen such a thing, or even ever believed that such a collaboration amongst my people would be possible.