Kiva tried not to look at the prisoners surrounding the edges of the quarry, the three thousand–odd people who were staring down into the water and waiting to see what would happen next. The anticipation in the air was palpable, even more so than before her Trial by Fire. Excitement . . . Anger . . . Resentment . . . Jealousy . . . Hope . . . It was a heady melange of emotion, something the guards must have felt as well, since the ones Kiva could see interspersed among the prisoners had tight grips on their weapons.

Danger, Kiva’s mind warned. Danger!

But she couldn’t give a second thought to her audience, not when every part of her was beginning to tremble with dread. All she knew was that Jaren, Tipp, and Mot were up there somewhere, willing her to stay alive. She wondered if they were more or less anxious than she, being made to witness, yet helpless to act.

When Rooke finally came to a stop, they had traveled perhaps halfway down the quarry from where they’d started. There was still a sheer cliff between her and the surface of the water, which Kiva guessed was between fifty and a hundred feet away, but it was hard to tell with the disillusioning turquoise color and its reflecting stillness.

“Kiva Meridan,” Rooke said in a loud voice, the words echoing around the stone and up to the awaiting prisoners and guards who surrounded the quarry. “Today you will face your third Ordeal, the Trial by Water. Do you have any last words?”

Kiva wished he would stop asking that before each Trial. What was she expected to say?

But then she remembered that she did want to say something, and she looked at Naari, trying to communicate with her. In return, the guard gave the slightest of shrugs to say she didn’t understand.

Knowing she was running out of time, Kiva turned back to Rooke and shook her head, still thinking madly about how she might steal a moment with Naari before the Trial began.

Rooke was oblivious to how distracted she was and proceeded to reveal what she would have to do. “The average person can hold their breath underwater for up to two minutes.”

Kiva froze, but Rooke wasn’t finished.

“The record is half an hour.” The Warden paused, before sharing, “But that man suffered irreparable damage afterward, and complications that later led to death.”

Depriving the brain of oxygen for so long . . . Kiva was amazed the record holder had survived at all, let alone lived for any length of time until his complications set in.