“How are you sure the Well will work like that? I thought I had to seek out the water for it to give me a Talent.”

“A Talent has to do with the heart. Making the heart choice to drink the water is an act of seeking. It holds the same intentionality as an epic pilgrimage.” At least, the idea made sense to Bastiaan. He’d never heard of someone bringing Well water to another person who then received a Talent.

“Can’t you wait until I’m better?”

“Sven and his group are already on their way to take the water for themselves. King Mattias is about to stopper the Well. Even if you and I leave today, we likely won’t get there first, no matter how hard we ride. Which is another thing.”

“Fine.” Runt’s voice was as flat as the cot he lay upon. “But a pilgrimage sounded so epic.”

“We’ll do it when you’re better. Even if it’s stoppered up.” And every year and every month until Bastiaan felt like he’d made it up to Runt. In fact, he’d stop time and they could build a cabin next to the Well if Runt asked.

Except he couldn’t stop time anymore.

His fist clenched. His Talent Mark burned.

The twitch of Runt’s lip told Bastiaan he was pleased. “Don’t die. Deal?”

Bastiaan clapped him on the shoulder. “I appreciate the confidence.” He headed outside to where Mother stood at a clothesline, pulling Bastiaan’s fresh travel blanket down to fold. It was stiff from the cold but dry. She hung laundry outdoors even in the bitter winter. He always wondered how it didn’t freeze stiff.

“This isn’t going to be like last time,” she said, brusque as the incoming snow.

“Last time I still had my Talent.”

“I’m talking about before you had a Talent.” She folded his blanket without an edge ever brushing the ground and handed it to him. “You won’t have Dehaan or his purse to get you through the Trials.”

Bastiaan ran his gloved hand through his hair. “I know.” His advantage was knowing what the Trials were, but he had never faced them. Not in the Awake.

And after two lifetimes his fear and dread of those Trials had only grown. He would, at last, have to face them: the tests that killed his father, that set a kingdom in uproar, and that would supposedly test his worth.

“You could die.” She tore a sheet off the clothesline so hard it sent the wire bouncing into the air. A sock flew off its clothespin at the other end.

“I have to do this. For Runt.”

She rounded on him. “Why not wait for this war to play out? Let the rebel band destroy the Trials and then purchase water from them.”

“How do you know Sven will succeed?”

“Buy it from the king then!”