“He was common and he knew the laws. But when he handed the water over to King Vämbat, he asked for a sip—a single sip. King Vämbat laughed in his face.”

“And your grandfather turned on him,” Bastiaan filled in grimly.

“As well he should! His own king spat on his loyalty and sacrifice! So he destroyed all the cartographers and maps of the Well of Talents . . . except one. Eventually he traveled to the Well and got a Talent for himself.” Sven’s grandfather had died several years ago; otherwise I might have suspected he killed the king.

“His actions showed the king he was not worthy of a Talent,” Bastiaan said. “Talents are for the service of the crown! Your grandfather murdered good men for his own damaged pride.”

Sven pounded a fist into his thigh. “This is not about your righteous opinions, Duur.”

Sven only ever told me he was raised by his grandfather until a militair ran him through for no reason. Yet he was a murderer. He was the reason Winterune had lost a part of its history.

He was the reason I couldn’t get to the Well on my own.

Now Sven all but admitted to having the only map in existence.

“King Mattias has been to the Well once,” Bastiaan said. “Whether he has a map or not, he knows the way.”

Hedy seemed to be the only one not sickened by Sven’s story. “Then we must get to the Well first.”

“And do what?” Kees asked in a somber voice. “Die defending it from his thousands of militairen?”

Numb, I sank back onto my block of wood. This ruined everything. If the king stopped up the Well, I’d never learn what the water could do for me . . . or for my curse.

And I couldn’t ask Bastiaan to take me to the Well now that he had Runt to rescue.

I was stuck with Sven and his constant badgering for a wish.

“We wouldn’t get that far anyway.” Kees’s low rumble ushered a calm breath into the rising panic. “There are still the Trials. I’m not willing to go through them again.”

Everyone went silent at this last comment—the men especially. The ones with Talents. The only ones to have defeated the Trials. Yet I saw no ease of victory, just fear. “We’re going to destroy the Trials anyway,” Sven muttered.

“What’s the point?” Hedy shrieked. “Then we have a standoff against the king at the Well?”

“We can take stores of the Well’s water for ourselves.” Sven’s eyes lit up as new thoughts sprang like sparks of the fire. “And then we could stopper the Well. The king would have no control. He’d have to succumb to our demands. We would be the ones with power.”

That would make Sven as guilty as the king. Couldn’t he see?